I pull on the linen shirt to wrap it tighter around my body. It’s the middle of summer and thunderstorms aren’t unusual in the afternoon. Pausing by the glass door to peer out at the rain, I tuck the loaf of bread under my arm and frown. When I checked the forecast this morning, it was all sunshine and clear skies. So when I decided to ride my bike into town, I hadn’t planned on a change in the weather like this.
“Stay dry out there, Willow!”
“Thanks, Miss Maggie!” I call back to her with a smile, not bothering to tell her there’s no way for me to stay dry if I’m riding my bike in this.
Taking a deep breath, I push open the door and step out into the weather. I duck my head and walk over to my bike. There’s a small backpack hanging on the front and it’s already a bit wet, but I toss the loaf into it and slide my arms through the straps. It’s not a far bike ride home—only about a fifteen minute ride without weather like this.
My hands wrap around the handle bars and just as I’m about to push it away from the front of Miss Maggie’s bakery, I hear the softest sound. It’s almost like a strangled cry, a gentle protest against an unknown force. My feet stop, hands supporting my bike as I glance around, waiting for another string of mewing.
Tucked just along the corner of the building are two small forms, huddled together. I lean my bike back against the building, my feet splashing through small puddles on the sidewalk as I move closer to the small bodies. I stop, my forehead creasing as I slowly lower myself into a squatting position.
Two small kittens press close together in an attempt to shelter themselves from the storm against the side of the brickbuilding. One is all grey and the other is grey and white. Both of their bodies shake from the sudden chill in the air skating over their wet fur.
“Hey, little friends,” I murmur, peering down at the two of them. The grey one lifts its head and a gasp escapes me as it turns at the sound of my voice. Both of its eyes are crusted shut, most likely infected. “Oh my,” I say to myself, my lips tugging downward as my heart constricts in my chest, realizing what this means for this poor little kitten. The white and grey one turns to look and one of its eyes looks just as badly infected as well.
I don’t know what’s wrong with them and I know better than to touch an animal that could be carrying a disease. But as I look down at the two helpless little things, I can’t stop myself. I can’t leave them like this.
Shrugging off my linen shirt, I drop it down to my hands. Droplets of rain hit the skin on my now exposed shoulders showing from my tank top. “Let’s get you both out of the cold,” I say to them, going against every rational thought in my brain as I scoop them both into my shirt. Neither of them protest and that has my heart splintering.
The local vet clinic is closed for the day and the closest animal shelter is on the outskirts of the main city, about a half an hour away. We truly need some kind of a rescue here, or an after-hours place. The vet clinic usually handles situations like this, but in a small town, it’s hard for it to be open past normal working hours.
“Willy?”
A shiver runs down my spine and it’s not from the rain, nor the cool air that wraps around me.
“What the hell are you doing out here in the rain?”
Holding the kittens against my chest, I slowly turn around. Jace’s eyebrows cinch closer to one another as curiosity burns in his gaze. “I found these two kittens.”
Jace tilts his head to the side, his eyes flicking to my arms and then back to mine. He shrugs off his jacket and reaches me in two strides, his arms extending past me as he wraps his jacket around my shoulders. “Where’s your car?”
“I rode my bike.”
The muscle in his jaw flexes and his nostrils widen slightly. “Where is it?”
“Over there,” I motion with my head behind me. Jace doesn’t say another word as he walks past me and grabs my bike. “What are you doing?” I ask as he pushes it down the sidewalk.
“Putting it in my truck.”
“Why?” I ask, hurrying to follow after him, shielding the kittens from the rain. His truck is just along the curb and the muscles in his arms ripple as he lifts the bike into the air and puts it in the truck bed. The rain beats down a little harder now and his white T-shirt clings to the curves of his body.
“Get in,” he says, his voice soft but firm as he steps to the passenger’s side and hauls open the door. He doesn’t wait for me to get another word out as he comes over and, with his arm around my back, ushers me into the cab and out of the rain.
Once settled into my seat, I unravel my shirt from around the kittens and make a little nest with it on my lap for them. The driver’s side door opens and I turn, catching Jace’s gaze as he quickly climbs in and shuts the door against the rain.
He turns to look at me, water droplets falling from his hair onto his forehead. “What’s the plan, kid?”
“I’m not a kid anymore, Miller.”
He lifts an eyebrow, and stares at me in silence for a moment, like he’s deciding how to reply. “I know that, Willow,”he says, his voice low and hoarse. “Just tell me what we’re doing.”
“I—” I drop my gaze from his, down to the helpless little creatures snuggled together in my lap. “Well, I don’t know. If you want to just take me home, I can get my car and take them to the rescue in Portland.”
Jace slides the key into the ignition, turning it over to start the engine. “I’ll take you.”
Instead of turning the truck around, Jace heads in the opposite direction of my house. I want to tell him he’s going the wrong way, but I know Jace Miller better than I’d ever like to admit. He knows what he’s doing and if this is what he wants to do, there’s no use in trying to argue with him.
Soft music plays through the speakers and Jace appears to be hyper focused on the road. The silence stretches between us, and I wish I could say it were comfortable. It is, in a way, mainly because of the familiarity of Jace Miller. Although there’s a tension I can’t quite put my finger on. My heart pounds with anxiety at the thought of what might happen with these poor kittens.
