14

Callan

Another yawn escaped me as I opened my truck door and grabbed the wicker basket off the passenger seat. Despite the three cups of coffee I’d had before leaving my house, I was still tired. I’d stayed up until two a.m. researching how to lure a lost cat back home. I’d written everything down on a piece of paper, which was currently folded in the back pocket of my jeans for safekeeping.

From what I could tell, Pudding meant a lot to Avery, and I wanted to do everything I could to get her cat back, but I hadn’t a clue where to start with this. My specialty was horses, not felines. They hated me, I disliked them, so I never familiarized myself with them, but now I felt all too knowledgeable on the species.

I mentally recited what I’d memorized, on top of having written it down, as I knocked on Sage’s front door, trying my best to calm my racing pulse. I’d made such a fool of myself in the kitchen yesterday with no clue on what to talk about with Sage. My thoughts were racing at the time, much like they were now, about how she was sitting in my parents’ kitchen watching me cook, how she looked, how I looked. I’d been silently begging one of my brothers or even Bailey to walk in and spark a conversation, but I’d been left to my own devices. I shouldn’t have asked who’d been calling her during Avery’s lesson. I’d majorly overstepped with that, and I had to hope Sage had forgotten I’d even brought it up.

I didn’t typically get anxious around people in particular—it was mostly just being out in town that did it for me. But something about Sage made my pulse skyrocket and my mind race as I worried I’d stumble over my words and embarrass myself.

Anxiety was a bitch like that. I could be having the most simple conversation and I’d still jumble words together and trip over my own tongue. 

The door swung open and my gaze fell to where Avery stood before me. “You came!”

“Avery, I asked you not to open the door before I got there,” Sage said from somewhere in the house.

“Of course, I came. I said I would,” I told Avery.

Sage came up behind her daughter, her hair up in a messy bun atop her head, showing off her long neck. She was wearing an oversized t-shirt over biker shorts, her legs on display. 

“Good morning,” I greeted.

“Good morning.” Her eyes dropped to the basket in my hands. “What’s that?”

“A get-well basket.” I felt bad that her knee was still hurting, so I wanted to bring her a few things to help her feel better.

Sage’s lips parted, her attention stuck on the basket. I’d stuffed it full of tea bags, chapstick, hair clips—those were thanks to Lettie’s input—two ice packs, a couple heating packs, a blanket, bath salts, and a lavender essential oil spray. To top it off, I’d gone back to the library to check out the book she was reading during the meeting. It was probably overkill, but caring for people was in my nature. Just because Sage and I didn’t know each other very well didn’t mean I couldn’t get her a few things.

“You went back for the book?” she asked, her eyes shining up at me.

I nodded. “You weren’t done reading it, and I figured with resting your knee, you might want to finish it.” I hoped it wasn’t too much. Now that I was looking at it, I almost wanted to shrink in on myself.

“Thank you. Really, that’s so nice of you,” she said, reaching for the basket. I passed it off to her and she disappeared inside. “Come in,” she called over her shoulder.

Avery turned, following her mother as I stepped inside and closed the door behind me. 

The house looked like a home—lived in and loved. Avery’s toys were strewn about the living room, touches of pink set about, winter clothes still hanging on the coat rack. 

“I’m sorry about the mess. I did my best to tidy up, but there’s only so much I can do when Avery gets everything back out right after it’s put away,” Sage said as I entered the kitchen. She set the basket on the counter and bent to gently rub at the side of her knee. 

“Does it still hurt?” I asked.

“Not as bad. The bruise is bright and shining, but I’m sure it will fade soon.”

Avery stood by the kitchen table, her arms crossed. “So, Callan, how do you suppose you’re going to find my Pudding?”

I cocked an eyebrow. The girl was smart for her age, I’d give her that. And sassy, too. I wondered if she got that from her mother—a side of Sage I had yet to see. “I wrote a list.” I pulled the paper out of my back pocket, unfolding it.

“A list?” Sage repeated from behind the island.

I nodded, doing my best to read the scribbles I’d jotted down late last night. “Stayed up practically all night trying to find the best sources.”

Avery came to my side, peeking at the slip of paper. “What’s first?”

“Well, a lot of the websites said to set the food bowl and litter box outside, and that should attract her back here.”

“I can go get those,” Sage offered.

I looked up from the paper, eyeing Sage. “No. You rest. Avery and I have got this.”

A look of shock passed by Sage’s face before she blinked it away. “Are you sure?”

I nodded. “Positive. Rest that knee and use the heat packs. Take a bath if you’d like.”

Sage opened her mouth like she was going to say something, then pressed her lips shut. “I think I’ll watch some TV.”

I turned back to the list where Avery was still studying it. “That’s fine. We’ve got this handled.”

Sage hesitated before heading for the living room while Avery and I stood there for a few minutes, going over where the best spot would be to set the litter box and food. Ultimately, we landed on placing it by the front door. Avery’s winning point was that Pudding might smell her home with the front door cracked, and that would entice her more, so with the items on the porch, it’d be triple the smelling power.

I’d smiled at that.

We placed the litter box and food outside, and I waited while Avery filled the bowl with a heaping scoop of kibble. 

“Do you think she’d come if we had wet food?” Avery asked from where she was crouched.

I scanned our surroundings, contemplating that. “What do you think?”

“Hmm, I think she would,” she decided.

“Do you have any wet food for her?”

She stood, shaking her head. “No. Mom says it’s too much money right now.”

I glanced at the front door, then back at Avery. “I can buy you some.”

Her eyes lit up. “Really?”

I nodded. “If you think it’ll make Pudding come home.”

“I do! Let me go tell my mom.” She disappeared into the house but reappeared not even a minute later. “She’s sleeping.”

I slipped my cowboy hat off, running a hand through my hair as I looked out at the street. I couldn’t take Avery to the feed store without Sage’s permission, and I couldn’t leave Avery here with her mother sleeping.

Setting the hat back in place, I looked down at Avery. “Let me call my brother.”

I pulled my phone out, dialing Lennon. He answered on the third ring. “What’s up?”