my years of service come in handy sometimes.” She smiled at the ceiling. “Got an in with the big guy.”
“More like good karma,” Brett spoke up, lifting his red, wooden-bead necklace and shaking it before wiping down a table.
“You’ve got a nice place here.” Officer Walsh scanned the room, the lights picking up auburn strands in his dark hair.
“We think so. This is my partner, Maggie Wilson.”
Maggie smiled, a winsome turn of her lips that pulled in more customers than the raisin pie. “Hello. I’ve heard so much about you.”
Officer Walsh’s gaze slid to Vivie. “I’m sure. Can we have a word, Vivie? In private.”
“Not interested.”
Maggie laced her fingers in Vivie’s and squeezed. “Hear him out,” her friend whispered in her ear. “He’s seems sincere.”
“Not interested,” Vivie repeated under her breath.
“You never are. That’s the problem.” Her partner sighed, then gave her a little shove. “We can manage these out-of-control customers, can’t we Rowdy?”
A grunt sounded from the kitchen as he passed a slice of pie with ice cream through the open window. Maggie grabbed it and turned to Vivie, her eyes a warm gold. “Go outside. We’ll hold down the fort.”
“You have my blessing.” The nun made some kind of motion in the air with her fork, then tucked back into her pie.
Vivie glanced between her so-called friends—the traitors—and grabbed her purse. After hearing the officer out, she’d want to go home. Deal with it. Officer Walsh hurried to the door and held it open when she reached it.
Outside, in the soft, spring night, it was hard to observe this handsome man and imagine his horrible deed. His hands might be clean, but there was blood on them. Crickets sang a funeral dirge in the nearby bushes, and the rushing flap of bat wings swirled the air into a living thing.
“Look. I don’t mean to be rude, but I don’t want to see you right now.” She glowered up at him, wishing he’d leave.
His eyes delved into hers. “Vivie, the bear’s—”
“Please leave. I don’t need the details.”
When she turned, clouds drifted away from the full moon, turning the world into a black-and-white movie. Officer Walsh—Liam—leaned against his SUV, his hat sitting low on his forehead, his face looking as tired as she felt. Maybe he wasn’t enjoying this. Was just doing his job.
Despite everything, she softened toward him. “Fine. If this is some job requirement, a mandatory update to the original caller, then let’s get this over with. What happened?”
She wished she could put her fingers in her ears, block out the words about to be spoken.
“The cub’s at the Adirondack Wildlife Rehabilitation Center. My friends, Steve and Wendy Reed, agreed to take her for the week.”
Surprise forked through her, as electric as lightning. “I don’t understand. You didn’t kill her?”
His lips quirked upward but his eyes remained sober. “No. I considered what you said. We’re going to save her. If you’re still in.”
He held out a hand and she slipped hers into it, heat flooding up her arm. Unbelievable. Elation filled her. The bear was hers. Whatever Officer Walsh had said about releasing her, or finding her another home someday, didn’t matter. For now, the cub was coming home. To her home.
“I’m in, Officer Walsh.” She turned on her heel and hurried away. After a few steps she stopped and whirled. “And thank you. Thank you so much. This means...” she struggled for a moment “...a lot.”
His smile reached all the way to his eyes. “We might both regret it.”
“Never!”
“Where are you going?” he called when she reached her pickup. “I was hoping we could talk more over pie.”
“Call me tomorrow. In the meantime, Maggie will fix you up.” She inserted her key and opened the door. Those two would hit it off. As for her, she had more important priorities than socializing, especially with a DEC officer. He might have spared the bear, but that didn’t mean they had the same outlook when it came to caring for wildlife. Not even close.
She hopped in her truck then leaned out her open window, catching her own grin in the side mirror.
“I’ve got a test to ace.”
LIAM MOPPED HIS dripping brow and leaned on the two-by-four he’d just nailed into place. He glanced around Vivie’s transformed backyard. Soon the excavated site would hold the cub’s pen. He’d poured the concrete forms yesterday—the resulting foundation walls were set a foot deep in the ground. He’d secure the nine-gauge chain-link fencing to them, and that, combined with the electrified overhang, would keep the little one secure.
But how to protect Vivie? She’d been hovering like a gnat these past couple of days. Was he sure forty feet was enough room? Was the waterfall flowing into a shallow pool a safe water supply? Did he need to cover the chain link with plywood, keeping the bear from seeing humans?
Yes to all three—especially the last one.
He hefted another piece of lumber, positioned it and began hammering. Despite the nonstop studying, which had put shadows beneath her eyes, Vivie still didn’t grasp that the cub’s time here was temporary. Once it could fend for itself, assuming its jaw healed, they’d release it to the forest. A return to the wild home it deserved. But he knew Vivie’s attachment would grow once she cared for the bear and she’d end up with a broken heart.
He swore when the hammer smashed his thumb instead of the wood. Rubbing his throbbing digit, he glanced around the area. Above him, a maple tree in the center of the enclosure rustled softly in the breeze. He’d left it uncut, save for the branches approaching the overhang. The bear would enjoy climbing on it and swinging from the tire he’d hung from lower branches. The rest of the toys, including a rubber turtle that squeaked whenever he stepped on it, he wasn’t so sure about. But like some obsessed mother-to-be, Vivie returned from work each day with new goodies to toss into the pen. She’d even had a handmade sign crafted, the name Button burned into its wood. It hung over the snug wood-sided shelter he’d built to protect the young animal from the elements.
“Looking good, Liam,” a familiar voice called. He turned, ignoring the leap of his pulse at the beauty approaching him. Vivie. Her toffee-colored hair swung in a high ponytail, exposing a long, graceful neck. A backpack hung from one golden shoulder.
“Thanks. How are things at The Homestead?”
“Slow.” Vivie perched on the concrete and held up a cardboard container. “Thought you might like some lunch.”
He scanned the blue sky, seeing the midday sun glaring on his neck. “Hadn’t realized it was that time. I appreciate it.”
Once
