Page 3 of Quietly Falling
A family.
Tomorrow.
And I can relate—to all of it.
“Mornin’, everyone,” I greet, petting all the dogs that meet me with a wagging tail and a sloppy kiss. The others I take more time with, murmuring soft encouragements to them and praying they’ll come around.
I feel for them—the anxiety of the unknown wrapped up with the safety of a place offering food and shelter.
It’s not so different from growing up in foster care.
Except they’re safe here.
They don’t always know it at first, but they’re lucky they found their way here. I’d been here the day they opened. Tanner and Sorren work hard to place the dogs in loving homes, dogs trained to be paired with veterans and others in need of service dogs.
They travel, taking in dogs from natural disasters and shelters well over capacity.
Making my way around, I settle into my newfound routine—a cadence of steps and reassuring words and physical touch if they’ll tolerate it. It’s like a dance—a delicate balance between you and the dog—and so far, the things I’ve seen here have been nothing short of a miracle.
“Hey, buddy,” I croon, approaching the last kennel, as a mutt with a brown coat and a tan snout and belly stares back at me. “Are you a good boy?” I ask, as I hold my hand up to the gate for him to smell.
He eyes me, but I have more than enough patience to do this all day. All night if that’s what it takes. Luckily it doesn’t come to that, the pup taking one step and then another, his snout cold when it nudges against my hand.
“That’s a good boy,” I tell him, offering him a treat, a small smile gracing my lips as his tail wags the slightest bit.
“You’re good with him,” a low voice says from behind me, Sorren’s footsteps quiet and unhurried on the floor. “I’ll have Tanner help me bring in the new ones. You stay with him, see if you can help him get settled.”
“Sure,” I tell him before returning my focus back to the dog. “We’ll be all right, won’t we?”
I swear the dog’s eyes soften, the words not just a way to placate him because I believe it.
And I hope he does too.
2
ELLA
“Ella! How are we doing on scones?” Rhea yells from the kitchen, making me pause what I’m doing to glance at the case.
“We just need the lemon ones!” I respond before giving my full attention to the men in front of me. “Hi Tanner, Bodhi, what can I get y’all?” I manage to get the words out with a bright smile without letting on that a swarm of butterflies has taken up residence in my belly.
For Bodhi, that is.
He’s not exactly scowling per se but it’s not far off either. His dark hair is cut short, his jawline is sharp, and the way that blue henley is stretched across his chest makes my knees weak.
Gah! Get a grip, Ella.
Months have passed since ourliteralrun-in outside the bakery, and since then it’s been like pulling teeth trying to get him to tell me anything except his coffee order.
Tanner rattles off what he and Sorren want before turning to Bodhi expectantly. I do the same only to startle when his gaze snaps up to meet mine.
Wow.
Was hestaring?
I blink and smile brighter, mentally shaking the thought away as he mumbles through his coffee order, adding a scone as an afterthought as Rhea fills the case.
They all talk as I buzz around, my heart full and happy like it is every day I come to work. The bright yellow walls and cozy furniture make it the perfect place to come in and relax. Add in the fact that we share a wall with the Wandering Pages bookstore and it’s hardly work—more like a dream come true if I’m being honest.
