Page 60 of Sometimes You Stay

“You know, like Spud, Tater, Chip ... The island is famous for its potatoes, and the puppies kind of resemble them in shape if not color.”

“You couldn’t even get halfway through naming all of them.”

He waved off her argument. “We’ll get creative. We have time.”

Hehad time. She had just long enough for a box to fly over the Atlantic and find its way to the inn with the red door—and that was only if she didn’t call the delivery company back and ask them to hold it for her in Italy.

Who was she kidding? She wasn’t going to go to Italy. She was going to stay right where she was until her computer arrived.

But until then, she was definitely going to keep as much space as possible between them.

The squirming black spuds caught her eye.

Well, maybe she could come down to the farm for a visitor two before she left. Julia Mae was sure to want to see the new arrivals.

“Tomorrow will be a busy day for me, what with the vet visit.” Finn pushed his hands into his pockets, shrugging. “But I got a call earlier from someone up near the North Point.”

She raised her eyebrows in question.

“There’s a cow that needs a new home, and I thought maybe you’d like to go pick it up with me in a day or two.”

“A cow? Like Roberta? You know how much she hates me.”

Finn chuckled. “Roberta doesn’t hate you. She just isn’t sure what you’re doing here.”

That made two of them.

“But this one is a miniature Highland cow.”

“The little ones with long hair and adorable noses? The ones that have taken social media by storm?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

Right. Because the man basically had a dial-up system on a computer from 1981.

“The owners thought it would make a cute pet.”

That sounded right.

“But it’s pretty much destroyed their living room. It needs an outside home, some grass, and some room to roam.”

“And you want me to go with you?”

Her mother’s reminder about drugs popped into her head.Just say no.

She did not need to go with him. It wasn’t smart. She couldn’t really be helpful. And she had just decided to limit her time with him.

This was not limiting her time.

“I’m sure you’re—”

He cut her off before she could finish. “I thought I could show you a few of my favorite spots on the island on the way. Maybe they’d make good videos for your work.”

Shoot.

“So, how did you get into ... what did you call it? Creating stuff?” Finn glanced across the cab of his truck at Cretia, who had been silent for the last ten minutes. It wasn’t a strained silence, just quiet. Only the rattle of the stick shift to fill the space. He’d turn on the radio, but he didn’t want to risk missing her words when she chose to speak.

Cretia didn’t seem to mind the stillness, her head turned toward the window as she watched the bay amble by, its tides coming and going in a gentle rhythm against the big red rocks of the national park shore. Tall pine trees—sentinels of the Gulf of St. Lawrence—sometimes blocked the view, but they didn’t dissuade her. She seemed content to just stare at creation. His view of the gray road wasn’t quite as engrossing.

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