Читать книгу Heart's Refuge - Cheryl Harper - Страница 12

CHAPTER FOUR

AFTER WEARING HERSELF out making lists of things to fix and people to call, Sarah closed the washing machine door and jammed it shut with the table knife stored on top. A towel was already on the floor to catch any drips, but she nudged it closer before she twisted the knob to start the wash. Doing laundry every day was a drag.

Doing laundry at all was a drag. And getting the beat-up machine in the shelter’s cramped supply closet to work took real engineering. Every day, about this time, she remembered fondly the space-age shiny washer and dryer in her sweet condo.

Oh, well. In her new place, she’d have fancy machines with all the bells and whistles, but this time she’d know how awesome her washer and dryer were.

Someday. This whole experiment in taking care of herself had started as a way to make sure everything seemed normal. One day her dad was there. The next he was gone and the police wanted to know where, when and why.

Playing dumb had been easy enough. All her father had said before he slid into his Cadillac was “Take care of business.”

At the dealership, that had been his way of telling her he was out to lunch and she was in charge.

Mainly, she’d been in charge of telling people when Bobby Hillman would be back.

Now she wished she had a clue.

Every day, her situation got a little more serious. Selling everything she loved, except for the convertible, was about as low as she could go.

Or so she’d thought. Now she was daydreaming about fancy laundry equipment—a sign her life had taken a drastic turn.

She hit Start and stared at the knob when nothing happened. Then she realized the electricity was still out. She’d been squinting at the notepad in her office for so long a wrinkle was forming over the bridge of her nose, and now she’d tried to start the washing machine. In the dark. Like an idiot.

“So many talents I never knew I had. None of them are worthwhile without electricity,” she said with a sigh, and glanced over at Bub. He was patiently carrying around his plastic bowl. He would continue to do so until she’d crossed every single item off the to-do list. “Good idea. Let’s eat.”

Bub, the smartest person in the room, knew exactly what she meant. His wagging tail shook his whole body when she took his bowl and filled it with dry dog food. “Such a good boy you are.” She wasn’t sure he could hear her over his own crunching but surely he got the gist.

Bub’s fortunes had been a roller-coaster ride. First, he’d been abandoned at the town’s landfill, then rescued by some well-meaning types who didn’t know what to do with a puppy. Since he’d been surrendered, he’d bounced from one foster to the latest one who’d brought him back to the shelter, intent on ending her association with Paws for Love due to the unsavory Hillman connection.

Sarah had made Bub her roommate. Temporarily. When the shelter was staffed and reopened to surrenders, Bub would go back into the general population. For now, she was his foster.

Living out of a suitcase and sleeping on the office’s couch.

Poor Bub.

Finally, instead of a rampaging beast intent on carnage, Bub was a normal dog again. He’d reached the point in his meal where he could sit and savor. Sarah pulled down the loaf of white bread and the peanut butter jar to make her thousandth sandwich.

Bub licked his lips slowly.

“Peanut butter would hit the spot, huh?” She shook her head at his mournful expression. “Not today.” The jar had to last her a long time. Sarah reached into the cabinet to grab a treat. “Have one of these instead.”

With her sandwich in one hand, Sarah went back into her office to grab the notepad and then led Bub through the shelter to the play yard.

Shelly was watering the pitiful row of plants along the fence.

“What are you still doing here? I thought you went home.” If she’d known Shelly was still around, she’d have... Sarah wasn’t sure. At the very least, she’d have given up on the budget sooner.

“I wanted to wait until the electricity came back on.” Shelly shut off the hose. “Besides, I like it here.”

As Sarah ate her sandwich, she considered that—preferring to spend time at the shelter instead of home. “How long has it been? Since your divorce?”

“Six months. I’m over it.” Shelly’s lips trembled a little but the smile was nearly convincing.

“One hour.” Sarah set the timer on her phone. “If the lights aren’t on in one hour, I’ll suit back up and head into town. Electricity is nonnegotiable.”

The cash Cece had given her would be enough to buy time.

She shouldn’t have given Will the chance to intercede.

The list of things she had to fix, pay for, hire and manage ruffled in the breeze.

Rest. Just a minute. Close your eyes and rest.

“You’re doing a good job, you know?” At Shelly’s encouragement, Sarah’s eyes snapped open. “Don’t give up on us. Not yet.”

While she fussed with her drooping ponytail, Sarah said, “You run this place single-handedly. If I didn’t come in tomorrow, these animals would be in good hands.”

Shelly waved a hand to brush Sarah’s answer aside. “I mean it. Don’t give up, Sarah. This place needs you. I need you. I did run the shelter by myself for a week or two and it was...overwhelming. I need support, some company.” Shelly rubbed Bub’s ears as he trotted up, obviously satisfied that all the new smells were acceptable. “Actual, live people. Having someone to talk with while I work makes everything easier.”

“Okay. I’ll keep trying.” Sarah wished she was the kind of person who knew the right thing to say. She had plenty of practice with snarky set-downs. Encouragement was out of her comfort zone, but whatever Shelly heard, it was enough.

Somehow, making the promise gave Sarah a tiny boost of energy. Lately, she’d found herself swinging from justified doubts to the crazy certainty that she could handle whatever came up.

But Shelly was here, working with her.

Bub went to stand patiently by the door. He was ready to go back inside apparently.

“He’s so well-trained,” Sarah said. “What is he doing in a shelter?” Sarah sighed as she and Shelly stood.

“It never gets easier to see smart, well-mannered pets staring out through chain link.” Shelly held the door open for Bub. “That’s why we do what we do.”

Being included in Shelly’s “we” felt right. At some point, Paws for Love had changed from a whim to a...cause.

Life wasn’t fair. Not for people, not for pets, but somewhere in the world was the person who deserved Bub and who would give him the love he should’ve had from the beginning. All she had to do was keep the doors open. They’d find each other eventually.

“Late in the day,” Shelly said. “Do you think the electricity is coming back on?”

The thought of a long night in the dark filled Sarah with dread, but she tried for a carefree shrug. Shelly couldn’t change a thing. There was no sense in adding to her worry.

Closing the door on the late-afternoon sun was easy enough, but when Sarah flipped the light switch and nothing happened, she was reminded how dark it could get without electricity. Sunset always made her less brave, more afraid of the future and what it might hold.

Sarah shook her head and forced herself to laugh along with Shelly. “Habit.” She pulled out her phone to check the time just as the whir of the shelter’s systems kicked in. Bright light illuminated curious kitties and ruthlessly clean floors before she moved on to the dog room. Instead of a loud celebration, she got a few curious head raises and then everyone settled back down.

Late afternoon was nap time. The schedule never changed much here.

“Oh, good. Everything can get back to normal. Giving meds in the dark would have been difficult,” Shelly said with a relieved sigh.

If Will Barnes had been standing with them under the bright lights, Sarah would have kissed him.

“Go home. The morning walks will come way too early.” Taking a chance, she hugged Shelly quickly. “We’re making progress. Tomorrow will be another good day.”

She watched Shelly get in her car and waved before she closed and locked the door.

All alone. Again. Sarah walked back to her office and pulled out her phone to check for missed calls. She dialed her father’s number, fingers crossed that this time he’d answer, and listened to the rings. When his voice mail picked up, she said, “Hi, Dad. I wanted to...check on you. I’m worried. Please call me.”

That’s all you can do. Immediately, images of her father hurt or worse flashed across her mind. Just stop. There’s no reason to think the worst.

Her peanut butter sandwich turned into a lump in her stomach.

Work was still the best distraction. Sarah grabbed the phone book. “Bids. The first step is finding out what a new roof and fence cost. Easy enough.” The yellow pages fell open to the page she’d turned to most often. “All for Animals.” The overcrowded Austin shelter would be her animals’ only hope if she walked away.

When she was stretched out on a beach somewhere, would it bother her that she’d let them down?

Her stomach lurched.

Bub gave a happy sigh. Somehow, he was stretched out the full length of the couch, all four feet in the air. Her response, a weird mishmash of amusement and concern, answered her question.

Paws for Love was hers. Leaving it without funding would haunt her. If she could turn the shelter around, she’d have something of her own to be proud of.

No one could say this had been given to her.

And when Holly Heights was nothing more than dust on her tires, she could enjoy the freedom.

“Sure wish I’d chosen business school, Bub.” She shifted in the broken-down office chair and studied the mess on her desk. At some point, she was going to have to get organized.

Since that would let her put off the hard work of identifying how much she didn’t know, Sarah started rearranging the stacks of overdue bills. “Food. Gotta pay for that first.” Or should she give the vets a portion of the cash? Sort of a good-faith gesture that she wasn’t going to leave them holding the bag.

She was adding up the costs of the most recent vet visits and cursing her lack of a computer when she remembered the bids she’d planned to gather first.

Her brain had always worked this way. In circles.

“Slow and steady, Sarah. Do one thing at a time.” She picked up her cell phone, hoping the calculator could help, when the shelter’s phone rang.

Had her father tracked her here? Was he calling the shelter to avoid the police?

“Paws for Love. This is Sarah.” Too late, she remembered her plan to avoid answering the phone. Nice bill collectors would hesitate to leave a message. And the rest? Well, they’d definitely leave a message, but she certainly didn’t want to talk to them.

Fingers crossed, she added, “How can I help you?”

“It’s Will. Are your lights back on?”

Sarah pressed cold fingers to her cheek, grateful that Will Barnes couldn’t see the flush that instantly covered her face. She was amazed at this ability to blush when she never had before. Her high school behavior, ambushing kids like Will and his sister, Jen, who hadn’t done much to deserve negative attention, hadn’t embarrassed her a bit. Now she was a little uncomfortable with the memories. “Uh, hi. Yes, we have lights. What did you do?”

He cleared his throat. “Made a call. You’ll have a month or so to make another payment. By then, you’ll have a better plan in place and some funds to set things right.”

Unable to answer at first, Sarah stared at the stack of bills on her desk. “If I can come up with the right information for a certain meeting, I definitely will.”

She tried a smile as she answered, but something about the fake, flirty tone made her feel worse than knowing she hadn’t been able to accomplish this on her own. “Sorry. What I meant to say is I appreciate you getting me more time. And I am hopeful that Paws for Love is on the right track.”

Neither of them said anything for a minute.

For good measure, she added, “Thank you.” Why did it sound as if she was choking on her own tongue? “How’s Chloe?”

“Sunburned. Eating her third piece of pepperoni pizza. Seems to be happy for the first time since she came for the summer.” Will cleared his throat. “But you were asking about her arm. The bandage is gone. I think the trauma is, too.”

“Trauma? I’m so sorry, Will.”

“Maybe that was just me.” Will sighed. “At some point, the accident became my fault because she’s never been allowed to have a pet. So she doesn’t know how to handle them.”

“Wow. This visit has not been easy, has it?” Sarah propped her elbow on the desk. As a teen, Sarah’s mood swings had been epic. Her dad had learned to toss the checkbook into her bedroom and slam the door closed again.

Will was actually spending time with Chloe. He must be brave.

“It really hasn’t. But I’m willing to agree with part of her argument.”

“Does that mean you want to adopt a cat?” Sarah asked, the corners of her mouth twitching.

Will grunted. “Not if I can help it. And if I catch you planting the suggestion, I’ll have to devise a devious form of payback for you and Chloe both, something involving a mall but not me.” But he wouldn’t sabotage her shot at funding. Because Will Barnes was a good man, with integrity.

She tried to imagine him bailing on Chloe, even for her own good, and the picture wouldn’t form. Maybe he had trouble in small, day-to-day things, but Chloe could count on him for the big stuff.

Once, Sarah would have said the same thing about her own father.

“Your threat lacks some sting.” Sarah would dance through the racks at Neiman Marcus given a chance and a credit card. “Malls are wonderful.”

“The last time Chloe and I shopped for jeans, I was pretty sure someone had replaced my baby girl with an evil imposter. One who cried. A lot.” Will’s gruff voice suggested he could have handled almost anything but that.

“That’s your problem. Many women cry when they try on jeans.”

His chuckle made her grin so hard her cheeks hurt. And the blush filled her cheeks again.

Why was she enjoying this conversation so much? She’d flirted with doctors and lawyers and men with yachts. Talking with Will about his daughter filled her with a warm glow of comfort. Laughing with him convinced her life was about to get easier.

“I know you want to get the adoptions going again. Just don’t count on Chloe and Jelly to start it off,” Will said.

“This time next month, things will be different. I know it.” She straightened in her chair. “And it’ll be thanks to you, Will.”

She jotted a note to add a thank-you card to the shopping list. Squinting at the note made her realize that he wouldn’t be able to read her handwriting anyway, so she almost crossed it out again.

“So, I’ll be ready on Monday. How about early? Eight?” Sarah bit her lip. She hoped she could be ready by then.

“Uh, sure.”

“Is that a problem? Do you have clients scheduled?” Sarah traced the number eight over and over at the top of her pad. She’d have to get a predawn start so that Shelly didn’t have to feed and water all the animals by herself.

Predawn start? What kind of crazy talk is that? Feeding and watering the animals is Shelly’s job.

“I didn’t picture you as the early-bird type,” Will said. His voice had lost some of its warmth.

“Oh, I’m not. Never have been.” Sarah sighed. Living in the shelter’s office meant fewer hair products and cosmetics. An unlikely silver lining. “But I can make it if you can.”

“I’ll see you at eight, then.”

Before he could hang up, she blurted, “Will, without your help, I’m not sure... Well, you’ll get as many tail wags as you like here at Paws for Love. Free dog hair for life, okay?”

Then she wrinkled her brow. Stupid. You’re trying to convince him you’ve got a solid businesswoman inside. That sounded like you routinely put a heart over every i.

But his quiet laugh eased some of the disappointment that was making her shoulders droop. “Good to know. A little dog hair now and then is exactly what I need.”

Sarah hung up the phone and stared over at Bub, who was blinking at her from his perch on the couch. “Don’t get up. I’ve got this taken care of.”

He licked his lips and then shoved his nose back under his tail.

“Some assistant you are. Better watch out. I’ll replace you as soon as I have the chance.” Although spending time with a real, live human who answered her would take some getting used to.

“All right. New list. Estimates I Need. Fence, roof, signage, flooring, paint...” Everything about the place needed an overhaul. Four months ago, she’d had visions of a new, fancy, streamlined lobby with interactive videos and digital boards that would be updated as dogs and cats came and went. Now she wanted electricity.

“Just the first round, Sarah. Focus. There’ll be plenty of time for dreaming big later.”

The cash register sound signifying a text snagged her attention. She fumbled the phone before gripping it tightly enough to make the plastic creak.

Take care of business.

The number was unfamiliar. But her father’s favorite exit line—the one he’d always delivered on his way out the door of Hillman Luxury Autos—was so familiar.

He was okay. Somewhere, her father was able to text.

From a number she didn’t recognize.

Where are you?

Sarah chewed her fingernail while she waited. Ten minutes of glaring at her phone was enough to give her a headache.

“Business. Take care of business.” Sarah carefully set the phone down and turned back to the mess on her desk. That text was enough to keep her going for a few more days. She could count on her father to fix everything. All she had to do was hold on a little bit longer.