Page 54 of Falling for Gage


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Her. I’d heard a lot of things about Easton Torres, whispered tales that suggested he was a ladies’ man, but I was learning that whether or not the rumors of his exploits were accurate, what was true, was that he was kind. “Thanks, Easton. I mean it.”

He gave me a nod. “No problem.” He looked at Rory. “Are those dogs yours?” He pointed backward to where the dogs were sleeping under the tree, obviously completely unbothered by their role in recent deadly events.

“Yes,” Rory said. “Well, I mean, no, but I was walking them. I’ve got to get them home to their owners.”

“How about I drive you after the…pick-up occurs?” Easton said, glancing down at the dead raccoon. “I have a truck parked just over there,” he gestured up the street.

“Is that okay with you?” I asked Rory.

“Yes, I’d like to stay until someone picks up…her body.” She took in another shaky inhale of air. “What will you do with them?”

“I’ll call you after I know it’s a yes,” I said. “Trust me?”

Her eyes met mine, the blue so crystal clear, they looked like water. “Yes. Yes I trust you.”

I watched the tiny raccoons who were wedged between two bright orange kittens, as they nursed greedily on the three-legged gray cat. “You owe me, Buchanan,” Travis said between clenched teeth as he watched the animals with some amount of outrage on his face.

I stared at him. I’d appreciated his willingness—begrudging though it’d been—to give this situation a try rather than allow the newborn raccoons to die, but how exactly was it putting him out? I glanced back down to the nursing cat. “I wouldn’t even have any idea how to repay this.”

“I’ll think of something.”

“It’s the cat doing the work,” I pointed out.

“My cat,” he corrected. Then Travis scowled at me before turning and marching off. I watched him as he joined Haven by one of the apple trees where she’d been picking up discarded fruit and dropping it in a bucket. Travis wrapped one arm around her and brought the other to her barely rounded stomach before leaning down slightly and saying something to it. They giggled together, and she glanced around as if making sure none of the lingering customers were watching. I stepped back so she wouldn’t catch sight of me accidentally spying, and looked back down to the animals, rolling my eyes at Travis and Haven’s obvious display of affection. I hadn’t noticed before because she usually wore loose-fitting clothing, but clearly she was expecting again. Jesus. How old was their other kid? Nine months old or something?

As if in agreement, Clawdia meowed and then leaned forward and began cleaning her two newly adopted children. I reached out and scratched her head, a burst of relief filling my lungs. “Thanks, girl,” I said to the cat. Without her acceptance, I wouldn’t have been able to fulfill my promise to Rory. I didn’t let myself think about why in the hell it had seemed like life or death to do so.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Rory

The sun was just setting when I stepped from my car, taking a moment to drink in the way the sky’s kiss transformed the water into molten gold. I took in a deep pull of the fruit- and flower-scented air, closing my eyes as a sense of peace fell over me, despite that I was still carrying the sadness of what had happened earlier and a general frustration about the state of my search—especially considering that my time here was dwindling.

Not to mention that before the screeching of brakes and the racoon and the CPR, I’d seen Gage kissing a woman goodbye on the sidewalk in front of the tennis club. The interaction had appeared more than friendly. With a sigh, I started to walk toward the barn where Gage had told me to meet him. The last time I’d been to Haven’s Gate, it’d been bustling with activity and customers, but now it was obviously closed, the only vehicle in the parking lot Gage’s rental car.

“Hello?” I called when I stepped inside the interior of the red barn. There was a counter with a cash register on the left, and tiers of what looked like potted indoor plants behind it, that stretched along the back wall as well. Muted light streamed in through the high windows, casting the room in a hazy glow.

There were potted trees in here, as well as leafy shade plants that I didn’t know the names for. I stood there, looking around, and just like I’d felt the love in my father’s paintings, I somehow felt the love here as well. Everything was beautifully maintained and obviously well cared for, and though I didn’t know a thing about gardening, it was very clear that Haven Hale loved what she did.

What would it feel like to live a life like that? I didn’t even know what my passion was, well, other than dogs. But loving dogs wasn’t exactly a profitable business idea. Or at least, I didn’t see vet school in my immediate future, not only because there was no vet school in Mud Gulch, but because I’d always been crappy at math and science.

To the right there was a doorway that looked as if it led to another small room—an office perhaps. Gage had called me here, but where was he?

“Hey, Rory.”

I spun around, bringing my hand to my heart. Gage stood in the doorway behind me, a smile gracing his lips. For a moment I simply stood there, watching him, feeling somehow disconnected from the here and now. Maybe it was that I’d been daydreaming a moment before. Maybe it was the light, or the way he was smiling at me, or the way my heart had quickened when I heard him call my name. “Hey,” I let my breath out and laughed. “You surprised me.”

He took a few steps in and stopped, opening his mouth as though to respond to what I said, but then shutting it again. He gave his head a small shake and took another step forward. “I have something to show you that I think you’ll like.”

I squinted, as I walked toward him. “My uncles warned me about lines like that.”

He laughed as he took my hand in his and led me from the barn. “As they should have. In this case though, you’re probably safe.” He winked at me and champagne bubbles fizzled between my ribs.

I shot him a grin, gripping his hand back and then practically jogging to keep up with him as he pulled me along. “Wait until you see,” he said. “In here.”

He brought me inside what must have been a tack room once at the back of the barn. If there had been a door that led straight from the barn at one point, it’d since been covered. Instead of animal equipment, however, there were built-in potting tables that held all manner of plants from seedlings to greenery trailing halfway to the floor. There were bags of potting soil sitting here and there, and on the back wall was a…cat tree? Gage shot me another smile as he led me to it. It looked homemade, and fit perfectly in the space, with several ledges, the first of which—interestingly—was quite close to the floor.

When he’d called and asked me to meet him here, I figured it had to do with the baby raccoons because, what else? I thought he’d found a friend with an incubator, who maybe knew what milk to feed the babies from an eyedropper. I wondered if he’d brought them here because the Hales had room in which to house a cage with orphaned babies inside. But when Gage let go of my hand and I stepped up to the cat tree and went up on my tiptoes to peer into the box on one of the higher ledges, I pulled in a shocked breath.

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