do you want?” she asked through the closed door.
“Open up.”
Seconds later, the door opened a fraction, just enough for her to poke her head through.
“I have to go out and help a rancher with a cow who has pinkeye,” he said, raising his voice above the music.
“Whatever.” She started to close the door.
“Why don’t you come along?” he asked. “It’s bound to be interesting.” And might help them bond.
She looked as if she’d rather eat worms. “What’s interesting about pinkeye?”
“In a cow, it can be dangerous. It hurts a lot more than it does in humans. An infected animal often keeps her eyes closed because of the pain. She avoids sunlight, too, and stops foraging for food and water. If she doesn’t get well quickly, she could die.”
“That’s not interesting at all.”
The door shut rudely in his face. Patience fraying, he bit back a frustrated oath. When he was in vet school, she’d loved watching him work with sick or injured animals. Not anymore. Since he’d taken Taylor in and they’d moved here, he’d made sure to invite her along on any call he made when she wasn’t in school. So far, she’d always turned him down.
“I should be back in an hour or so, but I’ll phone when I know for sure,” he said through the door. No reply. “If you want dinner while I’m gone, there’s leftover lasagna in the fridge,” he added.
Nothing but hostile silence.
His fraying patience snapped. This time he opened the door without knocking. “Did you hear what I said?”
“I didn’t say you could come in here.” Arms crossed, Taylor shot daggers out of her eyes.
“Tough. Did you hear me or not?”
“I heard.”
Seth nodded. “See you later. Get that homework done before you start texting or using FaceTime.”
“Yes, sir.” Sarcasm dripped from her words.
When he was through the door, she slammed it.
Irritated at himself for losing his cool, he scrubbed his hand over his face and headed back down the stairs. Living in the same house with an angry teenage girl was a lot tougher than he’d ever imagined.
Would she ever give him a break?
* * *
AFTER LOCKING THE shelter doors late Thursday afternoon, Emily drove toward Prosperity Park. Her mother and Bill lived on the edge of the park, and were lucky enough to have an impressive view of Prosperity Falls from their living room window. A view that had cost a bundle, but Bill was a partner in a large insurance company and could afford it.
He gave Emily’s mother whatever she wanted, and she wanted to travel. In two days, they would leave for six whole weeks, touring Spain, Portugal and France.
Emily was jealous, but in a good way. If she didn’t have the time or money to travel, at least they did. Tonight they’d invited her over for dinner and to say goodbye.
The sun was about to set and vivid pink streaks colored the paling sky. The usual rush-hour traffic filled the highway, but Emily didn’t mind. With beauty all around her and dinner plans, she couldn’t help but be happy.
Too happy for a ho-hum night with her mom and Bill. She really needed to get out more.
She parked in the driveway of the house, which was a stunning mixture of cream-colored brick, river stone and tempered glass. The landscaped yard was nothing like the trampled grass around the shelter grounds. Carrying a bottle of Spanish wine she’d picked up, she followed the flagstone walkway to the raised brick stoop, then opened the front door and let herself in.
The place was quiet. Leaving her jacket and purse in the entry, Emily headed for the living room, on the opposite side of the house. The huge space was only marginally smaller than her entire apartment, and decorated with beautiful, expensive furnishings.
Where were her mother and Bill? After stopping to admire the falls from the picture window, Emily checked the state-of-the-art kitchen. No one there, either. She peered out the sliding glass door that opened onto the back yard and patio. The grill was out and ready for action, but she didn’t see her mother or stepfather.
She set the wine she’d brought on the granite counter and returned to the living room. “Hello?” she called. “Mom? Bill? I’m here!”
“We’ll be right out!” Her mother’s muffled reply came from the direction of the master bedroom.
A long few minutes later, the couple appeared, with their arms around each other’s waists. Her mother looked slightly disheveled and radiant, and Bill wore a big grin. Emily didn’t want to think of what had put the glow in their faces. Some things were too gross to contemplate. Four years of marriage and they still acted like newlyweds.
They were insanely happy, which was wonderful. After Emily’s father had walked out and left her mom struggling to pay the bills and keep a roof over their heads, she deserved a loving man. She liked to say that Bill’s wealth was the icing on her happiness cake.
Emily didn’t care about Bill’s money. He was a good guy who really cared about her mother. She wanted a man like Bill. She’d thought she’d found him in Harvey. They’d discussed marriage and children multiple times, and she’d assumed that they would be together forever.
Then a well-known architecture firm on the East Coast had offered him a plum job. Emily hadn’t wanted to give up her beloved shelter, but she’d been ready to find her replacement so that she could go with him. Things hadn’t worked out the way she’d imagined, however. Harvey had taken his dog with him, but not Emily. She’d been single ever since.
Her mother came over to exchange cheek kisses with her. Bill gave her a hug.
“How’s the packing coming along?” she asked.
“We were just working on that, only then we got a little distracted.” Her mother and Bill exchanged meaningful glances.
He chuckled. “We sure did.”
TMI—too much information, Emily thought. She cleared her throat. “I noticed you uncovered the grill out back.”
“We’re having steak tonight.” Bill licked his lips and patted his slight paunch. “Are you hungry, Em?”
“Starving.”
“Me, too. As soon as I fix the drinks, I’ll fix the steaks.”
In the kitchen, Emily’s mother and Bill kissed as if they were about to part for days before he stepped through the sliding glass door to the patio.
Her mother watched him go with a dreamy sigh. Emily shook her head. Sometimes the lovey-dovey stuff got old. “What can I do to help?” she asked.
“Set the table and open that bottle of wine so it can breathe. I’ll heat the rolls and empty the salad into a bowl.”
While they worked, they caught up on each other’s lives, just as they had when they’d lived in the one-bedroom apartment where Emily had grown up—on the rare occasions when her mother had been home in time to help with the evening meal. Usually, Emily had prepared it alone.
Before long, Bill returned with the sizzling steaks. They sat at the kitchen table and loaded their plates.
“Are you excited about your trip?” Emily asked as they ate.
“Just a little.” Bill’s lips twitched.
He and Emily’s suddenly gleeful mother exchanged brilliant grins, and then launched into a detailed itinerary of where they were going and when. Emily had already heard most of before, but didn’t mind hearing it again. In their excitement, the two finished each