Chapter 5 #2
“We’re ready, Miss Heather!” she declared, craning her neck around Lyle’s hat, her enthusiasm infectious.
“I know the invite was for Charlotte,” Lyle said, “but she insisted that I come, too.” The brim of his hat cast a shadow over his face as he shot Heather a lopsided grin. “Can’t say no to a determined six-year-old. Hope you’ve got room in that Jeep?”
Heather rolled her eyes, deliberately avoiding the tug in her chest that his grin always seemed to spark.
She didn't imagine it was easy for him to drop everything and take off spontaneously like this.
It just went to show how determined he was to reach Charlotte, to give her whatever she needed in order to smooth her path along this journey life had thrown her on.
“Guess you can ride along. Charlotte looks like she’s got things under control anyway.”
They transferred Charlotte’s safety seat into Heather’s Jeep and secured the dogs in their crates in the back.
She was only taking Biscuit, Muffin and Holly so as not to overwhelm the residents of the senior center or herself.
Biscuit was a bit iffy since he was still in his puppy stage and unpredictable, but who could resist a puppy?
As for Muffin, this was another step in her training program to expose her to people and unfamiliar places.
Holly was the well-behaved one of the bunch, there to help Heather keep the other two in line.
The drive was short, filled with Charlotte’s endless chatter about Pudge’s new skills as a “helper kitty” and Lyle’s occasional teasing interjections.
Heather found herself smiling more than she had in weeks, though she kept her focus firmly on the road, refusing to fully surrender to the warmth blossoming in her chest.
Or the desire. Visuals alone, this man was a dream. A pair of cowboy boots and a hat tipped low and sexy would get her every time. Actually, if she thought about it, that wasn't true. She wasn't usually one to go ga-ga over a handsome man.
Lyle Watkins was an exception. Had been since she was a young girl.
When they arrived at the senior center, Heather led her dogs inside, Biscuit taking the lead with his natural, puppy exuberance. The residents’ faces lit up immediately, their eyes shining as Holly and Muffin also wove their way through the room, noses nudging hands and tails wagging joyfully.
Heather glanced back and paused, her breath catching.
Lyle was crouched beside a frail woman in a wheelchair, speaking softly as he supervised Charlotte placing Pudge in the elderly woman’s lap.
The kitten curled into a ball, purring quietly as if it instinctively knew it was needed.
That little cat was the darnedest thing.
If Heather wanted to be fanciful, she might imagine it was an angel in disguise.
“You like cats, Miz Jacobs?” Lyle asked, his tone warm and genuine.
She nodded, her thin fingers stroking Pudge’s fur as her eyes filled with unshed tears.
“I used to have one just like this,” she murmured, her smile trembling but radiant.
She stared at him for a solemn moment. "Didn't I teach you in sixth grade?
" she asked, her shrewd eyes still filled with a youthful spark even though her legs, covered in a colorful afghan, would no longer hold her.
"Yes, ma'am. Learned just about everything I know from you."
She scoffed, her frail hand stroking the kitten. "Too charming for your own good. All you Watkins boys were. What are you up to these days?"
"Tending to the health of the town's animals and wrangling this little girl." He ruffled Charlotte's blonde curls.
Just then, Biscuit shimmied under a recliner chair, giving a soft bark at something wedged beneath. "Oh, no. Wait! I'll get it, Biscuit." Charlotte took off to help the puppy retrieve whatever he was after, delighting the gentleman sitting in said recliner.
Mrs. Jacobs reached out and gripped Lyle's hand. "I'm so sorry for your loss, hun."
"Thank you, kindly, Miz Jacobs."
Heather’s chest tightened as she watched Lyle gently place a kiss on Mrs. Jacobs' papery cheek. Grabbing the handles of the wheelchair, he pushed her, with Pudge still ensconced in her lap, across the floor to interact with the other residents. He moved with the same patience and care he’d shown with Cole’s young mare, his ruggedness softened by a tenderness she knew he tried to hide most of the time.
And the way Charlotte clung to his side, feeding off his calm energy—it was a sight that made Heather feel both comforted and unsettled.
It wasn’t long before the dogs had the entire room buzzing with energy, and Heather found herself guiding Biscuit toward a group of residents eager to fuss over his floppy ears.
She laughed as the Retriever puppy soaked up the attention, and even though this was a training mission, she allowed the dogs to just be their sweet, happy selves to the delight of everyone in the room.
She was acutely aware of Lyle’s presence, of the way his laughter mingled with everyone else’s and the way Charlotte’s happy giggles rang out alongside Biscuit’s playful barks.
Charlotte really came out of her shell, determined to share her ‘helper kitty’ with as many folks as she could manage.
She seemed to like the older people. It made Heather wonder about Charlotte’s grandparents.
She didn’t know the whole story, didn’t know if either Jeff or Sherry had family.
And if they had, why was Lyle raising their granddaughter?
It was late afternoon by the time they loaded the dogs back into the Jeep to head home. Charlotte, exhausted but glowing, fell asleep almost instantly in the backseat, Pudge nestled in her lap like a tiny, purring guardian.
Heather glanced at Lyle, who was gazing out the passenger window, his profile softened by the golden light. He looked pensive, a bit sad.
“Are you okay?”
He turned to her and his lips quirked in that familiar half-smile, clearly attempting to hide whatever melancholy thoughts gripped him. “I'm good.”
“You lie like a dog. You seem... I don’t know. Like you’re carrying something heavy.”