Page 24 of Peril in Piney Woods

“Relationships can be difficult sometimes.” Meg was well aware. Her one serious relationship had crumbled under the tension of high-pressure work. Hers and his. Man, that had been so long ago. Another life.

“I guess I didn’t want to see the end coming, but it came anyway, whether I was here or not. Once it was over, I had to ask myself why I was pouring my whole life into something that should only occupy a small portion of it.” He glanced around the room. “I wanted to be here doing something that mattered at least part of my time. One evening, I went out to get my car from the parking garage, and there was a dog. It looked alone and sad, neglected. I gave it a scratch behind the ears and the bag of chips I had in my car.” He stared at his hands a moment. “The next evening it was still there. So I loaded him up and took him to a shelter. That was when my eyes were really opened. There just aren’t enough shelters—worse, there aren’t enough decent humans, in my opinion—to care for the animal population. I decided I had to do something.”

“You could have donated funds for building more shelters. That’s what most people do. Throw a little money at it. Sometimes it’s the best they can do. Sometimes it’s just easier that way because you don’t have to look too closely.”

“I did that too,” he said with a pointed look in her direction. “And I still do. But I had all this land, and since farming wasn’t my thing, I decided to use it for something that mattered. I can’t save the world, but I can do all possible to save the part of it that I live in.”

“Wow.” She had known part of that story, but this, this was the sort of tale real-life heroes were made of. “That’s amazing.”

“I still enjoy the work I do on a professional level at the firm, but most of my time is spent here doing what matters.”

“I’m sure your mom and your sister are very proud of what you’re doing here.” How could they not be? This was amazing.

He chuckled. “Mostly, I think they believe I’m in denial about barreling toward forty with no wife and no kids and nary a prospect.”

Meg wanted to laugh at the idea, but she got the distinct impression that he was serious. “I’m sure your family would love to hear about your casserole queens.”

“I think they’d enjoy hearing about you.”

Their gazes held for a long moment. Every ounce of will power Meg possessed was required not to pursue his motive behind the statement.

Instead, she stood, stretched and yawned. “I’m beat. I hope you don’t mind if I hit the shower and call it a night a little early.”

“Right.” He pushed to his feet. “I’m sure you’re exhausted. Make yourself at home.”

“Thanks.” She backed away a step. “See you in the morning.” She headed for the stairs.

“Night,” he called after her.

“Night,” she said without looking back. She couldn’t trust herself to look back without running right into his arms.

Chapter Seven

Griffin Residence

Sundown Road

Monday, May 6, 7:30 a.m.

Meg flinched. Shook her head.

The cold touched her again.

She jerked awake.

Raymond sat beside the bed, his muzzle resting on the quilt. Even as her gaze focused in on him, he nudged her with his cold nose again.

Meg laughed and swiped at her eyes. “Morning, boy.”

The light filtering in through the window had her frowning. What time was it? She grabbed her cell from the bedside table and sat up. 7:30 a.m.

Her eyebrows reared up. She never slept past 5:30 or 6:00 a.m. Ever.

She threw the covers back and bounced out of bed. “Raymond, why didn’t you get me up sooner?”

He stared up at her with a questioning look as if to ask how he was supposed to have done that.

“You’re right,” she agreed as she dug through her overnight bag for clothes, “I should have set the alarm on my phone.”

---