She crouched beside the first run, resting her forearm against the fence.
Her voice dropped, instinctively gentle as she addressed Porgy, an overweight beagle. “Well, you look like you’ve got opinions.”
The dog’s ears lifted. His body eased.
A smile tugged at Caleb’s mouth. Millie had always had a gift for disarming the wary. He’d seen it the first Sunday she’d visited Grace Community—she’d arrived alone, looking uncertain. By the time the service ended, she’d been laughing with half the congregation.
He’d introduced himself in the parking lot, and when she’d smiled at him, he’d felt like he’d been sucker-punched.
It had been the best sucker-punch of his life.
“Tell me about Hamilton,” Millie said as she moved on to the next kennel. “How long have the two of you been together?”
“I adopted him when I got out of the military,” he told her.
“Oh, yeah?”
Everything in his life had felt untethered at the time. His sister had just died, he’d left the only career he’d known, and he was trying to figure out who he was outside the uniform.
“A friend suggested I should get a dog,” Caleb continued. “I went to a local rescue, and one of the workers there told me that Hamilton had been surrendered by a military family during a PCS move.”
She paused from petting the lab and looked at him, eyebrows raised in curiosity.
“I guess you could say I saw something of myself in a dog who’d lost his purpose and his people. We’ve been rebuilding together.”
“That sounds really special.”
As emotion began to clog his throat, he knew he needed to distract himself.
He began checking the clipboards near each kennel, making sure everything had been checked off for each dog—food, water, any medications or special needs. Kendra had been here earlier to help, but she’d already left for the day.
As he did that, Millie moved from run to run, checking water bowls, offering quiet words, letting the dogs come to her instead of reaching first. They responded without hesitation—tails wagging, noses pressing close, a few leaning hard against the gate as if desperate for attention from Millie.
This was the Millie he remembered.
Careful. Attentive. The kind of person animals instinctively trusted.
He’d always feared her kindness might be mistaken for weakness. That someone cruel might take advantage of her.
His jaw tightened at the thought. It sounded like her ex-husband had done just that.
Just as he’d wondered last night, he again asked himself: Had God brought them back together for a reason?
Not romance. Caleb didn’t dare name that. But maybe for understanding. For closure. For something that had been left unfinished.
The idea of asking for her forgiveness edged into his thoughts. Forgiveness for leaving the way he had. For never explaining.
But he couldn’t explain why now. It was too soon. She was too fragile with too much going on.
Still, the thoughts pressed on him. He hadn’t slept well last night because he’d been thinking about things too much.
Millie straightened from where she’d been crouched near a kennel, and she glanced at him. “I’m just curious. How do you keep the house secure with people dropping off and picking up their dogs?”
He put his clipboard back near one of the runs and stepped closer. “We have separate systems set up. Kennel traffic enters on the other side of the property, without access to the house or living area. We have cameras on the perimeter and keypad access after hours.”
“And the locals?” She protectively crossed her arms over her chest. “What do they think this place is?”
He shrugged. “Most think we’re just a rescue and boarding facility. They know we run a nonprofit retreat center at the house. We don’t give them any reason to suspect anything beyond that.”
