Page 59 of Beckett
“How’s this?” I asked. “FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE: Healing Hearts and Paws—Where Veterans Find Hope on Four Legs. Garnet Bend, MT—Pawsitive Connections announces their first annual fundraising event connecting veterans with therapy animals, proving that sometimes the best medicine doesn’t come in a bottle—it comes with a wagging tail.”
“Oh, that’s perfect!” Lark’s voice brightened. “You’re absolutely brilliant at this!”
I kept typing, adding quotes from James Morrison about how his service dog helped him through his seizures, statistics about animal-assisted therapy for PTSD, details about the silent auction items donated by local businesses.
“I made a simple graphic too,” I said, dragging and dropping elements in the design program. “Clean, professional, but with enough visual interest to stand out in an inbox.”
“Hey, Lark,” Beckett said, making his presence known.
“Hey, Beck. You doing okay?” she asked.
“Yeah, rough night, but I’m getting through it. And before you ask, everything else is fine here.”
She chuckled. “You know me too well. Audra is helping me with some PR stuff.”
“You really know what you’re doing.” Beckett’s voice held a note of admiration that warmed me more than the mug of coffee he handed me.
“I was good at my job,” I said quietly. “Before.”
Before the stalking. Before the fear. Before I became someone who checked locks obsessively and flinched at shadows. But here, doing this work, I felt like myself again. Like Audra Cartland, who’d had a career and a future and reasons to believe tomorrow would be better than today.
“The veterans’ hospital is sending their people?” I asked Lark, refocusing on the release.
“Yes! At least twelve confirmed, plus their families. Oh, and the therapy team from Billings is doing a demonstration with their seizure alert dogs.”
I added it all, crafting the narrative that would make editors take notice. This wasn’t just another fundraiser—it was a story about healing, about second chances, about the bonds between humans and animals that could rebuild what trauma had broken.
“Send it to the media list in my contacts,” Lark instructed. “It’s labeled ‘Press Montana.’ And could you post it on our social media too? Same password for everything.”
“Already on it.” I navigated between windows, uploading the release and graphic to every platform. “Want me to schedule posts throughout the week to build momentum?”
“You can do that?”
“Public Relations 101. Create anticipation, then deliver.” My fingers flew across the keyboard, scheduling teaser posts, behind-the-scenes content, countdown reminders. “You shouldalso reach out to thatMontana Tribunephotographer directly. Personal touch always helps.”
“You’re incredible. Seriously. I can’t thank you enough.”
Beckett squeezed my shoulder gently. “Audra is definitely pretty amazing,” he agreed, and the warmth in his voice made my chest tight.
There was a beat of silence. I knew Lark had to be putting together the pieces. But she left it alone.
“Well, if you want full-time work doing this, I could definitely use the help. I desperately need someone who can handle our communications, help us grow.”
I glanced up at Beckett, who was watching me with those intense gray eyes. “I… I’d like that.”
“She’s also doing incredibly well with the dog training,” Beckett said, his hand still warm on my shoulder. “Natural instincts, especially with the anxious ones. Better than some people I’ve seen who’ve been doing it for years.”
“Really?” Lark’s voice brightened even more. “Oh, that’s perfect! I could definitely use help with that too. You’d be willing to do both?”
The praise made me flush. After weeks of feeling useless, worthless, hunted—suddenly I was needed. Wanted. Valued for skills I’d thought I’d never use again.
“Yes,” I said, the word coming out stronger than I expected. “Yes, I’d love to help with all of it.”
“We can work out the details when I get back,” Lark continued. “But seriously, Audra, you’ve saved my ass today. The release looks perfect. Professional, compelling, everything we needed.”
“It was nothing. Really. I enjoyed it.”
We wrapped up the call with Lark promising she’d be home soon. I hung up and turned in the chair to face Beckett fully.He was looking at me with something soft in his expression, something that made my heart skip.
