Waiting for Wyatt (Red Dirt #1) Read Online Free PDF

the motor, he walked out of the kennel building, wearing the exact same outfit as last time with the exception of his shirt. Today it was brown.
    He didn’t seem happy. He didn’t seem happy at all. I didn’t really expect Wyatt to come running out and sweep me up in a big hug. A smile would’ve been courteous with the dimples being a bonus. Instead, Wyatt had a glare of uncertainty. He still regretted inviting me back.
    I got out of the car, wearing cutoff shorts and a tiny V-neck T-shirt. My hair fell down in blonde, shiny curls I’d styled with my curling iron. As I walked over to where he was standing, his piercing eyes never looked me over. If Wyatt had a choice, I think he would’ve shoved me back in the car and pointed it toward the silver gate. Yet his grouchy attitude didn’t make me nervous like it did the first time.
    “Hi, Wyatt.” I smiled up at him. His eyes squinted a bit without a response. I was too close, and he had to look down to see me. “I came back.”
    “So you did.”
    “Ok. So . . . do you want me to just go see Charlie or did you want me to do something else?”
    “Like what?”
    “You tell me. You need help with anything?”
    “No.” He shuffled back a few steps, putting more distance between us.
    “You sure? I could help you . . .” I trailed off, not sure what to suggest. I smiled up at his hard face and shrugged.
    “I don’t need your help. Just go see Charlie. That’s why you came. Then you can go.”
    “Okay then.” Ignoring the sting of his dismissal, I walked past him inside the kennel. Slower this time so I could take in each animal. Some of the dogs pressed against the gates with open mouths and tongues, hanging out like they were smiling.
    I stopped next to a medium-sized, brown dog. Bending closer to the ground, I scratched his face through the gate. My heart felt something awful inside as I noticed his ears were cut to the scalp, jagged and uneven, almost like a dull knife had sawed into the skin. And the scars. They were everywhere. The gray scars wrapped around and around his mouth like a person . . . no way. That couldn’t be possible.
    “That’s Chewy.” I heard Wyatt’s voice behind me. I waited to see if he continued, but he didn’t say another word.
    Glancing over my shoulder, I saw his tight, sealed lips. So this is how it was going to be with him. “And?” I prompted.
    He let out a loud breath. “Chewy had his mouth wired shut when Diana found him on the side of the road. He could open his mouth just enough to get a sip of water. The more he tried to work it free, the deeper it embedded into his skin.”
    I swallowed hard, running my fingers over the raised scars. “Why would someone do that?”
    “Why does anyone do any of this stuff?” His hand gestured out toward the other dogs.
    I got up from my spot and walked slowly past the next few kennels. I was speechless. Each animal peered out with big eyes, grabbing me like a fist inside my chest. Each had some form of brutal injury that marred them for life. Each had the remnants of torture; a product of some selfish desire to own what couldn’t be owned. So they broke them physically until the poor animal had no choice. The whole place was ten times worse than Charlie. I froze, feeling the burn in the back of my throat.
    “I had the same reaction the first time.” His voice was soft and scratchy. I looked over toward Wyatt. His arm was resting on the metal gate. Our eyes held for a moment before he looked at the ground. He seemed more relaxed than when I’d first arrived today. I wanted to ask him questions. Hundreds of them flew through my head all at once. But he was talking and he seemed to work better if I allowed it to happen on his own terms.
    “So I guess that means it gets easier seeing them?”
    “Yeah. Sometimes I still have to remind myself the scars are there, but nobody’s hurting them anymore. We are giving them a better life than where they came from.” His face twisted up