Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 63917 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 320(@200wpm)___ 256(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63917 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 320(@200wpm)___ 256(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
Daisy moves one paw, then another. She lifts her twitching nose, as if sniffing Luke’s words to see if they smell like truth.
“And if you all get along, they would love to adopt you,” he adds. “I know you’ve been through some painful things, and the person you loved went away. But that doesn’t mean life will always be painful. You have a chance at a fresh start.”
Slowly, slowly, one tentative paw after another, Daisy reaches the front of the crate.
Luke extends his hand, palm up, letting her sniff.
After a moment, Daisy’s pink tongue darts out, licking his fingers, and her tail gives the smallest wag. A beat later, she turns to me with a searching gaze.
I smile, extending my hand, too. “He’s right, Daisy. We’re all friends here, sweet girl. We all just want to help you feel safe again.” She nuzzles her head into my fingertips, and I stroke her soft fur, awed by the grace and generosity of animals all over again.
Truly, what would we humans do without them?
“There you go,” Luke whispers. “You’re very brave.”
I have to blink against the sudden sting of tears. This is the Luke I know. The one who is patient and kind and empathizes with the wounded creatures in the world.
While Daisy, now calm enough to be very interested in her turkey treat, quickly wolfs up every scrap of meat in the cup, Janet hands me her leash.
I pass it over to Luke, watching as he clips it to her collar with the same careful patience. Then, we stand and walk Daisy over to the Underwood family—a couple in their fifties with kind faces and a college-age daughter who immediately drops to her knees, tears of joy shining in her eyes.
“Oh, look at you. You’re perfect, baby,” the girl whispers, making Daisy’s tail wag harder. “You look like you could be Oreo’s twin. Doesn’t she, Mom?”
“She does,” Mrs. Underwood agrees, sounding a little tearful herself.
Twenty minutes later, the family loads a much more relaxed Daisy into their car, and just like that, the last animal has found a home.
The parking lot is nearly empty now. Just Luke and me and Janet and her husband folding up the volunteer table.
The sun has set completely, leaving us in purple winter twilight, with the temperature falling fast. The clean-up crew rolled the heaters back into the community center half an hour ago, and for the first time all day, I wish I had a base layer on under my heavy sweater.
“Come on,” Luke says, nodding toward my tent. “Let’s get your car packed before it gets any darker.”
“Okay,” I agree. “Thanks.”
We break down my photography station in silence. I roll up the backdrop while Luke disassembles the tent, then we make two trips to the Honda, loading the larger items first before heading back to retrieve the cases of camera and lighting equipment.
By the time we’re done, we’re alone in the small gravel overflow parking lot across the street, our breath forming clouds in the air between us.
This is it.
My chance to ask what the hell happened, to fight for whatever this is before it disappears completely.
“That went well, I think.” I try for a light tone and land somewhere between nervous and pleading. “We make a good team.”
Luke’s face shuts down again. Just like that. Like flipping a switch.
The softness that crept in during our time with Daisy vanishes like it was never there at all, until he’s studying me with an expression so impersonal it’s jarring.
“We managed well enough.” His voice is flat, final. “But, I confess, I’m glad the blackmail portion of my holiday is done. I hope you enjoy the rest of the season, Holly.”
“Wh-what?” I stammer. “You’re not seriously—”
“Take care.” He lifts an arm as he starts across the gravel, heading toward wherever his car is parked, I assume. “I’ll stay out of your way.”
Stay out of my way? What? When was he ever in my way?
The hits just keep coming.
The parking lot seems to spin as this bizarre day gets even crazier.
I want to rush after Luke and grab his arm. Make him look at me, demand an explanation that makes sense. But my body won’t move. I’m frozen, watching him walk down the street, his shoulders straight and his stride steady.
He doesn’t look back.
Not once.
The cold night air cuts through my sweater to chill my bones, and in the distance, I catch laughter drifting from the pub. Low conversation by the country store. Doors slamming as the town offices lock up for the weekend. Normal sounds. Normal Friday night in Silver Bell Falls. As if the world hasn’t just tilted sideways, dumped me into the Twilight Zone, and kicked me in the shins.
My phone buzzes in my pocket.
Probably Candy, checking to make sure I’m okay.
But I’m not okay, not even close.