<< Go Back

A Home For Fritz

By June Foster

Order Now!

"I will not leave you as orphans. I will come to you." John 14:18



Chapter One

At the clearing near a forest of towering Douglas fir, Brooke Cantrell drew in a long breath of Wyoming air and slowly exhaled. Bushes with red spindly flowers grew in clumps, dotting the open space where she stood. On the northern horizon, the Big Horn Mountains ascended high into the sky, more imposing than any Dallas skyscraper.
A howl charged the air.
Dog? Or wolf? She held the next breath and stood as still as the Indian Paintbrush on the windless day, listening. Had she imagined it?
Rowff. Rowff. Yap. Oww.
A swell of pain pummeled her chest. Only a wounded animal could vocalize such a woeful pitch. What if it was dying? No. She gripped a strand of hair and yanked.
Driven by childhood memories of loss, she crept forward, ignoring all caution. Death had won too many rounds in her life.
Where had the sound come from? The left, the right, straight ahead? She stopped.
Yow, yap.
She darted toward the cops of evergreens. Over another rise inthe landscape, a pungent odor, like turpentine assaulted Brooke's nose. She sidestepped the sagebrush growing close to the ground as she skulked toward the mournful cries. She skirted the pond, complete with beavers' dam, then scaled the rising countryside to the forest.
The wail grew more desperate.
What if a dangerous animal waited within the trees?Brooke's knees locked. She had no self-defense skills. Moose and savage wolves didn't exactly roam big-city neighborhoods. She should scramble to safety.
No, what if a wounded pup needed help? One of the working dogs at Sunlight Peaks Guest Ranch? Yet, no amount of help could've saved Rowdy all those years ago—her dog Daddy brought home when Mama died. His furry presence and warm cuddles had seen her through many a lonely day. Rubbing her eyes didn't erase the stinging.
Now at the tree line, she navigated around a couple of fir trees, guided by the sound's source then gasped.
A short distance into the forest, a golden doodle,its paw in an iron trap, writhed and wiggled, then whined and gawked with pitiful eyes.
"Oh, doggie. I'm so sorry." What should she do? She angled a desperate glance in the direction of the ranch, but no one strolled the path. She dared a few cautious steps nearer the dog. In an instinctive urge to comfort the creature, she reached to ruffle its fur then jerked her hand away. The dog might not understand and bite her.
Instead, she lifted her palm in a stop signal. She had to take action. "Just hang on, little guy. I'll find someone to help."
Brooke raced toward the clearing, heart pounding. Not because she dashed in and out of the dense trees but anguish gripped her insides. A suffering animal would continue in pain until she found aid.
The pathetic creature barked as if to call, "Don't leave me."
She glanced over her shoulder and lowered her voice, hoping to soothe the animal. "It's okay. I'll be back."
Clomp, clomp.
Someone or something tramped toward her on the other side of a stand of elms. Never mind. She had to keep going.
Whack.
Brooke's body met a rock wall head-on. She blinked and gazed into eyes the color of spring leaves.
"Oof." The guy in jeans and a Stetson reached to steady her. "Didn't expect anyone to be out here." He exhaled a breath through puckered lips.
Brooke huffed, the lack of breath impeding her words, and pointed into the woods. "A dog. In a trap. Over there. Golden doddle."
"Oh, no." He scrubbed his hand over his mouth and dashed along the path.
Brooke trailed the guy, his boots forging footprints in the soft ground. "To the left. In the clearing."
The cowboy hurried toward the now visible furry creature. "Fritz. What happened, boy?"
Fritz whined and tried to shake his paw loose from the iron snare.
The cowboy paused then his gaze darted to Brooke. "It takes two people to disengage the trap. Can you help me?"
"Anything." Brooke wrung her hands, desperation filling her chest. Losing a dog hurt. She knew. But losing Daddy two years later had crushed her.
"Thanks." He crept toward Fritz and knelt.
Brooke slipped down beside the well-built guy. "What can I do?"
He lowered his voice. "I'll hold his muzzle so he can't bite." He pointed to the snare. "Fritz got himself in a coiled trap the ranchers use to catch coyotes. See the two levers on each side of the clamps?"
She nodded.
His glance dropped to her tennis shoes. "Stand on either side of the trap then carefully step on both levers at the same time. The clamps should open up and free him."
With one hand, the guy grasped Fritz's nose and mouth. With the other, he wrapped his arm around the dog's middle. "Now."
As if Fritz knew his master intended to rescue him, he didn't squirm.
Brooke slowly set one foot lightly on the right lever then the left and applied pressure as she stood straight.
The levers moved to the down position and the clamp opened.
Fritz shrunk away from the device and whined as the man released his hold on the dog's muzzle. "Hey, boy. Are you okay?"
Brooke knelt again to examine the dog. "You poor puppy." She ran her hand down his fuzzy coat.
Fritz lifted his head and gave her a warm lick on the cheek with a bloody tongue.
"Oh, Fritz. You're bleeding." The sight of a wounded dog reached into her gut and twisted it into a tight coil.
With his thumb and index finger, the man opened Fritz's mouth, stained red. "Uh, huh. I was afraid of that. Here's the primary damage. Missing parts of two teeth."
Brooke rose to her feet, fighting tears she couldn't allow the cowboy to see, and wiped blood from her cheek. "How did he manage that?"
"No doubt he tried chewing on the chain and the clamp. I need to get him to the vet."
As if the dog knew the word vet, he whined and backed away from his master. On three legs, Fritz limped toward Brooke and brushed against her jeans.
The cowboy chuckled. "I think you've made a friend."
"I confess. I'm partial to this breed." Brooke examined Fritz's golden curls. "I had a doddle as a child." But why did she tell him? It only offered the uncomfortable barbs again, grinding against her heart.
"Oh, yeah? Well, Fritz is grateful you opened his iron prison and let him out." He brushed his hand over the dog's paw. "I've read that the device doesn't break the skin on the animal's foot but can cause a sprain. Let's see if this is serious." He gently rotated the limb in a circle.
Fritz yelped and shivered next to Brooke.
She stroked his back. "If you're a good boy and go to the doctor, I'll ask your daddy to get you a chewy stick." She touched her lips with one finger. "Oops, he may not be able to chew a rawhide until his mouth heals."
The man laughed. "Well, bribery still works. Come on, fellow."
Fritz snuggled closer to Brooke and whined.
"Hey, guy. She's a pretty lady, but right now we've got to see to those injuries. Ordinarily, I don't give in to your moods, but this time I'll take pity on you." He rolled his eyes. "I'm afraid Fritz won't go to the vet unless you come along, ma'am."
"Well… " Should she accompany Fritz and his master, someone she'd just met?
"You're a guest at the ranch, right? I'm Garrett Bowman, a wrangler there. If you sign up for fly fishing or horseback rides, you'll probably see me."
"Yes, I'm here with er, my sister. I'm Brooke Radcliffe." Speaking an untruth was harder than she thought. But Brooke Cantrell didn't exist—if only for ten days. She ruffled Fritz's hair. "I'd be happy to go."
"You hear that, buddy?" He turned to Brooke. "Let's hope he can make it to my truck parked in front of the bunkhouse. Not sure if I want to carry this big dog." Fritz's handsome owner with light brown hair and bulging shoulder muscles unhooked the leash wrapped around his belt, fastened the clasp to Fritz's collar, and shook a finger at the dog. "Next time, when I tell you to stay in the yard, you'd better listen."
Fritz folded his tail between his legs and nuzzled Brooke's hand.
"Hey. Don't be looking to Brooke for sympathy." Garrett gently steered Fritz, still limping on three legs, down the path.
"Aw, poor guy. Don't worry. I won't leave you." Already, she knew. She loved the sweet dog. How could she not since he looked so much like Rowdy?
Back at the ranch, Garrett gently lifted Fritz into the front seat of his truck. "I hope you don't mind." He helped her in beside the dog. "I hate for him to ride in the back right now."
"Of course, I don't." She cradled the dog's neck with her arms and relaxed against the leather seat. The adrenaline rush receded and the tear begging to release finally trailed down her cheek. She whisked it away hoping the cowboy hadn't seen it. Fritz's accident evoked difficult memories she usually didn't allow.



Garrett stretched and strolled the length of the small waiting room for the fiftieth time.
Near the window, Brooke sat on the couch, ramrod straight, twisting her fingers into knots.
He slipped down next to her again. "Dr. Casper's a good vet and runs his clinic like the big city facilities."
"You were right. Fritz's paw was sprained."
"Yes, and I'm grateful the doc went ahead with the extractions instead of waiting for his normal surgical hours. Especially since the drive to the ranch takes almost sixty minutes either way."
Brooke lifted worried blue eyes to him. "I couldn't have stood the thought of leaving Fritz here and going back to the ranch."
"I didn't mind the wait. It gave us a chance to grab a bite to eat and chat." He sighed. "I hope my old puppy did okay."
She patted his hand. "Fritz seems like a strong dog."
The vet's assistant stepped into the waiting room and smiled at Garrett. "Dr. Casper would like to see you, sir."
Garrett jumped to his feet and drew in a deep breath. "Will you go in with me? I think your presence might console him."
She bounded up, a frown creasing her forehead. "Most definitely."
"This way." The assistant led them down a hall and into a room at the rear of the building. Cabinets filled with supplies lined the walls. A monitor on a rolling cart stood next to a metal table. "Fritz did just fine. Dr. Casper will explain."
Fritz lay on the table, arms and legs motionless, as if asleep, a bandage on his paw and gauze in his mouth.
Brooke sipped a short breath through narrowed lips. "Oh, Fritz." She stepped closer, her fingers folded at her chest.
The vet, in a green surgical gown and a mask dangling from his neck, looked from Fritz to Garrett. "The extractions went well, but I'll need to keep him overnight."Dr. Casper tightened the straps on the brace around Fritz's leg. "We'll leave the support on so when he awakes, he won't injure his paw. The devise works like the human version. You can loosen the straps to remove for cleaning or inspection of his limb or to give Fritz a break. His paw isn't broken, only sprained, but he needs to wear it when he goes outside, and make sure you keep him on a leash."
Garrett's pulse pounded. His dog. Always active and now almost deathlike on the vet's operating table. He ran his fingers lightly over Fritz's still form. He wasn't ready to lose his pup now or anytime soon.
Brooke's face wore a frown. "What about his diet?"
Comfort, like a mountain breeze brushing his cheeks, quieted him. Another person cared about his dog, too.
"He needs to eat canned dog food for awhile until his mouth heals. As I explained earlier, both his canine and incisor teeth on the right side were compromised when he tried to release himself from the trap. You made the correct decision to allow me to remove them. Leaving a fractured tooth in the dog's mouth opens the door for infection which can spread to his bones. Tomorrow I'll send you home with antibiotic tablets he'll take twice a day."
Garrett combed a hand through his hair. "Sometimes I wonder if I should've brought him to Sunlight Guest Ranch. Especially where the only other canine companions are border collies."
"A ranch environment presents challenges." Dr. Casper stroked Fritz's head. "But he's got a lot of good qualities. This breed is one of the most affectionate and friendly." He pulled a pamphlet from the shelf. "Here's some information you may want to read. When you pick him up, I'll explain his post-surgery care. Then I'd like to see Fritz again in two weeks. And immediately if there's any swelling in his mouth."
Garrett stuck out his hand to shake the vet's and beamed at Brooke. "This lady found him in the trap and helped me rescue him. I think Fritz is greatly appreciative."
The vet smiled at Brooke. "All right. I'll see you tomorrow." The doctor scribbled something on a clipboard.
Outside in the waiting room, Garrett held the door leading to the parking lot. "I hope you'll come back with me to pick him up. I think he's going to need plenty of TLC."



The next afternoon, Garrett paid the bill and attached the leash to Fritz's collar.
Brooke gently rubbed his ears. "No more running away, okay boy?"
Fritz limped a few steps to nestle next to Brooke.
She wrapped her arms easily around his neck. Light brown hair fell onto Fritz's coat as she murmured something unintelligible in his ear.
Garrett chuckled under his breath. Fritz thrived on Brooke's attention. She peered at him with adoration, the kind Garrett wished a woman would show him.
Brooke patted Fritz one more time. "Ready to go home, boy?"
"You talking to him or me?" Garrett laughed.
The pink tint on her cheeks reminded him of a shy, little girl. "Fritz, silly."
He'd make a mental note. Brooke probably didn't joke around like he did. No matter. He wanted to get to know her better. And not just because Fritz had given his approval.
Garrett's truck sat two spaces from the office's front door. He reached down to lift Fritz into the back seat of the cab.
Brooke grasped his arm. "Can't he ride in the front again while he's recovering from his injuries?"
"If you don't mind him practically sitting on your lap."
"Definitely not. He needs some attention after having surgery. Poor guy is probably traumatized."
He coaxed Fritz into the front. "He's not used to getting pampered, but I suppose he deserves it after losing two teeth and spraining a paw."
Brooke nudged Fritz a little as she crawled into the passenger seat. "Okay, fellow, you gotta give me some room."
Fritz scooted over an inch and nestled his head in her lap, his mouth closed as if protecting the extraction sites.
Garrett turned the key in the ignition and pulled out on the main road to the ranch. "You said you used to have a golden doodle as a child?"
Brooke curved her gaze out the passenger window as if transported to another place and time. "Yeah. My dad brought Rowdy home from a pet shop to fill the void….I mean, to keep us company. He lived with us for eight years before he died." She wrapped one of the dog's curls around her finger. "I suppose that's why I'm partial to Fritz."
Garrett chuckled. "Any friend of Fritz's is a friend of mine, too."
Brooke's soft laugh reminded him of a bird's chirp.
Red Rock's town limits faded, and the familiar desert landscape swept before them. Badlands with odd-shaped rock hills loomed in eerie, random patterns. In the distance, the Big Horn Mountains filled the horizon. The Elk River flowing from the peaks, paralleled the road, cutting through the basin.
Brooke gazed out the passenger's window, only her blond curls visible from his vantage point.
Where had her thoughts led her? "So, what happened to Rowdy?"
She sighed and turned a troubled expression to him. "He died when I was a teen, a few years before…" Brooke clasped a hand over her mouth and coughed. "I lost my dog when he grew older."
What had she avoided saying? Something she didn't want him to hear. "So, did your father get another pet after that?"
"Er, no." She patted Fritz's head. "No, he didn't."
Brooke didn't seem comfortable talking about herself, and Garrett didn't want to pry. "I grew up with animals. Dogs, horses, cattle. Wild moose and elk."
"Where are you from?"
He peeked at Brooke and turned to the road again. "Born and raised right here in Wyoming—on a horse ranch. My parents still own and operate it."
She fingered her hair, the color of pine honey. "You chose to work at Sunlight Guest Ranch instead of your parents' place?"
"My family raises cattle and horses. I love working with people, so I applied for a position as a wrangler when I read Mr. Atkinson's ad in the Cody newspaper. You probably met him when you checked in—the owner of Sunlight." He'd answered her question but skip the detour to Seattle after college and the five stress-filled years as a corporate executive. "What about you? Where do you live?"
Brooke cleared her throat. "I'm from Dallas." She studied the view out the window again as if something had captured her interest—a herd of antelope roaming the hills? Clearly, she didn't want to talk about herself. But why? She was a beautiful young woman. She obviously had resources. A stay at the ranch started at $3,500. But not talking about herself was fine with him. He couldn't risk revealing his past, either.
 

Order Now!

<< Go Back