CHAPTER TEN
Serena hesitated for a moment. Sensible people didn’t step into floods. This was the kind of thing you saw people doing on the news, then getting swept away in water far deeper than they’d expected.
Still, the dog couldn’t be more than a hundred feet away. Now that she knew the house was there, she could glimpse it past a thin clump of trees. Sandro was already splashing across the puddle-strewn lawn.
“There’s a fence.” Sandro climbed over a crumbling picket fence, then helped her over. The property next door was lower, and already water crept over their shoes.
They hurried to the porch. Up close the house was small, old and poorly maintained. Not a safe place to ride out a storm. “If there’s someone in here, they should come into our house. A flood could wash this one away.” She cleared her throat and called, “Hello!”
The dog barked like crazy, straining at its leash, which was a steel cable like a bike lock.
“Is anyone home?” shouted Sandro. He strode up to the door and banged on it with his fist. “Come next door with us. The street’s flooding.”
Serena approached the dog, which had started growling and snarling. “It’s okay, sweetheart, we’re here to help.” She spoke softly, trying not to sound too nervous. Dogs could pick up on that. The steel cord attached to a rusted metal ring screwed into the porch column. “I’ll have to detach it at the collar.” There was a carabiner clip there. “But I need a leash so it doesn’t run off.”
“I’ll grab it.” Sandro rushed over.
“It might bite.”
“I’ll take my chances.”
Oddly, the dog quieted, turning submissive as they both loomed over it, and Sandro took it in his firm hands. She unclipped the leash, and he clutched the stunned dog to his chest.
“No one’s home. No lights, no answer,” he said through the rain. “Let’s get out of here.”
The rain and wind together were blinding, and water now lapped at their ankles as they struggled back over the ramshackle picket fence and up across the soggy lawn of the newer house.
Serena battled the wind, trying to get the door closed behind them. When she finally slammed it shut she turned the dead bolt. “The water is rising.” Her voice shook. “What if it gets really deep?”
“This house is sturdy. It’ll hold.” He stroked the dog, which now shivered in the cool air that lingered even though they’d turned the air-conditioning off.
“Let me get a towel.” She grabbed the hand towel from the powder room and quickly ruffled it through the dog’s soggy fur. Now longer growling or even barking, the dog stared at them with wide blue eyes. “I think it’s saying thank you.”
“It should. It could have drowned out there.”
“We should get upstairs.”
“You go on up.” He handed her the dog, which settled into her arms. She expected it to be heavy, but it barely weighed anything. “Let me check on the chicken and potatoes.”
She laughed. She’d forgotten all about them. “Okay. I guess we’ll be having a picnic up there.”
She held the little dog close. He was black and white with longish hair, probably fluffy when dry, and he had big, mournful blue eyes. She’d always wanted a dog when she was little. Her parents were far too sensible to get one. Just like she was too sensible to get one now. A dog was a big responsibility.
She couldn’t believe someone would leave this one out on the porch in a big storm. It had a bowl of water, which the rain had refilled, but she hadn’t seen any food.
The dog sniffed the air. “You can smell that chicken, huh? Well, I bet there will be enough for you, too.” It had a pointed black nose, which it turned up at her, and as she bent down it reached up and licked her face.
She recoiled from its wet tongue but couldn’t help smiling. “Doggy kisses?” Then she whispered, “I think those are safer than the other kind that you rescued me from.”
She looked around. It would make sense to bring all the plates and cups they might need upstairs. “What should we call him? Or is it a her?” She peeked. “He’s a him.”
“I suppose Lucky is too clichéd?” He pulled the chicken out of the oven.
The dog was riveted and drooled on her arm at the smell. “I think it’s perfect. You are Lucky. If you didn’t bark so loud.…” She shuddered at the thought of Lucky’s fate and kissed his head. She managed to gather some plates and cutlery with her free hand and a bowl for Lucky.
“Let me sauté the vegetables, and we’ll be ready to eat.”
“I think Lucky’s ready right now. I’ll put him down upstairs, then I’ll come back for more stuff.”
Upstairs she put the plates on a dresser and set Lucky down on the soft bedding in one of the bedrooms. No sooner had she turned her back than Lucky was following her back out of the room.
“Stay!”
Lucky cocked a black-and-white ear.
“You do know what I’m saying. Stay!” She turned and left the room, but when she reached the bottom of the stairs, whining made her turn to see him up at the top. “You didn’t stay. I don’t think you know how to climb down stairs, though, do you?”
The poor little dog looked desperate enough to hurl himself down. “I’m coming back for you. Hold on.” She climbed the stairs and picked him up again. “You’ll just have to help me get the glasses and napkins.”
Sandro had stuffed the chicken and put it on a big serving platter. He now spooned roast potatoes and sautéed greens around it.
“That looks so good.”
“Sure you don’t want your turkey roll?” He lifted a brow.
“You might be grateful for that two days from now when we’re waiting to be airlifted out of here.”
“Somehow that doesn’t sound so bad.” He flashed a warm grin that turned her insides to liquid.