Chapter Ten
Every instinct Tennesseehad was to run after her, possibly tackle her to the ground, and explain to her what he’d known since pretty much the beginning.
Thatof coursethis was forever, and why did she think he was so sure about that?
But he didn’t.
He stayed where he was.He listened to her truck drive away a little too recklessly, as far as he was concerned, but he knew she’d only laugh at him if he said something like that.And as he stood there in the airy barn that she’d transformed—using her vision of what she wanted and a whole lot of help—it was as if all the rescue dogs understood the gravity of the situation, because they quieted down like they were listening too.
“It’s okay,” Tennessee told them.
He nodded toward the one he considered the leader of the rescue pack, because he was standing apart from the rest of them like he had a higher calling.Tennessee had learned that he was a mix of husky, obviously, and maybe some shepherd or possibly wolf.What Tennessee knew was that he and this dog had the same eyes.
“I’ve got this,” Tennessee assured him, and after nearly two months in Matilda’s world, it didn’t feel the slightest bit strange to him that he was having a conversation with this dog.Or even that he considered it aconversationin the first place.
The dog, who Tennessee was pretty sure would be coming home with him one of these nights, whined his agreement.Then went back to his watch.
A man after his own heart, to Tennessee’s mind.
Matilda had nailed Tennessee’s issue with pets accurately, which shouldn’t have surprised him.She was pretty talented at hitting those bullseyes.He wouldn’t have thought anyone remembered the dog he’d had when he was a kid, but naturally she did.
She’d also understood that losing Angus really had ripped Tennessee’s heart out.Angus had been the only thing that was his.The only creature who might have looked to him, but also looked out for him.He’d been sixteen when the puppy he’d picked out from a litter outside the market down in Marietta looked at him for the last time, pressed his grizzled, white muzzle into Tennessee’s hand, and blew out his last breath.
Maybe it wasn’t such a big shock that the very next thing Tennessee had done was rustle up some permanence.He and Kacey had made their plans.He’d decided that was what he needed to focus on, not pets.
And Matilda had divined this somehow, because she was magic like that.
She was magical, full stop.
He wasn’t sure why no one seemed to know that but him.Including her.
Tennessee walked outside and took a deep breath of the evening air.March was still delivering the cold and wet, with a snowstorm for good measure.He thought maybe a person had to be a Montana native to catch the faintest hint of spring in all that winter, but it was there.Faint, but there.
It always smelled like hope.
Tonight was a Wednesday and it was much lighter at nearly 6 PM than it had been some six weeks ago now, when he’d joined the LPL Club for its inaugural meeting.And had then found Matilda on his doorstep when he’d come home.For the second night in a row.
If it wasn’t a Wednesday night, he thought he probably would have chased her back to her cottage right now.Maybe even beaten her up the hill, given the mood he was in.
But even as he thought that, he decided he was happy that he had this commitment that he, by God, wouldn’t be the first to break.
Because he already knew what would happen if he followed her back home.It would be what always happened.The chemistry between them only seemed to get more intense, and it took over sometimes.Maybe too much, because it didn’t take an expert on relationships to figure out that there were some issues in need of exploring here.Or why would a woman who spent all of her free time with a man who quite clearly doted on her tell him she loved him and then take off running?
He was going to have to think about that.
And he knew he wouldn’t get much thinking done if he chased her down now.
Still, he stood outside for a while, letting the cold settle in on him while he frowned up the hill toward the Lodge.He waited until he saw the lights go on in her cottage.
Not that seeing those lights made it any easier to get in his truck and drive back down the length of the main drag to his house so he could park it outside Mountain Mama’s.Dutifully.
But he did it.
Inside, it was the usual happy atmosphere with some old-school folk music playing from the speakers and tables full of chattering neighbors.That hint of spring was making everyone excited, he figured.But he stopped at every table he passed to say hello.
Not because he thought he was the mayor.But because he knew folks, or he’d seen them around town, or he’d heard something about them through the old-timer grapevine that sat at his counter every morning and functioned like a chorus of town criers.
If Tennessee ever had the urge to become one of the town gossips, he would put the rest of them out of a job in a hurry, because he knew everything.
