Page 20 of A Furever Home (Gaynor Beach Animal Rescue #8)

She eyed her food as if trying to determine if she could manage it, then set the plate on her knee.

“Don’t force it if you’re not hungry. I can make some chicken noodle soup or poached eggs—something that’ll be easier on your tummy.” I wanted to take care of her like I had when she was three. I wanted to be the big brother I would’ve been if I’d been in her life all these years.

“It’s fine.” She met my gaze. “I’m just wondering what to tell you.”

“Whatever you can. Everything. We’ve got major issues to deal with here, and the more information I have, the better.”

She shrugged. “I was in New York City with Mom.”

“In the city? Doing what?”

“Shopping.”

That sounded entirely improbable—my family loathed the bastion of internationalism and blue politics that was NYC. “Okay. Then what?”

“I slipped away. Caught a ride to the New Jersey turnpike to get out of the city. I found someone heading to Ohio, and I asked if I could go along.”

I blinked. “Just like that?”

“Well, they had Ohio plates. I was counting on them being, I dunno, liberal or something. Having chosen to come to New York City in the first place.”

Liberal didn’t mean safe, and anyhow, I wasn’t going to list all the reasons someone less liberal might go from Ohio to NYC and back again. “And then?”

“Some hitching here, crashing on a bench in a bus station there, cajoling rides, and eventually ending up in LA. I told you the rest.” She pulled the crust off the bread and bit into the middle.

Finding a nice woman to drive her to Gaynor Beach.

“You’re leaving a shit ton out of that story.”

“I’m telling you what you need to know.”

“Why were you in New York? Why did you give Mom the slip? Hell, how did you give Mom the slip?”

She eyed the rest of her toast, then dropped it onto the plate.

Hiro placed himself at her feet and gazed longingly at the discarded food.

After a moment, she picked up her coffee and sipped. “It really doesn’t matter.”

“Cheyenne—”

“We were shopping, Brooklyn. That’s all you need to know. And I had to get away. She was inattentive for a moment, and I took that as a sign from the universe to turn tail and run. I had my overnight bag, and I decided to hightail it as fast as I could.” Another sip.

“Do you have a phone they can trace?” Because the last thing I needed was the cops showing up at my door.

She rolled her eyes. “You think they’d give me a phone?”

“You might’ve, I don’t know, bought one yourself.”

Her eyes clouded. “I had thirty-six dollars in my wallet and had to make it last nine days, and…” She gazed upward as if trying to calculate. “I don’t know how many states. I can say it wasn’t a direct route.”

Jesus fucking Christ. It’s truly a miracle she’s alive. “You can eat anything you want here, okay? We should buy more stuff. Why don’t we do a grocery order?” I hesitated. “You don’t have enough clothes to last more than a day or two, do you?”

“If I keep laundering them, I should be okay.”

I shook my head. “Let’s get you a couple of outfits. There’s a great thrift store in town. And they donate proceeds to charity, so you’d be doing a good thing.”

She arched an eyebrow.

“I won’t ask if you would agree to call our parents?—”

“Good call.”

“—but is there someone else who might be worried? Someone you’d want to reassure?”

“Nope.” She popped the p . She held my gaze. “I didn’t have friends, Brooklyn. My one non-wacko school friend moved to Canada two years ago. I was completely ostracized by the rest because I didn’t respect their crazy-ass beliefs.”

Neither had I, so I understood. “But you couldn’t wait until you turned eighteen?

The day of your birthday, I could’ve been on your doorstep with a plane ticket—if that’s what you wanted.

” Would’ve been a hell of an expensive gift, but if she’d asked, I would’ve swung it. Done whatever was necessary.

“I couldn’t wait.”

“Couldn’t or wouldn’t?” Because semantics were important.

“Couldn’t.” Her eyes turned flinty. “Don’t ask, Brooklyn. You won’t like the answer.”

“We still have to deal with the fact you’re underage and you ran away.” I wanted to believe her when she said she wasn’t pregnant, but I’d lied a time or two out of desperation back home. What else could be that urgent? I rubbed my face. “Maybe we’ll brainstorm when Arthur comes home.”

“What’s the deal with the two of you?”

“Cheyenne.” I injected as much warning as I could.

Although I urgently wanted more from Arthur than what we’d done last night, sharing that little tidbit with my baby sister wasn’t the answer to getting there.

How he’d acted around Cheyenne reinforced the impression Arthur was shy, and I knew how she could tease.

“Fair’s fair.”

I pursed my lips. “Hardly the same thing. We’ll put this discussion on hold. Before lunch, let’s organize a grocery delivery.”

“I can cook, you know. I didn’t want to be domesticated, but Mom insisted I learn and Dad didn’t make that optional. So maybe I can stay here in exchange for, like, cooking and cleaning?” She eyed my floor that had, admittedly, a lot of dog hair in the corners.

Cleaning hadn’t been the priority this week.

When I wasn’t doggie-sitting for my clients, I was trying to take care of Arthur without appearing to take care of him.

Not hovering, of course. Watching for obstacles, moving things to where they’d be more convenient.

Making sure he had something to drink if it was time for his meds.

Suggesting he rest when the crease between his ginger eyebrows got deep. Stuff like that.

“I’m not going to turn down your cooking,” I said.

Cheyenne appeared to need to feel useful.

God knew, if I was healthy and staying at someone’s house, I’d want to contribute too.

“I want to get you a pay-as-you-go phone first thing, though. For safety. We can put it on my credit card.” Another expense, but worth it.

“Even so, I’d prefer you not leave the house without me.

There’s always a chance the cops might be looking for you. We need to deal with all this mess.”

“When Arthur gets home.” She rose. “I’ll check out what you’ve got in the pantry and the fridge, then I’ll make a list of everything I need.” She was at the baby gate before she turned back. “Thank you.”

She looked so heartbreakingly young in that moment. Whatever it took, I swore I’d protect her. “Of course.”

After holding my gaze for several moments, she nodded and headed back to the kitchen.

A long time passed before I got up off the floor to arrange midday snacks for the grateful pooches and a treat or two for the cat.