She opened one eye when she heard Brendan snicker. “Is it working?”
“That is the worst spell I’ve ever heard.”
“Oh,” she said, widening her eyes innocently. “Have you heard many?”
“Thankfully, no.”
“Why don’t you try?”
He seemed to debate for a moment. Why did her heart begin to beat faster when he gave in to it, too? To the invitation of life not being so serious. A smile tugged at the corners of that sinful mouth.
“How about a carrot instead of an incantation?” he suggested.
“If he was starving, we might have a hope. As you know, since you’ve been doing it, he’s quite well fed. Still…” she went to the fridge at the end of the aisle, removed a bag and handed Brendan a carrot “…we can try. If it doesn’t work today, it might work by midweek.”
They went back down the aisle, her on one side, him on the other, peering under cages.
“Now that Deedee’s feeling better, is she going to make a decision? Is she going to take Charlie home? Or to the vet?” Nora asked.
“She has her own ideas, as always, none of which involve relieving you of Charlie. She seems to have come for a visit. Luke and she were in deep conversation when I left.”
“Luke and Deedee? Seriously?”
“Seriously. Hey! Here he is! Here bunny, bunny, bunny.” Brendan was down on his knees again, peering under a sink. As she watched, reluctantly enchanted by a man willing to wreck a thousand-dollar suit for a rabbit, he held out the carrot in the palm of his hand. Valentine edged toward him, he made a move to grab him and the bunny leaped sideways and hopped away.
“He’s waving his tail at me. Like a middle finger. Wow. Even I can read his energy.”
Nora giggled. Brendan turned and glared at her, but a smile lurked in his eyes. “Let’s see if he’ll fall for the bait again.”
Really, she knew if they left the rabbit alone, he’d eventually get hungry and come out. But it was too fun trying to catch him with Brendan.
Together they chased that bunny all over the barn, acting silly, making faces, doing voices, crawling under cages, and in and out and over obstacles. They called suggestions to each other, and whispered plans, as if he could overhear them, and they laughed at Valentine’s impudence.
Finally, they had him.
“Companies pay money for this,” Brendan said. “It’s called team building.”
It occurred to her they had been a team. And it had felt good. Why was it every time She was with him something happened that made her feel the delicious if guilty pleasure of not being alone?
Now she focused on him and the bunny. She could tell a lot about a person from how he handled an animal.
For a moment Brendan looked as if he intended to hand Valentine to her.
But then his expression softened, and he held the bunny firmly in the palm of his hand, his fingers tapered over the rib cage. He pulled him in close to his chest, stroking Valentine’s snubby little nose with one gentle fingertip.
There was something about watching a strong man with a fuzzy bunny that could melt a person’s heart. Nora felt some terrible weakness unfurl in her at his tenderness with Valentine, in his decision to come into the light. She was annoyed with herself for feeling as if she had unintentionally given Brendan a test, and she was just as annoyed that he had passed.
“Okay, I think I remember where the little monster lives.” He put Valentine back in the cage, closed the door and turned to her.
“Deedee’s not going to take him home. I figured it out. She can’t bear the thought of being with Charlie when he dies. Though I guess we’re all wondering if he’s going to die at all. He keeps improving.”
“It’s temporary.”
“You sound certain of that.”
“I am. I wish Luke wouldn’t have taken it on. He’s setting himself up for heartbreak.”
“And he’s had enough,” Brendan guessed softly. “And so have you.”
The look in his eyes was the one she had seen that rainy night when she had come to in the horse pen, when she had reached up and touched his cheek in welcome.
A person could drown in a look like that, throw herself willingly into those deep pools of understanding.
Instead, she congratulated herself for trying to back off.
“When you work with animals that are unwell, you expect a certain amount of grief. I’ve developed strategies for not getting attached. I don’t name any of the animals.”
“You named Lafayette.”
She could say he had come named, but he hadn’t. “Who would get attached to him?” she said, a bit defensively.
“How about Valentine?”
“Okay, so the odd one slips by my guard. But now that I have this beautiful facility, I don’t ever let animals in the house. To prevent attachment, and also, where would you draw the line?”
“But Luke has Charlie in the house. And Ranger.” She bit her lip. “I know I should be stricter.”
“But you took it as a good sign that he cared about something,” Brendan guessed, and then reached forward and brushed her hair away from the bump on her head. “He cares about you. He told me he woke you up every hour on the hour.”
“He did.”
“And how are you feeling?”
“Exhausted.”
“Funny, you didn’t look exhausted when I came in.”
She blushed, remembering that he had caught her dancing.
“In fact,” he said, cocking his head, listening to the music blaring, “don’t we have some unfinished business? Didn’t you ask me to dance?”
Her mouth fell open. Of course she had not asked him to dance! He knew she had been talking to the bunny! What was he doing?
What was she doing? Because she found herself playing along, again. Boldly, almost daring him, she held out her hand.
Come, then, into the light.
And felt as if the bottom was falling out of her world when he took it. Because it was only then that she recognized what darkness she had been in.
Grieving her sister. And Vance’s abandonment when she’d needed him most. Weighed down by extra responsibility. Wanting desperately to be everything Luke needed, and knowing in her heart she had been falling short.
She took Brendan’s hand and smiled at him, and it felt as if for the first time in a long, long time that smile was coming straight from her heart.
What was he doing? Brendan asked himself.
Ever since that first smile had tickled her lips, a desire had been growing in him, and it felt as if his fate was sealed when she’d giggled today. When she’d laughed, chasing that bunny through the barn.
Brendan was not sure he could ever find his way to the light, or if the light could ever penetrate the darkness around him. He was not even certain he wanted it to, because it could mean the loss of the grip he had on the pool of pain inside of him.
Still, watching the cat change, watching Charlie playing, seemed nothing short of a miracle. What had he started to believe?
However nebulous he was about what he wanted for himself, Brendan was aware of what he wanted for Nora. He wanted to make that light go on in her. He wanted