5. Finley

5

FINLEY

I woke the next day bright and early, excited to pack up my things and get moved into my new room. By eight, I was ready to go. Mrs. Galloway was asleep, so I left her a note that I'd be by to check on her later in the week and to call me if she needed anything. My heart was heavy with guilt as I walked to my car.

However, putting others before my own needs was not the way to contentment but resentment. Sometimes, it meant a year in a jail cell. I had to take care of myself. No one else would; that was clear.

I shook off those thoughts as I set out for the ranch. The day was bright and crisp, with the autumn leaves a stark contrast against the blue sky. Soon, I was heading down the driveway to the house. Soren had sent one of his four-word texts earlier.

Park in the garage.

I'd packed two suitcases and a few boxes. Since leaving behind my life in England, I'd vowed to live simply and without a lot of possessions. Partly because I'd had no home here in which to accumulate items, but also because I lost everything I owned when I went to jail.

It was just as well. I didn't want anything to remind me of that terrible time. Not that it helped. There wasn't a day since I was released that I hadn't thought of Danielle or what she'd done. The year of horrors in jail would stay with me for the rest of my life.

I knew the Moon house well, as I'd spent a lot of time there since I'd started working at the ranch. From the trunk of my car, I grabbed one of the suitcases and headed toward the door that led from the garage to the mudroom. The mudroom had two entrances: one to the outside and another that opened into the garage.

What I found upon opening the door was not what I'd expected. Soren laying on the floor in a sleeping bag. Next to him? A dog with a bandaged front leg fast asleep on a pile of blankets.

What in the world?

I stared at the scene for a moment or two, taking in Soren's mussed hair and the way he slept curled up on his side. He looked younger and more vulnerable asleep than he ever had awake. His muscular form was evident even under the sleeping bag, and I had a sudden urge to climb in there with him. What would it feel like to be crushed up against that body? Good, I imagined. Not that I wanted to, for real. It was only loneliness that had me thinking of things I shouldn't. It had been a long time since I'd been with a man. Not since James, my boyfriend, when I'd been arrested. He'd run away as fast as was humanly possible.

How should I get around them without waking them? They occupied most of the walking space. While I contemplated this dilemma, Soren stirred. He sat up, rubbed his eyes, and then looked up to see me standing there. He jumped to his feet.

"Good morning. You'll have to excuse me," Soren said. "I overslept."

The dog had awakened too but not risen, simply lifted his head briefly to take me in and apparently finding me acceptable, wagged his tail.

"What are you doing on the floor?" I asked. "And when did you get a dog?"

"This boy showed up on my porch last night. He was in bad shape. Arabella fixed him up and gave him some painkillers, but I was worried to leave him alone."

I set my two suitcases just inside the door, unsure what to make of any of this.

"Do you like dogs?" Soren asked.

"Doesn't everyone like dogs?"

"Anyone with a good heart."

"Does he happen to be staying permanently?" I asked.

"I'm not sure." A sheepish flush traveled up his neck. "He's got no one."

"It appears he has you," I said.

"Right. I couldn't let him sleep here all alone his first night."

"I wouldn't even think of suggesting such a heinous act. Is he always so mellow?"

"I doubt it. I've got him on pain meds, so he's a little loopy. But the poor boy was beaten up pretty bad."

I knelt beside the dog and stroked his head softly. "Does he have a name?"

"Not yet."

"He'll need a name if he's staying with us," I said.

"Agreed. But we have to get to know him better first." He gestured toward my bag. "Do you have more in the car?"

"Yes, but I can get them later."

"No, I'll help you take everything upstairs. Then I need to make some coffee. I didn't sleep well on this floor. I must be getting soft in my old age."

A quick glance at his rock-hard butt in those sweats and I begged to differ. I kept that to myself.

Fifteen minutes later, all of my things were in my new bedroom, the dog had been fed, and I'd made toast—my favorite food—while Soren brewed a pot of coffee.

"I love toast," I said.

Soren seemed to agree because he'd devoured two pieces one after the other. While we had our breakfast, the dog limped over and collapsed at Soren's feet, spent by the effort. I hadn't noticed before, but he had a couple of slashes on his tummy.

"Do you think a coyote got him?" I hadn't lived in Montana long, but even I knew that they were serious predators when it came to dogs and cats. Not to mention their horrible howls in the middle of the night.

"That would be my guess."

"Ugh. Poor dog." I shivered just thinking about it.

"You cold?" Soren asked.

Surprised he'd noticed, I shrugged. "No, just thinking about coyotes and how much they scare me."

"They tore him up pretty good."

"I wonder how he survived?" I asked, musing out loud.

"Don't know. But he wouldn't have made it much longer on his own. I'm glad he found his way to me."

"He's attached to you already." I gestured toward the pup next to Soren's feet.

"I rescued him, so he's bonded to me."

"How did you know he was out there?" I asked.

"I heard him crying. Broke my heart. I can't stand to hear animals suffer."

"How can a person just abandon their dog?" I asked. "It's a terrible person who would do that. I mean, leaving them at a shelter is one thing, but tossing them into the wilds of Montana is quite another."

"Agree." He sipped from his coffee mug. "Will you keep an eye on him while I go out to the barn? It's my day off, but I just hired a new ranch hand and should check up on him."

"I'd be happy to. But I don't know anything about dogs, so don't be too long."

"You got it."

With that, he was off to get showered and dressed. Although I itched to unpack and settle into my new room, I decided to wait. It would not bode well for our compatibility as roommates if anything happened to the dog on my watch. I was fairly certain Soren liked the dog better than me, and I didn't want to give him any further reasons to do so.

I sat on the floor next to the dog. He blinked his eyes at me, encouraging me to stroke his ears. "Hey boy, how you feeling?" Despite his fluffy fur, I could see his rib bones. "We need to fatten you up, don't we?"

He ambled to his feet, avoiding pressure on his hurt leg. For a moment, he looked at me, then unsteadily plopped into my lap, whimpering softly. The gashes on his stomach had stitches in them. I hoped it was all right for him to be moving around.

"You like laps?" I asked, stroking his head. He was a medium-sized dog, probably weighing in around forty pounds, with fluffy yellow fur and big green eyes.

He propped his chin on my knee and let out a shuddering sigh. His ears flickered as he closed his eyes and appeared to fall back asleep.

"What's your story, huh?" I asked softly. "Are you lost or abandoned? I was both before I came here. The Moon family knows how to take care of people and dogs, so you're in good hands now."

We sat together for another fifteen minutes. I had a paperback in my knapsack and managed to retrieve it without disturbing my new friend. While he slept, I read, content to act as his chair if that's what he needed to help him get better.

Soon, Soren came down, dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt. His closely cropped hair was damp, and he smelled of a spicy aftershave. "What's this? You're taking your job seriously, I see." He gestured to the dog on my lap.

I grinned. "He came to me. Not the other way around. I'd like that stated for the record."

He didn't comment further other than to say he had to run out to the barn but would be back soon. "I'm assuming you'd like to unpack and get settled."

"No, I can stay with him," I said. "Unpacking can wait."

"You don't have to sit here with him all day, but just check on him every hour or so. Arabella said she'd come out later and see how he's doing."

"Okay, no problem. I'll unpack but keep a close watch."

Soren grabbed his cowboy hat and a light jacket and was out the door. Gingerly, I extracted the dog from my lap and placed him back on the pile of soft blankets Soren had laid out for him. "I'll come back in a bit, okay?"

His tail wagged before he curled up into a ball and returned to sleep.

I went upstairs to my room, pleased with the large sunny space. Bay windows with a cozy seating nook looked out at the Rockies. A great reading spot, I thought. The bed had been made up with a freshly washed quilt and sheets that smelled slightly of fabric softener. A flat-screen television hung on the wall opposite the bed. Two easy chairs were placed side by side by the other window. This had been Stella and Jasper's room. Had they sat there together during cold winter nights and chatted or read?

Envisioning the sweet scene made my eyes sting. Would I ever have that with someone? Or would I be alone forever? Better alone than in prison, I reminded myself. I was free here in Big Sky Country. During my incarceration, I'd only wanted out, with no thought to the future. Now, however, I realized how lonely the nights were and how much I wished I had someone special to share them with.

Never mind that. I had to get on with it, like so many of the women I'd known growing up. They'd had no time for pity parties, and I didn't either.

Soon, I had some of my clothes hung up in the spacious closet and the rest folded and put away in the dresser. I didn't have much, so it took no time at all. For work, I'd invested in a pair of black trousers and a pencil skirt, which I paired with various blouses or sweaters. Other than that, I only had a few pairs of jeans, shorts, and tees. Being unencumbered by personal items was strangely liberating. Not that it had been by choice, but when I'd gotten out of prison, I had only the clothes I'd come in with and a few sentimental items I'd brought with me.

My thoughts drifted to the weeks after I'd been let out of prison. Despite being proved innocent and let go, my life was in shambles. My boyfriend had dumped me shortly after I'd been arrested. Friends from work no longer picked up the phone when I called or texted. The landlady at my flat in London had either tossed or sold my belongings. A change was needed. But what? And where?

At first, I did not intend to make such a big change—moving across the ocean was no small feat. However, after only a few weeks alone and without direction, I sat down one night in the one-room apartment I was renting by the day, poured myself a glass of wine, and pulled up Google Maps.

I made a list of all the places I'd read about in books and found them on the map. The latest mystery series that had caught my fancy was set in western Montana. I enjoyed the description of the setting. I wouldn't mind seeing a real-life cowboy instead of just reading about them. Anyway, I'd always been enamored with America, specifically its western states. On a whim that very night, I decided to search for hotel jobs in Montana.

Everything seemed to unfold like magic. I saw the job listing for Crescent Moon Ranch on a recruitment site. I'd contacted Thad through email, attaching my résumé, and explaining the last few years of my life and asking if he would be interested in speaking over the phone. I left nothing out, figuring it was easy enough for him to look me up online and read the whole sordid story anyway. I had little hope of hearing back from him, but it was worth a try.

To my surprise, Thad wrote back right away. We had a video interview the very next day. Thad and I had hit it off immediately. Still, I had no hope of actually being offered the job. My past was too complicated, especially for a family-run business. A wholesome one at that.

When he offered me the job, he told me how moved he'd been by my plight and felt strongly that I deserved a second chance. I could scarcely believe my luck.

I accepted the job but asked him to please keep my prison time to himself. It was such a long story, and I didn't want to have to explain it to people. I'd deleted all social media accounts before I started my fifteen-year sentence and decided to leave them that way. My main priority at that point was to make sure Danielle couldn't find me. Even if I didn't list my location, other clues often gave people away, including landmarks and businesses. I didn't want to take any chances.

However, after I'd been working at the ranch for a while, I'd learned I wasn't the only one with a past I wished to escape. I wasn't the only ranch staff member starting over. Like me, Elliot and Sammie had reasons for remaining hidden, too.

As much as I wished they hadn't had to endure hardships in their pasts, Elliot, Sammie, and I had bonded over our troubles. I'd started to trust them and the Moon family. Now, everyone that I cared about here at the ranch knew my full story, and I was glad. In fact, they'd been nothing but supportive.

Other than Soren, he was just kind of in the background, giving me disapproving stares until recently. Had he changed his mind about me? He must have if he invited me to live with him.

Since it was my day off, I spent the afternoon keeping a close watch on the dog, who really needed a name, or I was going to start thinking of him as Dog.

By the middle of the day, hunger forced me into the kitchen. I took a good look in the refrigerator and didn't see much in the way of actual food. Other than a few random items in the fridge, there were three overly ripe bananas on the counter. My sweet tooth cried out for banana bread.

"Should I make some, Dog?" I asked.

He lifted his head and then started toward me, slowly limping. When he reached me, he sat back on his haunches and stared up at me, wagging his tail in what I would describe as a hopeful manner. It occurred to me that he might be as hungry as me.

"Poor mite. Do you want some lunch too?" I found cans of wet food in one of the cupboards in the mudroom and opened one for him. He slurped it up in the time it took me to put the can in the recycling. "How about a bathroom break?"

Dog nodded and walked toward the door. "You're really doing well with only three legs, Dog. So clever of you."

I stepped out to the back porch and held the door for Dog to come. It took him a while to reach me, but he made it there eventually. The stairs down from the porch, however, would present a problem. "I'm going to have to take you down there, aren't I?"

He wagged his tail. I lifted him as carefully as I could, worried to break open his stitches, and placed him onto the ground covered with autumn leaves. While he did his business, I wandered around the yard. Set not far from where the guest bungalows and the restaurant were located, the original farmhouse paid homage to the working ranch it had once been. When I'd first arrived, I'd been amazed to learn the house wasn't used for guests. Instead, three of the five brothers lived there.

Dog finished and wandered over to let me know. I used one of the plastic poo bags from the stash in my pocket to clean up what he'd left behind. We were a dog-friendly ranch and kept bins for disposing of doggy waste in several places. I hurried over to toss my package aside.

Dog nudged me with his chin toward the house. I'd not put on a jacket and had grown chilled in the crisp autumn air, thus was only too happy to take him up the stairs and into the mudroom.

Back in the kitchen, I snooped around the pantry to see what I could make for lunch but found nothing. When Soren got home, I'd go to the store and get some supplies. This was certainly a bachelor pad if there ever was one.

For now, I'd heat up some day-old banana bread Elliot had sent me home with from the restaurant. I'd make a cup of tea and maybe even sit in the family room to read. Yet doing so made me feel strange. It did not feel like my home but perhaps that would change over time.

I'd just finished putting a loaf of banana bread in the oven when the doorbell rang. It was Arabella, here to check up on Dog. I let her in and took her back to the mudroom while filling her in on all the details of the day.

"What are you doing here?" Arabella asked, clearly surprised. "And why does it smell so heavenly?"

"I've moved into Sammie and Chloe's room."

"Right. They've moved out to their own house."

"Correct. Soren offered me their room, which I was only too happy to accept. As for the smell, I put some of Elliot's banana bread in the oven."

"I love her banana bread."

"Would you like some? I could slice you a piece and make you a cup of tea."

"No, I never eat stuff like that."

I flinched. "Why not?"

"I used to be fat. When I was a kid. Ask the boys, they'll tell you I was a real butterball." A hint of hurt and bitterness made her voice crack.

"Well, you certainly aren't fat now." Tall and slim, with the presence of a queen, she was more than a little intimidating.

"Thanks. I have to watch it. Even with my active lifestyle, I can't eat anything superfluous, or I gain weight."

"Superfluous?"

"Anything that doesn't give me nutrients is out."

"Probably a good policy," I said, thinking about how much I would miss sweets if I treated my body better.

"I can understand why you'd rather live here." Arabella tucked a strand of her dark hair behind her ear. "Mrs. Galloway's couldn't have been particularly bright."

"No, not too much. She's such a sweet lady, though, I felt bad leaving her. She's really lonely."

"Yes, well, we all have to do what's best for ourselves, as cold as that sounds. Now, how's our rescue this afternoon?" Arabella asked, setting her medical bag on the floor. "Has he been licking his stitches?"

"No, not that I've seen."

"Good boy." Arabella took a stethoscope from the bag and knelt beside Dog. "Has Soren named him?"

"Not yet, but I've started thinking of him as Dog with a capital D ."

I headed back to the kitchen to let her do her thing and put the kettle on in case she changed her mind and wanted a cup of tea.

A few minutes later, she'd finished and returned to the kitchen. "He's still pretty knocked out from the painkillers," Arabella said. "Which is good because it's keeping him still. Sleeping is the best thing he can do right now."

"Would you care for tea?" I asked.

"Is it true what they say about the English? That you love your tea?"

"Yes, it's true. There's nothing so bad a cup of tea won't make it better." Actually, that wasn't true. Tea would not have made anything better on the day they came to arrest me. But then again, what could have? Other than arresting the right twin.

Arabella declined my invitation, saying she had to get back to her office. "Some other time, though?"

The sincerity, in combination with a twinge of sadness in her tone, made me wonder about her home life. I knew her father had dementia. She'd hired someone to stay with him during the day, which told me how sick he was.

I showed her out, promising to get together soon and to call her if Dog had any setbacks.

Watching from the window as she walked down the path toward her car, I said a little prayer for our favorite veterinarian. I had a feeling she needed it.