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13
HOPE
I expected Logan’s confused expression when he walked into the waiting area of his veterinary clinic and found me sitting between a cocker spaniel in a cone of shame and a boxer with an injured paw. I did not expect him to answer my question about bird injuries by escorting me through the private door connecting his clinic to Mrs.Lemmings’s pet shop.
“You really could have just told me what I needed,” I say, as Mrs.Lemmings gives us a narrow-eyed once-over. Two decades ago someone released all the rabbits from her store, and she’s watched every customer with hawkish suspicion ever since.
Even me, despite her sobbing on my shoulder at Brandon’s funeral and promising to be there for me.
“I needed more details about the bird’s injuries.” Logan salutes Mrs.Lemmings and breezes past her to the bird supplies. “And I wanted to catch up with you in private. You’ve been ... off ... since the wedding. Tanya and I have barely seen you.”
Because you’ve only been married ten days and I’ve been giving you and your new wife privacy,I think. Although making myself scarce is going to get much harder soon—Lydia’s threatened to have me transferred to labor and delivery if I pick up one more extra shift. As much as I love Logan and Tanya, I’m not willing to risk a run-in with Brandon’s pregnant cousin ... or her mother.
“I’m fine. You shouldn’t keep that poor boxer waiting.”
Logan shrugs. “Hope, I’m the only vet in town. They’ll wait because they have no other choice.”
“Logan Gold! When did your head get so big?”
He laughs. “I’m joking. They’re here for follow-up. My nurses are taking their vitals, and I’ll be right back. Besides, looking out for you is as important a job as anything.”
His protective streak is only slightly less annoying than Tessa’s. “Does that mean a cone of shame is in my future too?”
“It’s not out of the question.” He plucks two emergency-bird-care kits off the shelf and studies the contents of each. He hands me the bigger of the two and returns the other to the shelf. “I can bring this to Maeve to save you the trip out there. Better yet, Maeve can bring the bird to the clinic, and we’ll care for it here.”
“She said she knows what she’s doing ...”
“Do you know what you’re doing?” His expression softens, and for a heartbeat time folds in on itself and it’s Brandon standing in front of me, waiting for an answer to a question with no good answers. “I liked her when I met her too. Doesn’t mean I trust her.”
Logan’s phone buzzes. “Oh, I should take this,” he says, bringing the phone to his ear and turning his back to me. Giving me space to breathe.
Do I know what I’m doing?
No.
But I know what I heard last night was real. Maeve knew so much about Ashley and Chloe. A Google search wouldn’t reveal that much. No one who saw what I saw could believe anything other than the truth that Maeve can do incredible, magical, impossible things.
She gave Ashley her sister back—the chance to say what had been left unsaid.
That’s all I’ve wanted. A chance to speak to Brandon, to tell him I’m sorry for what I said. To explain.
Maybe it’s crazy to believe Maeve. Maybe it’s crazier not to take a chance.
My phone pings.
Still can’t get the smell of smoke out of my hair. I’m getting dirty looks from the kitchen staff. Any advice?
Will’s text startles a smile onto my face. The answer is no. I have no advice because I rushed out of the house this morning and I’m sporting a smoke-scented ponytail. That’s a little too pathetic to admit, though.
I type#letmegooglethatforyouand press send.
His response comes a heartbeat later:Harsh, real harsh.
And then:I thought we decided we were taking care of each other from now on.
My heart goes through a hop-skip-and-jump routine. That’s exactly what we decided after our ill-fated hike had turned into hours on the phone, despite the weight of exhaustion pulling me into sleep.
The extended phone call had been Will’s doing initially. He wanted to make sure I got home okay after I almost fell asleep in the Uber on the way back to our cars.
