Rescue - Robin and John Stoker

When John gets to Rowan House, he can hear singing. It’s soft and quiet, sounding like a lullaby. He walks carefully up to the door, knocking softly. If Robin’s happy, he doesn’t want to disturb him.
The Rowan opens the door, and John steps in…and trips over something that wraps itself around his legs. He catches himself on a handful of the Rowan’s branches, and just barely saves himself from an embarrassing sprawl onto the floor.
Robin turns around from where he’s apparently pacing the back of the room, something wrapped in a towel in his arms. John watches as a small brown nose pokes its way out of the cloth.
He’s distracted by a growling sound by his feet, and he looks down to see his would-be assailant chewing on his pant leg. It’s a small black puppy with a stubby tail and lopped-over ears.
There’s at least two more, he notices, peeking their heads over the side of a box in the corner. A shaggy golden one, and one with white and brown splotches.
“Sorry, I can’t seem to keep that one in the box,” Robin apologizes. “I’d pull him off your leg but my hands are a little full at the moment.” The chocolate-colored puppy in his arms squirms and huffs. “Someone dumped them by the side of the road, Cody called me on his way to work.”
John reaches down and picks up the wiggly ball of fur and teeth. The little guy’s kind of cute, with white paws and a white spot on his head that reminds John of one of the ranch dogs they used to have.
“This one’s the runt,” Robin explains. “She gets cold too easily for me to just leave her in the box like the others.” He rubs the towel over the puppy’s head and she nuzzles his hand. “Cody will be home soon to help take care of them…”
John pulls out his phone with the hand that isn’t currently being used to keep a squirmy troublemaker . “I’ll tell Maira there’s a puppy emergency. She’ll understand.” He snaps a picture of the little one in Robin’s arms to send with the text. Or at least that’s what he tells himself. Because Robin, looking down lovingly at the little helpless ball of fur, is too precious a moment not to capture.