Love Rents A Room

"Is that a four-leaf clover?" Joanne's voice was laced with genuine surprise, her eyes fixed on the delicate green leaf JD held out to her.

JD's grin softened, and he nodded. "Found it right at your entrance."

Joanne blinked, her bewilderment not just from the rarity of the clover but from the thoughtfulness behind the gesture. She hadn't received a gift in what felt like ages—especially not one so simple yet oddly meaningful.

"On my farm?" she asked, taking the clover with careful fingers.

"Yup," JD replied. "It was right there in the grass, waiting for someone to notice it."

Joanne held the leaf in her palm, her gaze lingering on it as if it were a precious treasure. And, in a way, it was. She had spent countless moments of her life—during childhood picnics and teenage daydreams—searching through fields and patches of clover, hoping to find one. Yet, she had never succeeded.

She believed she was unlucky. That was why she told herself it was a lucky day whenever something went wrong in her life. She never thought that luck was on her side.

And now, of all people, a Jeffrey had handed her one.

"Thank you," she said softly, a smile breaking across her face. It felt strange to smile so freely, yet here she was, cradling the tiny clover like a fragile miracle.

Before she could linger on the thought, a sharp bark cut through the quiet, jolting her from her reverie. Her heart jumped.

"That's Mr. Bingley!" she exclaimed, the recognition immediate. Without hesitation, she rushed to the porch, her eyes scanning the horizon.

There he was—her Great Pyrenees dog, who'd been missing for a week. Relief swept over her like a tidal wave, but her astonishment grew as she spotted what Mr. Bingley brought with him.

Three sheep trailed behind him, their wool dirty but intact, and one of them carried an unmistakable addition. A newborn lamb teetered on unsteady legs beside its mother.

Joanne's hands flew to her mouth. "Mr. Bingley!" she cried, rushing down the steps toward him.

The massive dog stood proud, his white coat marred with dried blood and scratches—evidence of a fierce battle. He panted heavily but wagged his tail, his eyes shining with triumph.

Joanne dropped to her knees and wrapped her arms around him, her voice thick with emotion. "You incredible, stubborn, wonderful boy. You did it. You brought them home."

Patrick appeared behind her, his own amazement apparent. "Well, I'll be. Thought those sheep were goners for sure."

Joanne nodded, her fingers running through Mr. Bingley's fur. "We thought coyotes got them." She leaned closer, inspecting his wounds. "You fought for them, didn't you? You big warrior! I love you!"

Mr. Bingley let out a low, contented rumble, as if affirming her words.

Her eyes shifted to the lamb, its soft bleat breaking the momentary silence. She reached out, stroking its tiny head. "Welcome home, little one."

"Well, look at that! It's a pretty lucky day for you, Jo!" Patrick chuckled, rubbing his belly. "Your goat had three female kids, and now your sheep are back with an addition…"

Joanne glanced at Patrick, her lips pressing together in an attempt to hide her happiness. But the sparkle in her eyes betrayed her. She knew exactly what Patrick was hinting at: the notion that JD's arrival had somehow turned the tide in her favor.

"I'll take him to the vet's office to check out," Patrick said, swiftly changing the subject. He knew better than to push her too hard. Joanne had a knack for rejecting anything forced upon her, no matter how well-intentioned.

Just as Patrick bent down to take hold of Mr. Bingley, the dog growled low in his throat, his eyes fixating on something—or someone—behind Joanne.

She turned, her expression already shifting to one of exasperation, to see JD approaching. His silly grin was plastered across his face, as if he hadn't a care in the world.

"Is that a retriever puppy? He's cute… Wow! I've never seen a lamb this young before. Can I touch him?" JD said, already reaching out a hand toward the lamb.

Mr. Bingley, ever the protective guardian, barked sharply, his stance rigid as he stood between JD and the sheep.

"Mr. Bingley, stay!" Joanne commanded in a firm voice. The dog hesitated, his tail twitching, but eventually sat with a low whine.

Joanne shot a sharp glance at Patrick—a glance that all but screamed I told you so. Then, with the air of someone forced to deal with an imbecile, she turned to JD, her smile tight and thin.

"Mr. Daniels," she began, her tone syrupy-sweet but edged with steel, "I'd strongly advise against touching the livestock—or the dogs—without supervision. That's not a retriever puppy, as you seem to think. Mr. Bingley here is a Pyrenean Mountain Dog, one of the best livestock guardians you'll find. They're trained to fight wolves and bears if necessary. They are highly territorial and trust me, they don't take kindly to strangers."

JD's hand froze mid-air as Joanne continued.

"I also have Border Collies," she added, her eyes narrowing slightly. "They work with the flock and aren't house pets. None of these dogs are. They're socialized enough to tolerate strangers, but it's best for everyone, including yourself, that you keep your distance. Around here, people value their dogs highly, and if one bites, they may need to be put down. That's a loss no one is willing to take. Remember that moving forward."

Without waiting for a response, Joanne turned on her heel, her gait long and purposeful. It was as if she regretted leaving JD unsupervised in her house earlier, and she was determined to rectify that mistake immediately.

JD raised his eyebrows, watching her retreat. Despite the scolding—or perhaps because of it—he couldn't help but smile.

"What a character," he muttered under his breath. A true redhead—spirited and fiery, confident and assertive. She stirred something deep in him, a spark he hadn't felt in years.

Patrick let out a small chuckle. "She's not wrong, you know," he said, breaking JD's thoughts. "It's not just about your safety. It's for the dogs' too. Folks around here depend on their dogs. Losing one over a misunderstanding…" He shook his head. "It's a hard pill to swallow."

JD nodded, absorbing the lesson. It seemed he was learning something new every day.