How to Rescue a Family

by Teri Wilson

  “Good for you. We just can’t tell you how much we appreciate what you’ve done,” Bunny said.

  Birdie nodded, but Amanda held up a hand. “Don’t thank me until tomorrow when we’ve successfully pulled this off. Please.”

  “Fair enough. Our thanks is officially postponed.” Birdie’s eyes twinkled in the deepening twilight. Behind her, fireflies glowed in the wooded area adjacent to the Granary. “But, sugar. No matter what happens tomorrow, you know we love you, right?”

  Then, before Amanda could prepare herself, Birdie gathered her into a hug. The unexpected contact made her throat clog. Bunny was supposed to be the touchy-feely sister, not Birdie. Birdie was strictly no-nonsense, and Amanda liked that about her. She always knew exactly where she stood with Birdie. The fact that the unflappable woman was now embracing her made Amanda keenly aware of just how much trouble the shelter must be facing.

  “I love you too. Both of you, and all the animals too.” Even the crazy love-struck Llama Bean, who might have been Amanda’s biggest competition for Ryan Carter’s heart.

  If she’d been interested in him that way.

  Which she wasn’t.

  She swallowed around the lump in her throat and squeezed Birdie in return. When the older woman released her, Amanda figured if she was ever going to press for more information about the shelter’s financial problems, now was the time. She really wanted to know what had happened to the insurance policy, but more than that, she needed to know if the situation was even more dire than she realized so she could calculate how much she needed to collect for admission. She’d planned on charging ten dollars a head for entrance to the festival, but she could bump the ticket price up to twelve or fifteen, if necessary.

  “Look.” She took a deep breath. “I don’t mean to overstep, but how has Furever Paws gotten into so much trouble? The tornado damage is bad, but...”

  “But our insurance policy should be taking care of it.” Birdie nodded. “You don’t have to say it. We know. The thing is...”

  “You don’t have insurance.” Amanda winced. “I overheard you both discussing it when I was at the shelter to walk Tucker. I should have told you I knew, but I wasn’t sure how to bring it up.”

  Bunny patted her arm. “It’s okay, we don’t mind you knowing. The only reason we haven’t mentioned it is because the whole thing is just a terrible mistake. We had insurance—had a policy for years—but Gator forgot to make the most recent payment, and he feels awful about it. The poor thing.”

  “He forgot?” Amanda blinked. “That doesn’t sound like Gator.”

  She’d only met Gator once—a few years ago when he’d come to check out the shelter after Birdie and Bunny made a few improvements to the main building. Once upon a time, he’d owned a quarter of the wooded area that bordered the section of Whitaker acres where the farmhouse stood. When Bunny and Birdie’s parents passed away, the land was handed down and split equally between the four siblings—Birdie, Bunny, Gator and their late brother, Moose.

  Moose sold his share immediately and left for Florida, where his three kids, Evie, Josie and Grant, currently lived. While Birdie and Bunny hung on to the land they’d inherited, tending to it with loving care, Gator sold his portion the minute the real estate market peaked. According to the Spring Forest rumor mill, he’d invested the proceeds wisely and was now wealthy enough to own a mansion and a yacht that he kept docked at the Outer Banks.

  He didn’t come around much anymore, but Amanda always assumed it was because he was busy managing his millions up in Durham. Certainly, the Whitaker sisters spoke of him with a great deal of pride. Birdie, in particular, doted on her baby brother. And Amanda knew that Gator was the one they trusted to handle all the money matters, both to keep the shelter running and to manage their private investments, so they’d have enough to live comfortably. Amanda had figured that he must be worthy of that trust.

  Now she wasn’t so sure.

  Maybe Birdie and Bunny shouldn’t be putting such blind trust in Gator to run their financial affairs if he couldn’t even remember to pay the insurance bill.

  Birdie smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “His business is booming. He’s been so busy with his investment firm that he simply forgot. Like Bunny said, he feels terrible about it.”

  But not terrible enough to pay for the storm damage himself? Shouldn’t he have been able to cover it if he was doing as well as his sisters seemed to believe, especially since the lapsed insurance was his fault?

  Amanda faked a pleasant expression as best she could. “I’m sure he does. Is he going to make it down for the cook-off tomorrow?”

  She wasn’t sure whether to hope he was making the trip or not. On one hand, Birdie and Bunny’s nephew Grant was coming all the way from Florida to show his support, so of course Gator should make an appearance. Durham was practically right down the highway from Spring Forest.

  On the other hand, if Gator did turn up, Amanda might be tempted to strangle him on sight.

  “No, I’m afraid not.” Birdie shook her head. “He has an important meeting that he can’t miss.”

  On a Saturday. Right. “That’s a shame. But don’t worry—the event is going to be a huge success. We’ll have the money for the storm repairs before you know it.”

  Amanda hated to make a promise she wasn’t sure she could keep, but she really didn’t have a choice. Birdie and Bunny weren’t the only ones depending on her—so were all the animals at Furever Paws who were in need of permanent homes. Life had already thrown those sweet pets a disappointing curveball, and then the tornado had been the icing on the cake.

  She couldn’t let them down.

  She wouldn’t. They deserved a shelter that was warm and dry.

  She’d fire up every grill and smoker in the South if she had to. One way or another, Furever Paws would get its new roof.

  * * *

  It was a good thing Paul had stepped up to the plate at the Grille while he was on vacation, because the morning of the barbecue fundraiser, Amanda was absolutely useless at the diner. She showed up for work, just like every other Saturday of her life, because there was nothing she could do at the Granary until the farmer’s market closed up. But she was so distracted that she switched the decaf coffeepot with the caffeinated one, resulting in a very sleepy Doc J, who nearly fell asleep face-first in his pancakes.

  That wouldn’t do at all. He’d signed on to run a free microchip clinic at the cook-off, and Birdie and Bunny couldn’t stop talking about it. Amanda needed him awake and alert.

  “Here you go, Doc.” She handed him a fresh mug filled to the brim with strong black coffee—fully leaded this time.

  He took a fortifying sip and then frowned at her. “Why don’t you sit down? You’re going to have a long day, and all this flitting around is making me nervous.”

  “I’d love to, but I can’t. There’s too much to do.” Like stare out the window for signs of rain. And wonder whether or not the tents were holding up in the cool spring breeze. And fret over whether or not the pit masters from Wilmington would arrive in Spring Forest in time to get their smokers all set up and running.

  Worrying about everything that could go wrong was practically a full-time job.

  “Amanda, darlin’. Come with me. We need to have a word.” Belle grabbed Amanda by the hand and dragged her to the kitchen. Once they were on the other side of the swinging door, she tugged on the strings of Amanda’s apron until it floated to the floor.

  “What are you doing?” She bent to pick it up, but Belle snatched it away before she could grab it.

  She wadded the fabric into a ball and pointed at the back door. “It’s my turn to fire you now. Get out.”

  Amanda rolled her eyes. “Nice try, but you can’t fire me.”

  “She might not be able to, but I sure can,” Paul said as he pushed through the swinging door carrying a
tray of empty plates.

  “Um, I don’t think so. I’m the manager, remember?”

  “And I’m the comanager,” he retorted. “For a while, anyway.”

  Point taken. “But...”

  “But you’re driving us all crazy, sis. I can handle things around here by myself. Isn’t that why you asked for my help to begin with?” He set the tray down beside the big industrial sink.

  Just as she was about to explain the three-sink dishwashing process to him, he plunged the dirty dishes into the sink on the far left—the proper choice. She paused before answering. “You’re doing a pretty incredible job so far. I’m actually kind of stunned.”

  “Gee, thanks.” He arched a brow. “But what are you still doing here? I fired you for the day, remember?”

  “Fine.” She held up her hands. “I’m going.”

  Belle winked at Paul. “Thanks. You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for her to get a dose of her own medicine.”

  “I heard that.” Amanda grabbed her handbag and slung it over her shoulder. “Promise me all of you will come down to the Granary to help set up by noon? We’re closing for the afternoon. Maybe we should put a sign on the door. It could just say Barbecue and have an arrow pointing down the street.”

  “I’m a step ahead of you, sis. I already made one. Goodbye now.” Paul gave her an exaggerated wave.

  Okay, then.

  Amanda slipped out the back door and closed it firmly behind her. Paul and Belle were right. They could survive without her for half a day. Not spending every spare hour at the Grille was just such a foreign concept, she was having trouble wrapping her mind around it. Even when she’d been hammering out the details for the fundraiser, she’d made all the necessary calls from her tiny office off the kitchen.

  She hummed as she rounded the corner onto Main and checked the sky—yet again—for signs of rain. There wasn’t a gray cloud in sight. So far, so good. Maybe she’d go ahead and dash over to the Granary to see if there was anything she could do while the farmer’s market was still in full swing.

  Somehow, though, when it came time to veer toward the old grain factory, Amanda’s feet willfully disobeyed. In just a few short strides, she found herself turning onto the sidewalk that led to Kingdom Creek and a certain homey cottage with a big window in the kitchen that looked out over a backyard with a tire swing.

  When she reached Ryan’s front porch, the tips of her fingers hesitated over the doorbell. This sort of unannounced visit was different than the little breakfast visits she’d been making every morning. Those encounters had all been preplanned, scheduled events. Not dates, obviously. They’d been innocent dog training sessions...with breakfast.

  But the addition of sticky buns or homemade butter biscuits drizzled with Carolina honey didn’t make the visits into anything remotely date-like. Food was her business, and Ryan was a single dad. He’d come right out and admitted that he was a terrible cook, and he and Dillon needed to eat.

  But now here she was, about to ring his doorbell at a random, nonscheduled time without so much as a strip of bacon to serve as a good excuse.

  Nope.

  Her stomach flipped.

  She couldn’t do it. She withdrew her hand from the bell and turned to go, but the front door swung open before she could take a step.

  “Going somewhere?” There was a hint of amusement in Ryan’s voice, but it still had the deep timbre that always seemed to reach down inside her and make her want to crawl under his covers and ask him to read her a bedtime story.

  Because that was a completely normal, friendly reaction.

  She turned around, face aflame. “Hi.”

  “Hi, yourself.” He opened the door wide, and to her immense relief, he didn’t ask what she was doing there unannounced or mention the fact that he’d just caught her on the verge of running away. Again. “Come on in.”

  She stepped over the familiar threshold and the minute she was inside, Tucker bounded toward her with a sock in his mouth.

  “Look at you.” She shook her head and scooped him into her arms. “Up to your old tricks.”

  “I gave him that sock. It belongs to him now, fair and square. He absolutely didn’t steal it from the laundry room while running around unsupervised.” Ryan crossed his arms and nodded in mock solemnity.

  Amanda narrowed her gaze. “Are you lying right now so I won’t tease you about being a pushover like most first-time dog owners?”

  “Perhaps.”

  Laugher bubbled up her throat. What had she been so nervous about? They were talking and joking around, like they always did.

  Like friends.

  Her smile wobbled ever so slightly. Who was she kidding? She didn’t want to be Ryan Carter’s friend. She wanted more than that...so much more.

  She wanted to kiss him again. She wanted to rest her fingertips on his solid wall of a chest and feel the pounding of his heart grow quick as his lips came down on hers. She wanted to slide her hands beneath one of those soft cashmere sweaters he’d taken to wearing and move them along his back until he groaned into her mouth.

  She wanted it so badly that she could barely see straight.

  She swallowed hard and did her best not to stare at his mouth, failing miserably. “No lectures today, since this isn’t an official dog training session.”

  “No?” He took a step closer to her, searching her gaze. And suddenly any and all traces of amusement in his eyes disappeared, and he was looking at her with an expression so heated, so aching, that a lump formed in her throat. “What is it, then?”

  How was she supposed to answer that question?

  She drew in a long breath. “I thought maybe we could all go to the cook-off together.”

  She bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from adding a disclaimer about it being a friendly outing. Surely the words would ring false when he was standing close enough for her to smell the clean, woodsy scent of his aftershave. God, it was heavenly. She almost wanted to ask him what kind it was so she could buy some and spritz it on her pillow at night.

  Pathetic.

  Was this normal? Did all crushes eventually develop into something this intense? Maybe the intensity of it meant it would burn out quickly...but somehow she doubted it.

  “I’d like that very much.” He lifted a hand, and at first she thought he was reaching toward the dog in her arms, ready to give Tucker a pat or a scratch on the chin.

  But instead, he gently tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. A shiver coursed through her as his hand came to rest on her neck, and he smiled a smile she’d never seen on his lips before. A knowing smile. A private smile, just for her.

  It was a gift as precious as a diamond. When he’d first moved to town, Amanda had waited days...weeks...for Ryan Carter to smile at her. Even after she’d begun helping him with Tucker and his trademark brooding expression had relaxed into something far more welcoming, there was still a hesitancy about the way he looked at her. His features were just a tiny bit strained, as if every time he smiled, he felt like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t.

  Not this time, though. Everything about his expression, from the heat in his brandy-hued eyes to the curve of his lips was deliberately welcoming—freely given and so steeped in intention that her heart skittered to a stop.

  Ever so slightly, she lifted her mouth toward his. An invitation.

  Her subconscious was screaming at her, telling her to stop. This isn’t what friends do. But it was too late. Her eyes drifted closed, and wild horses couldn’t have stopped her from kissing him right then. Nothing could.

  Except a certain childish voice.

  “Hi, Amanda.”

  Dillon.

  Her eyes flew open, and she barely had time to register the fact that Ryan’s mouth was just a whisper away from hers before the two of them leaped apart from one
another.

  Amanda stumbled backward against the closed door, but managed not to drop poor Tucker, whose furry little head was swiveling back and forth between her and Ryan as if the dog was trying to figure out why they were acting so nutty.

  “Hey, bud.” Ryan ruffled Dillon’s hair. “We didn’t hear you coming. You...ah...surprised us.”

  Understatement.

  Amanda had enough trouble letting her guard down long enough to kiss Ryan without an audience. Something told her that doing so in front of his troubled son might not be the best idea in the world.

  She didn’t know what to say or how to act. For once, she wished she was back at the Grille making her grandmother’s flavor-challenged meat loaf recipe that her mom insisted she keep serving.

  At the sight of Dillon, Tucker suddenly squirmed to get down, and Amanda was immensely grateful for something to do. She set his wiggling little body on the ground and he scurried toward the boy.

  Dillon laughed as the dog threw himself at his feet.

  “Maybe we should get going,” Ryan said, looking anywhere and everywhere except at her.

  She cleared her throat. “Good idea.”

  After all, wasn’t she supposed to be planning a major community event today instead of attempting a make out session with her friend?

  Indeed she was.

  Chapter Nine

  Ryan did what he could to help get everything set up for the barbecue cook-off, but in truth, there wasn’t much for him to do. Amanda had organized the event down to the smallest detail. As soon as the farmer’s market shut down, business owners from the quaint establishments up and down Main Street flooded the old grain factory to set up booths ranging from a cake walk run by the folks from Great American Bakery to Snap Pop Candy Shop’s Wheel of Fortune. Before the event officially started, Dillon had already spun the wheel enough times to win three lollipops and the ultimate treasure—a packet of gummy sharks. Tucker never left his side.