Page 42 of The Love Shack

“I’m sorry, Hero. Didn’t mean to worry you.”

Her soft tone did the trick, sending his whip tail swinging wildly. “C’mon. Let’s get going.” She let him out to his enclosed area first thing, thankful that she didn’t smell any rain in the air. She was exhausted through and through, so it was no wonder that it took her a few minutes to get clearheaded enough to realize she didn’t feel great.

This was not going to be a typical Monday morning.

Every muscle ached and her head hurt. Her eyes burned. Her throat felt scratchy.

Didn’t matter. Her job was the type that didn’t allow for unplanned breaks. Whether she was sick or not, those animals depended on her, so ten minutes later she had her tangled hair tied up, her face washed and her teeth brushed. She grabbed a cup of coffee, hurriedly drank it while leaning against the sink and watched the dawn lighten the dark sky. She couldn’t stop yawning.

It wasn’t just the surfeit of work and a possible cold that made her tired, though. Ever since their shared dinner, her nights had been restless with thoughts of Lawson. How nice his no-pressure company had been. He’d been considerate without coming on to her, concerned without showing pity. And he’d seemed to enjoy it as much as she had.

But that was a few evenings ago and she really wouldn’t have minded alittleinterest from him. He could stop in and say hi. Or something.

Blah. She annoyed herself with her endless speculation. If she wanted his company, she could stop by—but she didn’t. She could call him after work and ask him if he’d like to share another meal.

She wouldn’t.

Instead, she rinsed her cup, jammed a hat on her head, stuffed a few tissues into her pocket, and trudged out to greet her adoring fan club of dogs and cats. As she allowed them out into their private grassy areas, she once again gave heartfelt thanks to Betty and the town council, as well as every person residing in Cemetery, for the generous accommodations supplied to the animals. For a small town, they’d really pulled together to set up a fantastic shelter. Right now, they had plenty of room, but she knew that would eventually change. There’d be times when they were so crowded, they’d need help fostering pets.

But for now, even while feeling crappy, she enjoyed the extra care she could give each animal. Hero joined her out in the yard, though she kept him contained on a long lead. That was another perk of her job. She didn’t need to leave her pets.

At eight o’clock, Whitley showed up and greeted her with the explanation “You looked tuckered out yesterday, so I thought I’d get here earlier today and give you a hand.”

Leaning on the broom handle, Berkley said, “You’re a welcome sight. Thank you. I was just about to feed the hungry hoard, so—”

“I’ll do it.” Whitley gave her a long look. “Maybe you should take a break.”

“I’m fine.” Or she would be, as soon as she found her pep. She’d lost it somewhere, and her sneakers seemed to be made of lead.

Unconvinced, Whitley said, “Okay, but don’t overdo it. This place couldn’t run without you. You’re the heart here, you know.”

What a wonderful way to put it. “Thanks. Maybe I’ll go grab a protein bar, but I won’t be long.”

Saying it was easier than doing it. For some reason, even the bland snack made her stomach flinch. After consuming half the bar, she opted for another cup of coffee, again standing at the sink. If she sat down, she wasn’t sure she’d get back up. In fact... She forced herself to get moving.

Two hours later, she was just about finished with her morning chores when her phone vibrated with an incoming call. Pulling it from her pocket, she checked the screen and automatically smiled when she saw it was Betty.

It was as good of an excuse to sit down as any, so as she answered, she went to a bench and dropped—literally dropped—onto it. “Good morning.”

“Morning, sunshine,” Betty said. “I’m coming out to see you. Do you need anything?”

Confused, Berkley checked the time. “It’s only ten.”

“So? You’ve been up and working for five hours now.”

True. She and Betty talked often enough that Betty knew her schedule. “You don’t usually make it here until noon or later.” New worry bloomed, despite the reassurances Lawson had given her. “Are you okay?”

Betty made a sound of frustration. “Are you calling me old, Berkley?”

“Well...no. But...” Shewasold. “I, um...”

“You think I sleep my days away?”

“Of course not!” Few people got as much accomplished as the town matriarch. “No one would call you a slug, Betty, so stop trying to pick an argument with me.”

Betty laughed. “Oh, I do enjoy how you stand up to me. I’m leaving now, so no more arguments. How about I bring some Danish?”

Her stomach couldn’t decide if that sounded good or revolting, so she said, “Sure, but nothing too heavy for me.”

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