12. Ethan
12
Ethan
E than glanced around the lobby of Second Chance Animal Rescue, his eyes drawn to pastel-colored bags of heart-shaped dog treats lining the reception desk. Something about their whimsical appearance made him smile.
“Ethan?” Kara’s voice carried across the lobby.
He spun around and his heart stuttered as she stepped through the door.
“Oh, hey Kara.” His voice cracked slightly. “I’m here to volunteer.” He cleared his throat. “If you still need me, I mean my help, that is.”
“Oh, um, sure. I mean, yes, that sounds, that sounds great!” She paused, seeming to gather herself. “We can definitely use the help.”
A silence bloomed between them, stretching like taffy. Ethan’s eyes darted back to the heart-shaped treats, as if they might whisper the perfect words to say next ...
“When we spoke yesterday, it, uh, it sounded like something fun to do while I’m in town. And I was curious to check the place out, so here I am.”
Kara’s gaze flickered to the corner before returning to him as though she were still deciding if letting him back into her world was a good idea. “Right, okay. How about we start with a quick tour?”
Ethan nodded. “Lead the way.”
Kara gestured around them, her voice shifting to a more professional tone. “So, this is our lobby. Normally, we’d have someone at the desk handling questions, arranging animal visits, that sort of thing. Anyway, the kennels are through here.”
As Kara turned back toward the doors that led to the kennels, Ethan rushed over and grabbed one of the handles, holding the door open for her, which started up the cacophony of barks.
She smiled.
He grinned—like a fool.
Swallowing hard, he stepped inside after her and was struck by how clean the place was. The floors gleamed, and there wasn’t a trace of the typical animal rescue smell he’d been bracing himself for.
Kara raised her voice over the barking. “Welcome to the kennels! Some dogs are still in the yard—I was cleaning when you arrived. Mind if we pause the tour to bring them in?”
“No problem,” Ethan said, rolling up his sleeves.
Kara’s face brightened. “Let me get the leashes.”
Ethan followed Kara down the aisles and over to a door in the corner where pegs were adorned with an array of different-colored leashes ranging in every size.
Kara reached for a bundle of them. “Think you can handle leashing them up? Then we can walk them back.”
“Sure thing,” Ethan said with a nod. “After you.”
Bright sunlight streamed through the doorway as Ethan stepped outside. The yard was alive with activity thanks to a motley crew of canines, from a towering Great Dane to a tiny Chihuahua, and everything in between. Some chased each other in playful circles, while others were content to roll in the grass, tongues lolling out in canine bliss.
Ethan noted how the grass, well-maintained and lush, still sparkled with traces of morning dew. A majestic oak tree stood at the far end, providing a patch of shade. Then he saw the bounty of canine entertainment: tennis balls, brightly colored frisbees, and an array of squeaky toys strewn about like offerings for the ruling pups of this domain.
“This must be what Dog Heaven looks like.”
Kara’s melodious laughter tickled his ears.
Ethan scanned the scene, counting the dogs. One, two, three ... seven, eight ... He lost track somewhere in the mid-teens, and decided to just take a tangle of leashes from Kara’s outstretched hand. The cool metal clips created a soft chime as they collided.
“There are so many of them.” Ethan’s eyes widened. “Must take a small army to manage everything.”
The corners of Kara’s mouth lifted in a smile that was equal parts pride and exhaustion. “It’s actually just me most days,” she said with a shrug. “Hasn’t always been like this, but you know how things change.”
Ethan snapped his head around. “Wait, what? How do you even—I mean, that’s amazing.”
Kara was already moving toward a nearby dog. “You figure it out as you go. Come on, let’s get these pups inside.”
They set about rounding up the dogs, their conversation minimal. Kara’s tone remained professional as she offered tidbits of information about the rescue, making Ethan feel oddly like a stranger. But instead of dwelling on it, he focused on the task at hand.
Corralling the excited pups was like herding caffeinated butterflies, but eventually, they guided almost every dog back to their kennel. As they worked, Ethan noticed the path her feet had etched into the yard’s perimeter, the ballet-like grace of her efficient movements, and the way each dog’s ears perked up at her familiar footsteps. Finally, they came to the last dog, a miniature schnauzer, who seemed intent on sleeping in the shade under the large oak.
Kara held out a leash. “That’s Benny. Why don’t you take him?”
Ethan, taking the leash, lowered himself to eye level with the miniature schnauzer. “Hey there, Benny,” He stroked the gray fur on top of his head. “You enjoying some time in the shade?” Ethan smiled. “How old’s this guy?”
“Twelve, we think. He came in as a stray about six years ago.”
“Six years? And no one’s adopted him yet?”
Kara kneeled beside Ethan. “He’s had a few foster homes,” she explained, her voice soft. “But it never quite worked out. One family moved, another was allergic, and the last—well, senior dog care isn’t cheap.”
Ethan scratched behind Benny’s ears. “Poor guy. Any interest lately?”
Kara shook her head. “Not yet. But his forever home is out there somewhere. He’s such a sweetheart.”
Ethan clipped the leash to Benny’s collar. “What do you say, Benny? Ready?”
As they walked back inside, Kara pointed out various storage areas, explaining, “Here’s where we keep our extra bedding ... food ... and other supplies.”
Ethan nodded, taking it all in. “You only rescue dogs?”
“No, we usually have cats too, but it’s been quiet on that front lately.”
They paused by a window, sunlight streaming in and illuminating Kara’s face. Her small smile faded, replaced by a quiet intensity. “You know, when we first started, we only rescued cats and dogs. Didn’t make much sense though when really all animals feel pain and joy, like any pet.”
Ethan listened intently, captivated by the passion in her voice.
Kara continued. “Every animal wants to live. It’s a shame that they’re treated differently because they weren’t born a cat or dog. They all deserve compassion and care. That’s what this place is about, a home for all animals who need a second chance.” Kara’s face lit up. “You wouldn’t believe some animals we’ve rescued. Goats, chickens, and, believe it or not, a pretentious frog who thought he was a prince.”
Ethan raised an eyebrow. “No kidding? Where’d you put them all?”
“We made do here for a while, but eventually found them homes at better-equipped rescues. Oh, and get this—we once rescued a pig that jumped off a truck headed for, well, you know.”
Ethan shook his head. “Kara, that’s—wow.” He met her eyes. “What you’re doing here—it’s incredible, really.”
Kara’s cheeks flushed. “Thanks. It’s tough sometimes, but—” She glanced around at the animals. “Each one matters, you know?”
“They do, and they’re lucky to have you.” Ethan smiled, then clapped his hands together. “So, what’s next on the to-do list?”
Kara bit her lip. “Actually, there is something. I’ve got this camera I’ve been meaning to install in the yard. Keep an eye on the dogs, you know? Just haven’t found the time.” She jerked her thumb toward a door. “I’ll grab it from the office. Mind getting the ladder and toolbox from the supply closet?”
“On it,” Ethan said, already moving. As he opened the door to the walk-in closet, he blinked at the clutter inside. A mishmash of items crowded the shelves—giant bottles of pet shampoo stood beside squeaky toys, while a leaning tower of creased animal care guides looked ready to collapse.
As his eyes scanned inside, finding the ladder and toolbox, something else caught his attention. A photo album, its spine labeled Second Chance Animal Rescue , sat on top of a pile of blankets.
He carefully pulled it out and opened the album. Page after page showed Kara over the years, her smile constant even as the scenery and animals around her changed.
As he neared the back of the album, something slipped from between the pages. He reached out and caught it before it hit the floor. Ethan’s chest tightened.
It was a Polaroid. Kara’s eyes were closed, caught mid-blink, while he sported a wide, carefree smile from twenty-two years ago.
She kept it?
“Ethan?” Kara called out. “You okay in there?”
Ethan fumbled with the album, tucking the Polaroid back into its place and returning the album to its spot on the pile. He grabbed the ladder, his heart still pounding.
“Yeah, got ‘em!” he called back. He took a steadying breath before stepping out of the closet. “Got lost in there for a second,” he added with a chuckle.
“Yeah, that closet has been lurking on my to-do list since, well—” Kara’s face scrunched into a rueful grimace. “Probably since we opened,” she admitted with a self-deprecating chuckle. “Never enough hours in the day.”
Ethan followed Kara outside and waited while she decided on the best spot for the camera.
Kara squinted up at the corner of the building. “What about up there? Think that’d work?”
Ethan tilted his head. “Hard to tell from down here. Can we check the feed before we mount it?”
She dug into her pocket for her phone. “Oh, right. There’s an app.” She waved the phone. “Mind holding it up there while I check?”
Ethan nodded, setting up the ladder. “No problem. I’ll head up. Pass it to me?”
Kara gripped the base, steadying it. “Okay, but watch your step. This ladder’s about as old as the barn itself.”
“Well, that’s comforting.”
Kara shrugged, a sheepish grin on her face. “It was here when we renovated the barn. Never got a new one.”
Ethan smirked. “So, you’re perfectly fine with me scaling this relic that probably witnessed the stock market crash of ‘29?”
Kara laughed, swatting his arm. “Oh, stop it! It’s not that old. Just well-loved.”
Ethan started up the ladder. “If I fall, at least it’s a short trip.”
When Kara handed the camera and its mount to him, his hand tingled from the brief contact with hers. The simple touch sent a jolt through him, stirring a memory. The warm sunlight dimmed, giving way to the glow of fluorescent lights ...
The soft beep of the pharmacy’s cash register hummed in the background as Kara stood beside him, her chestnut hair pulled back in a ponytail, a name tag pinned to her shirt.
“So, after you scan the items,” Kara said, leaning in close enough that Ethan could catch a whiff of her light, jasmine perfume, “you just press this button here.” Her voice had a playful lilt to it, as if she was sharing a secret.
As she reached out to demonstrate, her hand brushed against his. The touch lingered a fraction longer than necessary. He looked up, meeting Kara’s eyes. For a moment, he saw a flicker of something in her gaze—surprise? Interest?
She glanced away, a faint blush coloring her cheeks.
“And, um, that’s all you do,” she said, tucking a stray strand behind her ear.
“Seems simple enough. But maybe you should show me one more time?” He flashed her a grin. “Just to make sure I’ve got it down.”
Kara laughed, bumping her shoulder against his. “Really?”
“Well, you know what they say. Practice makes perfect.”
After showing him one more time, Kara raised an eyebrow. “Alright, hotshot. Let’s see what you’ve learned.” She grabbed a random item from the counter. “Ring me up.”
As Ethan fiddled with the scanner, hyper-aware of Kara’s proximity, he couldn’t help but think that learning the cash register was suddenly the most exciting thing in the world.
The memory faded like a passing breeze, leaving him standing on the ladder again, holding the camera. He blinked, refocusing as he positioned it.
“How’s it look?” Ethan adjusted his grip. “We good?”
“Hang on ... stupid app ... Ah! There we go.” She squinted at the screen. “Okay, maybe nudge it right a bit? And tilt it ... yeah, like that.”
Ethan shifted the camera. “Better?”
“That’s it! Perfect.”
Ethan glanced down. “Pass me the drill? And grab a couple screws, would you?”
Kara rummaged in the toolbox, grabbing the drill and a handful of screws. She looked up, their gazes caught for a moment. “These okay?”
Ethan took the drill, eyeing the screws. “Yeah, that’ll do. Can you hand them to me one by one?”
As Ethan worked on mounting the camera, Kara stood close, ready with each screw. Every time she passed one to him, there was a moment—a shared look, a subtle smile, a barely-there touch of fingers, like the start of something they weren’t quite ready to admit.
Ethan made quick work of mounting the camera on the side of the building, though part of him wished the task would last longer.
After he was done, he descended the ladder. “All set,” he said, turning to face her.
They stood there for a moment, neither moving away,
“I should, uh—” Ethan gestured at the ladder. “Probably put this back.”
“Oh! Right, yeah.” Kara tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ve got the toolbox.”
Once inside, they put away the ladder and toolbox, then Kara pulled out her phone and showed Ethan the camera app. “This is perfect. I can finally keep tabs on the yard without running out every five minutes.”
“Happy to help.” Ethan smiled, shoving his hands in his pockets as he glanced toward the kennels. “Anything else on your list?”
Kara sighed. “Nothing for now. The animals are good until tonight. I’ll probably be answering emails and catching up on planning until then.”
Ethan took a step back. “Guess I should let you get to it then.” He paused. “This was—nice. You need help tomorrow?”
“Oh, I mean.” Kara’s eyes flitted about the room. “If you’re free, that is. You probably have plans.”
“I could swing by. Same time?”
“Yeah. Yeah, that’d be great.”
“Great! It’s a date—not a date date, you know ...” It was his turn to blush. “Tomorrow then.”