When he didn’t do more than nod encouragingly, she added, “As he grows up, Rock will be great at leading someone with vision issues or providing a safe landing for someone prone to seizures. You know—for stability.”

“Oh.” Harrison blinked. “I don’t need that.”

“Not really, no.”

“Well, what about that one, then? He looks like he knows his way around a back alley or two.”

He nodded toward the bulldog in the next slot over. Like Rock the Great Dane, this one was prancing about in one of a dozen half-walled pens built in an extension off the back of Sophie’s house. Unlike other dog kennels, Puppy Promise kept none of their animals fully caged in. They had room to climb and jump and pop their heads up to say a friendly hello to their neighbors. And they did too, wet noses being pressed and kissed from one animal to another. When added to the bright-blue walls and not-unpleasant smell of organic cleaning solutions and puppy breath, the result was strangely inviting.

“Rusty?” Sophie asked as the wriggling, wrinkly puppy came bounding forward. His expression held a belligerence that appealed to Harrison on a visceral level. This dog might not be as physically intimidating as a Great Dane, but he sensed a kindred spirit. Grump and grumpier. “No, you don’t want him. He’ll be a nice emotional support dog someday, but he can’t smell worth anything.”

Harrison bit back his disappointment and allowed his gaze to skim over the other options. He immediately bypassed a tall white poodle that looked as if it had been recently permed and a tiny, yappy thing with eyes like raisins. A soft golden retriever with a mournful expression peeped up at him from the corner. “How about—”

Sophie coughed once more, cutting him short. When he turned to see what the problem was this time, he found her standing a few paces back, holding her hands out in front of her as if warding him off. His gaze was immediately drawn to those hands—so smooth and soft, her nails carefully polished to match her outfit. His own hands were like burned leather, cracked and callused all over. That was what happened when you spent half of your life battling wildfires. What the elements didn’t scorch, the flames did.

“What is it?” he asked, his heart sinking at the sight of those hands. They were nice hands, obviously, but he knew what that gesture meant. Harrison Parks has done it again. Ten minutes in this woman’s company and she’d already seen through his sorry exterior to the even sorrier contents of his soul.

“The truth is, Mr. Parks, we only have one dog right now that matches your specific needs.”

“Okay.” He swallowed. “Which one is he?”

“He’s a female, actually. And she’s really sweet.”