Pepper—the name was sticking even though naming these dogs would create unnecessary emotional attachment—pricked up her ears and looked his way.
“Come here, girl,” Kurt called, half holding his breath as the cat trotted directly into the dog’s path. Like this afternoon, Pepper didn’t disappoint. She dropped into a play bow and woofed. Mr. Longtail stopped midstep as the hair along his back and tail stood out stick straight. As if he’d had no idea a dog was capable of such a baritone woof. Pepper didn’t seem to notice. She sniffed the cat all over, nudging his hind end off the ground with her strong head. Then, seemingly satisfied, she jogged around him and met Kurt halfway up the path.
He emptied his pocket of treats for her. Mr. Longtail followed, walking underneath her, straight to Kurt’s legs to rub against his jeans. The cat meowed, and Kurt was surprised to hear a deep, thrumming purr radiating from his chest. Kelsey had said she’d never heard the feline purr.
Kurt leaned down to scratch the cat’s chin. In return, Mr. Longtail rubbed contentedly against Kurt’s fingers. “Maybe you just didn’t like all the solitude.”
After getting Pepper back in her kennel, Kurt headed into the kitchen, Mr. Longtail following. He fed the cat and helped himself to a slice of cold pizza. He considered hunting down a notebook and pen and making a to-do list of all the items bouncing around his head, but even if he could find a pen and a notebook, he doubted he’d get halfway through writing the list before becoming distracted. Experience had proven he could tackle projects of almost any size, but he couldn’t make a list to save himself.
So instead, he dove into repairs of the Sabrina Raven estate the way he did everything else—focusing on whatever came to the front of his thoughts. It was a little after nine, and he figured he’d work until about one in the morning, doing what he could with the tools he’d found in the old carriage house at the back of the yard. Then he’d catch a few hours’ sleep and rise with the sun and the dogs.
He sorted through a bulky metal toolbox for all the flooring nails he could find. The toolbox was an antique and one of the favorite things he’d come across so far. If he was still around when the shelter held an estate sale, he’d purchase a few things for himself. The toolbox would be one of them.
“Come on, cat,” Kurt said to the watchful Mr. Longtail. He slipped the nails into his pocket and fisted the hammer, heading out of the kitchen. “You and I could likely use each other’s company. Let’s see if I can get those stairs to be a bit less of a hazard so I can make it up to one of those old feather beds you’ve been sleeping on.”
With a twitch of his tail, the cat followed him out of the kitchen, and Kurt suspected he was on the way to making an unlikely friend.
Chapter 8
The job that lay before them was just so massive. At the very least, they were going to need help from a few trusted volunteers. Kelsey suspected she’d have a hard time convincing Kurt to let some tasks fall to other people, but she couldn’t see how else the rehab was going to work. He’d requested that for a few days, he be the only one taking the dogs in and out of the kennels and furnishing their meals, top areas where aggression could arise.
However, that left him with an enormous job.
He was fine passing dogs off to her once he’d walked around with them and made sure they were calm and attentive. Kelsey then did a “middle” shift with each dog, taking them for walks around the backyard while he readied their breakfast. After she passed the dogs off again, he had them sit at attention, then fed each one a little by hand before placing the bowl in front of them. From start to finish with all the dogs, the whole process ended up taking the better part of four hours.
During it, Kurt was quite different from the laid-back guy he’d been during their meal yesterday. He didn’t say a word that wasn’t related to the training, and she suspected there were times he forgot she was there. One thing for sure, she’d never met anyone with his ability to communicate with and train dogs. As he worked, she could almost see him shedding layers of his world until it was only him and the dog before him.
He was commanding and alert without being harsh or overpowering. During her years working at the shelter, she’d witnessed harsh and overpowering from a few people who’d come in claiming to have a way with dogs but who just intimidated them until the dogs were uncomfortable and submissive. In no way was this Kurt. His voice was never raised, and his movements were slow, fluid, and a bit exaggerated. Easy for the dogs to observe.
By the time the morning was over, Kelsey was willing to bet all thirty-seven dogs in their care had accepted him as an alpha and master. All except one, that was. Judging by the dog’s behavior both in the kennel and out, Kelsey was harboring doubts the cranky giant of a dog could be won over by anyone. He snarled when other dogs passed within six feet of his kennel, had all but refused to reenter it after a late-evening bathroom break last night, and pulled away from any sort of human touch or affection.
It was something, watching Kurt work. And a good experience for her too. That clingy feeling she’d carried around the last two days—reminiscent of a few
