Relief hit hard enough to make Millie sway.
He shut the door behind him and shrugged out of his jacket. “It was nothing. One of the kennel latches gave a little, probably from the cold. I think the sound of it set the dogs off. Max and I fixed it.”
Her shoulders loosened, breath coming easier than it had since the dogs started barking.
Naomi studied Caleb’s face a beat longer then nodded. “Good. I figured it wasn’t a big deal.”
Caleb’s gaze found Millie’s. “Let me show you where you’ll be staying tonight—unless Naomi already did.”
“I was just getting around to it,” Naomi said.
“Then follow me.” Caleb motioned toward the stairs. “I know you must be tired.”
Millie and Biscuit followed him to the top.
“How long have you owned this place?” Millie asked as they walked down the hallway.
Caleb slowed. “It was Sarah’s—she was my oldest sister. She died three years ago and left the property to my family.”
Something twisted in Millie’s chest. She remembered when she and Caleb were together that Sarah had been married. He’d always spoken of his oldest sister with pride.
Millie knew that kind of loss didn’t loosen its grip easily—especially in a family as close as his.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I never met her, but I remember how you talked about her. She sounded wonderful.”
“She was.” He stopped at the last door.
Millie sensed there was more to the story, but she didn’t ask. Not now.
Caleb pushed the door open, and she peered inside, Biscuit hurrying in front of her and sniffing the perimeter.
The room was small but warm, with a neatly made bed and an olive-green and beige quilt folded at the foot. Lamplight glowed against the walls, and a dog bed stretched in the corner, already set out.
Everything felt . . . intentional and welcoming.
“This is your room,” Caleb said. “Max already brought your bags up. You should be comfortable here, but if there’s anything you forgot or that you need, let us know. At least one of us takes a trip into town a couple times throughout the week. We can pick up things for you.”
“It’s beautiful.”
“Sarah studied interior design, and her husband was an architect. A lot of time and thought went into building and decorating this place.”
“That explains why this house looks like it belongs in a magazine.”
“She had a real talent.”
“I agree.” She scanned the room again before nodding and glancing at Caleb. “Thank you for letting me come here.”
“I’m glad you’re here. It’s getting late, so I’ll finish intake tomorrow if that’s okay with you.”
“Of course.”
“Just to reassure you, the house is kept secure at night. The alarm will be set. If any doors or windows open, I’ll be notified.”
She let out a breath and tried to relax. “Good to know.”
His gaze remained on her a moment longer, an unreadable emotion lingering in the depths of his eyes. Unspoken conversations hovered between them.
But neither brought up the past. Not now. Maybe not ever.
