Ember Read online

  Ember wagged her tail slowly. She hoped it would bring back Jo’s hopeful voice.

  Both of them started when the bell over the door rang out again. “I almost forgot. You should take these. For Ember, or whatever.” Nancy plopped down a box full of well-worn dog toys. Ember could smell her favorite chew glove on top and wagged a little faster. She was glad Nancy hadn’t forgotten.

  “Whoa, what’s all this?” Jo asked, pulling her ponytail over one shoulder and looking into the box.

  “Ember found those. All of them. They were in our backyard. Apparently someone else had a dog there years and years ago. We had no idea.”

  Ember lifted her nose and sniffed. The smell of her favorite toy and all her found treasures filled her snout. She had sniffed and dug and discovered each and every one. She’d spent hours and hours in the backyard, locked outside alone. Each time she located a new treat, she gave it to her family. She thought it might make them happy. It only made them mad. It only made them yell even more.

  Jo let out a little laugh of disbelief. She dug around in the box. “All of them?”

  Nancy nodded. “Yes, except that nasty glove. She came with that and dug it out of the garbage every time I tried to throw it away. You should see our backyard. There are so many holes it looks like the surface of the moon! Apparently the last dog who lived there liked to bury things, and this dog liked to dig them up. Our lawn is toast.”

  “Oh, Ember.” Jo sighed again as the door jangled for the last time. Ember wasn’t sad to see Nancy go, but she was sad to be back … sad to not have a forever home.

  Slowly, Jo led Ember out to the kennels, where the other dogs who were waiting for homes barked or slept or stared through the fencing and dreamed of open fields. Jo opened a clean kennel and patted the bed there. She checked the water and tossed Ember the chewed-up glove she’d pulled from the box. She’d almost forgotten about Ember’s chew glove. It was such an odd toy, but the young pup was definitely devoted to it. “Can’t believe you still have that,” she said with a sly smile.

  Then Jo got a look in her eye that Ember hadn’t seen before. She bit her bottom lip and let out a long, low whistle that turned into a rambling melody. “You’re awfully good at finding things, aren’t you?” she asked softly. She pet the top of Ember’s wide head and backed out of the kennel. “Hang in there, pup. I think I have an idea.”

  Ember listened to Jo’s fading whistle, and turned around and lay down on the well-worn bed. She gnawed on her glove a little half-heartedly at first, and then with more enthusiasm. Along with the whistle, something in Jo’s voice had changed again. The hopeful note … it was back.

  Roxanne Valentine drank the last swig of coffee from her thermos, checked in the rearview mirror to make sure she didn’t have any stray breakfast on her freckled face, and stepped out of her pickup truck. The sign on the glass door read ARROYO ANIMAL SERVICES, and she could hear dogs barking the moment she opened her car door. She was definitely in the right place. As she walked toward the entrance on her long legs, she tucked her auburn hair behind her ears. She hoped that the worker she spoke to was right about the Lab, that her early morning drive wasn’t for nothing. Jo Winston had called the day before to tell her about a dog she thought would be great for search and rescue … a dog out of options.

  The bell over the door jangled as Roxanne stepped inside, and a young woman with a practical ponytail and a uniform that made her look like a park ranger looked up from behind the desk.

  “You must be Roxanne!” she greeted her warmly, standing and offering a hand.

  Roxanne nodded and returned the woman’s easy smile. “You must be Jo.” She extended her own hand. The pair shook, and Jo wasted no time leading her back to the kennels, where Ember was waiting. “She’s a great dog, just a little … intense,” Jo explained.

  “And she’s had how many families?” Roxanne asked. As the lead dog trainer at the Sterling Center, she knew that sometimes dogs who made terrible pets were terrific for search and rescue programs, the Sterling Center’s specialty. But some dogs were difficult in any setting, and she couldn’t just take Jo’s word for it. If she brought this dog back to Sterling, it was a commitment—a commitment for the full life of the dog. The Sterling Center took the responsibility of bringing in a new dog seriously, because even if the dog wasn’t able to complete the training and earn a certificate to be a search and rescue dog, they’d be responsible for finding it a new place to live. And it could be difficult to find an adult dog a home. Especially one with a checkered past.

  “Three,” Jo answered, wincing a little. She really hoped her hunch was right … that Ember could become a working dog.

  Roxanne bit her lip. Dogs in shelters didn’t often get fourth chances.

  The barking grew louder as the two women walked down the row of kennels. Jo stopped in front of Ember’s cage. She took down the clipboard hanging from the chain-link fencing and handed it to Roxanne to look over.

  Roxanne scanned the pages, taking her time. The dog was a good age for assessment—a little over a year. She was mostly Labrador retriever, which was a breed known for drive and energy and was usually well suited to tracking. “Good on paper,” she murmured, more to herself than to Jo. She knew all too well that paper was the least of it. When assessing a rescue dog, Roxanne’s number one resource was her gut.

  “Let’s get a look at you.” She hung the clipboard back on the gate and observed the wagging dog on the other side of the fence. She was a warm, honey gold with slightly darker floppy ears, which matched the tip of her tail. Her dark-chocolate nose was the same shade as the “eyeliner” that rimmed her milk-chocolate eyes, which were bright and fixed on Roxanne.

  “Hello,” Roxanne said, and Ember’s tail picked up speed, waving hello back. Then the dog turned quickly, grabbed something off the floor with her mouth, and presented it to Roxanne.

  “What’s this?” Roxanne squinted at the mangled chew toy. “Is that a … glove?”

  Jo chuckled. She opened the gate and clipped a leash on Ember. “Yes. It’s her favorite thing. She was rescued from a house fire when she was a puppy. She arrived here with that old thing and has taken it everywhere she’s gone since.”

  “So she’s loyal,” Roxanne murmured. “To a glove. That’s kind of perfect.” Roxanne tugged the glove, tussling and playing with Ember, who wasn’t the slightest bit shy or skittish even though they’d just met. Then she asked, “Can I have it, Ember?” She held out her hand and Ember gently deposited the slobbery glove in her open palm. “Thank you!” Roxanne gave Ember a quick pat. “Now, Jo, can you distract her for a minute? I want to check something else.”

  Jo looked confused but nodded. “Sure. Come on, Em!” She patted her thigh. Ember looked at Roxanne and her favorite glove, wondering if the game was over, then back at Jo, who gave her leash a tug. “Let’s go find a treat!” Jo chirped. Ember followed a little reluctantly.

  As soon as the dog’s back was turned, Roxanne walked past the long row of dogs to the other end of the building and hid the glove on a high shelf out of the Lab’s line of sight.

  When she rejoined Jo and Ember, she was greeted again with wags, but this time Ember was looking for something. She snuffled Roxanne’s hands, wondering where her glove had gone. Roxanne didn’t say a word. She let Ember finish sniffing and took the leash from Jo. Ember pulled hard on the end, and Roxanne followed. The young dog was strong and clearly hadn’t had good leash training. But that wasn’t what Roxanne was watching for. Ember kept sniffing, pulling her along the row of barking dogs, some of whom were growling and challenging Ember aggressively. The yellow Lab stayed focused. When she reached the spot below the shelf where Roxanne had hidden the glove, she stopped. She sniffed the floor, then put her front feet up on the counter below the shelf and sniffed the air. She barked. Her glove was up there somewhere. She could smell it.

  “Good job, Ember!” Roxanne took the glove down and returned it to the dog. She held the thumb, playing a little tu
g, and then let go so the Lab could swing the glove side to side in her mouth, giving it a good victory shake. “And I think you’re right, Jo. Ember definitely has the stuff. The Sterling Center will take her.”

  Jo pumped her fist, a grin splitting her face. “I’ll go start the paperwork!” she said. She spun around and left the kennels, whistling softly to herself.

  Twenty minutes later, Roxanne led Ember out to the parking lot. They both turned when they heard the bell on the door jangle behind them.

  “One more thing!” Jo jogged up and got down on one knee. “Just wanted to say goodbye to this little firecracker,” she said a bit wistfully. “I have a feeling you won’t be back this time.”

  Ember cocked one of her ears and looked at Jo. The hopeful note was in her voice, but her smell was happy and sad. It was a new look, not the nervous face she’d worn before when Ember left with the old man and the other families.

  Jo roughed up the fur on Ember’s neck, and Ember landed a lick on her face. A goodbye.

  “Okay, Ember!” Roxanne called. She patted the mat in the crate she kept inside her covered pickup truck. “Let’s go.” Roxanne placed Ember’s glove in the crate and Ember jumped up without hesitation. She was immediately surrounded by the smells of other dogs, but none of them smelled sad or sick or scared.

  “Good dog.” Roxanne latched the crate and closed the back of the truck, talking calmly to Ember the whole time. When the truck engine rumbled to life, Ember turned once and lay down. She let the vibrations of the engine lull her to sleep and only woke when Roxanne was back and opening the tailgate and crate to let her out.

  “We’re here!” Roxanne said, smiling.

  She clipped on Ember’s leash but let the Lab take her time jumping down and exploring the spot where they’d stopped.

  “Here” was a big place with lots of buildings and hills and dry grass and big trees. Here smelled of newly turned dirt and cooking and rain just a few days back. Here smelled strongly of dogs. Some fresh, some long gone. Here also smelled of people. Ember filled her nose again and again while Roxanne waited patiently, never yanking on her collar. Never choking her. Ember took one more whiff and then followed Roxanne into one of the large buildings.

  She liked “here.”

  Here seemed nice.

  She wagged.

  Very nice.

  “Well, who do we have here?” Frances Sterling stood up from behind the curved desk in the front office of the Sterling Center when Ember and Roxanne came in. She tucked a wisp of short white hair behind her ear and smiled at the new four-legged recruit, who was busy discovering everything she could about the building with her nose.

  Though Frances had officially retired and turned the day-to-day operations over to her son Martin and daughter-in-law Georgia, the founder of the Sterling Center still lived on the ranch and was always available to lend a hand when needed. Today Frances felt lucky to be filling in at the welcome center. Greeting new dogs was one of her favorite tasks.

  “This is Ember,” Roxanne said. She walked around the desk to give Frances a quick hug and dropped Ember’s leash so the curious pup could explore every corner of the building.

  Frances’s blue eyes were bright as they followed the busy dog around the room. Dogs like Ember were the reason she’d started a training program more than a decade ago, after she’d retired the first time. Back then, though she was done with nursing, she knew she had something more to do. And looking at Sunshine, her dog at the time, she knew the golden retriever also had more to offer.

  It hadn’t taken Frances long to figure out how, together, they could really help people. In the face of disaster, dogs were not only great comfort, but had amazing search skills. They could do things no human could ever do, and most dogs only wanted a chance to help.

  Eighteen years and many dogs and donations later, there was an entire wall in the welcome center covered with pictures and letters and awards—a testament to the many people (and dogs) who had been saved thanks to the Sterling family’s efforts.

  Frances glanced at the wall of pictures and then back at the new recruit. She patted her thigh, and Ember looked up from her sniffing and came over to say hello. Frances’s own dog, Cocoa, stood up from her favorite spot under the front desk and tottered on creaky legs to get a whiff of the new dog.

  Frances pet them both as they slowly circled each other, doing their doggy greetings. Ember wagged fast. Cocoa wagged more slowly.

  At thirteen, Cocoa did everything more slowly. The chocolate Lab was retired, but she’d seen her share of adventures and was a hero many times over (with her own plaques on the wall to prove it). She’d earned every white hair on her muzzle—the soft white fur Frances’s youngest grandchild liked to call her “whipped cream topping.” Now, at this stage of life, Cocoa was content to be Frances’s constant companion.

  “Where’d you get this whippersnapper?” Frances asked, looking from Ember to Roxanne and back.

  Ember was done sniffing the elderly woman and her dog, and had moved on to the spot by the printer, which had the distinct odor of cat. Also, someone had spilled coffee with cream next to the file cabinet. And next to that she thought she smelled mustard that had dripped out of a sandwich.

  “I just picked her up from Arroyo Animal Services out in Big Fork,” Roxanne reported. “She was surrendered yesterday … by her third family.” Roxanne’s green eyes narrowed as she watched Ember explore. She hoped she’d made the right call. Her dog instincts were good, but Frances’s were better.

  Frances raised her eyebrows and looked from the redheaded young woman to the golden-furred canine and back.

  “Apparently she’s quite a digger and a chewer. And she hates to be alone,” Roxanne added.

  “Perfect.” Frances nodded approvingly. “She has work to do.”

  Roxanne smiled. As the founder of the Sterling Center, Frances understood dogs and had a lot of experience with all kinds and all breeds. She recognized that some dogs really needed to work.

  “She’s got plenty of energy!” Roxanne agreed. “Let’s just hope I can get it focused.” She stepped on the leash still dragging loosely and called Ember to the back door so she could get her settled in the canine pavilion, the building where they housed dogs in training.

  Frances sat back down in the swivel chair and watched Roxanne and Ember through the window. She could tell Roxanne was feeling a little trepidation. It was hard not to want to save every dog—and not to believe every dog would do well at Sterling. She lifted Cocoa’s wide head and looked into her milky eyes, smiling. “I think they’re going to be just fine. Don’t you?” she asked. Cocoa slow-wagged her agreement.

  Outside on the ranch, Ember’s nose was in overdrive and telling her to go in a hundred directions at once. Luckily, Roxanne was patient as the twosome made their way down the path that led from the front office to the canine pavilion, and she didn’t seem to mind that Ember needed to stop and sniff along the way.

  One side of the path was wooded—Ember could smell rotting leaves, squirrels, budding green plants, blue jays, oak trees … On the other side were more buildings, some with kitchens, some without, some with people, some without, and a wide, dry spot where many dogs had run.

  “Here we go.” Roxanne smiled down at Ember as they approached a building bigger than all the rest. It smelled strongly of dogs, like the shelter Ember had just come from. She could smell kibble, treats, water, beds … There were more smells, too—lots that she didn’t recognize, and one she definitely did: twelve-year-old boy!

  Ember’s last family had a twelve-year-old boy … Theo. He was her favorite because he didn’t yell like Nancy. Sometimes he even joined in the backyard digging, and he almost always invited her up on the couch when nobody was looking. Theo also loved to tussle. And so did Ember!

  The moment Roxanne opened the door to the pavilion, Ember nosed her way through and ran straight for the source of the smell.

  Forrest Sterling had his earbuds in, listening to
music as he sprayed the kennel runs with a powerful hose. At twelve, he had recently taken on a “real” job at the center and worked mornings and weekends cleaning kennels and feeding the dogs in training. He was nodding along to one of his favorite songs, mouthing the words while his black corkscrew curls flopped to the beat. He didn’t hear the fifty-five pounds of furry enthusiasm barreling toward him until it was too late.

  “Ember!” Roxanne shouted as the leash was yanked out of her hands.

  Ember heard her name but did not stop. She ran headlong into Forrest, jumping and barking, and inviting him to play. Unbraced and on slick wet cement, Forrest toppled over.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” he shouted. He lost his grip on the hose that was locked on and shooting a powerful spray. It flailed in all directions. The startled boy hooted in surprise. Then he burst out laughing at the excited pup and the hose, which was acting like an angry snake as it flapped and spit and soaked his hair, his clothes, the floor, the dog … everything.

  Ember caught the spray full in the face, but that only made the game more fun. She hopped over the thrashing hose and landed a wet lick on Forrest’s cheek before bounding to his other side and barking another invitation to play.

  Doubled over and trying to protect his face from being sprayed or licked, Forrest couldn’t do a thing to stop the craziness.

  Roxanne joined in the laughter as water blasted her legs and shoes. She was still chuckling as she calmly stepped on the hose, reached down, and turned off the nozzle.

  “Well,” she said, wiping tears from her eyes. “That was quite an introduction. Forrest, meet Ember. Ember, Forrest.”

  Forrest got to his knees and threw his arm over the wet dog’s shoulder, grinning and revealing the small gap between his two front teeth. Half a second later, he pulled his arm back to shield his face while the Lab shook off the excess water.