The Rancher and the Vet. Julie Benson
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habit she couldn’t overlook, or her boyfriend’s future plans conflicted with hers. Whatever the reason, the fun and attraction fizzled out after a few months.
Stop it. Focus on work and quit thinking about Reed and your pathetic love life.
So far the week had been a good one for the shelter. Five dogs, six cats and three horses had been adopted. They’d gotten enough donations to buy animal food to last until the end of the next month. Hopefully the recent events indicated an upward trend.
“Betty Hartman called this morning and said she couldn’t come in,” Emma Jean Donovan, Avery’s volunteer coordinator and right-hand gal, said the minute Avery walked into the front reception area.
“Oh, the joys of working with volunteers.” People thought nothing of canceling at the last minute, not realizing how the shelter relied on them to accomplish many of the daily tasks, chores that had to be done, no matter what.
“Because she wasn’t here, Shirley didn’t have anyone to gossip with, so guess who got an earful?”
“Better you than me, Em.”
“All she could talk about was Reed Montgomery being back in town.”
“So I discovered when I stopped by the Rocking M this morning.”
“You saw him? Are you okay?”
While Em had been two years behind Avery and Reed in school, everyone in town knew about their messy breakup. The news had spread through Estes Park High faster than the flu. “I was barely eighteen when we broke up. I got over him ages ago. So what if he’s back? I don’t care.”
“Oka-a-ay.” Em drew out the word, and tossed her a sly whatever-you-say-though-I-don’t-believe-a-word-of-it grin. “You don’t have to convince me. Is he still hot?”
“He looked sort of silly standing there in the barn wearing dress pants and a pinstriped shirt, but I guess he’s attractive in a California yuppie sort of way.”
Liar. He’d looked better than ever. He’d been a teenager when he left. He was all man now.
“I could get used to California yuppie. If you’re not interested, do you mind if I make a play for him?”
“He probably has a yuppie girlfriend, but if he doesn’t, go for it.” Annoyed with the topic and her internal hell-no reaction to Em’s question, Avery steered the conversation back to shelter business. “Has anything happened that I actually need to know about?”
“We had an abandoned mama dog and her litter dropped off this morning. The pups are about three weeks old.”
So much for the to-do list she’d compiled last night. Avery’s top priority now became examining the latest arrivals and getting them ready for foster care. The commotion at the shelter was too much for a mama and her babies, especially for the five weeks until they could be put up for adoption. “Got any ideas of who can foster the little family?”
“It’s already taken care of. Jenny will pick them up once you give them the all clear.”
“You’re amazing.”
“And on only four hours’ sleep.”
“I heard the band was playing at Halligan’s. How’d the gig go?”
Music and her country-and-western band were Emma’s first loves, with animals a close second. She worked at the shelter to pay her bills, and moonlighted playing at area bars in the hopes that someone would spot her and offer her a record deal.
Emma’s face lit up. “The crowd was small but enthusiastic. My new song went over well.”
“When your record deal comes through, promise me you’ll train someone before you leave me. Not that anyone would do the job as well as you do, but at least then I’ll have a chance for survival.”
“I am one of a kind.” A beaming Emma held out an envelope. “This came by registered mail.”
Avery read the return address. Franklin, Parker and Simmons, attorneys at law in Denver. “Let’s hope it’s good news. Maybe someone left us a bequest in their will.”
She tore open the envelope, pulled out the letter and started reading. The missive indeed dealt with a will—Sam Weston’s. Twenty-five years ago, when Geraldine Griswald had created an animal shelter, her husband and Sam were hunting buddies. Sam, also an animal lover, rented Geraldine a piece of land with a tiny building along Highway 35 East for one dollar a year. Eventually, the shelter raised money and built a bigger facility.
Avery read further. No. This couldn’t be right. The shelter didn’t own the land their building stood on? Everyone believed Sam had donated the land to the Estes Park animal shelter over fifteen years ago.
This couldn’t be happening.
She read further. Sam’s heirs wanted to sell all his land to a developer, including the parcel where the shelter stood. They’d “generously” offered to let the shelter buy their lot if they matched the developer’s price of three hundred thousand dollars. Otherwise, they had forty-five days to move.
Three hundred thousand dollars. Just raising a 20-percent down payment of sixty grand would be daunting in the allotted time. Avery swallowed hard and tried to push down her panic.
The Estes Park animal shelter was the only one for miles. If it closed, the other shelters would have trouble dealing with the additional demands on their resources, and the animals would pay the price.
“From the look on your face, I’m guessing it’s bad news.”
Talk about an understatement, but Avery couldn’t tell Emma that. Until she checked into the situation, she’d keep the news to herself. But if she discovered they didn’t own the land, everyone would hear about the situation, because they’d need every cent they could get to keep the shelter open.
“Nothing I can’t handle.” Avery inwardly winced. How could she say that with a straight face, especially to Emma who knew her so well? They’d both pinched every penny thin over the past few months to keep the shelter afloat, but she thought she could come up with sixty grand? Delusional, that’s what she was.
“Next thing you’ll try to sell me the Rocky Mountains.”
So much for keeping the news to herself, because she refused to lie to Emma. Glancing around the front room, Avery made sure no volunteers or other staff members were around before she told Emma the news.
“What are we going to do? Do I need to update my résumé?”
“Don’t you dare. I need your help now more than ever. This is the game plan. While I’m examining the new arrivals, you’ll contact the property clerk to find out who they show owns the land.”
“What about the board?”
Avery cringed. Harper Stinson, the shelter’s board president and a top graduate from the micromanager school of business, had hinted they could solve all their financial problems by cutting staff. If Avery didn’t handle the situation carefully, Harper would run amok through the streets of Estes Park with the news of the shelter’s impending doom.
“I’ll figure out how to tell the board when I have more information.” She’d be proactive. Assess the situation and develop a plan before she spoke to them.
“Lucky you.”
“The board may be a big help. They’ve got a wide range of skills and talents, and that’s exactly what we need right now.”
“When they aren’t arguing over who has the best idea and who should be in charge of the project.” Emma shuddered. “I still have nightmares about our last dog-washing fund-raiser.”
“Thanks for reminding me about that.” Three of the board members had taken on organizing key aspects of the fund-raiser. Avery had been forced into the peacemaker role when the lines between the jobs blurred and