Rescued Heart

by Georgia Beers

  Lisa had changed into tight-fitting, capri-length workout pants, a gray T-shirt, and sneakers. On her hands were not boxing gloves, but some kind of padded protection in black and pink. She’d hit a rhythm and her punches, combined with the shuffling of her feet, made it look more like a dance than anything else. A darker V was visible on the back of her T-shirt where she’d worked up a sweat, and Ashley could see the matted hair at the base of her neck, perspiration making it look darker than its usual gold.

  Ashley watched for a long moment, mesmerized by the movement, the rhythm, and strangely, a shockingly raw sensuality. Lisa’s arms glistened with sweat, the veins standing out, the muscles shadowed and defined. Ashley wasn’t really one for solid muscle on a woman—she liked soft and feminine—but there was something undeniably sexy about watching Lisa beat on the bag. After a few more moments, Ashley opened her mouth to let Lisa know she was there. Before she could make a sound, though, something else happened and she snapped her mouth shut.

  Lisa stopped punching.

  She wrapped her arms around the heavy bag, panting with exhaustion, leaned her forehead against it.

  And then she started to cry.

  Ashley’s eyebrows rose in surprise as she realized what was happening. She pressed a hand to her heart, feeling actual pain as she witnessed Lisa’s.

  Lisa held onto the heavy bag and sobbed. After a second or two, she slid to the floor and sat there, sobbing quietly, her back to Ashley. With a bend forward, she covered her head with her arms as emotion poured out of her.

  Ashley was torn. She wanted nothing more than to go to Lisa, to wrap her arms around her, to cradle her while she cried, murmur soft words to her, stroke her hair, simply hold her. But she also understood what an intensely private moment this was and somehow, she knew if she made her presence known, Lisa would be mortified, embarrassed beyond belief, and she did not want to be responsible for that.

  Soundlessly, she backed away from the room, quickly and quietly retraced her steps, and went back upstairs.

  ***

  Lisa felt better. The muscles in her arms and shoulders felt like wet noodles, and her knuckles sported a few broken capillaries marked by some red spots, but her head was clear and her anger had dissipated. She’d used her key to get into Jessica’s office where there was a full bath and showered off the sweat and the emotion, then changed into a spare outfit she kept at the shelter for emergencies. When she’d first started working at Junebug, she’d been surprised by the bathroom. Turns out, Jessica’s grandma June used to spend the night at the shelter on occasion and needed to be able to clean herself up in the morning, so Jessica’s grandfather built her a bathroom. There were rare occasions when Lisa had a late intake to deal with, or sometimes David was in the midst of a fundraising push. Jessica had given each board member a key so they could take advantage if need be.

  Her upper body would pay the price tomorrow, but she kind of liked that version of soreness, so she’d relish it. Feeling fresher, rejuvenated, Lisa headed back to the dog wing where the barking was still constant, but not as loud as earlier. It was after seven, and things seemed to have calmed down—at least a little. Thank God.

  She had just taken a seat at her desk when Ashley came in the back door walking a border collie/Something Undefinable mix. The dog was super friendly and lovable, so Lisa had high hopes for its adoption. Whatever the “something undefinable” was, it tempered the energy level from the border collie side. Her gaze locked with Ashley’s and she grinned, thrilled when Ashley smiled back at her.

  “How is she on the lead?” Lisa asked.

  “Not bad,” came Ashley’s reply as she unclipped the dog and put her back in her kennel. “She pulls a little, but listens well…until we saw a rabbit.”

  “That’s to be expected. She probably wanted to herd it.”

  Ashley locked the cage and strolled down toward Lisa. “How’re you doing?” she asked.

  She looked amazing and Lisa almost laughed at the thought because Ashley would be mortified to hear it. She’d come to the shelter from the bakery and she smelled like cupcakes, as usual. But the ponytail sticking out the back of her hat was one big corkscrew curl, her cheeks were rosy, and Lisa couldn’t help but notice—even during the height of the intake ruckus—that Ashley’s jeans seemed to love her ass.

  “I’m good,” Lisa replied. “You?”

  “I’m okay. Look, I’m sorry I froze earlier.” Ashley’s voice was soft and she avoided eye contact.

  “Froze?” Lisa furrowed her brow.

  “Yeah, when you yelled at me.” Ashley met her gaze now.

  “Oh. I didn’t yell.” Lisa cleared her throat, realizing with a start that she’d hurt Ashley’s feelings. “I’m sorry you felt like I did. It was just…a little crazy around here, as you clearly saw.”

  Ashley gave a slow nod. “Okay.” She inhaled slowly and said, “Well, I’m gonna hit the road. Good night.” And with that, she hurried away, leaving Lisa looking after her in confusion.

  What had just happened?

  Lisa shook her head, slightly annoyed by feeling forced into playing mind games. Ashley obviously hadn’t liked her dismissal earlier, but what was Lisa supposed to have done? Ashley had been just standing there. In the way. But not even that, so much. She’d looked…horrified by the scene unfolding in front of her, and that was no good for anyone. Maybe Lisa could’ve dismissed her in a gentler tone, but hell, she had been in the middle of dealing with vicious dogs and a jerk of an Animal Control Officer. Right then, it hadn’t been about Ashley. You’d think that would be obvious. With a shrug and another shake of her head, Lisa went back to her paperwork. She’d deal with this later.

  It was another hour before she got home, a longer night than she’d expected and Keeler relieved himself for what seemed like ten minutes when Lisa took him outside. “Sorry, buddy,” she whispered, then kissed him on the head. “Got caught up with some dog fighting victims.” Keeler looked up at her with his big brown eyes as though he completely understood and she kissed him again even as she shook her head and tried to dislodge the three pit bulls from her thoughts.

  It was one of the hardest parts of her job: leaving work at work. And part of her didn’t mind that she kept thinking about the animals long after she left the shelter; what would it say about her as a human if she didn’t? But she was usually able to at least turn the volume down a bit so she could focus on her home life instead of only work. That being said, now and then something just stuck in her brain and wouldn’t completely let go. Today, it was Kevin’s partner at Animal Control. She was going to have to say something because that man should not be handling animals.

  And on days like this, the heavy bag in the basement was a godsend.

  It had been David’s idea. About eight months ago, there had been a particularly horrific example of animal cruelty. The abused animals were collected from the home of the accused and dispersed among the local shelters. It had been horrible. Beaten, starving, terrified animals. Some were diseased. Some were beyond repair psychologically or physically or both and had to be put down. It had taken its toll on several of the workers at Junebug—a dark handful of weeks, indeed. On one particular day, Lisa had been so angry that she snapped at every single person she crossed paths with, the majority of whom did not deserve her ire. David had been walking by at a moment when Lisa was about to shred some poor volunteer to ribbons and he’d simply closed his huge hand around her elbow and steered her away without saying anything other than, “Come with me.”

  She’d gone without argument, as David was huge and imposing and wouldn’t have redirected her without cause. Plus, deep down, she knew she was being unreasonable and unfair and she also knew exactly why she was so frustrated. When they’d reached the heavy bag in the basement, she cocked her head in surprise. David had simply pointed at it and said, “That’s the abuser. Give him what he deserves.”

  Lisa had blinked at him.

  David pointed at the bag again. “H
e starved and abused nearly twenty-five animals, Lisa,” he said loudly, his voice taking on an angry edge.

  Lisa looked at the bag, threw a timid punch.

  “Really? That’s your best shot?”

  She leveled a look at him, her anger building back up.

  “I’m not the one you’re pissed at,” he said, a valid point. He gestured to the bag again. “It’s that guy.”

  This time, she balled her fist and threw a real punch.

  “Now you’re talking. Again.”

  She obeyed him as he egged her on until she was throwing punch combinations and sweat ran down her back. It didn’t take long before a pained cry worked its way up from her lungs and escaped from her throat. That was all it took. She continued to beat on the bag even as tears ran down her face and sobs ripped out of her. She threw punches until she could barely lift her arms any more. When she finally stopped and dropped her arms to her sides, feeling spent and blessedly empty of the rage, she turned to look at David. His expression of sympathy was something she’d never forget.

  “Feel better?” he asked softly.

  And she had….

  Back in the townhouse, she fed Keeler and the cats, made herself a turkey sandwich, and sat on the couch with her dinner and a glass of wine. She clicked on the TV and was twenty minutes into the latest episode of Castle when her phone beeped with a text. From her mother.

  Hi, sweetie. Just thinking about you and wanted to say hello. What are you up to tonight?

  Lisa paused the television show and reread the text. She sucked in a big breath and blew it out loudly enough to scare Clyde, who was perched on the back of the couch. She typed back.

  Hi. Long day at work. Just got home.

  Her mother’s response only took a minute.

  Just now? That IS a long day. Eat something decent for supper, okay?

  The mixed emotions Lisa felt when her mother said something like that were hard to deal with, because her first response was always warmth and happiness that her mother cared about what she was eating. It didn’t last long before that first response was bulldozed by the second response, which was always anger and irritation and she had to physically set the phone down, out of reach, to keep herself from typing back, Now you want to make sure I’m eating something decent? What about when I was twenty and trying to feed not only myself, but your sons? Where were you then? It never failed and Lisa always wondered why she hadn’t simply grown used to it. She gave herself a few moments to let the second response pass before she retrieved the phone and typed something sane.

  Turkey sandwich. I’m good.

  Lisa absently pet Tiny, who was curled up next to her thigh, as it occurred to her that the contact from her mother seemed to be getting more frequent. And were Lisa’s responses slightly less snarky? “Well, let’s not go that far,” she muttered aloud. She didn’t want to analyze this. Analyzing it meant actually thinking about it and she didn’t want to do that either. She’d grown very comfortable and familiar with her anger toward her mother. There was no desire to poke at it. She picked up the remote and started Castle up again.

  This week’s red herring character was blonde, chipper, very cute, and reminded Lisa of Ashley, which was slightly ridiculous as the actress didn’t really resemble her physically in any other way but the color of her hair. And thinking of Ashley brought her back to the earlier conversation, the look of hurt on Ashley’s face.

  She probably should have handled that differently. Better, somehow. But honestly, in that moment, she hadn’t had time to worry about somebody who froze in horror during a crisis, somebody who needed her hand held. They’d all been horrified, but they still had difficult work to do, and right then, Ashley had been the only one not up for the job. Too harsh? Maybe. Or maybe it was just reality, and reality could sometimes sting. She liked Ashley. Liked her a lot, in fact. Thought they might possibly be able to have something good together.

  But she was not going to take care of her.

  No, she wasn’t going to take care of anybody ever again.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  “This is good,” Ashley said, forcing a smile as she took another bite of her barbecued chicken.

  “Thanks.” Carly’s smile was wide. “I don’t cook a lot of things, but I can grill and I have a few go-to dishes. This is one of them.” She studied Ashley’s face as they ate. “I’m so glad you’re here. I didn’t think you were ever going to let me cook you dinner.”

  Ashley shrugged as she chuckled. “If I’d known it would be this good, I’d have come sooner.”

  Carly’s house was kind of adorable, small but the space was used very functionally. She seemed partial to green, as the walls in the living room and kitchen were both an inviting sage. The hardwood floors were white oak and a thick, soft area rug pulled the entire open floor plan together. Ashley had been impressed when she walked through and out the sliding glass door to the small deck. A bistro table was set for two, and Carly had poured her a glass of Pinot Grigio and told her to sit and talk to her while she grilled the chicken and vegetables.

  Now, they sat across from each other in the lovely Sunday evening sunshine. Carly had her portable speaker sitting on the railing playing The Piano Guys softly. The wine was smooth. The food was delicious. A bird was chirping overhead. Carly looked so happy.

  Ashley wanted to run.

  “You okay?” Carly asked, pulling her out of her own head. “You look a little pale. Still not over that bug?”

  “Not quite,” Ashley agreed, mortified at how easy it had become to lie to Carly.

  “Well, you need to take better care of yourself. You put in so many hours and you start so early at the bakery.” Carly stabbed a piece of zucchini with her fork. “Maybe you should put the shelter on the back burner for a while. Just until you feel better.”

  “Maybe,” Ashley said on a sigh. A week ago, she’d have been furious with Carly for even suggesting such a thing, but now? She thought back to Lisa, to the fear that Lisa thought she was weak, oversensitive. She hadn’t said so. Not in so many words. But Ashley could see it. Remembered the disappointed—and irritated—look on her face when Animal Control had brought those dogs in and Ashley hadn’t been able to move, the annoyed dismissal. Ashley had expected an apology later, understanding that sometimes a crisis made people say and do things they didn’t mean. And Lisa had apologized…but not really.

  So Ashley had gone home and waited for a phone call or text.

  Neither had come.

  That was three days ago.

  Throwing herself into things with Carly was probably not the best course of action, in hindsight. But here she was, eating chicken on the back deck, sipping wine, and being smiled at.

  It all made her ill.

  And angry. There was anger, if she was going to be honest. Anger because she still wanted Lisa. After everything that had happened and everything that had been said, she still wanted Lisa.

  What the hell is the matter with me?

  Ashley forced herself to return to the present where Carly was talking about her job. Smiling, she nodded like she’d been paying close attention the entire time. Tipping her wineglass up, she emptied it.

  “More?” Carly asked, pulling the bottle out of an ice bucket, one of those fancy modern ones with no ice. It just stayed in the freezer.

  “Please.” Ashley held out her glass and watched as the golden liquid filled it. Then she took a much-too-large swallow.

  “Easy there, tiger,” Carly said with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

  “What?”

  “Just…maybe not such big gulps, you know?”

  “No? Why not?” The anger was back. Ashley could feel it simmering in her gut. She tried to tamp it down, but it bubbled.

  Carly shrugged, clearly trying to avoid an argument. “No reason. Just saying.”

  “That I need to be told how to drink my wine?”

  Carly’s eyes widened. “No. Not at all. Are you sure you’re all right
? You’ve been so…different lately.”

  Had she? Well, maybe that was a good thing. She inhaled slowly, managed to calm her escalating heartbeat. “I’m sorry. I’m fine. Just…tense.”

  “S’okay.” Carly smiled, but seemed wary. “So, I was saying that I have two appointments next week with two new, really big clients…”

  And we’re off. Ashley felt bad. She did. But she’d had enough. She knew it right then. She wasn’t sure why. What she was sure of was that the sudden horrifying vision she had of a lifetime of conversation about computer equipment and being told how much wine she was allowed was enough to shake some sense into her. She set her wineglass down and cleared her throat.

  “Carly.”

  Carly looked up at her, chewing a mouthful of chicken. “Hmm?”

  “This isn’t working for me.”

  Carly’s eyebrows rose and she looked around the table at the food and wine, obviously trying to pinpoint what part of the meal Ashley was talking about. Ashley reached across the small table and closed her hand over Carly’s forearm.

  “No. Carly. This.” With her other hand, she gestured between them. “Us. We are not working for me.”

  Carly finished her mouthful of chicken in what looked like a rather painful swallow. “What? What do you mean?”

  “You’re awesome. You are. You’re kind and sweet and attractive.”

  “But?”

  “But it’s not working for me. I think we need to stop.” Ashley bit her bottom lip. “I’m sorry.”

  Carly sat back in her chair, sliding her arm from Ashley’s grasp. With a hand, she rubbed the back of her neck, eyes wide as if trying to see something she couldn’t. “Wow. I…I thought we had something here.”

  “I’m sorry,” Ashley repeated.

  Carly held up a hand. “Yeah, don’t say that again.”