Where Angels Go (Angels Everywhere #6)(36)

“You might have another family that loves you even more than I do.” Carter’s voice broke as he spoke to the dog.

“Carter,” his mother said softly. “As soon as we can afford it, you’ll have your dog. I talked to Mrs. Smith at the school, and she said there’ll be an opening at the cafeteria in February. I’m going to apply for it and if I get the job, then you can have a dog.”

Hope flared and then just as quickly died. “But it won’t be Rusty.”

“No,” his mother agreed, “it won’t be Rusty.”

“I don’t want any dog except Rusty.”

“Oh, Carter.”

“I mean it, Mom. Rusty’s the only dog I want.”

“I should never have let you bring him in the house,” his mother said, and she sounded angry with herself. “It just makes this more difficult. I’m so sorry, honey, but your dad’s right. We can’t give Rusty the kind of home he needs.”

“Rusty is Carter’s dog,” Bailey wailed. She held her Pooh bear tight against her chest, as if she was afraid their father would take her stuffed friend to the animal shelter, too.

“Can I call Grandma?” Carter asked. His grandparents were his last hope. If he explained everything to them, maybe they’d be willing to pay for the checkup, the dog license and whatever else Rusty needed.

“Your grandparents are gone this weekend,” his mother said.

“I can’t call them?”

“No, Carter, they’re visiting friends in Seattle.”

“Oh.”

Carter knew he didn’t have any choice. He had to give up his dog. He spent all morning with Rusty, talking to him. Bailey used her own hairbrush to comb the dog’s fur until it was shiny and bright. Rusty stood still and even seemed to enjoy Bailey’s ministrations.

Midafternoon, his father came into Carter and Bailey’s bedroom. “You ready, son?” he asked.

Carter wouldn’t ever be ready. He hugged Rusty around the neck, face buried in his fur, and nodded.

“You don’t have to come with me.”

“I want to,” Carter said stubbornly.

His father sighed. “Okay, then. Let’s go.”

Rusty seemed to think they were going to a fun place, because the instant David opened the car door, he leaped inside and lay down in the backseat next to Carter.

His father didn’t say a single word on the ride to the shelter in Wenatchee.

Neither did Carter. He stroked Rusty’s head and struggled not to cry.

The county animal shelter was busy. Lots of people had come by to choose dogs and cats during the Christmas holidays. Some other family would be getting Rusty. Some other little boy would get Carter’s special dog.

“You can stay in the car if you want,” his father told him.

“No.” Carter was determined to be with his dog as long as he possibly could.

His father went inside the shelter and came back with a woman who was carrying a collar and leash. Carter listened as his father spoke to the lady.

“My son found Rusty in the schoolyard, and the dog followed him home. According to my wife, the poor thing was caked in mud. He seems to be a gentle dog, and he’s obviously had some training, so I assume he’s lost.”

His father opened the passenger door and Rusty raised his head expectantly.

The woman reached into the car and stroked Rusty’s head. “Oh, what an attractive dog he is. Probably part Irish setter—they’re a nice breed. We could’ve adopted him out a dozen times over earlier in the day.”

This wasn’t news Carter wanted to hear. “What about his other family? My dad said there might be other people who owned Rusty.” That was his one comfort—that bringing Rusty to the shelter might help the dog locate his original owner.

The lady from the shelter sighed. “His other family didn’t take very good care of him, though, did they?” she said. “Rusty didn’t have any identification on him, did he?”

“No,” Carter admitted.

She examined the insides of Rusty’s ears. “No tattoos, either.”

“How will you figure out who owns him, then?” Carter asked.

“We can check for a microchip, but I doubt we’ll find one. Without that, there’s no way of knowing where his family is,” she explained. “Still, this is the best time of year to guarantee him a good home. I’m sure he’ll be adopted quickly. That’s what you want for him, isn’t it?” She looked directly at Carter.

Hard though it was to agree, Carter nodded. With his heart breaking, he threw his arms around Rusty for one last hug.

15

A ll day Rosalie had been fluttering about the house, getting ready for their daughters’ arrival. Harry was exhausted by all the activity around him. She’d changed the sheets on the beds and while he wanted to help her with the guest room, he couldn’t. Without his saying a word, his wife seemed to realize how much he hated his physical limitations. Twice she made a special trip into the family room, where Harry sat watching television, to give him a kiss on the forehead.

“Donna will get here tomorrow afternoon,” Rosalie announced for about the tenth time that morning. “Donna and Richard are coming first, and Lorraine and Kenny will drive over on Christmas Eve. The grandkids are coming then, too. Did I tell you that already?”