Raphaela's Gift (37 page)

Hailey Jensen is in the rescue business--animal rescue--and more than willing to risk life and limb for fowl or fauna. Just when life couldn't get better, her world crumbles. Her identical twin has cancer, and her marine rescue is failing before it even gets started. Lacking coping skills, she takes refuge behind sarcasm and solitude.

But, thanks to Dr. Rainer Hartmann, her sister's friend and a man who mistakes overbearing control for helping, she finds herself on the opposite end of the control stick. A wildly independent woman, Hailey fights with the determination of a bulldog as Rainer struggles to drag her out of despair...and into his arms.

An Excerpt From:
RESCUE ME

Copyright © SYDNEY ALLAN, 2011

Some days were better spent in bed, safe from the whim of fate. Hailey Jensen had the feeling this was one of those days.

"Why do these things happen to me?" She watched the emaciated dog creep out of sight around the corner of the battered building and threw her hands up in desperation.

"What are we gonna do?" Amy whispered, her voice shaky.

Hailey turned to watch the retreating group behind her. The backs of their shirts read, "CS Marine Rescue Society", and they ran toward the shore where a beached whale lay suffocating. She should be with them. She'd driven almost ten hours to gain experience with marine rescue.

But she couldn't go. Her conscience wouldn't allow it, no matter how much the lost opportunity meant to her.

"I don't know." Hailey turned back to the building and slicked her hair, sticky with sweat, from her face before gathering it into a ponytail. However, the action failed to calm the currents of confusion churning within. It didn't keep her hair under control, either. A wayward strand, glossy, black and irritating, hung across her face. The salty ocean wind lifted the hair then sent it whipping against her cheek.

The dog yelped. Again.

Marine rescue was her future, but rescuing the land-roving, four-legged variety was her present. The dog limping around a dilapidated warehouse was in desperate need of help. There wasn't anyone else. The marine rescue group was already attending to the suffering whale, and they'd need every member to return the animal to the water.

After a few deep breaths, she nodded to her employee.

Amy nodded back, but Hailey swore she saw disappointment in the young woman's mocha-colored eyes.

"You can go with the whale group if you want," Hailey offered.

"No. I'll stay with you."

"I'm sorry. I know when you agreed to come, you expected--"

"Shut up, and let's go get the dog." Amy grinned, the expression no doubt an attempt to soften her tone. "I drove over nine hours to see a rescue, and a rescue I expect to see. Whale, dog, what's the difference?"

Hailey was beginning to like Amy more and more. She had spunk.

Since Amy was new--been working at Hailey's shelter, Paws and Claws, for a week--they hadn't become well acquainted yet. At work Amy was serious and quiet. Reserved, but also focused, and an excellent behaviorist for someone so young and fresh out of college. Because hours traveling in a car had a way of dissolving polite reservation, Hailey had a better idea of the gem she'd found in Amy.

After rummaging through her cluttered Ford Focus and finding a leash, Hailey motioned toward the warehouse. "Ready?"

"The dog went inside--through that hole over there." Amy pointed at a split in the metal wall.

Frustrated already, Hailey scrubbed her face with her palms. "Okay. Let's go get it."

"What if someone's in there?"

"We'll knock first to make sure. Besides, we won't go in. No sense getting shot or arrested for breaking and entering. If we can't lure the dog out, we'll call the police."

The tension in Amy's face eased. When the tight line of her jaw softened, returning to its natural state, Hailey took that as her cue to head toward the door.

She hated these kinds of rescues--they screamed of the unexpected. This one was not only out of her territory, which officially surrounded the small town of Sequoia Valley in northern California, but it also treaded upon the fine line between legal and illegal, given her lack of authority here.

After all, she should probably notify local animal control, not play hero.

But the dog's miserable appearance, its obviously emaciated state and near-death hobble, compelled her to act quickly. If the police showed up, surely they'd understand.

Going to jail for trespassing was not on the agenda for today.

Granted, neither was rescuing an emaciated dog.

She glanced at her watch. Eight-thirty. She had two hours, maybe two and a half. That left plenty of time to return to her hotel room, shower and dress for her appointment. Two hours should be ample time to coax a starving dog from a warehouse.

The rusted steel structure in question leaned to the left and was surrounded by rubble, its forbidding state heightening Hailey's worries. Any number of dangers lurked within those dented walls, the least of which might be the dog.

Before she approached the building, she rummaged through the remains of breakfast for something to coax the animal from its supposed haven. The reward: a chunk of sausage. She slipped the morsel into her pocket, slid on some gloves and headed to the door, where Amy waited.

Hailey motioned toward the door. "Anyone answer?"

Amy shook her head. "Nope, and I pounded like I meant it. What should we do?"

Hailey walked to the building's corner. About twenty feet down she caught sight of a window. Fingers crossed, and hoping the view inside wouldn't be blocked, she scrambled over bags of trash, sodden cardboard, stacked pallets and tipped metal drums to the window. A few stray cats bound from the containers as she kicked them, making her even jumpier.

With hands cupped around her eyes to block out the morning sun's glare, she peered inside.

It was dark, but she spied lights. Small, reflective... "Oh my God!" she whispered. "Those aren't lights. They're eyes. Dozens of them."

"What do you see?"

Hailey motioned Amy to the window. "You have to see this."

"What?" Amy struggled through, over, and around the obstacles between them. "What is it?"

"Animals. Lots of them. Look!"

Amy peered in.

"See those shiny things--they look like lights, but they move. They're eyes."

"Oh." Amy dropped her hands. "What do we do now? We can't get all the animals out by ourselves. Even if we could, what would we do with them?"

"We have to call the authorities."

"What about the dog?" Another round of yips and howls sounded from inside as though the dog knew what they were discussing.

"We can't go inside. We have no idea what we're dealing with. Those eyes could belong to wild dogs."

"In Los Angeles?" Amy's eyebrows raised behind her blond bangs.

"Hey, you never know. I saw packs of wild dogs in Detroit."

"Well, we have to do something. I'm going to try to get it out. I think the door's unlocked." Amy started toward the front.

She didn't get far before Hailey caught her by the arm. "I can't stop you, since this isn't an official work trip, but I think you're making a mistake. Why don't we think about this for a minute? We can go back to the car and call the police. They'll be here in--"

"We're in Los Angeles. You've been living in Sequoia Valley too long, forgotten how slow the police can be in a big city. Especially for calls like this. They could take hours to respond."

Hailey hadn't considered that. Amy was right, although the slam about her small-town mentality stung a little. The police had more pressing matters to attend. Time was something she couldn't spare today. She felt bad enough missing the whale rescue, but missing the appointment with Mrs. Barrington...no way she could afford that. "Maybe we can find a neighbor to help--" She stopped as Amy swept her arms in a wide circle. There wasn't another building in sight--at least nothing habitable for a human. A few dilapidated boathouses sat at the water's edge, hanging over the shallow bay waters. Nothing else.

Hailey sighed. "Okay. But let me take the risks. At least I'm insured."

Amy rolled her eyes but smiled. "Whatever you say."

Hailey drew in a deep breath, relishing for a moment the sting of the salt hanging in the air and its lingering tang, wishing it would ease her rising fear. The jarring premonition that something bad was about to happen made her heart thump. She sucked in another deep gulp of air.

After finding the door unlocked, Hailey pulled it open slowly, standing to the side in case an animal charged from the inky blackness within. Nothing happened.

"Here poochy, poochy, poochy," she called, removing the meat from her pocket and waving it inside the doorway. When no dog appeared, she knew she'd have to go inside.

Her footsteps echoed as she stepped through the entry, and scratches sounded all around, suggesting dozens of animals skittering in the darkness. The stench of death and sickness turned her stomach, and ammonia burned her eyes. They blurred instantly, making it even harder to see.

Leash in hand, Hailey fought the urge to touch her face with her gloves, grimy from cleaning dog kennels and past rescues. Instead, she blinked away the wetness and struggled to control her overactive gag reflex.

No mistaking that smell. Cat urine. The warehouse could belong to a cat collector, or the cats could be strays. She'd know if she could see. If she found food dishes or litter boxes, she could safely assume the animals were pets. Removing a glove, she fumbled along the wall, searching for a light switch. Her fingertip brushed against something that felt promising.

Snap.

A flood of white light blinded her. She blinked and squinted for a moment to accustom her eyes. Once they adjusted, she scanned the building's interior and gasped.

In twenty-eight years of life, and five years of animal rescue, she'd never seen anything like this--and she'd seen some hellholes.

The warehouse was trashed. Animal feces and matted hair coated the walls, floors and windows. Hundreds of cats, their coats filthy, their glowing eyes fixed, huddled on top, between and under boxes.

The place was a disease den. Her skin itched. The tiny feet of imagined insects crawled over her.

"Do you see the dog yet?" Amy asked from the doorway. "God, it reeks in here! And is that? Poop? Nasty!"

"I love my work. I love my work," Hailey repeated. A chant she'd adopted recently, as enthusiasm began to slip away. Her work was noble, did people and animals a huge service. It was rewarding to see an animal adopted into a new home and enjoy a new life.

What more could she want?

She approached the brown smeared window at the building's back, tripping on overflowing litter boxes, empty food dishes, soiled rags and cardboard containers. Spellbound, she stared beyond the trash-overrun yard. Such a short distance away, the ocean kissed the land.

Her new life lay at that juncture.

A shout from behind jolted her to the present, and she glanced at her watch. No time for reverie. A malnourished dog, and who knew how many cats, needed her. Her dreams would have to wait a few more hours.

"I found it," Amy called from the building's opposite side. She tipped her head toward a shadowed corner as Hailey neared. "The dog looks bad. I got a quick look before it hid again. I think it's a she, and I think she's pregnant, though she's skinny as hell."

"Darn," Hailey whispered before stooping down. With a soft voice and the sausage, she managed to lure the dog, barking, yet timid, from its hiding place.

Amidst unmentionable filth stood the black, mangy dog. Every rib showed. Hipbones and vertebrae protruded under a dull coat, making Hailey want to scream in rage. The dog shivered, its head held high, but its stubby tail remained tucked against its rump.

"Pathetic," Amy whispered.

"Problem is, she won't come out of here. I can tell from the way she's standing. She'd rather fight us than leave this dump."

"You'd think she'd jump at the chance."

"I know," Hailey said as she studied the dog's body a second time. "It's hard to understand, but I'm not surprised. She doesn't know who we are, or what we're going to do. Poor thing." The abdomen was swollen. Either the dog was pregnant, or she was sick. "We have to get her to a vet, but I don't think the leash'll work. I didn't bring any control sticks. Didn't think we'd need them for a whale rescue." She searched the room. "I looked in this corner once. I wonder where she was hiding."

"In there, I think." Amy motioned toward a small hole in the back wall.

From Hailey's position, she couldn't tell where the opening led. "I definitely don't want her to go back in there. We'd have to knock the wall down to get to her." She waved the sausage closer to the animal, pleased when the dog's nose lifted to sniff the air. Ever so slowly, the fearful animal crept closer, desperation in its eyes.

As Hailey peered into the dark depths, her heart raced. "Come on, baby. We won't hurt you."