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M att cradled Mrs. Pemberton’s ancient orange tabby, keeping his movements slow and gentle. Rusty was at least sixteen years old, and his kidneys were starting to fail. He’d stopped eating two days ago, which had sent his eighty-year-old owner into a panic.

“Will he be okay, Dr. Reynolds?” Mrs. Pemberton asked, her veined hands twisting the strap of her purse. She’d been coming to Matt’s clinic since he’d first opened, bringing her cats with her.

“Let’s get him on some fluids first,” Matt said, carefully placing Rusty on the examination table. “He’s pretty dehydrated, which is making him feel worse than he needs to.”

The cat gave a weak meow of protest as Matt checked his gums and felt his abdomen. There was some tenderness around the kidneys, but not a hard mass that could mean a tumor.

“I think we caught this in time,” Matt told Mrs. Pemberton. “We’ll run some blood work, but I suspect he’s having a flare-up of kidney disease. It’s common in cats his age.”

Relief washed over the older woman’s face. “Oh, thank goodness. When he wouldn’t touch his tuna, I thought the worst.”

Matt nodded, understanding her fear. For many of his older clients, their pets were their only companions. “You did the right thing bringing him in. Kidney disease is manageable with the right treatment.”

He worked efficiently but unhurriedly, drawing blood for testing and starting an IV line for fluids. Throughout the procedure, he kept up a steady stream of conversation—partly to reassure Mrs. Pemberton and partly to distract Rusty.

“There we go, big guy,” he murmured as the fluids began flowing. “You’ll be feeling better in no time.”

After Rusty was in a crate, Matt turned to Mrs. Pemberton. “I’d like to keep him on fluids for a few more hours. You can pick him up this afternoon, around four. By then, he should be feeling much better.”

Mrs. Pemberton nodded. “Thank you, Dr. Reynolds. I don’t know what Rusty and I would do without you.”

After seeing Mrs. Pemberton out to the waiting room, Matt asked his vet tech, Sarah, to monitor Rusty while he saw his next patient.

The morning flew by with a steady stream of appointments.

In between giving someone advice about how to look after their goldfish, he’d vaccinated a litter of puppies, stitched a laceration on a dog’s paw, drained a cyst on a cat’s back leg, and performed wellness checks for five elderly cats.

By lunchtime, Matt was ready for a break.

“I’m heading out for a sandwich,” he told Brenda as he grabbed his jacket. “Do you need anything from the deli?”

Brenda looked up from her computer. “No thanks. I had a big breakfast.” She held up her phone. “Carol just texted. She’s freaking out about the fundraiser this weekend. She said they’re short on volunteers to set up the barn, and the printing company messed up the programs.”

Matt sighed. The shelter fundraiser had been consuming most of Carol’s energy for weeks. As the only full-time employee at the chronically underfunded shelter, she was trying to run the place and organize a major event at the same time.

“I told her we’d stop by after work to help,” Brenda continued. “Is that okay?”

“Of course it is,” Matt told her. “I need to drop off the latest list of auction items anyway. As well as all the other last-minute donations, Frank’s offered to take two people onto the lake for a full day of fishing.”

Brenda looked impressed. “How did you convince him to do that?”

Matt shrugged. “I went to his grandson’s school with a litter of puppies and talked about being a vet. He was grateful.”

“I imagine the students were, too,” Brenda shook her head. “No wonder you’re never going to retire. You love working with animals too much.”

“The animals aren’t the only thing I’d miss,” Matt said with a grin. “I enjoy seeing what ideas you and Carol come up with to keep the shelter’s doors open.”

“While we’re talking about keeping the doors open,” Brenda said, giving him a meaningful look, “you’re staying for the entire fundraiser, aren’t you? Not just dropping by, but actually attending the event?”

Matt’s eyebrows rose. “Have you been talking to Carol? She asked me the same thing.”

Brenda smiled. “And you’re dodging my question. You should bring someone. It’ll be a fun night.”

“It’s a community fundraiser,” Matt replied dryly. “Most women wouldn’t see that as a great date option.”

“Still.” Brenda wasn’t giving up. “Lynda Morth was here yesterday. She’s looking forward to going to the fundraiser.”

Matt felt heat rise to his face. “I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”

“Oh, please.” Brenda rolled her eyes. “You light up like a Christmas tree whenever she comes into the clinic.” She raised her hand to stop his protest. “And don’t try denying it. You talk about her all the time.”

“She’s a good vet with decades of experience. Of course, I mention her work.”

Brenda shrugged. “All I’m saying is, you’re both going anyway. You could go together. Maybe get dinner after it finishes.”

“I’m getting lunch now,” Matt said firmly, zipping up his jacket. “Alone. Are you sure I can’t tempt you with a chicken and avocado salad?”

Brenda shook her head. “I’ll be fine, but don’t be surprised if I mention Lynda’s name a few more times before the fundraiser.”

The shelter’s doorbell rang, and Matt turned to see Diana Preston and Charlie, her Golden Labrador.

Diana smiled. “Don’t mind us. I know I’m incredibly early, but I wanted to talk to Brenda about the fundraiser.”

Brenda’s smile widened. “Are your sisters happy to donate a night’s accommodation at the inn?”

Diana nodded. “It’s better than that. We’ll do a weekend getaway for two, including all meals and a special gift basket.”

While Brenda added the donation to the fundraiser’s spreadsheet, Matt escaped into the crisp spring air. He wasn’t seeing Charlie for another half hour. If he was quick, he might even be able to have his lunch at his favorite picnic table overlooking the lake.

As he headed toward Pete’s Deli, his mind stubbornly returned to Brenda’s suggestion of inviting Lynda to the fundraiser.

It’d be hectic, especially if everyone who had bought tickets arrived.

There were bound to be last-minute issues that didn’t bode well for spending time with anyone other than Carol and Brenda.

Yet he couldn’t deny the little jolt he felt at the thought of seeing Lynda there. In some ways, she reminded him of Maria. Not in appearance or even personality, but in the compassion that seemed to guide her actions.

That thought sent a pang of guilt through him. Maria had been gone for a long time, but sometimes it felt like yesterday. The suddenness of her cancer diagnosis, her rapid decline, and the terrible emptiness of the house afterward had all left scars that he doubted would ever fully heal.

After picking up a sandwich, Matt checked the time.

The table by the lake was too far away, so he sat at one of the outdoor tables in front of the deli, watching the easy flow of life in Sapphire Bay.

Tourists mingled with locals, everyone enjoying the perfect spring weather.

Across the street, someone walked into Isabel’s bookstore, and he wondered if Lynda was still there.

By the time he returned to the clinic, he’d pushed the fundraiser to the back of his mind. After seeing Charlie, his afternoon appointments kept him busy. Before he knew it, Mrs. Pemberton was back to collect a much-improved Rusty.

“The fluids made all the difference,” Matt explained as he gently placed the cat in its carrier. He’s eaten a little wet food and seems more comfortable. Here’s your prescription for his kidney medicine and a sample of the special diet I want you to try.”

Mrs. Pemberton tucked the items into her large purse. “What about the fluids you mentioned? The ones I need to give him at home?”

“I’ll have Sarah show you how to do that,” Matt reassured her. “It sounds difficult, but it’s simpler than you think. And if you’re not comfortable doing it yourself, you can bring him in three times a week, and we’ll do it for you.”

“You’re a blessing, Dr. Reynolds,” Mrs. Pemberton said, touching his arm again. “I don’t know what this town would do without you.”

After Mrs. Pemberton left, Matt finished his charts and checked on the overnight patients. Rusty wasn’t the only one getting fluids today. When he was finished, he told Brenda he was heading out.

“Don’t forget we’re stopping by the barn,” she reminded him. “Carol’s probably having a meltdown by now.”

“I haven’t forgotten,” Matt assured her. “I’ll meet you there in half an hour.”

Instead of driving straight to the barn, he stopped at The Flower Cottage and bought a small bouquet of daisies—Maria’s favorite. Then he took the short detour to Sapphire Bay’s only cemetery on the outskirts of town.

The cemetery was peaceful at this time of day. Matt knew the path to Maria’s grave by heart—down the main walkway, left at the big oak tree, then halfway up the gentle slope. The granite headstone was simple but elegant, just like his wife had been.

Kneeling beside Maria’s headstone, he touched the silver lettering. Maria Elizabeth Reynolds, Beloved Wife and Mother. But it was the next words that always made his heart ache. Wherever a beautiful soul has been, there’s a trail of beautiful memories.

He placed the daisies in the small vase beside the headstone, removing the wilted ones from his last visit. Then he sat on the grass, as he’d done every week for fifteen years.

“Hey, honey,” he said softly. “It’s been a busy week. Rusty Pemberton’s kidneys are acting up. You remember him. He’s the orange tabby you said had more lives than any cat you’d ever met. Well, he’s on life eight or nine now, but I think we caught it in time.”

He talked about the clinic, the shelter, and the new kennels they hoped to build if the fundraiser went well. He told her about Stephanie’s latest call and how their granddaughter had passed her last set of exams.

“Carol’s worried about the fundraiser,” he continued, running his fingers through the grass beside the headstone. “I’ve been calling in every favor I can think of for auction items. I’m not sure how much longer the shelter can keep going if we don’t raise the money we need.”

A gentle breeze ruffled the daisies, and Matt fell silent. He looked across the cemetery and then back at his wife’s grave. “I miss you,” he said. “Every day. I know you told me it would change, that I’d get used to you not being here, but that hasn’t happened.”

An image of Lynda filled his mind, and he sighed.

Before Maria had died, they’d talked about what would happen afterward.

Maria had insisted that he shouldn’t spend the rest of his life alone, that he should find happiness again.

At the time, he’d brushed off her words.

He’d been unable to imagine a world without her in it, let alone one where he could feel anything for someone else.

“I think I might be feeling something again,” he admitted quietly.

“It’s different, Maria. Not like what we had.

But it’s... something.” He took a deep breath.

“I don’t know if I’m ready. She volunteers at the animal shelter but isn’t staying permanently in Sapphire Bay.

I’m not even sure she’d want to spend time with me. ”

The soft spring breeze rustled the flowers, sending a few petals dancing across the grass. Matt watched them, thinking about how unpredictable life could be.

“I should go,” he said finally, checking his watch. “Carol’s waiting at the barn. The fundraiser is this weekend, and you know how she gets.”

He stood up, brushing the grass from his trousers. “I’ll be back next week.” He touched the top of the headstone, a gesture that had become as natural as breathing. “Love you, always.”

As he returned to his truck, Matt felt his wife’s presence beside him. For some crazy reason, he’d thought he’d feel guilty if he told Maria about Lynda, but he hadn’t. And, for the first time in fifteen years, he was curious about what the future might hold.