Page 77 of Montana Memory
“It wasn’t for you,” he said, blunt as ever. “But it’s clear Jada’s your priority. She deserves somebody good.”
“I don’t know that I’m good, but she is my priority.”
Caleb stared at me for a beat, then gave the smallest of nods. “That’s close enough.”
A few minutes later, I was leaving, trying to piece together everything Caleb had told me. There was something Jada and I were missing. Some piece of the puzzle we hadn’t even seen yet.
But hell if I knew what it was.
Chapter 25
Jada
I walked into the Pawsitive Connections barn and breathed deeply. It smelled like hay and sun-warmed wood, and something a little sweeter—maybe the lavender Lark sprinkled in the nesting boxes. I didn’t mind the smell. It clung to my skin, my clothes, followed me home like a clumsy puppy, but it was comforting. Real.
I scratched behind Olive’s ears—she was one of the rescue goats, pushy and loud and completely charming. She pressed her head into my hip like we’d been best friends for years. I smiled and reached for the bucket of feed.
“Okay, okay,” I laughed. “You’re not starving. Drama queen.”
I walked over to the stalls and gave Marvin, a shaggy pony who liked to step on my toes when he got bored, a pat on the neck, then grabbed the curry comb and began brushing his coat, letting the rhythm of it settle me. There was a peacefulness to this kind of work. Physical. Predictable. No judgments, noquestions. Just a pony who liked to fart when I hit the wrong spot on his belly.
The thought made me grin.
I hadn’t smiled this much in… Well, who knew? And yeah, maybe that should’ve felt weird, but it didn’t. It felt like possibility. Like maybe, if I had to start over, this wouldn’t be the worst place to do it. Lark had offered me the part-time job without asking any questions, paying me cash until we could get my IDs. Working here made me feel capable, and I knew Hunter approved.
Hunter.
I glanced toward the open barn doors, like I might see him standing there in that quiet way of his. Calm and still, like a soldier who knew how to breathe without taking up space. He’d be back tomorrow. Just thinking about it made my stomach flutter.
We needed to talk. About school, maybe. I wasn’t saying I was ready to jump into anything huge, but vet assisting didn’t sound like the worst idea. It’d be something. A direction. And for the first time, the future didn’t feel like a threat. It felt…open.
Which was a hundred percent because of him.
Even now, he was across state lines, chasing down the pieces I couldn’t. Doing the hard things I wasn’t ready for. I didn’t know what I’d done to deserve him. But I knew one thing—if I was building a life from scratch, I wanted him in it.
The sound of tires crunching on gravel pulled me out of my daydreams.
I glanced toward the gate, one hand still resting on Marvin’s neck. A sedan pulled up, looking out of place next to the aging feed truck and beat-up pickup. It wasn’t unusual for visitors to show up—families coming to meet therapy animals, volunteers, vets—but this wasn’t that.
I squinted, waiting for someone familiar to step out. Two men emerged, both in suits.Suits.
“Great,” I muttered under my breath. “That’s not ominous at all.”
Then I remembered—Lark had run into town for supplies. Left about thirty minutes ago. Crap. That meant I was the only one here.
I wiped my hands on the thighs of my jeans, glanced down at the smudge of hay and goat slobber on my shirt, and sighed. I may have worked PR for a hotel before, but I was not built for customer-facing anything yet.
But I couldn’t exactly hide in the barn. They’d already seen me.
So I squared my shoulders and stepped away from the fence line, giving a small wave. “Hey there,” I called out, keeping my tone easy. “You’ll need to come back tomorrow if you’re hoping to speak with Lark. She’s out for a while.”
I thought that should’ve been the end of it, but they didn’t turn around.
The taller of the two smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “We’re not here to see Lark.”
I stopped walking. My stomach tightened. “Okay…?”
“We’re here for you, Jada.”
