The Imposter by Suzanne Woods Fisher Page A

waist. His forearms corded with powerful muscle, and his hair gleamed in the sun. She didn’t know what to make of someone like him. And she was having a hard time meeting his eyes, the way he stared at her. She felt he was looking straight through her, that he could see everything, knew everything.
    â€œThen let’s go find one,” he said, in a matter of fact tone. “Is there a shelter in town?”
    She tilted her head. “In fact, there is. A new one.”
    Twenty minutes later, they were heading toward town in Thelma’s buggy. Andy glanced at her. “So, care to tell me why you run to the phone shanty ten times a day?”
    She cringed. Was she that obvious? “I’d rather not, if you don’t mind.”
    â€œTell me something else, then, why don’t you?” he said, and bumped her arm with his. “I’d like to know a little more about you.”
    â€œWell,” she started, “I . . .” She stopped. What was there to say? And where to even start? The last year of her life had been horrific, filled with pain and loss. It had brought love too, or so she had thought, but that ended up bringing even more confusion and sorrow.
    He could see she was struggling. “Okay, let me make this a little easier. Do you like to ice skate?”
    She laughed. “Yes. Do you?”
    â€œNope. I broke my arm in two places when I was ten. Haven’t put on skates since. You ever break any bones?”
    â€œMy nose. My brother Jesse threw a baseball that hit me in the face when I was eight.”
    â€œOooh. Let me see.” He peered down at her, touched her chin to move her face side to side. “Can’t tell at all. That’s a very nice little nose you’ve got.”
    She gave him a wry smile. He was flirting with her, but she found she didn’t mind. Not so much.
    Katrina directed Andy to the Wild Bird Rescue and Animal Shelter on Main Street, across the street from the Sweet Tooth bakery. Will Stoltz, a vet, had started the Wild Bird Rescue Center a year or so ago. When he married, he and his wife, who was also a vet, expanded the center to include a no-kill animal shelter. Andy and Katrina wandered through the aisle of the animal shelter, holding their hands out to the different dogs. First was a terrier that barked incessantly, then a Shih Tzu, but Andy thought that would be too close to having a cat.
    â€œSo what kind of dog do you need?” Katrina asked.
    â€œWrong question,” Andy said, looking at each kennel. “We’re looking for a dog who needs us.”
    And it turned out to be a large yellow mutt with white spreading around its muzzle. It had the kind of sadness in its eyes that Katrina recognized clear to the bottom of her heart. “Andy, look at this one.”
    Andy knelt and the dog just looked at him, sighed and hung its head showing that it’d given up all hope.
    â€œHe’s a good dog,” Will Stoltz said, opening the kennel latch to let them in.
    â€œWe found him waiting patiently on the doorstep one morning. Left behind.”
    Katrina’s heart stopped. Left behind? Just like that. Over. Goodbye. Sometimes, she thought, the world seemed so harsh.
    â€œLeft behind,” Andy repeated, rubbing the dog’s big head. “Any idea what breed he is?”
    â€œOne part Labrador Retriever, lots of parts of something else.”
    Andy moved his hands on the dog in the way that told youhe was somebody who knew and loved dogs. “Any idea if he has a good bark? Does he have a prey instinct?”
    Will grinned. “Excellent bark. As for the prey instinct, he does chase after balls.”
    â€œHow old is he, do you know?” He half grinned as the dog stretched his neck up so that he could scratch under the dog’s chin.
    â€œHe’s only nine,” Will said, and hurried to add, “but he doesn’t have anything wrong with him.”
    â€œAside from being