When we finally hang up, I'm left staring at my dark reflection in the laptop screen, feeling simultaneously satisfied and achingly empty.
Three more days.
I can do three more days.
Chapter Twenty
MIa
The next morning arrives with the kind of crisp mountain air that makes everything feel possible. I'm feeding the puppies their breakfast when I hear the familiar sound of a car door slamming in the parking lot, followed by the cheerful voice of someone who clearly doesn't know the shelter isn't officially open yet.
"Mia, dear! Are you in there?"
Carol Scott's voice carries through the front door, and I feel an immediate rush of warmth. I hurry to unlock the entrance, finding her standing on the steps with a thermal bag in one hand and a tray of coffee in the other.
"Mrs. Scott—Carol," I correct myself, remembering her insistence on informality. "What are you doing here so early?"
"Oh, I was up at dawn anyway, and Tom kept going on about how you're probably living on takeout and caffeine while Ryder's away." She pushes past me into the shelter, taking in therenovation progress with obvious approval. "Besides, I wanted to see these improvements Ryder keeps gushing about."
Takeout and caffeine?
First Emma dropping off muffins yesterday, now Carol with breakfast. Next thing I know, Sophia will arrive with lunch and Natalie with dinner.
Does everyone in Iron Ridge think I'll starve without supervision? I survived eight years feeding myself just fine when Ryder wasn't around to "worry" about me.
Carol sets her bags down on the front desk and starts unpacking what appears to be enough food to feed a small army. I can see where Ryder gets it.
Fresh muffins—the lemon blueberry ones that smell like Sunday mornings—thermoses of what I'm sure is perfectly brewed coffee, and what looks like a casserole dish that's still warm.
"Carol, you didn't have to do all this."
"Nonsense. You're taking care of everyone else." She gestures toward the back room where Zoe is busy feeding the animals. "Someone needs to take care of you."
The simple kindness in her voice makes my throat tight.
"How is he doing? Really?" I ask, accepting the coffee gratefully. "He sounds good when we talk, but..."
"But you want to know if he's homesick?" Carol's smile is knowing. "Honey, that boy has been calling us every single night, and at least half of every conversation is about you. Yesterday he spent twenty minutes describing the text you sent him about one of those adorable puppies learning to sit on command."
"That's... actually really sweet."
"He's smitten," Carol says simply, then looks around the shelter with curious eyes. "Mind if I help with the morning routine? I used to volunteer at the animal shelter in the next town over before we moved to Iron Ridge."
"Of course! I'd love the company." I wave her toward the back room, carefully stepping over a pile of sawdust. "Just be careful of the tools. These men don't know how to clean up after themselves. I swear, it's like they think hammers magically sprout legs and walk back to the toolbox at night."
Carol laughs, following alongside me. "Oh honey, that's just men in general. Tom once left his socket wrench set scattered across our entire garage for a week. Said he was in the middle of a project." She rolls her eyes fondly. "The project was finished days ago."
"Like father, like son," I mutter, remembering how Ryder's house looks right now. "Though I suppose I can't complain too much. They're doing amazing work here."
I get to work and Carol proves to be surprisingly adept at handling everything from the smallest kitten to the largest rescue dog. She has a natural way with the animals, speaking to them in a soft, motherly voice that immediately puts them at ease.
"You know, dear," she says as we clean the kennels. "Ryder bought that house of his eight months ago."
I pause in the middle of refilling a water bowl. "Eight months?"
"Mmhmm. Paid cash, had all these grand plans for renovation. Spent weeks measuring rooms." Carol's voice is carefully casual, but I can sense there's a point to this story. "But you know what's interesting?"
"What?"
