Luke Bennett cursed under his breath. He should have believed the weather report instead of the clear sky that had lured him to Bozeman. But the sale at a local housewares store ended this weekend and he’d wanted a set of dishes.

Got the dishes. Was gonna be late to his three o’clock appointment at the Guzzling Grizzly. The white stuff spraying his windshield meant he had to slow to a crawl or risk an accident. He hated being late.

The weather was a piss-poor excuse for lateness, too. If he’d left earlier…hang on. Some critter was on the median. Hard to identify what it was with the snow coming down so fast. Wolf? Coyote?

No, looked more like…shit-fire, it ran right in front of him. Clearly a black dog, trotting along the shoulder. On a mission. In the middle of nowhere.

He eased to the side of the road, keeping the animal in the beam of his headlights. Edging over a little more, he put on his hazards. If he got stuck in the snow…well, he just wouldn’t. He set the emergency brake before leaning across the console and opening the passenger door. “Hey, boy!”

The dog paused and looked back before continuing down the side of the road.

“Not gonna make this easy, are you, sport?” His boots sank into a snowdrift as he climbed out. He kept his attention on the dog as he plowed to the front of the truck.

When he whistled through his teeth, the animal stopped again and turned in his direction. He patted his thigh. “C’mere, boy!” Had to respect the caution of that critter. Cold, lost, likely hungry, with icicles forming on his coat, and he still wasn’t ready to run into the arms of the first guy who came along.

“It’s okay!” He crouched down and held out his hand. “Let me take you someplace warm.”

The dog took a tentative step toward him, then another. It was mostly black, with a big white patch on its chest.

“That’s it! Keep coming, buddy. I won’t hurt you.” Snow melted on his cheeks and eyelashes.

He hadn’t taken time to put on his hat or button his coat. His hair was soon plastered to his head and wet flakes soaked his shirt. But moving now could spook the dog and send it running off. It likely would freeze to death when the temperature dropped tonight.

The gap between them slowly closed. Poor critter was shivering. Luke had watched a TV show about border collies a while ago. This dog looked similar—same size, floppy ears, white and black coat. “Come on, boy! Let’s get in the warm truck. I have a nice cozy blanket waiting for you.”

At last the dog got close enough to sniff his outstretched hand. And lick it.

This might work. Luke stroked the icy fur and scratched behind the floppy ears. “It’d be best if I carry you back to the truck, buddy. Will you let me?”

Still trembling, the dog gazed into his eyes with a combination of anxiety and hope.

“Let’s go, sport.” Scooping the quivering animal into his arms, he hoisted him up and draped him around his shoulders. He’d expected some resistance, but instead the dog settled in as if used to being carried like this.

The animal didn’t behave like a stray. How had it ended up alone on the highway in a snowstorm? He got the shivering dog onto the passenger seat and closed the door. He’d left the motor running so heat poured from the vents.

By the time he slid behind the wheel, the dog had curled up on the seat. But it was still shaking and the worried expression in those brown eyes broke his heart. A soft whine was followed by a slight tail wag.

“Poor doggie. Let’s get you dried off.” Moving slowly, he reached behind the seat for a blanket. “This’ll help.” Laying it over the ice-encrusted coat, he rubbed gently. “You’ve been out here a while, haven’t you, pup?”

The whine was a little louder and the thump of the dog’s tail more animated.

“Don’t you worry. I’ll find out where you belong.” As the cab warmed, the critter gradually relaxed and heaved a deep sigh.

Luke reversed the blanket to the dry side and tucked it snugly around the dog’s body. Then he retrieved his phone from the console. Michael didn’t answer, so he left a message and put the phone back in the console.

“Here we go, pup. We’ll be in Eagles Nest before you know it. Ten minutes, fifteen, tops.” He put the truck in gear and eased back onto the deserted highway.

The dog scrambled to a sitting position and the blanket fell away.

“Easy boy.” Yikes. If the pup got agitated…but no, not a problem. An ear flicked in his direction, but otherwise the dog’s attention remained on the road ahead.

“Seasoned traveler, are you?” Thank God for small favors. “That’s good, because I’m fresh out of dog crates and I couldn’t put you in the back because it’s snowing.”

The animal gave him a quick glance before focusing on the highway.

Luke smiled. What expressive eyes. That look clearly said I know it’s snowing, genius. “So, pup, I’m asking myself what a smart critter like you is doing on a highway in a snowstorm.”

The flick of those black, floppy ears was the only indication the dog was listening.

“And no collar and tags. I’m hoping for a microchip. You got a microchip, buddy?”

The pup glanced at him again before standing and executing a head-to-tail shake, spraying water everywhere.

“Hey.” Luke wiped a hand over his dripping face. “Sit down, buddy.”

Immediately the dog’s haunches dropped.

“Well-trained, too, looks like. Somebody must be worried sick about you, sport. I just have to find that person so you can get on with your life.”

That comment netted him a doggie smile—mouth slightly open, pink tongue visible. Cute as hell. How anybody could lose a good dog like this one was beyond him.

Moments later he parked in front of the Guzzling Grizzly. Not many vehicles in the parking lot, which had been the plan. Michael co-owned the GG but he also tended bar on Sundays. He’d chosen a slow time for their meeting.

Luke turned off the engine and unfastened his seat belt. “Hang tight for a minute, pup. Let me ask if I can bring you in.”

Quickly exiting the truck, he dashed through the falling snow and into the GG. Country music served as background this time of day. Come tonight, though, Bryce McGavin and Nicole Williams would take the stage and the place would be hopping.

Only two tables were occupied now and no one sat at the bar, a gleaming dark-wood beauty that had to be close to a hundred and fifty years old.

Michael came out from behind it, hand outstretched. “You made it. What’s this about a dog?”

“He’s waiting in the truck.” Luke returned the handshake. “I didn’t want to bring him in without asking.”

“Hey, go ahead. Let’s take him back to the office. While you bring him in I’ll round up some food and water.”

“That would be great. I’m sure he’s hungry. Be right back.” Luke jogged to the truck and paused. No collar. No leash. He shrugged and opened the passenger door.

“I’ll have to carry you in, pup.” Getting the dog settled around his shoulders was easier the second time. He nudged the truck door closed with his knee. So far, so good.

But getting through the GG’s front door while keeping a grip on the dog would be a trick. Then a woman in a blue parka with a large shopping bag in one hand dashed in front of him.

“I’ll get the door.”

“Thank you, ma’am. Much obliged.” He walked through ahead of her in total violation of the cowboy code. It couldn’t be helped.

The woman followed him as he carried the dog back to the office.

“Is the dog hurt?”

“Don’t think so, ma’am. Likely just hungry and thirsty.”

“Not yours, then?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Beautiful dog.”

“Sure is.”

Michael came out of the kitchen holding two large pasta dishes.

As the dog began to quiver, Luke tightened his grip. Must have smelled the food. “Stay put, boy.”

Michael paused. “Hey, Abigail! Didn’t expect to see you today.”

“I know. Never mind me. Give that poor dog some food.”

“Sure thing.” Michael went into the office and put down the bowls. “There you go, puppy dog.”

Luke set the animal down and expected a mad dash for the food bowl. Instead the dog looked up at him as if asking permission. His heart turned over. “Go ahead, boy. Go eat.”

The dog walked to the food bowl and began gulping down the hamburger.

“Hey, thanks, Michael. Looks like he needed that.”

“No worries. Listen, one of my servers is out sick so I have to go check on a customer. Be right back.”

“Sure thing.” Luke watched the dog lick the bowl clean and move over to the water bowl next to it.

“Wow, hungry dog.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Luke glanced over at the woman Michael had called Abigail. Her name was familiar.

She pushed back her hood to reveal a mop of short, curly brown hair. “Yet that pup wasn’t going to eat until you said okay. Amazing.”

“I know. Somebody trained him really well.”

“Or her.”

“I guess it could be a her. I just assumed…”

She laughed. “With that fluffy coat, it would be hard to tell, especially if the dog’s a neutered male.”

“Guess so.” What an odd conversation to be having with a woman he’d just met. Whoops. He’d failed to introduce himself. His mother would have his hide for a slip like that. “I’m Luke Bennett, by the way.”

“Abigail Summers.” She held out her hand. “I own the—”

“Pie in the Sky Bakery.” He clasped her hand. Her grip was firm, probably from kneading dough. “I was trying to remember where I’d heard your name. I’ve only been in once with my folks over Christmas vacation to pick up a few breakfast pastries. I don’t remember seeing you.”

“I was probably delivering pies and bread to the GG. That was a super busy time.”

“I’ll bet.”

“Am I right that you’ve just relocated from Portland? I seem to remember your mom saying something like that.”

He went on alert. His mom was a recovering matchmaker who’d vowed to mend her ways. But if she’d been talking him up to Abigail, then she might have fallen off the wagon. “Did she happen to mention that I’m single?”

“No.” She looked amused. “Was she supposed to?”

“No! I just—”

“Wanted me to know you’re available?”

“Absolutely not.” Heat rose from his collar. “That came out all wrong. I’m not in the market.”

“You already have a girlfriend?”

“No, I don’t, but—”

“You’re looking for a boyfriend?”

“No.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. Could this get any worse? His mom had kept her word about not trying to set him up. Explaining her previous irritating behavior to Abigail would get him out of this fix but it wouldn’t be gallant.

A bump against his thigh made him glance down. Saved by the dog. The pup stood staring up at him as if he or she needed something.

Abigail chuckled. “That look means I need to go outside.”

He met her calm gaze. Too bad he was still embarrassed as hell. And now they were discussing the dog’s bathroom requirements. “How do you know?”

“My family had dogs when I was growing up. That’s the look they give you when they need to take care of business.” The corners of her mouth tilted up. “And then you’ll know if it’s a boy or a girl.”

“I don’t have a collar and leash.”

Opening her coat, she unwound a long scarf from around her neck. “Use this.”

“I don’t think—”

“Use it.” She shook it at him. “Tomorrow you can buy a leash. Today you need to improvise.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“You’re welcome.”

The scarf worked like a charm. He secured it around the dog’s neck and led the critter out the front door and over to an area beside the parking lot. As the dog squatted to relieve herself, he had his answer. He’d rescued a girl.