As worried as she was and as scared, she was still a little girl. Her eyes began to shine a little. “Really?”
“I live at a horse rescue, but we rescue other animals, too.”
“Oh wow.”
“So, here’s who all lives there, so you know who you’re going to meet,” I said, and started to list everyone.
* * * *
We parked in the lot by the office and got out of the truck.
“It’s still really early, but let’s go into the house so we can find you something to eat.” Before we did that, I pointed across the yard. “I live in the right side cabin with Ben.”
“Your boyfriend,” she said, remembering what I’d just told her.
“Right.” I held out my hand. “Come on.”
She took my hand without hesitation, and I considered it a good sign.
I held my finger to my lips to make sure she remembered to be quiet as I opened the door.
She grinned a little, then made an immediate squeaking sound when Bucky greeted us just inside.
“This is Bucky. He’s the best boy.”
Bucky wagged his whole self at her, then licked her cheek, making her giggle.
Because I knew he got up very early, I texted Cook that we had a little guest who needed cheering up with food.
“He’s funny,” she said, watching Bucky flop on his back for belly rubs.
“He really is. Come, let’s go into the kitchen.”
She and Bucky followed me as I turned on some lights. Mona looked around at everything, seeming a bit overwhelmed at the house. I understood, she’d been living on the streets for who knew how long.
Heavy steps came from the stairs, and I knew Cook was making extra noise on purpose. For a big man, he normally moved stealthily, which must’ve been the soldier in him.
“Hey,” I said when he appeared around the corner.
“Morning.” Cook smiled, staying a few steps back so he wouldn’t crowd Mona. “I’m Jack. What’s your name?”
She looked hesitant, then glanced at me for confirmation.
I nodded at her. “This is Jack, but we normally call him Cook. He’s the chef, remember?”
She nodded back slowly. “I’m Mona.”
“Hi, Mona. What would you like for breakfast?” He walked around her and went to peer into the fridge as if he didn’t know what was in there. “Would bacon and pancakes sound good?”
Her eyes widened a little. “Do you have eggs, too?”
“How do you like yours best?”
“Scrambly with cheese.”
“How about your pancakes? With blueberries or chocolate chips?”
“Blueberries.” It sounded more like a question, as if all her food dreams were coming true, but Cook took it in stride.
