CHAPTER ONE
Sophie glanced at the spine and wondered again why she’d picked upLes Misérables.She didn’t need to read about the crippling of children, the corruption of women, or the degradation of man. She needed something light and funny. And this was not it. In fact, the actual physical book was almost as heavy as its subject matter. But according to the mommy blogs she followed, intellectual stimulation was important for new moms. So…she tucked the quilt around her legs and snuggled into the corner of the sofa and tried to read.
“Mademoiselle Baptistine was a long, pale, thin, gentle creature; she realized the ideal expressed by the word “respectable”; for it seems that a woman must needs be a mother in order to be venerable.”
Sophie wanted to consider herself a mother, but she still felt like an imposter. And she’d always associated the wordvenerablewith silly video game space marines that one of her coworkers had always been going on about…the Venerable Dreadnoughts. Since she was recreating her life, would she rather be a Mademoiselle Baptistine or a space marine?
Sophie glanced at the dark night through the frosty windows and watched the trees shake their barren branches. Clouds shrouded the moon, but they were wispy rather than stormy, and for that she was grateful. It had taken an hour to calm and lull Jamison to sleep and she didn’t need a thunderclap to wake him.
She’d been living in her sister Chloe’s house for a little more than six months now and she still felt like the babysitter. Lauren had told her that any major move requires an adjustment period of a year, but on dark nights such as this, Sophie wondered if she would ever feel at home in her sister’s house, filling in her sister’s life. Maybe this place, like her sister’s shoes, would always rattle around on her. A little too big. Not quite right.
Sophie propped her feet on the ottoman and pulled a quilt around her legs before returning to the novel.“She had never been pretty; her whole life, which had been nothing but a succession of holy deeds, had finally conferred upon her a sort of pallor and transparency; and as she advanced in years she had acquired what may be called the beauty of goodness.”
Sophie did not want to grow into a Mademoiselle Baptistine, but she wasn’t sure how to stop it. Her work as an attorney had given her plenty of social interaction but didn’t win her many friends. Her newfound motherhood left her plenty of empty hours, but few opportunities for social connections. She’d decided to join the book club hosted by the downtown bookstore, but she didn’t want to slog throughLes Misérables.Maybe she’d watch the movie—the one with Hugh Jackman. She would enjoy an evening with him.
The moaning changed in tone and the door shook again. Sophie put down her book and stared at the flames dancing in the fireplace. Lauren had suggested she replace her sister’s furniture with her own, but her sleek contemporary style didn’t suit the old farmhouse, and so her belongings were stored in the basement in a holding pattern. She wasn’t ready to let them go.
Bark!
That was not the wind.
Bark! The door shook again.
Sophie kicked off the quilt and padded to the front window where she saw nothing but wind-tossed trees and dancing leaves. After undoing the latch, she opened the door. The cold wind circled the room and the flames in the hearth jumped and flickered. A bundle of fur quivered on the front step and pleaded to her with giant brown eyes.
Sophie dropped to her knees and rested her hand on the puppy’s head, trying to ease his trembling. He whined and tried to lick her hand.
“Who are you?” she muttered, avoiding his tongue while searching for a collar or tag.
He whimpered in response.
She picked him up and nestled him against her chest, horrified by his bony ribcage and splotchy fur. “You can’t stay here,” she told him. “I’m still learning how to take care of a baby. I can’t add a puppy to my chaos, especially not a sick one.” She glanced at the dark woods surrounding the house. Lights from the Jespersens’ farm told her that they were awake, but she couldn’t imagine either of the aging couple traipsing through the forest that separated their properties to deliver a puppy to her doorstep.
After bringing the dog inside, she snagged the quilt off her chair, wrapped the shivering puppy in it, and headed for the kitchen. “But I can’t leave you outside. Not on a night like this. Are you hungry?”
What did puppies eat? Other than puppy chow? She couldn’t drag Jamison from his crib and into the cold to pick up dog food at the store. The closest store was Millie’s Mini-Mart, and it was seven miles away. Besides, it didn’t make sense to buy a whole package of chow for a one-night stay.
Sophie smiled at the thought. While most people her age were partying and having one-night stands, she was babysitting her sister’s child and rescuing puppies. She blew out a sigh, sat down in front of her computer, cradled the dog in her lap, and Googled how to make homemade puppy food.
The Internet had been her lifesaver since her sister’s death. It staved off loneliness by keeping her connected with her city friends and introducing her to mommy blogs where millions of moms could answer any and all baby questions while she struggled to find her own parenting legs. Briefly, she wondered if there were puppy blogs.
But, no. She didn’t need to connect to online puppy owners since this creature was leaving first thing in the morning. He couldn’t be a permanent fixture in her life. The puppy nestled against her, and as she surfed the web searching for chow recipes, the tiny creature fell asleep, reminding her that she also needed to sleep. Jamison kept early-bird hours.
#
Luke Mason parked at the corner of Main and Olympic, not quite sure where to turn. It was an odd sensation, one that he hadn’t felt since…actually, he couldn’t remember a time when his life hadn’t been planned out in an airtight schedule. Was it his brother’s death that had brought him back to his hometown in a Herculean effort to create a do-over?
That had something to do with it. He glanced down Main. During the spring, summer, and even into the late fall, the streets would be teeming with surfers and beachgoers, but on this gray November day, Main Street matched his bleak mood.
His thoughts strayed to Matt, as they often did. In the force he hadn’t dealt with violence, as most of his work had been the cyber-sort, but he’d witnessed plenty of deaths. None of them had shaken him like Matt’s.
Honk!
Luke shook himself, glanced in his rearview mirror, and waved a half-hearted apology to the car behind him before rolling through the intersection and pulling to a stop in front of the hardware store. But as soon as he climbed from his SUV, the delicious smell of Betty’s Bakery hit him like a blow to his hungry gut and lured him in like a fish on a line.
Seconds later, he emerged with a cup of coffee and a chocolate éclair. In the few minutes he’d been in the bakery, the morning sun had burned off the marine layer, and Shell Beach didn’t look so bleak.
“Atticus! Stop!”
