“Callum Sterling, are you implying I can't lift things?”
“I'm just saying I can help.”
She crossed her arms, but she was fighting a smile. “What if I want to load all the heavy things myself?”
“Then you can wait thirty minutes and show me when I get back.”
“Fine.” She waved me off. “Go take care of Tucker. I'll be here. Not lifting anything heavy. Probably.”
I shook my head, but I couldn't help the smile that was pulling at my lips. “Thirty minutes.”
“I'll be counting.” She said it lightly, but something in her expression made my pulse kick up.
I turned before I could do something stupid like ask what she meant by that.
Tucker and I left the market square, heading down Main Street toward the clinic. The afternoon sun warmed my shoulders, and for once, the weight I usually carried didn't feel quite so heavy.
I replayed the hug in my head for the dozenth time. The way she'd stepped into my arms without hesitation. How she'd held on just a beat longer than necessary. The softyesshe'd whispered.
My chest felt too full.
I'd spent four years in Alder Creek keeping everyone at a professional distance. Easier that way. Safer. But Rosie had bulldozed past every wall I'd built, and instead of feeling trapped, I felt…
Lighter.
Tucker bumped my leg, pulling me back to the present.
“I know.” I scratched behind his ears. “I'm being ridiculous.”
The way she'd looked at me when we pulled apart. How her hand had lingered in mine. The softness in her eyes that made my ribs feel too tight. I'd memorized every detail.
What if I was reading it wrong, though? What if she just?—
No. I needed to believe it meant what I hoped it did.
The clinic came into view, and I noticed Sharon's sedan in the parking lot. My steps slowed. She wasn't supposed to be here today.
I led Tucker around back to the barn, where the other rescue dogs greeted us with a chorus of barks and whines. Tucker settled into his space as I gave him fresh water and refilled his food bowl. He headed directly for his bed, circling twice before lying down on with a contented sigh.
“Rest up, bud.”
His eyes were already closing.
I stood there for a moment, listening to the soft sounds of dogs settling in their kennels. The familiar routine usually grounded me, but today my thoughts kept circling back to Rosie. To the way she'd looked at me. The certainty in her voice when she'd said she'd be waiting.
I locked the barn and headed for the clinic.
Sharon was at the reception desk, squinting at the computer screen. She glanced up when I walked in, and her eyebrows rose.
“Well. Someone's in a good mood.”
“Is that unusual?”
“From you? Absolutely.” She clicked the mouse a few times. “Just needed to reschedule some appointments. It was easier to come in than try to do it from home.”
I moved closer, catching sight of the calendar on screen. Next week was packed solid—farm calls stacked between clinic appointments, barely any breathing room. The weight of it threatened to settle back onto my shoulders, familiar and heavy.
Sharon must have noticed the shift in my expression because she leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. “Don't you dare start spiraling. You took a few hours for yourself. The world didn't end.”
