Luke disconnected the call and his chest tightened when he looked at Delilah. This really, really, sucked.

He cleared his throat. “Somebody brought another flyer to the shelter, pup. This time the number’s clearly visible.”

She picked up on his tone immediately. Instead of smiling and wagging her tail, she came over, laid her head on his knee and gazed up at him with a worried expression. Like she could read his mind.

“I have to call.” He ruffled her ears. “Maybe they had a legitimate reason for not following up. I need to give them a chance to explain. And if the reason’s good enough…” He chose not to finish the sentence.

And today had been such a good one, too. He’d met with a new client this morning and he’d spent the afternoon in his office pulling together a marketing plan for his mom’s barn venue.

In about fifteen minutes he’d leave for Pie in the Sky. He’d estimated that he and Abby would need a week to sort and record everything in the box, but it was only Wednesday and they were almost done.

He might have to slow down. He loved the dynamic and wasn’t eager to change it. The routine allowed them to get to know each other, in bed and out.

Everything had been going great. Now this. He set his phone down because holding it was a reminder of what he had to do. Abby wouldn’t like this any better than he did. She’d been so convinced no one would claim Delilah. Or whatever the dog’s real name was.

“You know what, pup? Let’s make the call from Abby’s apartment. That way I can put the phone on speaker and she can hear what the person has to say. I’ll feel better if she’s there to help me evaluate whether they should get you back. Because they won’t if they’re the least bit dicey.”

She wagged her tail in slow motion, as if she understood something critical was on the line.

“Okay. We have a game plan.” Likely the people weren’t dicey. As Kendra had said, Delilah wouldn’t be such a good dog if she’d come from a bad home. But he’d cling to the possibility, anyway, because he couldn’t imagine this house without Delilah in it.

He arrived at the bakery as Abby and Ingrid were tidying up in preparation for closing. He unsnapped the leash so they could each give his dog a biscuit. No, not his dog. Calling her that was a bad habit that had crept up on him.

Both women fussed over Delilah. It was hard to watch when it could be the end of such rituals.

Abby glanced at him. “Are you all right?”

“Sure.” He snapped out of his funk.

“Is there a problem with a client?”

“No, ma’am.” He smiled. “Maybe I just need a biscuit.”

“Why didn’t you say so?” She pulled an oatmeal raisin cookie out of the case and brought it to him. “Do you know any tricks?”

“Tons. Remind me and I’ll show you some later.”

“Okay, you two lovebirds,” Ingrid called over. “Have pity on the lonely and frustrated among you.”

“Sorry, Ingrid,” he called back. “When’s that guy of yours coming out?”

“Spring.”

Spring. He’d looked forward to warm weather and long rides through meadows of wildflowers. Wouldn’t be as much fun, now. Spot On would miss Delilah, too. They’d become buddies.

“You’re doing it again.”

“What?”

“The sad eyes.”

“You’d be sad, too, if someone promised you a cookie and didn’t deliver.”

“Here’s your cookie,” she said gently.

“Thanks.” He lowered his voice. “I’ll tell you when we get upstairs.”

“Okay.” She blew him a kiss and went back to cleaning out the bakery case.

“Is the trash ready to go out?”

“Sure is.”

“All righty, Delilah! Get the trash, girl!”

She pranced over and picked up one bulging bag gently in her teeth. He grabbed the other. Clipping the leash to her collar, he led her out the door and around to the bin in the alley.

She’d learned the trick in about thirty minutes of practice on Monday afternoon. Remarkable dog. If the people who’d put out the flyer didn’t understand how special she was, then they weren’t getting her. But they probably did know.

By the time he came back, Ingrid was on her way out the door and Abby was right behind her.

She locked up quickly. “That does it for today.” She stroked Delilah’s head. “Thanks for taking out the trash, you two. Great teamwork.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Ingrid held the outside door for them and they all trooped upstairs.

“I’ll be in Roxanne’s room if you need me for anything,” Ingrid said over her shoulder.

“Are you going to tell her about the cherry pie?”

“Sure, why not? She’ll get a kick out of knowing her dad was such a hit.”

“Her dad was here?” News to him.

“Just for a few hours,” Abby said. “Drove from Spokane.”

“Hefty drive to do twice in one day.”

“He seemed fine with it.” She unzipped her parka as she topped the stairs and walked the short distance to her place.

Normally he couldn’t wait to be alone with her. But today he had bad news or what could be bad news. For them, at least. Maybe not for Delilah.

She turned as he closed the door behind him and unclipped Delilah’s leash. “What is it?”

“I have the number for the people who put out the flyer.”

“Oh, Luke.” Her shoulders sagged. “I take it you haven’t called.”

“I decided to wait so you could hear the call and help me judge whether they measure up.”

“Good. I’m glad you did. And maybe she’s not the dog in the flyer.”

“She is. You know she is.”

Delilah had gone to her toy box and picked up the leg she’d chewed off one of her stuffed animals. Ever since she’d amputated that leg, she’d enjoyed strolling around with it dangling out of her mouth.

Normally it made him laugh. Not today.

“Ask them to describe her in detail.” Abby took off her parka and went to the hall closet. “Not just what she looks like, but how she acts.” She hung up her parka and stepped back.

He put his jacket on a hanger and laid his hat on a shelf she’d cleared for him. “Like the way she waits for one of us to tell her it’s okay to eat. They should mention that. It’s distinctive.” He went back to the living room, pulled out his phone and started pacing. “What else?”

“They should tell you she’s brilliant, the smartest dog they’ve ever had.”

He nodded. “What about her affinity for horses and ranch life? Kendra thinks she lived on one.”

“Maybe, but that might be instinct kicking in. But the herding thing she does with her peeps—they should definitely tell you about that.”

“Yeah.”

“Thank you for letting me be a part of this.”

He held her gaze. “I could pretend I did it for your sake, but really it’s for mine. I wanted you with me.”

Her eyes glowed with emotion. “That’s…good to hear.”

He took a shaky breath and scrolled through his contacts for the one marked Delilah. “Okay. Calling, now.” He tapped the number and put the call on speaker.

“Hello?” The woman who answered sounded elderly.

“Ma’am, my name’s Luke Bennett and I’m calling from Montana.” His heart raced. “I have a dog here who might be the one you lost.”

“You mean Daisy? You found Daisy?”

“Maybe. If you could describe your dog, ma’am, we’ll see if it’s the same—”

“Let me get my husband. He spent more time with her than I did.”

Luke glanced at Abby.

She was frowning. “Suspicious,” she murmured. “If she’s lived with a dog, she should be able to—”

“Hello?” The guy sounded elderly, too. “Mr. Bennett, is it?”

“Yes, sir. I think I might have—”

“Right, right. Daisy. Jumped out of the car at a rest stop. We didn’t have a crate for her, see, and I had to get out to use the restroom. She bolted and disappeared. Snowing, you know.”

“I do know.”

“We went back to Bozeman, had some flyers printed, waited for the snow to let up and posted them around town. Didn’t think it would do much good.”

His description of the circumstances gnawed at Luke’s remaining kernel of hope. “I got your number from a flyer.”

“Huh. Amazing.”

“Sir, if you could describe your dog, that will help us decide—”

“All black except for this white patch on her chest. Floppy ears. Think she has quite a bit of border collie in her.”

Luke bowed his head. “I see. Could you…ah…describe her behavior, anything unusual she does?”

“Let me think. Oh, one peculiar thing about Daisy. My brother was a devout man and he taught that dog to wait while he said grace over her food. She won’t eat until you tell her to go ahead. She’s waiting for the prayer to end.”

It was her. Luke glanced at Abby. Her eyes glimmered with tears and she’d pressed her hand to her mouth. He looked away again. Somehow he had to get through this conversation.

“She was your brother’s dog?”

“Yes, sir.”

“How long have you had her?”

“Oh, I guess we had her about a week.”

“A week?”

“That’s how long it took us to handle the funeral arrangements, sort out the legalities of the trust and hire a real estate agent to sell the ranch. My brother had things well organized, though. We packed up the few family items we wanted, took the dog, and headed back here.”

“I suppose she’s special to you, since she was your brother’s dog. You probably—”

“Actually, my wife’s not a dog person, but we felt obligated. When your brother dies, and entrusts his beloved dog to you, you can’t just drop her off at a shelter. Some might, but we couldn’t.”

Hope became a warm place in Luke’s heart. “Are you saying you’re not eager to have her back?”

“I’m saying that we’ll come get her because we don’t expect others like yourself to assume our burdens.”

“Sir, she’s not a burden to me.” The warm place expanded. He risked looking at Abby. Tears ran down her cheeks but her expression was pure joy. “In fact, with your permission, I’d be honored to keep her.”

“You’re a dog person?”

“Evidently so. Or at least I’m this dog’s person.”

Abby sniffed. Then she knelt, wrapped her arms around Delilah and buried her face in the dog’s thick ruff. Delilah gazed at him and smiled.

“Do you have room for her to run around? She needs that. We retired to a patio home with a postage stamp for a yard. I hadn’t figured out how I’d—”

“I have all kinds of room.” Adrenaline made his voice shake and he paused to take a breath. “Five acres. I live next door to a big ranch. That’s where I stable my horse.”

“Son, that’s exactly what Daisy needs, way better than bringing her down here to live with us. By the way, how’d you happen to find her?”

Luke swallowed. “I didn’t. She found me.”