Page 8 of Tinder Embrace
She limped toward the hall, and I clenched my hands into fists to keep from going after her, remembering only afterward why that was a terrible idea. Slowly, I rotated my left shoulder and flexed my aching wrist.
By the time Sophie shambled back to the couch, I'd managed a pep talk about keeping my hands to myself and resumed a seated position. She dropped down next to me with a sigh, her soft thigh brushing mine. The immediate flash of heat that rocketed through me made it difficult to focus on her words. Something about another show. Ruthlessly, I cut her off and scrambled upright, standing awkwardly next to the couch, unable to look her in the eye.
"I have work to do. Text if you need something."
Jo would never forgive me for being a lousy host, but I couldn't handle one more minute with her hip pressed against mine.
"Do you need help?" Sophie glanced ruefully at her ankle. "I know I'm not moving great, but I'll do whatever I can if you need an extra hand."
I scowled at the reminder that everything was going to take twice as long thanks to our mishap.
"No. It's paperwork. You’d just be in the way."
Abruptly, I pivoted, striding for the back door and freedom. I slowed as I drew nearer to the large barn that housed my foster kittens and office, spotting a familiar towheaded boy.
"Hey, Taylor. You come to keep the kittens company?" I asked. The solemn boy nodded. "Does your dad know where you are?" He nodded again, and I pressed the combination on my number pad, granting both of us access to the barn. "Okay, then."
Taylor made a beeline for his favorite of my rescues, a black kitten I'd named Shadow, settling down immediately to pet the ball of fur.
My nearest neighbor, Dallas Lachman, and I had struck a deal. His son Taylor was allowed to come socialize with the cats so long as Taylor's chores were done, and he let his dad know where he was. In return, Taylor helped me feed and water my young charges.
I checked on my oldest cat, Princess Buttercup, stroking her ginger fur idly before sitting down at my desk to work. My kitten rescue was a poor cover for what I’d really become – owner of a herd of cats. True, I fostered and adopted out some of my brood, but Princess Buttercup was looking likely to be a Pruitt Farm lifer.
The kittens took the open door as the invitation it was, until all five of my current fosters, with the exception of Shadow, made their way in to join me. Princess Buttercup jumped into my lap. Frick and Frack chased toys in the corner, and Picard settled his chin on my keyboard while Dorito circled my ankles.
"Mr. Davis?"
I looked up, blinking. I'd lost track of time.
Taylor stood in the door, Shadow clutched in his arms. "I've refilled the food bowls and cleaned the litter box. I'm going to go home now."
"Thanks, Taylor. Tell your dad I said hi."
Taylor pivoted, and I watched as he detached Shadow, placing him gently on the ground before sliding through the barn door, careful not to let the kitten out.
The boy reminded me of me. Quiet. Hurting. Taylor’s parents had gone through a nasty divorce in the last year, culminating with his mom moving away from Campfire.
I remembered the days after my parents’ divorce and our mother’s abandonment. I’d felt lost. My dad hadn’t coped well at first, but I’d had Jo. We’d clung to each other, trying to fill in the gaps our mother had left. But some things were impossible to replace.
Letting Taylor play with the kittens was no bother. It wasn’t his fault his folks split, but he’d still been caught in the middle of the whole mess.
Not everyone was compatible with farm life. It was a painful lesson, but one best learned early. I’d seen it time and time again, up close and personal. Social butterflies didn’t last in isolation, and farm life could be lonely. It was better to keep my distance than to invite pain for someone I cared about.
Chapter 4
Sophie
Being alone gave me way too much time to think. I wasn't used to this much inactivity. Listlessly, I glanced at the bag of schoolwork I'd asked Davis to pack for me. I still had about thirty shamrocks to cut out. Usually, I loved decorating my classroom each month, but I'd fallen behind, and the idea of spending an hour mindlessly cutting held no appeal.
I wondered what Davis was up to. The man was so secretive, coming and going at will. Not that he needed to tell me what he was doing. I was used to him popping up where we least expected him. It'd been that way since we started campfire nights around the Pruitt Farm firepit. Izzy had invited me to join her, Jo, and Gwen, when I'd first moved to town, and slowly our group had grown to include Eve as well.
Izzy would never know how much her friendly offer meant to me. I'd been new to town, lonely and struggling to find my way. She, Jo, and Gwen had given me a support group that I cherished.
Bored and lonelier than I wanted to admit, I limped my way through the house, searching for Davis. I'd thought he kept an office in the house, but I realized almost immediately that I'd found Jo's space, not his. Slowly, I made my way to the back door, then to the barn that housed Davis's kittens, coming face-to-face with Taylor Lachman.
"Taylor? What are you doing here?"
"Hi, Ms. Dunham," he said, looking at his feet. "I live next door. Mr. Davis lets me help him with the kittens," he mumbled.
