Shadows of You (Lost & Found #4)(17)

“I’m going to follow you home.”

“What?” The word came out as more of a squeak.

Roan’s expression hardened. “It’s not safe for you to drive an unreliable vehicle home in the dark.”

I bit back an annoyed retort. “It’ll be fine. It never dies while I’m driving. It’s just hard to start sometimes.”

Roan’s gaze drifted to the starry horizon as if he were searching for control. “Just gonna make sure you make it home. Should check on the deer anyway.”

I started to argue, but Cady cut in. “Dory would love to see you, Mr. Grizz.”

Roan’s gaze shot to her, and his expression gentled. “Came up with a name, huh?”

Cady bobbed her head in a nod. “You like it?”

“Fits her.”

Cady grinned as if he’d just paid her the highest compliment.

Roan glanced back at me. “You gonna let me follow you home, or you gonna make me stand out here all night freezing my ass off?”

“That’s a bad word, Mr. Grizz. Words can hurt.”

Roan’s lips twitched. “Sometimes, a situation calls for harsh language.”

I scowled at him. “Let’s go before you teach my girl the F-word.”

Roan simply grunted and headed for his truck.

“What’s the F-word, Mama?”

Great. Just great.





8





ROAN





Aspen’s taillights glowed in front of me, a taunting, aggravating reminder. Her station wagon needed more work than it was probably worth. My back molars ground together at the thought. Based on the state of her barn, I doubted she had the cash for it.

My gut twisted as I thought about her and Cady making their way around town in an unsafe vehicle. And it just pissed me off that I cared. Grae loved them. That was why I gave a damn. It sounded like bullshit, even to my ears.

Aspen’s blinker flashed, and she turned right onto Huckleberry Lane. At least the snow was mostly gone on the road. The rest would melt in the next couple of days. That was good. The wildlife around here wasn’t ready for winter. They still needed time to prepare.

The station wagon pulled to a stop in front of the farmhouse. They needed a garage. There was too much snow in these mountains to get by without one, not to mention they were exposed walking into their house in the dark.

I threw my truck into park and turned off the engine. Sliding out, I drew up short as Cady grabbed my hand.

“Come on! We gotta check on Dory.”

Something foreign shifted in my chest. The little girl had no fear of me. It was a bizarre sensation, that innocent trust. So kind it almost hurt.

Cady tugged harder on my hand. “Come on,” she urged.

My lips twitched. The little thing was strong, too. I had no choice but to follow.

Cady pulled on the barn door, and I helped her open it. The animals were already in for the night, making sounds of greeting. There were too many for me to identify.

I glanced back at Aspen. “How many animals do you have?”

She rolled her lips over her teeth. “I think I’ve lost count at this point.”

I heard pigs, donkeys, ducks, chickens, a pony, and who knew what else. I shook my head.

Aspen shrugged. “Everyone needs a place to belong. Somewhere they feel safe. I like being that for them.”

My gut burned as I stared into those green eyes. But I couldn’t get words to form. It didn’t matter. I never said the right things anyway.

I forced my gaze back to the aisle that Cady led me down.

She bounced on the balls of her feet as we reached the doe’s stall. “We gotta give her the nighttime meds.”

Aspen rounded us and lifted the lid on the tack box, pulling out a treat and a pill bottle. She expertly shoved the medicine into the center of the snack and then looked at her daughter. “Remember, be real quiet and still.”

Cady nodded solemnly. “I will.”

Her words were an adorable whisper, and she still didn’t let go of my hand.

I didn’t remember the last time someone had held my hand. Grae, maybe. When she was in the hospital, recovering from her ordeal last month. I shoved the memory and the fear that had accompanied it down.

Aspen slipped into the stall. The deer was edgy, pawing at the ground. Aspen didn’t encroach on her territory; she simply crouched and held out her hand.

I wasn’t sure if the vet had taught her this tactic or if it was intrinsic. But it worked. Aspen didn’t rush the doe. She just waited as if it weren’t freezing, and she had all the time in the world.

The deer approached slowly. She waited to see if Aspen would make a move, but the woman remained still. The wounds on the doe’s sides looked a bit less red, even with just twenty-four hours of antibiotics. She nabbed the treat from Aspen and gobbled it down.

Aspen rose, keeping her movements steady and unhurried. Then she slipped from the stall. “She seems a little better.”

“Her gashes aren’t as red,” I added.

Cady tugged on my hand. “They’ll heal, right?”

“Won’t be long now,” I assured her.

She beamed and started dragging me down the aisle again. “You gotta meet Chauncey. And Pirate, if she’ll come around.”