Chapter Seven
THE NIGHT was a bit of a blur after that.
Linda must’ve heard the noise too, because Austin had barely touched his knuckles to the back door before she threw it open. She had her hair pulled back in a no-nonsense ponytail, and she took one look at the dog in Joe’s arms and said, “Put her in my back seat and we’ll take her to the clinic.”
Joe and Austin didn’t argue. Joe got in the car with Linda and the dog, and Austin followed them into town, then into a tidy little building that certainly was not normally open after eight o’clock on a Sunday.
They’d been there only a handful of minutes before the door swung open and a harried-looking young woman came in wearing scrubs and Crocs.
She spared them a quick look and then disappeared into the depths of the building.
Austin had no idea how long they sat there. He’d left his phone in the trailer. He was barely aware of the press of Joe’s shoulder against his.
Finally the door to the clinic opened and Linda stepped out. Austin stood automatically and was peripherally aware of Joe doing the same.
“Well,” she said. “That was more excitement than I expected for a Sunday night.”
That sounded—good? That didn’t sound like I’m sorry. Austin swallowed. “Is she—”
“Stable, for now,” Linda said. “But we need to talk seriously before I go much further.”
That sounded… less good.
Something touched Austin’s hand. He looked down. It was Joe’s. Their fingers laced together. Joe squeezed.
Austin looked back up again. He didn’t think Joe knew he’d done it. Maybe he just needed someone to hold on to.
He nodded for both of them. “Sure, yeah,” he said.
“Most of her wounds are superficial,” Linda said. “But I’m not going to lie, her leg’s a mess. It’s possible I could save it, but it’ll be multiple surgeries, and even then, she could lose the leg. My recommendation is to amputate.”
Fuck. Jesus.
Joe said, “Can she—I mean, with just three legs…?”
“Lots of dogs live healthy, fulfilling lives on three legs. There’s no guarantee, but she can still have a good life.
” She paused. “But it’s a long recovery.
She’s going to need help, antibiotics, attention, dressing changes.
We don’t know how long she’s been on her own, if she ever did have people—there’s no microchip.
She might not be housebroken. That’s going to make it harder to find her a home.
And she needs a home if she’s going to have this surgery.
It would be cruel to amputate and leave her to recover in a shelter. ”
Suddenly Austin understood what she hadn’t said.
This dog needed a home, needed a family, right now—or the kindest thing would be to end her suffering.
He didn’t even have time to think about it before he said, “I’ll do it.”
Linda locked eyes with him and asked seriously, “Are you sure?” She held up a hand. “This is a commitment. She’s going to need extra time and extra money.”
“She makes a good point,” Joe put in. “Not sure the house has enough old dishes to cover the cost of renos and vet bills.”
“I’ll figure it out,” Austin said stubbornly. He couldn’t stand the thought of doing anything else. Especially not if it meant that poor creature would have to be put down.
Joe shook his head and turned to Linda. “I guess we’re getting a dog.”
Austin jerked and stared at Joe. We?
Linda smiled then, small but genuine. “Good. Let’s talk fees and care.”
“Shouldn’t you—” Austin gestured and glanced at the door she’d just come through.
“Five minutes to make sure you’re giving informed consent won’t make a difference.”
Joe snorted. “Let’s hear it, Doc.”
Linda walked them through the fees involved in the upcoming surgery, but Austin barely paid attention. What difference would the cost make? Austin wasn’t changing his mind. Though figuring out how to pay for everything without having to take out loans or relinquish the house would be a task.
Unless…. He was barely sleeping at the garage these days.
He pretty much lived full-time in the trailer.
If he rented out the apartment, that would help.
Besides, he was pretty sure he wouldn’t even have to advertise or go looking for a tenant.
The baker who rented out the shop next to Austin’s garage had been grumbling about his long morning commute and his horrible landlord.
“Okay, that covers the basics. I’m going to get back to her,” Linda said.
Austin hoped Joe had been paying attention.
“Afterwards, one of my people can get all the paperwork sorted and we can go over aftercare in more detail.” She slapped her thighs and stood.
“Oh, by the way, any thoughts on a name? We’ll need one eventually for paperwork. ”
Austin answered without thinking. “Josephine.”
Linda grinned. Joe gave him a look.
“Why, exactly, are we calling our new dog Josephine?”
Austin shrugged. Because it feels right? “It’s about time one of your kids was named after you.”
“We can talk about late-life adoption and naming rules another time.”
“Okay. I’m going to go do the surgery. You two should head home.”
“What?” She wanted Austin to leave?
“There’s nothing else you can do for her tonight,” Linda said kindly, “but you’re gonna want to be well rested tomorrow when you come to pick her up.”
“Come on,” Joe cajoled. He knocked their shoulders together. “We both need sleep. Josephine”—he pulled a face—“is in good hands.”
Austin chewed his lip, but he could see their point. With a sigh, he nodded and let Joe pull him toward the door.
Then, surprising himself, Austin gave in to the impulse to lean forward and pull Linda into a hug. “Thanks.”
“Don’t thank me for doing my job.”
“Can’t stop me,” Austin said with a grin and waved goodbye.
THE NEXT morning, Joe woke up at 5:26 a.m.
He groaned, rubbed his face, and cursed beating his alarm by half an hour.
He was used to early starts, what with working in landscaping—one didn’t waste the coolest hours of the day—but Joe wasn’t exactly an early bird.
He liked sleeping in on days off, and usually the only perk of cool weather and shorter days was getting to do just that.
But with a house in need of renovations, Joe had glumly kept his alarm set even on days off.
He thought about rolling back over. After all, what would it hurt if he slept past the alarm?
He pressed his face into the pillow when the memories suddenly came back to him. Josephine. (God, that name.) They had to pick her up this morning, and Austin wouldn’t want to be late.
Joe wouldn’t be surprised if Austin was already awake and pacing the trailer.
With a groan, he rolled out of bed and headed for the shower.
By the time he got to the house, he was fortified with coffee and donuts and ready to take on the day.
As he got out of the car, he glanced at the trailer but figured he should leave Austin to it if he was actually sleeping and headed for the house.
Of course, Joe had only just stepped into the front hall when he realized his hopes were in vain. From the sound of it, Austin was moving things around in the living room.
“You’re my favorite,” Austin said when Joe dangled the coffee cup in front of his face.
“And all it cost was a cup of a coffee? Guess I shouldn’t have splashed out for the donuts, then. Maybe I’ll keep them for myself.”
Austin made grabby hands. “Don’t you dare.”
Joe handed over the box and settled next to him in one of the camping chairs. “Whatcha up to this morning?”
Naturally, Austin was mid-bite. He pulled a face while he chewed. His affronted look over Joe’s bad timing was nothing short of adorable. “Figured I might as well do some sorting, assessing, and cataloging for selling. What with all the vet bills coming.”
“Probably a good idea. Want a hand?”
Neither of them mentioned that they were just filling time while they waited for Linda or one of her people to call and tell them it was time to get their new dog. They also didn’t talk about the logistics of a shared pet.
A few boxes and two cups of coffee and three donuts in, Austin broke the silence on the topic.
“We’ll have to stop at the pet store on our way to get Josephine.”
True. They definitely didn’t have anything they needed. Still, that hardly seemed the most pressing point to Joe.
“You’re serious about that name?”
“Deadly,” Austin said, smirking.
Joe shook his head. “Fine. If you insist, then we can call her Josefina.” He pronounced it the correct Spanish way. Austin lifted a brow but didn’t argue. “But I’m not calling her that—I’m not yelling for Josefina in a park.”
“We can’t call her Joe,” Austin said. “That would be confusing.”
“Of course not. We’ll call her Pepa.”
“Pepa,” Austin said slowly. “Why would we call her Pepa?”
“It’s the Spanish nickname for Josefina.”
“What?” He paused mid-sort of a box and stared at Joe like he thought Joe was putting him on. “How the heck do you get Pepa out of Josefina?” His accent was terrible, but Joe was mature and didn’t mock him for it.
“How do you get Dick out of Richard? A mystery.”
“I don’t know, maybe Richard likes having dick in him,” Austin shot back.
Joe laughed. “Touché.” He shook his head. “So…. Pepa?”
Austin nodded. “Pepa.”
“So should we go upstairs and find some vet bills?”
They wandered over to the base of the stairs, where Joe turned on the flashlight on his phone and knelt to look at the offending step.
The whole tread had come off the stringers and been pushed through the plaster underneath and into the basement—likely from the force of Austin pulling.
Joe whistled under his breath. “This could’ve been worse. ”
“Tell that to the bruise I have this morning, man,” Austin said ruefully. “Although at least it’s not tetanus.”
“Dodged a bullet on that one,” Joe agreed. Some of the nails poking out looked nasty. He stuck his finger into the wood where the tread had been attached, and it crumbled. “Huh.”
“What?”
“Can you find the piece that broke off?”