Stray Hearts by Jane Graves

taken responsibility for Rambo instead of letting him run loose, which was a pretty big step for a woman who feels about dogs the way the average person feels about rattlesnakes.
    But what about the eight-hundred-dollar debt Rambo had incurred? He thought of the fifty-dollar check in his pocket and almost laughed out loud. Maybe it would buy him a ticket to that mythical place where money grows on trees.
    “Kay, I’d really like to give you the money.”
    “Good. Then we don’t have a problem after all.”
    “But I don’t have eight hundred dollars.” He collapsed on the bench beside the front door and yanked his tie from around his neck. “Do you know where I was tonight?”
    “I told you before. I’m not interested in your love life.”
    “Oh, would you get off that? I didn’t have a date.”
    “But you said you were with women—”
    “Yes. The members of the McKinney Metropolitan Ladies’ Club. And not one of them was under age sixty. They invited me to speak about the shelter.” He tossed his muddy tie to the bench beside him, then reached into his shirt pocket, pulled out a check and held it up. “The ladies were kind enough to make a donation. Fifty dollars.”
    “That’s very nice. But it’s seven hundred and fifty short.”
    “Right now, it’s just about all I’ve got.”
    “Oh, come on, Matt. Surely—”
    “I’m not joking, Kay. What my ex-wife didn’t take, the shelter has used up.”
    Then Kay remembered. He was divorced. Suddenly her anger gave way to a little curiosity. “How long were you married?”
    “Eight years.” Matt’s voice took on an unmistakably bitter tone.
    Kay shoved Matt’s muddy tie aside and sat down beside him. “So what happened? I mean, why did you...?”
    “Get a divorce? Because my ex-wife wanted an uptown address and her name in the society pages, and she finally figured out that wasn’t going to happen as long as she was married to me.”
    Matt put his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands in front of him. Kay sat in silence, listening to the rain pelt the bushes beside the porch steps. She’d come here ready to do battle with Matt, only to find herself hopelessly sympathetic with the enemy.
    “And then there’s the shelter,” Matt went on. “I bought the place next door so I could take in strays. It’s something I’ve wanted to do ever since I was a kid. We were pretty broke back then, so I never had pets, but I thought when I grew up....” His voice faded away, his face falling into a disillusioned frown. “Now I’m broke again, and I have thirty-some mouths to feed.”
    Kay remembered the way he’d sweated over that rattletrap air conditioner, with grease from head to toe, and now she knew why. So he wouldn’t have to call a repairman.
    “I’m sorry, Kay,” Matt said. “I have no idea why I told you all that. You’ve got enough problems of your own to think about.” He rubbed his eyes, then let out a weary breath. “I guess I just wanted you to know that I’m really not...” He glanced at her, then looked away again. “...a tightwad.”
    Kay remembered that insult she’d hurled his way and cringed at how petty it sounded now. He looked so forlorn sitting on the paint-chipped bench, wet and rumpled, holding that fifty-dollar check, that she regretted every word she’d uttered about that stupid cat litter.
    “Do you have any friends who can put you up for a while?”
    Sheila came to mind, but Kay couldn’t possibly horn in on her and Jim. They’d only been married a few months. And she couldn’t move back into the apartment building she’d just been evicted from, anyway. Unfortunately, she had no other friends she’d feel comfortable staying with more than a day or two.
    “No,” she told Matt. “I don’t.”
    “Relatives?”
    “I have a sister, but I’d rather sleep at the bus station.”
    “Could she at least loan you—”
    “No. I can’t ask her for money. She already thinks I’m incompetent.” She sighed