Page 1 of Pulled Away

Chapter one

Aspen

Blowing out a deep breath, I arch my spine and take a mental inventory of all my aches and pains. A fiery ball of pain lodged in my back—sounds about right. Throbbing knees that would, under normal circumstances, call for arthritis medication—check. Fingers that would happily stay curled into claws—absolutely freaking check.

Scrubbing years’ worth of dirt off of wired cage doors is backbreaking work. But at least I made progress, and despite being so tired, I’m beaming. Underneath all the dirt and grime, the cages are in a much better condition than I first thought. Small mercies, right? Scrubbing rows and rows of cages as opposed to having to fork out a fortune for new ones.

Once I’m done, I lock the door behind me, my muscles quivering as I drag my feet to the main building. My feet might be dragging, but my lips are smiling. This still feels surreal. The list of things to do is endless, but every time I tick something off my to-do list, it’s a tiny step forward.

I enter the main building and pause, taking in the room. It doesn’t look like anything, just a room with four walls, empty and silent, but the vision I have for it is so clear in my head. The reception area will be the heart of everything. The first stop for people who want a companion to complete their families, whether it be a cat or a dog. It has to radiate warmth, inviting people inside—a place that puts people at ease. Because the more at ease they are, the more likely it will be that an animal will have a second chance at a forever home.

I had finished my undergraduate degree and was in my first year at Tufts for veterinary science when Mom received the news that would change our lives. Cancer. And it was aggressive. She fought it and gave it everything she had, and I was beside her every step of the way. But there comes a point when you realize that not every fight ends up with a win.

She reached that point before I did. I lived in denial until I couldn’t close my eyes to the truth anymore. Accepting it was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do, and it led to the biggest fight we’d ever had.

There were only the two of us left, and I refused to let her spend her remaining days in an unfamiliar place with strangers taking care of her, so I took a leave of absence from college. I wanted her to be surrounded by memories of happier times. Times when Dad was still alive and our family was whole. It seemed logical to me, but she protested this vehemently, her worry for me, as always, paramount. I did it anyway, and in the end, it was the right decision. Her last smile was one I hadn’t seen since Dad had passed away from a heart attack five years before. It was a smile that told me she was happy to be seeing him again. And even though my heart was breaking, I felt a sense of peace, knowing that they would be reunited.

Do I know what the afterlife looks like? No, but imagining them happy and together made the grief easier to bear.

On the bad nights, nights when my heart ached from missing both of them, I closed my eyes and imagined Dad waiting for her beside her bed. I imagined him wrapping his arms around her, whispering her name while pressing his lips against hers. And then, once her final breath left her body, taking her hand and leading her toward the next stage of their journey. It made me feel better. Sad, but better.

During those days between her death and her funeral, I felt lost. While taking care of Mom, I had given no thought to what came next. My future loomed uncertain in front of me and going back to Tufts was simply not an option. At least not yet. There was no money left. And even if I had the money, I wasn’t sure I wanted to. Grief had cut my lifeline, leaving me adrift.

Julia came for Mom’s funeral. They had been friends since college, and even though they had different lives in different towns, they had stayed in each other’s lives. She was a major influence in why I wanted to become a vet, and she made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. Move to Westhill and work for her at her animal hospital, while I decide what I want to do. I had nothing keeping me in Boston, so after I settled everything, I packed up my car and made the four-hour drive.

Then one day, Julia mentioned this property, and it had me curious. I made an appointment to see it, and my reaction to it is difficult to explain. The best I can explain is that it was this “knowing.” Knowing that this was what I was supposed to do. My tiny contribution to offset some of the evil humans are capable of.

The woman who had owned it had died years ago, and her son, who had no interest in continuing her legacy, had allowed time to do a number on it. All he was interested in was selling it as quickly as possible. Surprisingly, no investor had snapped it up, but my best guess was that despite its size, it was too far out of town to garner any interest.

Not many people were in the market to buy an animal rescue, so it lay abandoned for years. When I put an offer in, he jumped on it even though it was below his asking price.

It was a win-win for both of us, although on bad days, days when I stressed about where I’d find the money to fix or replace the growing list of things that needed fixing or replacing, it didn’t feel like a win to me.

But today is a good day. It might be rundown and neglected, but it is mine, and with a lot of hard work and love, I’d get there. Eventually.

I’m in the room I designated as the break room, packing away the cleaning supplies, when a car door slams outside. All I want is a greasy burger and fries, a scalding bath, and then my bed for some glorious sleep. Grabbing my phone, I check the time. A shiver of unease travels down my spine. It’s after eight and dark outside, and I’m not expecting anyone.

“Hey, baby.”

All my unease evaporates, and a smile takes over my face when Ryan walks into the room. My stomach flutters when I take him in. With his backward cap—his hair curling around the edges—his shorts and tank top, he looks like a cocky shit, but there’s nothing about Ryan that’s cocky. He’s the most down-to-earth person I know. But even if he was cocky, he’d be my cocky shit.

“Hey. What are you doing here? I thought you were with the guys tonight.”

Every month, Ryan and his friends get together to do whatever strikes their fancy. Sometimes it’s poker, sometimes basketball, and sometimes it’s beers and shooting the shit. We girls get together for book club, or a night out. Whatever we decide on, it always includes a general catch-up session, drinks in some form, and of course, gossip.

I bowed out tonight so I could get some work done.

“I ducked out early.” He wraps his arms around me and pulls me against him, pressing a soft kiss against my lips. “I missed you.”

“You saw me this morning,” I whisper, reaching up and winding my arms around his neck.

“That was hours ago.” He leans forward and gently nips my lip. “And the house is empty without you.”

“I’m dirty, and I smell.”

His lips travel down my neck, and I’m helpless against the shivers running down my neck and shoulders.

“I love it when you’re dirty.” He grins, and it’s slow and lazy, his eyes filled with simmering heat.

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