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“I didn’t know what you’d want—a hamburger or a cheeseburger, so I made you both.”
“And I’ll take both!” Carly was salivating as she stared at the plate of juicy burgers. She wasn’t alone. Sam sat beside her, looking up at the plate with an expression of agonized longing. Carly nudged his dog food bowl with her foot, and he glanced down with a doleful expression.
“There’s mustard, ketchup, and a surprisingly large array of relish and pickles in the door of the fridge.”
Carly opened the refrigerator door and wrinkled her nose. It needed to be cleaned out because some of the food had gone bad. She got the ketchup and mustard out of the pocket in the door. “What do you want?”
“Grab the bottle of hot sauce on the top.”
“Hot sauce? On your burger?”
“Nope. For the fries.”
“That’s a sacrilege. Only ketchup or vinegar are appropriate for fries.”
“You’re in Canada, pumpkin. You need to add mayo to that list.”
“God, that sounds so gross.”
“It’s not bad, actually.”
“I think I’ll stick to ketchup.”
Justin piled fries on her plate and two of the burgers. Carly wanted to dig in right then and there, but she followed him to the little dining area and sat down at the table like a civilized person. She politely draped a napkin across her lap and then dove in.
Justin had to hide a smile at her enthusiasm. He hoped the burgers and fries might help convince Carly to stay until her back and upper arm were healed. Sam lay at his feet, watching the table with avid interest. When both of them declared themselves full—stuffed, actually, Justin picked up one of the burgers and offered it to Sam. Both of them expected him to gobble it down, but he carried it to the kitchen and laid it on the floor before lying down and holding it on its edge with his paws. He ate it in small bites, chewing enthusiastically.
“That is one strange wolf,” Justin said. “Listen, Carly, I was hoping to stay a couple more days here. I managed to contact one of my friends and—”
Carly sat up in her seat and clutched at the table’s edge. “How?”
“The telephone works.”
Carly bolted out of her chair and ran so fast she slipped and almost fell when her socks skidded on the linoleum. She yanked the phone off of its cradle and punched in a number.
“Who are you calling?”
“My dad.”
A frisson of alarm zipped up Justin’s spine. “Carly...”
“His voice mail,” Carly said. “I just want to hear his voice one more time.”
She closed her eyes as she listened. She punched the number two to hear it again. Afterward, she gently replaced the phone in its cradle and leaned against the wall, just as Justin had after his conversation with Carter.
Justin got to his feet to offer her what comfort he could, but she straightened, picked up the phone again, and began to dial numbers, one after the other, listening to the phone ring, or getting the beep-beep-beep of a disconnected line. Tears streamed unheeded down her cheeks.
Justin laid a hand on her shoulder. “Who are you calling now?”
“My ex-boyfriend, Noah.”
Why did that bother him? “Are you... Do you still have feelings for him?”
Carly shook her head. “Not like that. We stayed friends afterward, sort of. We just weren’t suited to each other.” She placed the phone back in its cradle. “That’s the last number I know.”
Her caramel-colored curls hid her face as she looked down at the floor, at the toes of her striped socks. “You’re lucky to have spoken to one of your friends. I would love that. Just to know they’re still out there somewhere.”
“They could be. Maybe they’re traveling like us, unable to answer their phones.”
