Free Nick of Time by Tim Downs Page A

father’s disappearance, when the people of the town of Endor began to spread rumors about her—when they began to call her witch and tell imaginary stories about unspeakable things she did with animals at night—well, she let them go right ahead. She never defended herself, not even once. Why bother? That kind of ignorance can’t be cured—why should she lower herself to their level?
    So she closed her gate and locked it and that was that. And no one came through that gate anymore except for Gunner and dear sweet Rose, the only decent people in all of Endor—the only people who cared if she lived or died—the only people who had cared enough to bring her food and clothing and to talk with her and hold her. Behind this gate Alena had continued her father’s work—rescuing dogs doomed to perish, healing them, restoring their broken spirits, discovering the unique gift that each of them possessed from birth, and honing that gift until the dog could perform with uncanny ability.
    For years these dogs had been her only “social connections,” and she had no idea how to begin to “open up to people” now—the very thought made her queasy. And that’s when she came up with the idea. For years she had rescued dogs from animal shelters and sold them to the Canine Enforcement Training Center in Front Royal, and to Puppies Behind Bars, and to a dozen other training facilities and nonprofits; why not give some of her rescued dogs to families looking for pets?
    So she put up a sign and she opened her gate—and right now she regretted doing it. But she knew in her heart that Gunner was right—the dear man didn’t know how to give bad advice. Alena was getting married on Saturday, and that would mean a whole new life with Nick. And she wanted that life, even though she was afraid of it, and if this was how you got started on it, well—she was willing to give it a try.
    “Sorry,” Alena said, fumbling for words. “My dogs don’t have any problems. They’ve got all their shots; no health problems, no heartworm, no fleas or ticks—I check them over myself every week.”
    “I didn’t mean to offend you,” the woman said. “I just meant—”
    “It’s okay. Some people think that mixed breeds are messed up somehow—you know, because they’re not pure . Fact is, it’s the purebreds that have most of the problems: joint problems, skin problems, eye problems—you know, the genetic stuff. Purebreds tend to have the temperament problems too— aggressiveness or hyperactivity. My dogs have a little bit of everything mixed in, so the genes sort of balance each other out. You might have to flex on looks a little, but if you’re just looking for a good, healthy animal, a mixed breed is the way to go. The way I look at it, we’re all mutts when it comes right down to it. The worst idea anybody ever came up with was that somebody’s blood was purer than somebody else’s.”
    They were interrupted by the sound of crunching gravel. Alena glanced up just in time to see Gunner’s Ford Ranger pull off the gravel drive and park beside the family’s silver SUV. Gunner stepped out and waved as he started toward them.
    “Did you come up to see how my rehab is going?” Alena called out.
    “No, I’ve got a message for you—from Nick.”
    Alena felt her heart do a sudden jump.
    Gunner nodded a greeting to the family. “Morning, folks. Shopping for a dog today?”
    “Yeah,” the man said. “The problem is, they all look great.
    How do we ever settle on one?”
    “Ask her,” Gunner said. “This woman knows more about dogs than anybody you’ll ever meet. If Alena tells you it’s a good one, you can depend on it.”
    “They’re all good,” Alena said impatiently. “Just pick one. What did Nick say?”
    “Take care of your customers first,” Gunner said. “I’m in no hurry.”
    You’re in no hurry . Alena gave him a piercing look. She knew what Gunner was doing—he wanted to watch and see how she was