Connor muttered, but obliged the puppy with a few hard snatches.
Samson hunched low, growled deeper in his throat, then whipped his head back and forth with fast, hard jerks.
A reluctant laugh escaped Connor.
Olivia gave in to her own amusement. The puppy was hard not to like. “That is one big, bad dog in the making.”
“So he wants us all to think.”
Samson suddenly let go of the leash, looked around and then pounced on Baloo.
Olivia reached down to pry the puppy loose.
Connor bent over, as well. Their hands connected atop Samson’s back. They both froze. Less than a heartbeat later Connor moved his hand and picked up Samson.
He passed the puppy off to Molly.
Holding the animal close, the girl divided a look between her father and Olivia. A speculative glint whispered across her gaze, but disappeared so quickly Olivia thought she might have imagined the whole thing.
She said goodbye to the twins, patted Samson on the head and watched as the entire family turned to go. A final wave in her direction from the twins, and they disappeared back over the hill.
Now that puppy teeth were no longer chomping on his ear, Baloo hopped to his feet with the agility of a dog half his age. Olivia absently scratched her fingernails down his back, earning her a canine sigh.
She sighed, too.
The Mitchells were such a beautiful family, yet she couldn’t help feeling a little sad for them. Cancer had left Connor to raise two young girls on his own. With three older brothers in the medical profession, Olivia knew the long hours he endured.
Not that it was any of her concern.
“Come on, Baloo. Let’s go home.”
On the walk back to the house, one thought kept running through Olivia’s mind. She’d come home just in time, putting her on the right path to finding her true purpose in life. A purpose she hadn’t considered when she’d been working fourteen-hour days.
The possibilities stretching before her were both exciting and terrifying.
It was nearly noon by the time Olivia guided Baloo into the mudroom at the back of their house. At this hour she wouldn’t run into any of her brothers.
Ethan was at the office seeing patients. Ryder was at Village Green Hospital where he shared E.R. duties with two other doctors. And Brody was out of the country working for Doctors Without Borders.
With the house to herself, Olivia could continue working her way through the list of Village Green businesses. She needed to determine if the type of tearoom she had in mind would be redundant or just what the town needed. No thoughts of single dads and or sweet little girls would be allowed in her head. Work, work and more work.
She’d just hung up Baloo’s leash when she heard a deep, masculine voice. “Olivia? That you?”
Her throat tightened. Of course Ethan would come home for lunch today, since he was the one brother she wanted to avoid most. Not that she didn’t adore him; of course she did. But he had a way of asking questions that struck at the heart of a matter. Questions she didn’t have answers for yet. Her emotions were too raw, and her plans too sketchy.
The fact that she hadn’t heard his approach was a bit annoying, but not entirely her fault. Ethan still moved with that creepy stealth he’d learned as an Army Ranger.
She turned and smiled at him. Dressed in navy blue dress pants and a white button-down, he looked very much like the successful doctor he was. As with all her brothers, the stark contrast of his black hair and light blue eyes turned more than a few female heads, including most of Olivia’s friends.
“Hey,” she said, hoping she’d caught him on his way out. “I took Baloo for a walk. I’m assuming that was okay.”
“Sure.” He nodded, smiling. “He needs more exercise than I can give him.”
Now that the pleasantries were over, she grabbed her laptop with the sole intention of heading somewhere else—anywhere else—to continue her fact-finding expedition. “Well, now that I brought him home, I’m heading out again.”
“You just got back.”
“I know, but—” she glanced over his shoulder, her gaze landing on the refrigerator “—we need groceries.”
His eyebrows pulled together. “We have food in the house.”
She rolled her eyes. Ethan was such a man. “Bottled water and cold pizza do not qualify as food.”
He ignored this observation and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Olivia. Come into the den. We’ll talk and—”
“I really should get going.” She shrugged out from under his grip, trying not to think about all she’d lost. The job. The perfect ready-made family that had seemed within her reach.
So she’d been downsized. So she and Warner hadn’t worked out. Maybe her breakup and job loss had come at an opportune time. Maybe even Divine Intervention, God working good out of the bad in her life.
“Stop worrying about me, Ethan. I’m simply between jobs.”
He considered this, considered her. “So you’ve said already.” He lowered his voice to that soothing doctor octave he donned so well. “I know that’s not the truth.”
She opened her mouth to argue.
“Not the full truth, in any case.”
She thought about the tearoom of her dreams, the particulars still fuzzy, yet also thrilling, in her mind. “It’s a long story with a few twists and turns but eventually leading to a happy ending.”
She would make sure of it.
“Tell me more. I have time.” He checked the chunky wristwatch he’d worn ever since his days in the military. “I don’t have to be back at the office for another half hour.”
His tone was so calm, so reasonable, as if she could explain in thirty minutes or less why she didn’t want to take another job in banking. Why she wanted to try something that would require a leap of faith.
“How about I tell you everything tonight when you get home from work?”
“I’m not coming straight home. I have a meeting in Denver.”
“Tomorrow, then.” She patted him on the arm, relieved she would have more time. “I’ll stop by the office and catch you between patients.”
Giving him no chance to respond, she quickly exited the house, shutting the door on whatever response he’d been about to give.
* * *
Thanks to the tiny menace in a fur suit, Connor spent the rest of his day off in the emergency room, where he and the girls waited for news on Samson’s latest victim—their housekeeper, Carlotta.
