Page 8 of 15 Summers Later

“She was a trouper, for the most part.” He nodded toward the bag she set down against the wall. “Do you have a lot to unload?”

“Four more bags. That was all they had at the feed store.”

“I can help you bring it in. Might as well at least save you a few trips.”

Predictably, Madi looked as if she wanted to argue. Stubborn thing. She could be as obstinate as that goat, though he would never dare verbalize such a thing to her.

Finally, she bit her lip, the side that didn’t lift. “Thanks,” she said instead.

Her vintage pickup looked cheerful in the fading sunlight, all teal and yellow. Looking at the truck made him smile almost as much as looking at Madison did.

Luke hefted a bag over each shoulder and carried them back into the barn and set them against the wall, where she added the one she had carried.

“I’ll grab the last bags.”

He thought she would argue, but she only nodded. “Leave one in the truck, if you would. It’s for Leona’s dog. I’ll run it over later tonight or in the morning.”

When he returned to the barn, he discovered she was cradling a small calico kitten. He was familiar with all the sanctuary animals as he usually gave them a health exam when they first arrived. He didn’t recognize the kitten.

“Where did you find this one?”

“On my way back from the feed store, I got a call from Charla Pope. She found a stray kitten mewling in her flower bed, with no sign of the mama cat anywhere. It’s been there since last night. I stopped on my way home and the poor thing looks half-starved.”

Madi had an uncanny knack for locating stray creatures. He suspected they were drawn to her, sensing a friend and savior.

She hadn’t changed. She still tried to bring home every stray animal she could find, only now she did it officially, through the auspices of the Emerald Creek Animal Rescue.

“Want me to take a look at it?”

She gave him her unique smile, her eyes bright with gratitude. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all. I’ve got time. Let’s take her into the exam room.”

Still cradling the tiny kitten, Madi picked up her laptop from the office before following him into the small treatment room at the center.

She opened her laptop and created a treatment file for the kitten. “Want to name her?” she asked him.

He was lousy at picking animal names. “You rescued her. Go ahead.”

She studied the kitten. “How about we call her Callie for now?”

“Sounds good.”

She typed a few things onto the screen, with so much efficiency it was easy to miss how her left hand had a slight contracture and didn’t work the same as her right did. It was nerve damage from injuries sustained fifteen years ago, but Madi didn’t let it bother her.

He handled the animal with gentleness as he weighed it first and measured its size, reporting all those numbers for Madison to record.

“I don’t see any sign of obvious disease or injury,” he said after his initial exam. “She appears healthy, if a little malnourished.”

“How old do you think she is?”

“Pure guesswork, but I would estimate her to be about five or six weeks old.”

“That’s what I was thinking. So no vaccinations for a few weeks and she’s also old enough to be weaned.”

“Yes, but I would still feed her kitten milk replacement along with some soft kitty chow.”

“I’ve got some at the house. That sounds like a good plan.”

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