“Thanks, Innie.” I muss up her red curls like I know she hates.
“Stop it.”
“I mean it.”
She sighs. “Don’t mention it. And if you think it will help, I’ll bake something. You could invite her over again.”
I grin at her. “It sounds to me as if you like Romilly.”
She shrugs. “Well, I can’t afford to shop for clothes. So, why not sister-in-laws?”
Her words stir something inside me. Not the sister-in-law part, but the bit about not having enough money. I rub my hand across the back of my neck. “That reminds me. I’ve been thinking that maybe you should go back home soon.”
Ingrid pauses her stirring at the stove. When she faces me, there’s a mixture of shock, confusion, and hurt playing across her features. “What in the world for?”
“I have a job now. And I’m going to be fighting again soon, so I’ll be fine on my own. There’s no need for you to work so hard for my sake.”
She studies her food. “I really don’t mind working all that much. I actually quite like it.”
But I know it’s a lie. She hates working more than she hates smiling. “I…I’m staying in Meadow Hills. Like, permanently.” Saying it aloud makes it more real. And despite where I stand with Romilly right now, it feels good knowing I’m ready to stay and, God willing, fight for her.
She raises her eyebrows. “What about Mum and Dad?”
“They’re coming to town for the autumn gala, and they’re planning to come visit. You should go back with them because they want us out of here next month, anyway.”
She narrows her eyes. “What about you?”
“I’m not going back. I’m going to get my own place here.”
She sighs. “I have to admit, I thought you’d eventually go back to Australia, if not back with our parents. But…I’m happy for you. I think this is a good decision.”
I smile. “So, you’ll go back home?”
“I’llthinkabout it.”
“Good.” I grin at her. I can’t deny it relieves me to know she’s closer to mending things with our parents, even if I haven’tyet. “In the meantime, tell me about this loaf you’re considering baking.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
ROMILLY
Monday morning greetsme with a level of grogginess no amount of coffee can fix. After a week of chapel sessions, campfire smoke, and sleeping a few cabins away from Bash, walking back into the familiar scent of The Paw Spa feels surreal.
I’m halfway through wiping down the reception counter when the bell jingles.
“Morning, pumpkin.”
I don’t have to turn to know it’s him. That voice already lives in the back of my brain, taunting me when I least expect it.
“You’re not late,” I say, glancing at the clock. “I’m shocked.”
“I finished training a little early this morning, so I figured I’d wow you on our first day back.” He saunters in, tucking his keys in his pocket. “But I can leave and return in twenty minutes if that’s what you’re into.”
“No. Let’s just get to work.”
The morning commences quicker than I expect. Clients drop off their dogs one after another, and Bash moves through the workday like we never left. He’s all muscle and ease as he shampoos a wiggly Goldendoodle in the back. I try not to stare. I fail.
“Have you eaten?” he asks, toweling off his arms after finishing with an elderly cocker spaniel.
