Page 18 of Sweet Beginnings

That seemed to make his mother come the closest to smiling she’d done all morning. “Good thing so many of your things are still here. Otherwise you’d be borrowing your brothers’ clothes this morning.”

Her attention successfully diverted to a safer—for now—topic, his mom gingerly cut at the edge of her pancake. He’d noticed she’d even been chewing slowly. Between the deliberate movements and lack of appetite, he had little doubt that his mom was hurting more than she was letting on.

All the kids had moved out, though none had had the heart to fully empty their rooms. Preston was no exception, and yet, he never thought there would come a day when whatever was left in his old room would be pretty much all he had. Hopefully, the next part of the plan would easily unfold his mother’s natural suspicions. However things progressed, they’d better do so quickly because with every tick of the clock, this family was running out of time.

“Are you ready?” Standing at the passenger door, Preston held his hand out for Sarah Sue.

She’d been settling into her new role all day. Well, technically, most of the night too as visions of a pretend life with Preston filled both her waking thoughts and what little sleeping moments she’d had. The silent communication first thing this morning had taken her by surprise at first, but by the time she’d returned home, she’d reminded herself that of all the brothers, she’d always somehow felt more connected to Preston. Then she’d spent the rest of her day casually bringing Preston’s name up with every conversation she’d had, even folks who didn’t live in town or have a clue who he was. What she hadn’t worked out was when to sit down with her father. Sooner than later would probably be best, but for now, the second night of the big charade was on. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Her hand slid easily into his and without hesitation, their fingers intertwined. Somehow this felt more natural to Sarah than walking on her own, hands free.

Tonight, rather than the café, they’d chosen the Main Street Steakhouse for dinner. Though it was unlikely they’d run into Mildred or Iris here on a weeknight, there was no doubt their evening out would find its way onto the grapevine just as quickly nonetheless.

Preston leaned in as they reached the door. “I thought I’d ask for a booth. Implies a need for privacy.”

“Sit next to me too.”

His eyes widened a moment before his head tipped with questions.

“Friends sit across from each other, married people sit across from each other, but—”

“People dating sit side by side,” Preston finished her thought and nodded briefly. “Side by side it is.”

What she hadn’t given any thought to was how hard it might be sitting so close to Preston that she could feel the warmth of his thigh spreading through her slacks and inching its way through her system all the way to her fingertips and toes.

“How’d your day go?” Preston smiled at her before reaching for the menu.

“Fine except for a troubled K-9. I’m running out of options for him.”

“K-9?” It took a second for Preston to mull over her words. “That’s right. You work with a non-profit, don’t you?”

“I do. And I’m tasked with rehoming and retraining troubled service dogs to be able to be adopted by ordinary families, but it’s not easy finding interim places for them.”

“Admirable.” After a quick perusal, he set the menu on the table. “Brady had a hard time adjusting to ranch life after his stint as a military dog.”

“I know it put Kade at ease having your family take care of Brady. Your mom did a great job with him.”

“That she did. Mom is amazing.” His expression slipped. “I can’t imagine what we’d have done if yesterday had turned out differently, if we hadn’t found her so soon.”

“Well, don’t think about that. Your mom is tough and that attitude will help speed her recovery. I just wish it were in time for Samson.”

“Samson?”

“The latest K-9 with PTSD issues. I have to go check him out tomorrow. I was hoping I could get your mom to take him on, but I can’t ask in her condition.”

“Why not?”

“German Shepherds with PTSD can be a handful, and Samson is a big boy. Your mom would need all her strength to work with him.”

“What about me? I can help. So can my siblings.”

“Don’t you think y’all have your hands full enough at the moment?”

“We do, but I know from Kade and Brady that service dogs deserve as much of our respect and gratitude as the men in combat boots. If you don’t find someone, what will happen to him?”

That she didn’t want to think about. “As a very last resort, he could be put down to make way for other dogs coming into the program with better odds of rehabilitation. At the moment there’s a Tuesday deadline.”

“Then I guess it’s settled. If Mom agrees, we’re all in. Can I come with you tomorrow?”

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