Page 28 of Fragile Sanctuary

I snagged the bag from my pocket and tossed it to him without saying a word. The motion of Anson catching the bag made my new pup’s snarls intensify, but Anson simply ignored them. He opened the bag and palmed a few of the liver treats.

The dog kept up his low growls but sniffed the air.

Anson tossed a treat at the dog’s feet. He stopped growling just long enough to gobble it down.

“Give the leash some slack,” Anson said, keeping his eyes downcast.

I glanced between the dog and the broody bastard. “You sure about that?” Anson might be on my shit list, but I didn’t want him mauled by my newest foster.

“Give him some slack, Reckless,” he echoed.

I scowled at the nickname but gave the dog another couple feet of leash. It would let him have some freedom but not enough that he could take a chunk out of Anson’s face.

Just as I gave the slack, Anson tossed treats. One. Two. Three. The dog couldn’t eat the snacks and charge Anson. He went for the treats.

“Good boy,” Anson said, his voice low as he tossed two more treats.

The dog’s growls subsided, and Anson made a clicking noise with his tongue, tossing two more treats. “You got a clicker?”

My brows furrowed. “Like for the garage?”

“No,” Anson said, still not looking up. “Training tool. The sound marks good behavior. You can click faster than you can get them a treat. The click lets them know they did something good, and a reward is coming.”

I did basic training with all the dogs that came into my care, but it was more about getting them used to certain stimuli and making sure they were potty-trained.

Anson showed the dog the treat and then lifted it into the air. My new pup plunked his butt right on the ground. Anson clicked and tossed the treat.

Without making a sound, Anson lined up treats that led closer to him. The dog took the first two easily but then started to get a bit apprehensive. He would dart forward and then back. But Anson simply stayed still, letting him do what he needed.

Slowly, the dog nosed closer. He took one treat, then another. Finally, Anson held out his palm with two treats on it. The dog keptlooking between the treats and Anson. In a blur of motion, the dog took a treat and dashed back.

Anson made the clicking noise and tossed another treat a few feet away from him. The dog took it and then hurried back to my side. Anson rose, taking his time to make sure there were no sudden movements.

I stared at him as if he were an entirely different human than anyone I’d met before. “What was that?”

Anson just stared at me, not answering.

“You’ve been nothing but a grumpy asshole since I met you. But with him…”

“Don’t do people. Love dogs.” And with that, he stalked back to the main site and his crew.

I looked down at my new friend. “What the hell was that?”

The dog just stared up at me, tongue lolling.

I shook my head. “Come on, let’s get you inside. I really hope you don’t puke after all those treats.”

I showed my pup around the tiny guest cottage, letting him sniff to his heart’s content. Then as he settled on a dog bed by the fireplace, I got to work hauling in his food and other essentials. I kept a lot of things on hand, but each animal had a different type of food, meds, and other paraphernalia.

By the time I got everything inside, the pup was snoring so loudly it was a wonder the walls didn’t shake. Since he was fast asleep, I headed back outside and hit my key fob to open the SUV’s back hatch.

As it swung up, various brightly colored blooms met my gaze. As much as I never decorated the inside of my home to Nora’s satisfaction, my garden, porch, and deck were the places I always made mine. Sinking my hands into soil and creating a cacophony of color and texture made me feel closer to my mom, even though she was gone.

Having the garden spaces around the guest cottage lie fallow, and the small porches empty, made me twitchy. So, there was only one solution. Fill them.

I hauled out bags of soil, carrying them toward the array of pots in various shapes, sizes, and colors. Then I got to work on the flats offlowers and the larger statement blooms. By the time everything was out of my SUV and by the side of the house, my hair was sticking to the back of my neck. Spring was definitely here.

Bending over, I pulled all the strands into a chaotic bun, tying it off with a hair band. I had to buy specialty ones because the regular kind simply snapped with the force of my tendrils.

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