Chapter 5
As usual, Max awoke before his alarm the next morning.
The habit had settled into him years ago when he’d been in the military. Now he liked to sleep light, wake early, and check the perimeter before the day had a chance to get ahead of him.
For a moment, he lay still in his over-the-garage apartment, staring at the ceiling. His gaze moved to the wall art hanging across from him, a piece Sarah had left there. It was simple—a white background, a wood frame, and a Bible verse written in simple lettering.
Pursues righteousness . . . it was like Sarah had left that message just for him. Because that was his goal. To always do the right thing, no matter the cost.
Sarah had let him live in this room when he worked for her, and Caleb and Naomi had let him keep it. He wondered how long that would last. They were getting more calls. More women were wanting to stay here. Eventually, they’d run out of room.
But that was a problem for another day.
Right now, he swung his legs over the side of the bed, stood, and got ready for the day.
Part of him had been tempted to stay awake all night and monitor things. But they had a security system in place for a reason. Their alarms should alert them if anything happened.
That should make him feel better. So why didn’t it?
He stepped outside and glanced at the faint gray-blue that stretched across the horizon. Last night’s snow covered everything in a clean, unbroken layer. This certainly had been a snowy winter.
He was ready for some sunshine.
Max pulled his jacket tighter and started toward the driveway.
He’d taken only a few steps when something caught his attention.
A car was parked near the kennel.
Not just any car—Hadley’s.
He slowed.
She’d said she was staying a while longer but not all night. The thought sloshed in his chest as he shifted his direction.
He should have checked last night to make sure she’d left. Why hadn’t he?
He knew why—he hadn’t wanted to be pushy. Had told himself to keep his distance.
What a mistake.
Max cut across the yard toward the kennel. He pushed the door open and stepped inside.
Warmth met him, followed by the unusual quiet of the kennels. The dogs were still sleeping.
But he didn’t see Hadley.
If she wasn’t here, then why was her car outside?
The tension across his back pulled tighter. She could have gone inside the house, he rationalized. She could have stayed in one of the guest rooms there.
There was no need to feel worried yet.
He strode down the aisle, checking each pen.
When he reached Juno, he stopped.
Hadley lay curled on a blanket on the floor. Her arm rested across her midsection, and her face was turned toward Juno and the puppies. Dark hair fell in loose waves across her cheek and shoulders, softening her features in the low light.
She looked like an angel.
Wasn’t that how he’d started to think of her? Not just because of how she looked, but because of the way she moved through the world.
She had such an easy smile. And her eyes often lit when she talked, making it seem as if she’d found something to appreciate in even the smallest things. She carried a kind of brightness with her, a quiet joy that didn’t seem forced or naive—just real.
Max didn’t often notice things like that. He definitely didn’t go looking for them.
But with Hadley, the thoughts were harder to ignore. The woman fascinated him in ways he didn’t quite understand.
She was entirely too good for Max, but that didn’t stop his heart from skipping a beat as he observed her . . . something he needed to stop doing. Watching her suddenly felt intrusive.
He cleared his throat. “Hadley?”
She shifted as she roused. Her brow furrowed, and she drew in a slow breath before her eyes opened.
She blinked up at him before pushing herself up onto one elbow.
“Max?” She almost sounded confused.
“You all right?”
“Um . . . yes, I’m fine. Just discombobulated, I suppose.” She glanced around, like she was piecing together where she was. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”
“That floor couldn’t have been comfortable.”
She sat up fully now, brushing a hand through her hair as she winced. “I . . . I didn’t want to leave Juno. And then . . . my exhaustion caught up with me, I suppose.”
She’d had so much going on lately. He knew that. Moving to a new place and then renovating the old antique store and transforming it into her own vet clinic was a lot.
She’d mostly done it alone. Her cousins had been there to help, of course. But anyone in her situation might feel overwhelmed. He’d admired her hard work and dedication.
Max glanced at Juno as she lay curled around her puppies. “She looks like she’s doing fine.”
“She’s doing more than fine. She’s doing great.”
Max didn’t miss the stiffness in Hadley’s actions or the way she rolled her shoulders. “You’ve got to be sore.”
She huffed a quiet laugh and rolled her neck. “Define sore.”
Max almost smiled. “There are better options than the kennel floor.”
“You couldn’t have convinced me of that last night. Juno needed someone here with her.” She looked back at him, and her eyes flickered as if she had a new thought. “Is everything okay?”
Memories of the confrontation with Lyndee last night filled his mind.
“As far as I know.” He shifted his weight, glancing toward the door. “I was heading out to check the perimeter, but I decided to swing by when I saw your car was still here.”
“I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Scare is a strong word.” He absently rubbed his neck, wondering if he’d said too much and desperate for a subject change. “Can I bring you some coffee or breakfast?”
“Thank you, but I’ll grab something on my way to town. I’ve got an appointment in—” She glanced at her watch. “Forty minutes.”
“Then we’ll talk more later. I’ll take good care of Juno until you can come back.”
“I appreciate that. I know she’s in good hands.”
He offered a nod before heading back outside.
But as he stepped into the cold, the image of Hadley sleeping on the floor with the blanket around her stayed with him longer than it should have.
Hadley waited until the door closed before letting out a breath.
For a moment, she stayed where she was, sitting on the thin blanket with her legs tucked beneath her. Her body was clearly upset with her for sleeping on the concrete floor.
She’d expect nothing less. She liked to think she was still young—and in theory she was. But thirty-two wasn’t the same as twenty-two, and her body reminded her of that whenever it could.
She pushed herself to her feet, her muscles still stiff and uncooperative. She stretched, trying to work the tension out before it settled deeper.
Her gaze drifted to Juno and her puppies. “I told you we’d get through this first night.”
The mama dog shifted, her breathing steady.
The door opened again, and Hadley turned to see Caleb step inside.
One look at his expression, and she knew he wasn’t here to check on Juno.
Something was wrong.
“Have you seen Lyndee?” he rushed. “She didn’t come in here, did she?”
Hadley blinked, caught off guard by the intensity in his voice. “No, I thought she was inside.”
“She was.” Caleb ran a hand through his hair, his expression tight. “But now she’s not.”
Her lungs froze. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, her room is empty.” Caleb met her gaze. “She’s gone.”