Morning comes painfully. But Sentinel is showing promise. He’s lifting his head, perking his ears at me when I talk, and he’s sniffing in Jax’s direction while still doing his best to ignore him. After I take Jax for a walk, I come back to a standing – though trembling – Sentinel whining at the back door.

So I let him out. The back is enclosed. He can’t escape. I’ll just make sure to keep a close eye on him so I can be sure he’s not running or getting rough. But he’s not into all that jazz. Nope, he quickly relieves himself then sits right outside the mother in law apartment.

Inside, I see nothing.

But I can see him from the kitchen window, so I go inside to make some breakfast. I’m not feeling the ritual of eating, so I decide on smoothies. I got some beautiful strawberries yesterday, some bananas, and I’ve got chia seeds for protein and omegas. Plus a few other odds and ends, I’ve got a good thing going.

I make an extra, certain my housemate will be hungry this morning too. Out the window, I see Sentinel just sitting, waiting for his owner to notice him. It’s sad, really, but I know she’ll either see him or I’ll wrangle him back in to bed soon.

And, as if hearing my thoughts, she slides open the door and falls to her knees before her stoic dog. Then he licks her face and I know she’s crying. She throws her arms around his shoulders and her pretty brown eyes meet mine. I lift my drink in a silent toast to her and she gives me a little nod before squeezing her eyes closed and clutching her dog like he’s the only thing in the world she cares about.

I hear Jax saunter in and look down at him. He’s staring up at me, ears perked. “Don’t even think about it,” I tell him and he tilts his head at me. “I’m not cuddling you like that.”

I look again at Victoria. Her hair is wet and she’s dressed again in her tight black leggings and the pretty maroon sweater she’d been wearing the day before. Fuck. I should have offered to go get her truck last night. It totally slipped my mind that she might need some of the stuff in it.

As she rises to her feet, I feel an odd stutter in my chest. She lifts her chin and the sun paints her face in golden beauty and lights her hair up like liquid gold. Her gaze meets mine again, and I’m struck at how Sentinel circles behind her legs and walks beside her, his gate totally normal as he keeps her pace without touching her, but close enough she could grip him if she needed.

And it dawns on me that whatever happened yesterday that made him run, he had a reason. He’s not an unruly animal. He’s obviously well behaved. Something else must have been happening. She slides the door open and I hear the command in her voice as she talks to him.

“Bed, now.”

She walks around the counter and I offer her the smoothie. I watch her face as she sips it through the thick straw I’d found for her. She seems unsure at first, until the drink hits her tongue.

“This is really good,” she says, seemingly shocked as she peers into the cup like I’d done some clever bait and switch on her. “Not too sweet, not to sour. Yum.” She smiles and the whole world lights up with the expression.

“Want to go get your truck?” I ask, and she seems shocked.

“Yeah, if you don’t mind.” She continues drinking her smoothie.

I pick up my keys. “Whenever you’re ready. I’d like to keep Sentinel for a while longer if that’s okay with you,” I pause, but she doesn’t seem upset by my words. “He seems like he’s doing really good, but I’d hate for him to over extend and pop his stitches. Plus, I’ve got antibiotics to keep him on so he doesn’t get an infection from that gash.”

She nods, studying me even as she continues plowing through her breakfast.

I almost feel bad. She’s obviously hungry. And there’s nothing in the mother in law. “I have a bit of work to do today. I got a call first thing about a horse, I need to go shopping, you know the drill.”

She nods, her expression shifting. And she finally takes a break from her smoothie. “Can I come with?” she asks.

Surprise fills my being. “For what?” I ask, wondering what I missed.

She arches an eyebrow at me as if she’s thinking I’m playing stupid with her. “To the horse.”

Oh. Oh! Of course. She’s a woman. Women like horses, right? “Sure,” I say, not seeing any harm coming of it. It’s a routine thing; I stop over and check in on the animals for several farms on the outskirts of the city.

But the Parkers haven’t scheduled, so I need to go drop in and see how things are going.

She finishes her drink and sets the glass on the counter with a look of triumph. “Done. Ready to go.” Then she halts, her eyes focused on something I can’t quite see. Her whole attitude changes and I see it happen in real time. “I’m sorry,” she says, her voice halting and haunted. “I’ll wash it,” She says, taking her cup to the sink.

Thinking quickly, I grab her shoulders, whisk the cup out of her hands and focus on her eyes. “Come back to me, Victoria,” I say gently, holding her with care and trying to keep a kind, positive note to my voice.

Suddenly, her attentions snaps back and it’s like someone flicked on a light switch. I know she’s seeing me. But there are tears gathering quickly and I pull her into a hug, my heart aching for this damaged, sweet girl.