Austin shook his head. “We’ve got it covered. Besides, I feel if you tried to take it from Mrs. Winslow, she’d riot.”
Levi grinned. “You say that like you’ve already installed lasers.”
“He might have,” I muttered into my mug.
Levi laughed. “Call if you need anything. Mason’s running shifts. Fair warning, Mrs. Winslow signed up twice.”
“That’s so terrifying,” I said. “She’s feisty and wields that cane like a Bo staff.”
“She’s bringing binoculars and a thermos.”
We all laughed at that, and then, when Levi left, the quiet came back. Austin cut two pieces of pie and handed me one. It was bright and tart. For a minute, I let myself forget why we needed comfort food at all.
“I’m going to check the back gate.” Austin stood.
“You checked it this morning.”
“I’ll check it again.”
I rolled my eyes and shook my head, knowing I couldn’t stop him. It kept Austin in motion, a routine he fell back into that I’m sure made him comfortable. Like a checklist.
I watched from the window as he crossed the yard. He was confident, like he could hold the world up. Maybe he already was.
When he came back, his face carried that practiced calm he wore when he didn’t want me to worry. “Everything’s fine.”
“Good,” I said. “Because raccoons got in the feed this morning, their little handprints were on the stall mat. I swear they’re getting gutsy.”
He smiled, leaned on the counter, and for a while, we just stood there. The clock ticked steadily, like a heartbeat. Inspector stretched on the sill, paw over his face.
It was such a perfectly normal moment.
The house fell silent. I dried another plate. Outside, the wind shifted—a hard gust rattled the shutters and made the screen door groan.
“Wind should fade by tonight,” Austin said.
“Forecast says clear for the next few days. I’d have to say I’m getting tired of the wind. Give me rain or snow, anything but the wind.”
“Yes, I agree.” He tensed, and the crease between his eyebrows deepened.
“What is it?” I listened but didn’t hear anything. “I don’t know, but doesn’t it feel like something’s off?”
I cocked my head to the side, thinking. I hated the wind, and today was no different.
He moved to the kitchen door, scanning the yard. His reflection ghosted in the glass. His brows creased as he went still.
In the cat tree, Inspector’s ears flicked. He leapt from his tree and shot down the hall. His tail fat and bushy.
Then—crash.
Glass exploded inward. A brick slammed into the far wall and dropped to the floor, trailing dirt and paper.
Austin leapt over the island and pulled me down behind the counter. Shards hit the tile like rain.
My pulse roared in my ears.
“You okay?” he asked.
I nodded, throat dry. “I think so.”
