Page 25 of Sometimes You Stay

Cretia shifted to her knees, and Joe let out a long yawn while stretching his body to find a new comfortable spot. “I used to be a nanny, but it’s been a long time since I was around little kids. I don’t know if I’ll be much help.”

He managed to smother his chuckle this time as he imagined her reaction to the kids waiting for their lunch. She was in for a surprise. “Sure you will. It’s not hard.” Reaching out his hand, he nodded to indicate she should take it.

She reached for him as though moving through water, slow, thoughtful.

But there was nothing gradual about the rush of lightning that zipped up his arm when her fingers touched his. If the flash in her eyes was any indication, she felt it too. But she didn’t pull back or acknowledge it beyond that. She let him pull her to her feet before immediately dropping his hand and following him toward the barn.

Cretia blinked hard in a vain attempt to acclimate to the dim light within the barn, assuming Finn was leading her to the sliding door and the house beyond. He was still right in front of her, and she had to fight the urge to reach for his back. He clearly knew his way around, but she’d never evenseen the layout. Shuffling her feet to make sure she didn’t miss a step, she tried to stay close enough to hear the even fall of his boots against the solid flooring.

When he stopped, she did too. When he stepped to the left, she followed. Rubbing her fingers against her eyes, praying she could make out more than dark shapes, she tiptoed in his direction. And promptly ran right into his shoulder, her nose bouncing off the soft fabric of his Henley.

“Oops.” He chuckled, slipping an arm around her back. “You okay there?”

“Yep. Fine. It’s just a little bit dark in here.”

“Sorry. Some of the animals don’t appreciate it if it’s too bright.”

She tilted her head up and frowned, assuming he could see her. “Joe Jr. and the puppies seemed to have no problem in the sun.”

His throaty laugh made her lean in, but she swayed back quickly.

“They don’t mind the natural light, but Joe is an animal all his own. And he’s spent most of his life in the house. He has no idea what it’s like to live in a barn.” His voice grew slightly softer as he turned his head. “So I try to make it as comfortable as I can for the rest of them.”

“The rest?”

Before Finn could answer her question, something across the open barn bleated. Then again. Then several more times. Or maybe several others. Joined almost immediately by a cow lowing.

Those were definitely not dogs.

She blinked hard and rubbed her fists against her eyes, and when she opened them, a row of stalls along the farwall came almost into focus. The wooden walls between the pens were maybe six feet, but the front gates were more like half that. The enclosures spanned the entire length of the barn, hay and grain spilling over onto the cement floor in front of them.

A bark from the dogs on the other side of the barn made her spin toward the seven happy faces behind chain-link fences. Sunlight glowed through a large opening in the wall beyond them, which seemed to lead to another yard on the outside.

She looked up at Finn and tilted her head toward the stalls. “What’s in those other pens?”

He shrugged. “Mostly strays.”

Halfway toward the middle pen, she whipped around to him. “But they’re not dogs?” The words came out far too much like a question, like she wasn’t sure she could trust her ears. Apparently, she didn’t.

Another lift of his shoulder. But this one came with a Cheshire cat grin. “Go on. See for yourself.”

As she shuffled toward the middle gate, her eyes finally adjusted to the light. She took the last three steps at a jog.

From the other side of the wall, three long, fuzzy faces looked up at her. Their eyes were strange, with horizontal pupils that made her pull back for a second. Then one of the little ones bleated at her, flapping its ears.

She couldn’t help but giggle. “Goats. You have goats.”

Somehow Finn had made it to her side without her knowing. So when he spoke close enough to stir her hair, she jumped. “And mama goats have babies, which are called...”

Heat flushed through her, and she covered her face with both hands, shaking her head. “Kids,” she whispered throughher fingers. She refused to look up to see the spark of humor in his eyes that she already knew followed that deep chuckle.

“You must think I’m an...” She stopped herself and dropped her hands quickly. “Wait. How was I supposed to know you weren’t a dad?”

The corner of his mouth ticked up, though it was hard to tell under the volume of his beard. Maybe there was a dimple under there.

Too bad you’ll never get to find out.

No. Not too bad. She just wasn’t going to know. It was as easy as that. Because she wasn’t going to stick around.

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