When Hearts Collide by Kendra James

Fortunately, the resemblance stopped at the nose. Gracie’s pug nose was much cuter than Pearce’s aristocratic one.
    Gracie snuggled against her father and kept up a running commentary. The look of pride gleaming in Pearce’s eyes melted a chink in the wall of ice Molly had built so successfully around her heart. Tears pricked at her eyes and she had to blink them away.
    Strange sounds came from somewhere close by. Her first thought was of an intruder of the human kind, her second, an intruder of the animal kind, but she saw no sign of either. Her protective instincts kicked into play as she thought of Gracie and Pearce’s safety.
    The sound seemed to be coming from the line of trees at the back of the yard. Every muscle in her body tensed and she concentrated on the sound. It sounded like whimpering. Molly glanced at the house. It would take about fifteen seconds to sprint to the patio door, about fifty from the line of trees. She had to make sure her charges were okay.
    “Pearce, do you hear that?”
    “It sounds like an animal.”
    “It may be hurt. I’m going to check.”
    “Is that a good idea?” he asked.
    “I’ll be careful,” Molly promised. “Gracie, stay here with your father.”
    As she crept closer to the trees, the sound grew louder. Afraid of what she might find, either human or animal, her heart quickened. She couldn’t stand to hear anything in pain. She had to help.
    Her hands shook as she pulled the branches apart, revealing a large dog. He lay licking a blood-matted area on his hip. Had he been hit by a car?
    “Hey, boy, what happened?” Despite the softness in her voice, the dog shrank back, his eyes holding a look of terror. Had he been abused? Was he vicious?
    Moving closer, she bent beside him. Molly tensed, afraid he might try to bite, but he seemed to sense she was trying to help.
    She ran back to the house, took an old blanket out of her car, and spread it out on Gracie’s wagon. She spoke quickly to Pearce. “It’s a dog. He’s been hurt. I’m going to bring him to the kitchen and clean his wound.”
    “Can I see him, Molly Mommy?”
    “The dog’s afraid. He might get scared and bite. You wait here.”
    Molly laid a blanket in the corner of the kitchen.
    Gracie had followed her into the house. “Can I get him water, Molly Mommy?”
    “That’s a very good idea. I’m sure he’s thirsty. Let’s get a bowl and put it by the blanket.”
    The dog whimpered again as Molly came close. When she crouched beside him, he stretched out his tongue and licked her hand. His liquid brown-gold eyes were soft with gratitude. Molly slid her arms gently under the dog and gathered him into her arms.
    He was much lighter than she had expected, and she could feel his ribs through the thick golden coat. “You poor boy. I don’t think you’ve had a good meal in a while.” She set him in the wagon and brought him up to the house. Gracie waited at the open kitchen door, watching while Molly laid the dog on the blanket. Pearce had wheeled himself to the patio door and maneuvered the chair inside.
    “Can I pet him, Molly Mommy?”
    “No,” Pearce warned. “He might bite.”
    “Your dad’s right. We need to give him time to get used to us.” Molly sat on a kitchen chair and drew Gracie into her arms. They watched the dog as he checked out the kitchen, his eyes tired and cautious and fearful, as if he’d learned to be constantly on guard. After a few minutes, sensing he was somewhere safe, the dog slumped back onto the blanket. Without getting up, he lapped at the bowl of water until the last drop was gone.
    “See, Molly Mommy, I told you he was thirsty. Do you think he wants some food?”
    “I bet he does. Let’s see what we can find.”
    She refilled the water bowl and put several slices of meat on a plate. They were gone in one gulp, so she added more. Finally full, the dog lay back on the blanket and closed his eyes.
    Molly watched the sleeping animal and wondered where his owner