Fragile Sanctuary (Sparrow Falls Book 1)

A cacophony of birdsong filled the air as I opened my SUV door. Grinning, I slid out and shut the door behind me. I loved working first shift at the nursery. Thanks to all the plants around us, we could’ve doubled as a bird sanctuary.

Three swooped through the air, landing on a display of shrubs near the front. They chattered back and forth in their bird-speak as the early sun streamed over the horizon. A chill still clung to the air, but I had my thick Bloom & Berry Nursery sweatshirt to keep me warm. The same one I’d had since junior year of high school. It was just the right amount of worn while somehow managing to hold on to a bit of its cozy softness.

Another bird let out an especially shrill call, and I winced. “A little early for that, don’t you think?”

It seemed to stare at me in judgment.

I chuckled and pushed off my SUV, heading for the main greenhouse. We had several on the property. Bloom wasn’t a small operation. Duncan’s family had been running it for generations, and it had grown a bit each year. Now, it was a sight to behold, complete with a small café where customers could grab breakfast, lunch, or coffee.

Testing the doorknob to the greenhouse, I opened the door, not at all surprised that Duncan had beaten me in, even with me being fifteen minutes early to my shift.

“You in here, Dunc?” I called.

A figure straightened midway down the second row. A handful of years older than me, Duncan was brawny with tanned skin that spoke of a life spent in the sunshine. “Morning.”

“How are the babies?” I asked, inclining my head toward the seedlings in front of him.

He grinned. “Holding steady.” That curve of his mouth slipped a bit as he scanned my face. He cleared his throat. “How’d yesterday go?”

I rolled my lips over my teeth to keep any annoyance from slipping out. The problem with living in a small town was that everyone knew your past. Knew your business. Even if the concern came from a good place, it sometimes felt stifling.

“Good,” I finally said, then smiled. “Lolli made me a dick flower for my new place, so how could it be anything else?”

Duncan’s brows nearly hit his hairline, and he started coughing. “Did you say dick flower?”

I pulled out my phone and tapped the screen a few times until I navigated to my photos. Turning it around, I showed Duncan. His cheeks turned pink, and he started shaking his head.

I couldn’t help it, I burst out laughing. “We could offer her a show here. She’d love it.”

Duncan scrubbed a hand over his bearded cheek. “I really don’t need to get arrested for corrupting minors.”

“Keely asked for her own dick flower last night at dinner. Trace was not pleased.”

Duncan chuckled. “I don’t imagine so. Speaking of brothers, we need to pull a few more things for Shep’s order.”

“Sure. You got the list?” I locked my phone and shoved it back into my pocket. Shep was finishing up a stunning new build in the foothills, and being a perfectionist meant he had to handle the landscaping, too.

Duncan tugged a scrap of paper from his back pocket and handed it to me. “Got most of it pulled and in the loading area last night, but I didn’t want to chance some of the flowers. Think you can handle the rest?”

I scanned the list, my lips twitching. It’d taken me years to decipher Duncan’s scrawl. A good seventy-five percent of the items were scratched out already. The only ones left were things the deer might decide to make a snack of. “Got it. I’ll start watering after. We should move the peonies up to the front, too. Some of them are starting to bloom.”

Duncan pinned me with a stare. “When are you going to take the manager position?”

I winced. “A quarter to never?”

He shook his head. “You know almost as much about every plant on this property as I do. You’ve got great instincts and people skills, and the pay is practically double.”

I didn’t care about the pay. I lived simply and didn’t have especially extravagant tastes. And now that I was living in a place that was already bought and paid for, I needed even less. “I don’t need the headache, Dunc.”

He muttered something I couldn’t quite make out.

A hint of guilt churned in my stomach. A manager position meant the kind of stress I didn’t need, like people counting on me for more than just working a set number of hours a week. Even though I’d worked at Bloom since high school, I didn’t feel the pull for more. I liked my life exactly how it was. I had a paycheck that covered the necessities and time to enjoy things outside of work. I didn’t take any of those moments for granted because I knew none of them were guaranteed. So, I lived each one to the fullest and enjoyed the simple beauty in all of them.

“Tell me if you change your mind,” he grumbled.

“I will. Promise.” But I didn’t wait for anything else. I made a beeline for the greenhouse door and headed out into the early morning sunshine. I sucked in a lungful of cool air. It soothed my anxious edges.

Squinting down at the list, I made a quick plan. I grabbed a cart from the row near the gravel parking lot and got to work. It only took about twenty minutes to get everything pulled, and I made it to the loading area just as a truck headed my way. Only it wasn’t Shep’s familiar silver one towing a trailer. It was a black one that fit the personality of the man behind the wheel.

I steeled myself, pulling my armor into place and trying to remember what Shep had told me. Anson had been through something. And that something had left him a shell of the person he’d once been. It had wrapped him in coldness. Maybe that frostiness was his armor—a way to keep people at arm’s length.

The truck swung around so Anson could reverse into the makeshift spot. I tried to focus on the beeping alerts, not the prickle of awareness skating over my skin. The moment the rig was in park, I stepped forward and unlatched the trailer.

Footsteps sounded on the gravel. “Shouldn’t have done that.”

My gaze flicked to the side as I opened the back door. Anson wore a ballcap that shielded his eyes from the light, but the sun still picked up on the lighter strands of blond in his thick, wild scruff. “Do what?”

“Moved behind the trailer before you knew I was done backing up.”

I rolled my eyes. “I could see you weren’t in reverse.”

Those blue-gray eyes swept over my face, assessing. “Easy to change that.”

“Good morning to you, too, Anson. How’d you sleep?” I said with an exaggerated smile bordering on the look of a deranged clown.

Something passed over those stormy eyes, but it was gone so quickly, I second-guessed myself. He turned to the array of plants. “These all ours?”

I nodded. “Shouldn’t take us too long to load things up.”

Anson jerked his head in a nod and moved toward the heaviest items. He bent and lifted an Aspen sapling with ease. His tee stretched tight across his muscled chest as his biceps flexed.

I quickly averted my gaze and moved to some of the shrubs. We worked silently, but it was only a matter of minutes before the quiet made my skin crawl.

“So, you think you guys will finish the place today?” I asked, desperate for noise to break up the silence. If Anson didn’t start talking, I was going to start singing, and I couldn’t imagine he wanted that.

“Likely.”

That was it. One word and on to the next shrub.

Instead of annoying me this time, it made a small snicker leave my lips.

Anson’s smooth gait hitched before he reached the trailer. “What?”

I grinned at him. “You’re a real Chatty Cathy.”

He scowled at me and headed into the trailer.

“So,” I tried again, “how do you like Sparrow Falls?”

I could make a game out of this. See what buttons I needed to push to get Anson talking.

“Fine,” he clipped, moving for a lilac.

I bit my lip to keep from laughing. “You ever give more than one-word answers?”

“No.”

A laugh did bubble out of me then. Couldn’t be helped. “Fair enough. Let’s play a one-word game, then. Lakes or oceans?”

Anson stopped in his tracks and turned slowly toward me. “What are you playing at?”

I shrugged. “You’re my brother’s best friend. You’re going to be working on my house for the foreseeable future. Don’t you think it might be nice to get to know each other a little bit? Maybe even be friendly?”

That was the wrong word.

The blue bled out of Anson’s eyes, leaving them pure gray. “I don’t do friends. I don’t do silly little girls playing games. Just let me do my job and stay out of my way.”

A slap would’ve stung less. But I didn’t let it show. “I might be silly, but silly’s a heck of a lot better than being an asshole.”

And with that, I headed to water the plants in the north greenhouse. Anson could load the damn trailer himself.

“Thank you for taking him,” Nancy said as she handed me a leash. “I didn’t want to call you for another week, at least. Hoped to give you a chance to get settled in your new place. But desperate times call for desperate measures.”

I took hold of the thick green leash as the dog looked up at me with sad eyes. It was anyone’s guess what mishmash of breeds he was. He had a stocky body with short, stubby legs, and his head looked two sizes too big for the rest of him. His black fur was dull, but I knew that would change with a month of good meals.

“It’s not a problem. Kitten season is always hectic.” I crouched down to get on the pup’s level but didn’t offer my hand yet. I wanted him to get used to my scent first.

Nancy swiped the tendrils of frizzy hair out of her face. “You’re telling me. I’ve got two litters right now.”

I looked up at her, taking in the dark circles under her eyes. “Are you getting any sleep at all?”

“Ken and I are taking shifts, so I’m cobbling together five or six.”

“Angel points,” I said with a smile. “But you deserve a trip to the spa, too.”

Nancy’s big, bawdy laugh swirled in the air around us. “I’m not against it once we’re deep into summer, maybe fall.”

But she wouldn’t ever go. She’d feel like a trip away meant letting down the animals that needed her. Wags & Whiskers Animal Rescue was her pride and joy, her purpose. And she didn’t trust anyone to run it in her absence.

My gaze shifted back to the black dog. His ears twitched.

“What do I need to know about him?”

Nancy sighed. “He got dumped down by Castle Rock. He does okay around women, but he’s not the biggest fan of men.”

An ache settled deep in my bones. That could only mean that some man hadn’t treated him well. Bastard.

“He have a name?” I asked.

“Thought you could do the honors there as you get to know him.”

The dog shifted a bit, easing toward me.

“Hey, buddy,” I crooned.

At the soft tone, he scooted even closer.

I pulled the packet of treats I kept in the car from my back pocket. “How do you feel about liver? I think it’s nasty, but it smells extra strong, which usually means pups love it.”

The moment I broke the seal on the bag, the dog started sniffing wildly. I chuckled and plucked a treat from the pack. Holding out my palm, I waited.

He stretched out his neck as far as possible and quickly snatched the treat.

“That’s a good boy,” I encouraged and pulled out another treat.

This time, he edged a bit closer to me to get the treat easier. After treat four, I slowly lifted my hand to scratch under his chin. He melted into me, his back leg thumping.

“That’s your spot, huh?”

The dog’s booty started wagging back and forth.

“You’ve got a way with them,” Nancy said with a smile. “You always have.”

A phantom pain drifted through me. It wasn’t acute in any way; it was an echo of agony. A month after I’d come to live with the Colsons, Lolli dragged me with her to pick up a cat someone had found scrounging in a dumpster in the back of The Pop.

The cat had patchy, coarse fur and fleas. We’d had to bathe her twice, which she really hadn’t loved, and she’d given us the scratches to prove it. I hadn’t wanted any part of the project. I’d still felt like I was drowning in grief, but taking care of the fiery, mangy cat and helping her find her way toward healing and trusting again had healed something in me, too.

I’d been fostering animals ever since. There was no greater sense of pride than when I gave one of them over to their forever families, knowing they’d finally get the life they deserved.

“Well, this one is just a love,” I cooed as the dog pressed his whole body against my side. “You wanna come home with me?”

The pup looked up at me with those huge eyes. So much uncertainty swirled in their depths, but he easily followed me to the SUV when I pushed to my feet. I opened the back door, and he hopped right in. I gave him an ear scratch as a reward.

When I closed the door, Nancy pulled me into a hug. “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” I said, squeezing her back. “I’ll keep you updated on his progress and take plenty of pics for the website.”

We liked to post the animals as soon as we got them so we could begin getting the word out. When we were getting closer to a critter being ready for their forever home, we’d start accepting applications. But I had a feeling this guy would need a few weeks with me, at least.

I released Nancy and climbed behind the wheel. The dog’s head popped up over the edge of the sort of hammock I had to keep dogs in the back seat. I chuckled and offered him one more treat. “How do you feel about car rides?”

His tongue lolled out of his mouth, and he panted happily.

“I’m taking that as a good sign.” I put the car in drive and headed away from Nancy’s home on the edge of town. As we drove, I cracked the back window just enough for my new pup to poke his head out if he wanted.

It took two point five seconds. Those oversized ears that had been standing at attention now blew in the breeze. I couldn’t help the laugh that burst out of me. Ah, the simple joy of the wind in your ears.

“Car rides, check.” One less thing I’d have to master with him.

It only took a few minutes to reach the turnoff to home. Home. It felt like such a foreign word. Even though I’d felt nothing but welcome with the Colsons, it was never completely home. And since then, I’d been afraid to reach for it.

The dog pulled his head back in, shifting positions so he could see out the front window.

“We’re both going to do some hard things, but we’ll face them together.”

I kept one hand on the wheel and used the other to scratch under my foster pup’s chin. The thumping of his foot against the seat was the only answering sound.

As I headed down the drive, I caught sight of several vehicles by the main house. The majority were trucks of various makes and models, and I recognized almost all of them. But my stomach still flipped a little. Work was officially starting.

It was a good thing. A necessary thing. And most of all, it was time.

I parked outside my guest cottage and hopped out. Opening the back door, I grabbed for the leash. The dog jumped out, his nose in the air, sniffing like crazy. And then, out of nowhere, he let out a series of barks and growls that sounded more like the hounds of hell than a canine.

I turned to see the source of his rage and caught sight of familiar dark blond scruff peeking out from under the shadows of a ballcap. Anson’s footsteps halted as he took in the dog next to me. “Didn’t know you had a dog.”

“I don’t,” I clipped, not forgetting our earlier interaction.

Anson simply arched a brow. Of course, he could ask a question without uttering a word.

“I foster for a local organization. He’s not a fan of men.”

To my surprise, Anson lowered himself to the gravel, hunching his shoulders to make himself as small as possible. “Got any treats?”

I snagged the bag from my pocket and tossed it to him without saying a word. The motion of Anson catching the bag made my new pup’s snarls intensify, but Anson simply ignored them. He opened the bag and palmed a few of the liver treats.

The dog kept up his low growls but sniffed the air.

Anson tossed a treat at the dog’s feet. He stopped growling just long enough to gobble it down.

“Give the leash some slack,” Anson said, keeping his eyes downcast.

I glanced between the dog and the broody bastard. “You sure about that?” Anson might be on my shit list, but I didn’t want him mauled by my newest foster.

“Give him some slack, Reckless,” he echoed.

I scowled at the nickname but gave the dog another couple feet of leash. It would let him have some freedom but not enough that he could take a chunk out of Anson’s face.

Just as I gave the slack, Anson tossed treats. One. Two. Three. The dog couldn’t eat the snacks and charge Anson. He went for the treats.

“Good boy,” Anson said, his voice low as he tossed two more treats.

The dog’s growls subsided, and Anson made a clicking noise with his tongue, tossing two more treats. “You got a clicker?”

My brows furrowed. “Like for the garage?”

“No,” Anson said, still not looking up. “Training tool. The sound marks good behavior. You can click faster than you can get them a treat. The click lets them know they did something good, and a reward is coming.”

I did basic training with all the dogs that came into my care, but it was more about getting them used to certain stimuli and making sure they were potty-trained.

Anson showed the dog the treat and then lifted it into the air. My new pup plunked his butt right on the ground. Anson clicked and tossed the treat.

Without making a sound, Anson lined up treats that led closer to him. The dog took the first two easily but then started to get a bit apprehensive. He would dart forward and then back. But Anson simply stayed still, letting him do what he needed.

Slowly, the dog nosed closer. He took one treat, then another. Finally, Anson held out his palm with two treats on it. The dog kept looking between the treats and Anson. In a blur of motion, the dog took a treat and dashed back.

Anson made the clicking noise and tossed another treat a few feet away from him. The dog took it and then hurried back to my side. Anson rose, taking his time to make sure there were no sudden movements.

I stared at him as if he were an entirely different human than anyone I’d met before. “What was that?”

Anson just stared at me, not answering.

“You’ve been nothing but a grumpy asshole since I met you. But with him…”

“Don’t do people. Love dogs.” And with that, he stalked back to the main site and his crew.

I looked down at my new friend. “What the hell was that?”

The dog just stared up at me, tongue lolling.

I shook my head. “Come on, let’s get you inside. I really hope you don’t puke after all those treats.”

I showed my pup around the tiny guest cottage, letting him sniff to his heart’s content. Then as he settled on a dog bed by the fireplace, I got to work hauling in his food and other essentials. I kept a lot of things on hand, but each animal had a different type of food, meds, and other paraphernalia.

By the time I got everything inside, the pup was snoring so loudly it was a wonder the walls didn’t shake. Since he was fast asleep, I headed back outside and hit my key fob to open the SUV’s back hatch.

As it swung up, various brightly colored blooms met my gaze. As much as I never decorated the inside of my home to Nora’s satisfaction, my garden, porch, and deck were the places I always made mine. Sinking my hands into soil and creating a cacophony of color and texture made me feel closer to my mom, even though she was gone.

Having the garden spaces around the guest cottage lie fallow, and the small porches empty, made me twitchy. So, there was only one solution. Fill them.

I hauled out bags of soil, carrying them toward the array of pots in various shapes, sizes, and colors. Then I got to work on the flats of flowers and the larger statement blooms. By the time everything was out of my SUV and by the side of the house, my hair was sticking to the back of my neck. Spring was definitely here.

Bending over, I pulled all the strands into a chaotic bun, tying it off with a hair band. I had to buy specialty ones because the regular kind simply snapped with the force of my tendrils.

As I straightened, I saw a shiny silver sedan driving too fast toward me. The BMW emblem shone on the hood, and a familiar license plate stood out on the front grille.

Everything in me strung tight. “Oh, crap.”