Page 23 of Found by the Pack
“Don’t bother. I’ve got it.” She’s already moving around with a rag.
I order my usual, then pause. “What’d she get?”
Cora lifts a brow.
“The girl. Pink hair. Sadie.”
“Oh.” She smiles conspiratorially. “She’s quiet. Bit prickly, maybe, but sweet. I doubt you’re why she was grumpy, darling. Don’t take it personal.”
“Still. What’d she order?”
“Cocoa. Cherry scone.”
I nod. “Give me the same. I’ll bring it to her if I see her again.”
Cora’s already packing it into a box. “On the house.”
“You don’t have to?—”
“I insist. Consider it a town welcome to her, from me.”
I take it, nod in thanks, and lean against the counter.
“How are the husbands?” I ask. “Julian still obsessed with your sourdough?”
Cora laughs. “Always. Elias has been on a pickling kick lately. My fridge is 80% jars. And Ronan installed a new spice rack last week.”
“Must be nice.”
“It is,” she says, not bragging, just honest.
I sip my drink as I leave. Still warm. Still good.
Maybe if I see her again, she’ll let me explain. Not that I’ve got much to explain. I was just clumsy and big and in her way.
But she looked like she’d had a bad day already. Or a bad year.
I know that look. Sometimes, I still see it in the mirror.
Back at the apartment, I head straight for the microwave. Sure enough, Shepard’s left bacon covered in a paper towel likea damn angel. I reheat it, finish my drink, and think about whether or not I’ll run into Sadie again.
If I do, I’ll try not to be a jackass this time.
Ishower fast. Not because I’m in a rush—habit, mostly. The firehouse drilled the urgency into me, and paramedic life kept it there. A four-minute rinse, a towel drag over my hair, and I’m already in my clean navy uniform, badge clipped, boots tight, and backpack slung over one shoulder.
Let’s do this.
The engine hums as I back out of the parking lot behind our shared apartment complex. Gabe’s truck is still parked out front, which means he’s either sleeping in or still brooding about the girl with the pink hair.
Can’t blame him. She looked like the kind of woman you don’t forget, even if you want to.
Sadie.
She didn’t give me much to work with this morning. Just a startled glance, a stained pair of shoes, and a brush-off that stung more than it should’ve.
Whatever. People have bad mornings. Hell, I’ve had whole bad years.
I pull up to the emergency services building. It’s tucked behind city hall, a squat brick structure that smells like stale coffee and disinfectant.
