Lost and Found on Foxglove Street (The Foxglove Street #9)

Chapter 23

23

A ticking-off, it turned out, was exactly what Grace was in line for. The dog warden on the other end of the phone didn’t sound happy at all.

“You should have left the stray dog at the council-approved kennels as we agreed!” he blustered. “It’s in contravention of our policies for members of the public to keep stray dogs. In fact, it’s illegal!”

“Well, I don’t care,” Grace said, deciding it was time to talk tough. “Those kennels you sent me to weren’t very nice at all. Actually, they were awful! The staff I saw there didn’t have much love to give to the dogs, and the woman I spoke to was rude and abrupt. If that’s how she behaves with people, I dread to think about how she behaves with dogs. I wasn’t leaving Stanley there, and that’s all there was to it.”

“Stanley? Who’s Stanley?”

“That’s what I’m calling the dog I found. Stanley. We think he looks like a Stanley.”

Grace turned and saw Ryan giving her an affirmative nod.

“Look, we have rules,” the warden said. “We have procedures. We do things a certain way.”

“I understand all of that. I really do. My job has rules and procedures too. But I couldn’t in all good conscience have left Stanley behind at that unpleasant place. Have you visited those kennels lately? I think they’re due an inspection, because I can’t see how they could possibly meet your agreed standards.”

“Did you see dogs being manhandled or treated badly there?” the warden asked.

Grace paused. “No, not exactly. But I watched a member of staff feeding the dogs in their kennels, and she barely even glanced at them. She just dumped the food bowls on the floor and locked the door. No pat on the head, no soothing words for the dogs, nothing. And the place smelled absolutely disgusting.”

The warden sighed on the other end of the phone. “Look, we’re in the business of dealing with stray and abandoned dogs. We make sure they’re safe and fed and receive veterinary care, and that’s all we can do. I’m sorry that the kennel you visited didn’t look like a day spa for canines, but our budgets only go so far.”

“I understand,” Grace said, chastened by the weary sound in the man’s voice. “I’m sure you do the best you can with what you have, and I’m sure you wish you could do more. But in the case of this particular stray dog, you can do more. I’m offering to look after him, free of charge, while you find out if his owner can be located. That makes your life easier!”

The warden sighed again. “But there is paperwork and forms that must be filled out. I’ve already started filling them out for this dog you reported.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less. I’m sure you’re brilliant at your job and want only the best for the dogs in your care. So, surely there’s nothing wrong with just pausing the paperwork you’ve started for Stanley and leaving him with me for the next few days. If you find his proper owner, no one will be happier than me to see him returned to whoever loves him.”

The silence on the other end of the line told her the warden was thinking about what she’d said.

“Fine,” he said at last. “But at the end of the statutory seven-day period, if no owner has come forward to claim the dog, I’ll have no choice but to put him into the system for rehoming.”

“I understand.”

Grace glanced across the room to where Stanley lay on the floor beside the fireplace. His eyes followed her as she paced across the room while speaking on the phone. It was almost as if the animal understood the conversation was all about him. Ryan and Miriam were also watching her, their expressions now lifting in relief as they caught the gist of the discussion.

With the question of Stanley’s temporary custody arrangements resolved, Grace chatted with the dog warden for a few moments longer to settle the details before they said their goodbyes.

“Well, I’m glad that’s out of the way,” Grace said after she hung up. “I wasn’t looking forward to that conversation. I feel sorry for the dog warden, who seems under a lot of pressure, but I was worried he’d insist on taking Stanley away.”

“You made him an offer he couldn’t refuse,” Miriam said. “You understood what he needed and you gave it to him. He’s a man running a horribly overstretched public service, and while he’s a stickler for the rules, you convinced him that those rules could be bent on this occasion for the good of all concerned. You have a smart head on your shoulders, Grace.”

“When you have to deal with very particular and demanding guests at a five-star hotel on a daily basis, you soon learn the dark arts of diplomacy,” Grace replied, making Miriam laugh.

“I don’t doubt it,” Miriam said, and got to her feet. “Now that I’m refreshed thanks to that delicious cup of Earl Grey you prepared for me, Grace, I hope you’ll excuse me if I take my lovely shopping haul up to my room and have a lie down for twenty minutes.”

“Of course not,” Grace said.

“Enjoy your nap, Grandma,” Ryan said, giving his grandmother a quick hug and a kiss. “We’ll decide on our pizza order once you wake up.”

“That’s fine with me.”

After returning Ryan’s hug, squeezing Grace’s arm fondly, and blowing a kiss across the room to Stanley, Miriam left to go upstairs for her nap.

“So, you’re the sort-of-official custodian of Stanley for the next few days,” Ryan said to Grace.

“Looks that way.” Grace glanced to where the little dog had flopped back down on the floor again as soon as her phone conversation had ended. His eyes were closing as he, too, prepared for a nap. “I’m so glad the warden is letting me keep him. I couldn’t stand the thought of him being seized and shipped off to those uncaring kennels. That would break my heart.”

“And what if the dog warden can’t find an owner and he has to go into a rescue centre to be rehomed? How will you feel then?”

Grace frowned unhappily at the question. “I’m not sure. I think I’ll just have to wait and cross that bridge when I come to it.”

A flicker of an amused smile lifted the edges of Ryan’s mouth, but before she could ask what he thought was funny about anything in the unfortunate Stanley situation, he’d settled back down again on the sofa and was lifting his phone to scroll on the screen.

“Let’s narrow down some pizza options for dinner,” he said, gesturing for Grace to sit beside him. “So far, our contenders are margherita and pepperoni, but maybe something else on the pizzeria menu might grab our interest.”

Grace sat down beside him, watching as he scrolled through the pizza menu, but also distracted by that amused look she’d caught on his face a moment ago.

“When you asked what I’d do if Stanley had to go to a rescue centre to be rehomed, and I said I’d cross that bridge when I came to it, you got this funny look on your face.”

The smile that had only flickered before on Ryan’s face now reappeared, and this time it was full wattage.

“What?” Grace said, half-laughing at his expression, but still baffled by it, too.

Ryan let out a soft laugh. “You’re in love with that dog, Grace. If no one comes forward to claim him, you’re going to keep him. You just haven’t realised it yet.”

Grace’s eyes widened in surprise at his analysis. “No, that can’t happen!”

His smile only got bigger. “But it will,” he said, and brushed a kiss across her lips before returning to his menu scrolling.

And Grace realised, in a stunned and sudden flash, that he was completely right. Her gaze flew to Stanley, now snoring on the floor, and her heart filled with love for the daft little dog. How could she give him up?

She couldn’t.

Ryan had known it before she had. That he somehow already knew her well enough to deliver such a brilliantly accurate insight left her at a loss for words.

And wondering, as another rush of panicked realisation crashed through her, if the scruffy dog wasn’t the only one in the room with whom she was falling in love.