She lays the bedraggled thing on the kitchen counter and races off to find something. The bird is in shock, by the looks of it. Probably won’t last the night. A heartbeat later, she reappears, distraught.
“I can’t find a shoebox!” She spins around, hands flying upward. “Daddy, weneeda shoebox to keep her warm!”
Sighing, I tug my coat from the hooks by the door. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.”
Maise is fussing over the bird as I step outside and pull the door shut behind me. The first flakes of the evening’s snowfall start to drift downward as I crunch my way toward Hank’s house. He’s the closest neighbor for half a mile. If he doesn’t have a shoebox, we ain’t getting one.
By the time I make the front porch, curiosity has the better of me, and I’m half hoping the new caretaker will answer the door.
Not that I’m interested.
I knock, brisk—all business.
The bird. Right, the bird.
Not that I have any desire to get into to anything serious with a woman after the last disast?—
The door swings open.
Instantly, the pretty face that greets me twists with annoyance.
“Come to check if I locked the doors and windows, lest you’re inconvenienced again?”
I would laugh at her sassy first words, but heat floods my neck and face. I didn’t mean to come off as inconsiderate or uncaring, but apparently that’s exactly what I’ve done.
Nothing new, I suppose. I’ve been told time and time again I’m too blunt.
“Ah, no.” I rub a hand behind my neck, letting my gaze wander behind the beautiful brunette in front of me, almost searching for Hank. I’d much rather talk with him, if he’s having a good night. It changes so fast for him, almost hourly, so?—
“Did you come over here just to snoop? Or just to stare?”
Huh.
Right.
If I’m blunt, she’s sarcasm and intolerance personified.
“You know what, forget it.” I turn on my heel and make for the steps.
The door slams behind me.
I shake my head and huff a disbelieving sound. Well, that didn’t take long for her to hate me. Talk about getting off on the wrong damn foot.
It should bother me that my new neighbor doesn’t like me, that her bitterness has been constant since we met. But for some reason, by the time I get back to the house, I can’t wipe the smile off my stupid damn face.
Maise is sobbing into her pillow.
Birdy, as she so eloquently named it, didn’t make it. She was gone by the time I got back from Hank’s. Honestly, I doubt she—at least, we think it was a she—would have made it through the night. Birds are always touch and go, and in winter... the odds are bleak.
“Maise, you did everything you could. And we were with her when she closed her eyes. She was warm and loved at the end. More than most creatures ever get, kiddo. You did good.”
She wails into the damn pillow and my heart tumbles from my chest.
Fuck.
Sitting on the edge of her bed, I rub a hand over her small back. She’s had a long, dramatic day. And every inch of me hurts seeing her upset. And not all of those tears may be for the bird. She was so excited to start a new school, and I imagine today did not go the way she hoped it would.
My beautiful girl. My sweet baby... God, I just want to fix every problem, save her from every hurt.
