Home Is Where Your Bark Is

Chapter 28

As he walked up to his Jeep for the second time in twenty minutes, Jake dragged a hand through his snow-soaked hair and pulled in a long breath. The adrenaline that had been carrying him through was waning, and the fatigue of uncertainty was creeping in.

His gaze fell to the tracks in the snow that surrounded his Jeep. Even this second time, the sight of them had tears stinging his eyes, had his knees close to buckling. It wouldn’t take much for the sobs to rip through him, but crying wasn’t something Jake had done in years. It wasn’t something he allowed himself to do, just like using the word love . Maybe that’s why he’d held off getting a dog so long; you could keep people at bay much easier than you could dogs.

And now this. Even as he wanted to shove away the reality of it—to not feel it—there was no denying how deeply the dog had worked his way right past all Jake’s barriers, and for the first time, Jake saw how he may have worked his way past some of Seven’s, in return.

Navigating unfamiliar side streets and alleys, the dog had made his way back here. To Jake’s Jeep. He’d circled it a few times, the leash trailing at his side and leaving a trail of its own. Judging by the messy prints on the driver’s side window, Seven had even planted both front paws up there for a look inside before he took off again.

In the first ten minutes or so after Jake had lost his grip on the leash, he’d spotted Seven twice and had been close to catching him, but both times the terrified dog had scurried away before Jake could grab the leash. The first time, one of the departing parade goers had tossed a beer can at a friend and missed, and it had skimmed across the street loudly in Seven’s direction, beer spraying.

The second time, after spotting Seven barking at him on the other side between cars, Jake had stepped into the middle of the street to stop traffic for fear of Seven getting hit. As far as Jake was concerned, the only approaching driver had been way too far away to warrant the severity of the horn blowing that had proceeded, sending Seven bolting off down the street once again. Jake had made this opinion clear by unleashing a few choice expletives in the driver’s direction before he took off after the terrified dog.

Jake had wanted to believe Seven had been running away from other people more than from Jake, and these footsteps cemented it in. Seven hadn’t been running from him; he’d simply been terrified.

“Let me find you and get you safe, buddy. I’ll never fail you like this again. I promise.”

After spotting Seven’s tracks here, Jake had trailed them for a couple blocks as they veered between the sidewalk and the grass before they disappeared at 111th and South Longwood Drive. Had someone managed to catch hold of Seven’s leash and pull him into a car? Or had Seven weaved through traffic and come out somewhere on the other side or even further down on the same side, but Jake had not found the tracks?

Locking his hands along the edge of the roof, Jake leaned forward and pressed his forehead against the window of this driver’s side door. As he pulled in a breath, he swore he could smell Seven’s wet-dog scent still clinging to the glass.

What was he supposed to do now? Hang around here and hope Seven circled back again? Get in the Jeep and drive around in hopes of catching a glimpse of him God only knew where?

Pulling out his phone, Jake checked for a call he hadn’t heard come in only to confirm it wasn’t there. Even so, he placed another call to Jenna. Once again, it went straight to voicemail.

Clearly something had gone wrong for her not to have shown up here or to respond to any of his texts or calls. While the parade had still been going on, with so many people congregating in one space, her phone had rung and rung until it eventually went to voicemail—a sign of the patchy service in the thick of the crowd. But not anymore. Now calls were going to voicemail. Maybe her battery is dead.

Only she was supposed meet him here. How long did he give her? It was snowing heavily now, and Seven’s tracks would be covered over soon. It was almost a quarter after four, and he’d last seen Jenna around two thirty, maybe a little after. Thinking back to that kiss and the look in her eye, he couldn’t fathom that she’d had a change of heart about meeting him. Something had come up.

“Whatever it is, she’s not coming, or she’d have been here by now.”

Resisting the urge to relieve some of the tension inside him through a swift kick of the door, an action he’d regret later, Jake headed to the rear of his Jeep and opened the tailgate. His thick hoodie, Converse shoes, and jeans were soaked from the snow. He stripped out of his hoodie, leaving his mostly dry thermal on, and grabbed the jacket and plaid pants. Maybe they were tight in the crotch, but at least they were dry.

Sight of the backpack he’d packed with water and more treats for Seven had his stomach tightening.

Shutting the tailgate, he headed to the driver’s side door, got inside, and wedged the soaked Converses off his feet. He turned on the ignition and set the heat to high—his fingertips had gone entirely numb, and the rest of him wasn’t far behind—then moved his seat back as far as it would go. Snow covered the windshield, blanketing him in what had become a quiet late afternoon. He stripped out of his jeans and pulled on the plaid pants, even though doing so while still so wet was a bit like getting dressed right out of a shower.

“Tell me how I find you, Seven. Do that for me, will you?”

He had a dozen friends he could call on to help scour the streets with him, but could he really ask them to head out in this? His brother—who drove an F-150 and who’d do anything Jake asked him to—lived an hour and a half away. Even though Jake itched to place a call to him, he refrained.

Instead, he pulled up the number for the shelter, hoping they hadn’t closed early and that Alice would be there. It ended up taking a few minutes to get her on the line, but she was there, and her somewhat crass, no-nonsense tone proved to be an unexpected comfort as it washed over his speakers.

“Hey, Alice, this is Jake Stiles, the guy who’s been fostering Seven—the border collie who’s been through there a few times.”

“Yeah, I remember you, but if you’re calling to tell me you want to bring him in, let me just tell you right now we’re closing early because of the front. They’re calling for nine to eleven inches now.”

Of course, they were. Would Seven be roaming the city in anything less? “I’m not bringing him in. Now or ever. But I need your advice.”

“Oh yeah, what’s that?”

“He got loose—my fault entirely—but I remember you said he’s done that before. Do you have any thoughts as to where he might go?”

“Well, that’s a shame. I’m sorry to hear that, and I’m sorry not to have better advice for you, but he’s a wild one, that one. You can’t expect him to circle back any more than you can expect him to be headed anywhere in particular. The last time he was loose, he was roaming free a good couple of days before he was picked up. He’d made it a good thirty miles that time, if I remember correctly.”

Jake’s heart sank. “If someone picks him up and checks his chip, will it lead them back to you or to the family who adopted him last?”

“I can’t say for sure, but we gave the family the information to register him in their name when they took him. My guess would be they hadn’t done it yet. Lots of people don’t.”

“Well, I’ll check in first thing tomorrow, but you’ve got my number in case someone calls about him, right?”

“I do. You’re saying you still want to foster him?”

“No, I’m not. I don’t want to foster him anymore. I want to adopt him. And he did circle back, just so you know. I’m on the South Side, and I took him to the parade. I shouldn’t have, but I did. He got scared, and I lost my grip, but he circled back. He was just too afraid to come to me, and when he couldn’t do that, he came to my car instead. I just didn’t get here fast enough. I’m saying this because I think you should know he’s anything but a lost cause. He’s the smartest dog I ever met, and the gentlest one too.”

It went so quiet on the other end of the line that Jake wondered if the connection had dropped, then a muffled barking in the background proved otherwise. “Well, Mr. Stiles, after so many years in the business, it’s few and far between, but some dogs still surprise me at times. Some people too.” Jake was clearing his throat when she continued. “I hope you find him. Before the snow gets deep and this cold front really presses in. I’ll put a notice on Lost Dogs Illinois for you and throw up a few pictures. Where on the South Side did you last see him?”

“His tracks disappeared at Longwood between 111th and Monterey. He’s got a green bandanna on, and he’s dragging a leash.”

“Oh yeah? Eventually that’ll get caught on something, and he’ll lose it, if he hasn’t yet. They usually do, anyway, but I’ll make mention of it on my post, and I’ll leave your number as the contact.”

“I appreciate it, Alice. I do.”

“And if it helps any, unlike a lot of ’em, this one seems to have a good understanding of how important it is to steer clear of cars. Or maybe he’s just lucky. Guess he’s got that going for him too.”

Jake flicked on his wipers and sent the snow cascading off his windshield. The world had gone so rapidly from the gray-brown of late winter to a blanket of soft white, it was disorienting. “That he does, Alice.”