Sarah deserved Ryan, but too late for that.
The other pup made a run for it, but Tara stretched out and grabbed it. Her shirt rode up, exposing some nasty, jagged scars on her stomach and back. Not wanting to stare, Meg quickly looked away.
But Tara noticed.
“Those are a story for a future girls’ night. Suffice to say, I totally understand your reluctance to trust Josh again after being hurt.” She brought the sleepy pup from her lap up to eye level and smiled. “I’ll take this little cutie.”
“Thanks, I owe you one, Tara.” Meg wanted to ask who or what had done that to her. But it didn’t seem Tara wanted to talk about it. Might be one of the reasons a young dentist would move to such a small town where she didn’t know a soul, when she could probably make a whole lot more money in Denver. “Are you coming to the Founder’s Day dinner later?”
Tara shook her head. “Nope. Looks like I have a date tonight with my little man here.”
“We’ll miss you, but staying home means you won’t have to endure my dad and his windy speeches about the history of Anderson Butte. I’d skip too, if I could.”
As Meg rounded up the other wiggly puppy into the basket, Tara said, “So, I’m dying to know. Did our pep talk work last night? Did you finally commit, and are you and Josh on speaking terms today?”
“Yes, but I really should have made him work a little harder for it. Not only did he bring all the dogs home, but he also brought home a ten-year-old boy who’s going to stay with us for a few months. Speaking of that, Eric got into a fight the other day and finally admitted to Josh this morning his front teeth are still hurting. Do you have time to see him on Monday?”
Tara’s brows spiked. “If he’s in pain, I’ll see him right away. Let me get cleaned up and I’ll meet him at my office. Forty-five minutes?”
One of the benefits of living in a small town and not Denver anymore. People did favors because it was the right thing to do. Tara was going to fit right in. “Do you take puppy chow in payment? Josh has a truck bed full.”
Tara laughed. “I think we can work something out.”
Meg walked to the front door. “Thanks, Tara. Now I owe you twice.”
Tara snuggled with her new puppy and sighed. “This little guy makes us even.”
She’d have to remember to tell Ben that Tara thought he was cute. He needed to quit dating bimbos and get serious for a change. Tara would be perfect for her brother.
Just as Tara was about to close her front door, she said, “Wait. Mrs. Jenkins was in to see me last week. Her dog died recently and she’d seemed pretty upset. Maybe she’d like another?”
“I’ll stop by there next. Thanks.”
Meg texted Josh about Eric’s dental appointment and asked him to bring along dog food, then reluctantly headed up the hill to a quaint little cabin with a blue metal roof, nestled among the trees.
Mrs. Jenkins, a widow, the leader of the Three Amigos, and Meg’s former principal, was not Meg’s number one fan. Hopefully the pup would soften her up a bit.
Meg spotted her struggling with a wheelbarrow full of weeds. “Need a hand?”
The old woman stopped and wiped her brow. Then her eyes narrowed. “What have you got there, Megan?”
“A puppy who needs a good home.” Meg laid the basket at Mrs. Jenkins’s feet and then lifted the wheelbarrow. “Where did you want this?” She’d let the puppy sell itself.
Mrs. Jenkins stood with her hands on her hips, lips pursed as she peered down into the basket. “Around the back. I’m making a pile to burn later.”
Meg found the pile and dumped out the contents, then hurried back. Mrs. Jenkins was still staring at the dog. “You think giving me a puppy will make up for all the grief you’ve caused me over the years?”
Always back to that with her. “No, I don’t, but Tara mentioned you’re missing your dog, so I thought this little girl would cheer you up for a few minutes, even if you don’t want to take her in.”
Mrs. Jenkins picked up the pup, then brought it to the porch steps and sat down. Tears welled in her eyes. “I do miss my Bella. This sweet little girl is cute, but I’m not sure I’m up for another dog quite yet.”
“I understand. I’ll go fill this up again while you take a break.”
Meg went to the garden to pull weeds. It was the least she could do after all the crap she’d dealt the poor woman years ago.
Luckily, there weren’t many weeds left, so she picked up a pair of dusty gloves that lay on the fence post and set in. Pulling weeds in her grandmother’s garden was one of Meg’s usual punishments as a kid, so she was well trained. And darned fast because it was boring.