Page 15 of Sweet Dreams at the Forever Home on Muddypuddle Lane (The Forever Home on Muddypuddle Lane #2)

Elijah woke on Sunday morning with three things on his mind. The first – that there was no doubt he would never run again – didn’t come as a shock. The second, that it would be another week before Dawn, the sanctuary’s manager, would consider his application, was met with resignation.

The third was that he was looking forward to seeing Nora today.

It was this which concerned him the most, because the last time he’d looked forward to spending time with a woman, he’d married her and it hadn’t ended well. Which was probably why he’d been single since the divorce.

He’d had many first dates, but few had led to second ones, and only once in twelve years had he got as far as date number three. There simply hadn’t been a spark.

But Nora was different. He couldn’t put his finger on how or why. She just was.

When he’d seen her last night, he’d been surprised at first, then mildly alarmed.

Was her quest to lose weight so important to her that she had to roam the streets in the middle of the night?

Seeing her alone in the darkness had given him the shivers, and he’d been relieved when she’d agreed to let him accompany her, and even more relieved when he’d safely delivered her to her door.

He’d also meant it when he’d told her she was perfect the way she was, although he couldn’t believe he’d actually said it out loud. What a muppet.

The bakery wasn’t open on Sundays, but this morning Elijah felt an unexpected urge to play with dough, to bake something different, and not because he wanted to produce a new product to improve sales (although that would be welcome), but for the sheer act of baking something new.

It had been a long time since he’d felt like baking for the love of it.

He never baked at home these days, wanting to keep his work life separate, but there’d once been a time when the house – the one he’d shared with his wife and son – had been rich with the smell of fresh bread, the air seeded with a fine dusting of flour or icing sugar. A time when he’d been happy…

Elijah sighed, pushing aside the dreary memories of his failed marriage, and with it the desire to bake.

He’d go for a run instead— Ah, no, he wouldn’t be doing that, either: the deep ache in his leg last night had been a warning, and one he would be foolish to ignore.

Another walk, then?

But walking on his own was a different kettle of fish to running on his own. Running was purposeful. Walking was…?

Second best.

Elijah slumped in his living room chair feeling restless, useless, adrift. On any normal Sunday, he’d be halfway through a fifteen-mile run by now and thoroughly enjoying every step. At least if he had a dog he could—

His thoughts turned to Biscuit.

A big dog like that needed a lot of exercise.

Bernese Mountain Dogs had been bred to herd cattle in the Swiss Alps, and they’d also been used to pull small carts to transport cheeses.

They liked being active (he’d been reading up on them) and he’d be more than happy to give Biscuit the exercise needed.

He certainly wouldn’t be sitting in an armchair contemplating his navel if he had Biscuit to care for; he’d be out on the hillside, putting in the miles.

Restlessly he picked up his phone, remembered he’d deleted the RunMad app, and put it down again, a crushing loneliness assailing him.

It was pathetic that he missed people he only really knew via an electronic device, that those usernames had been his only social life and without them he felt lost.

The sole light in the gloom of his self-pity was the prospect of adopting Biscuit.

And seeing Nora at the kennels this afternoon.

What was I thinking, was Nora’s first thought when she opened her eyes to a bright and sunny Sunday morning.

Was it morning?

She checked: only just. There was enough time for a shower and some brunch before she needed to set off for The Forever Home and her rendezvous with Biscuit. And Elijah, because he would no doubt be there.

Thinking of Elijah brought her smartly back to questioning her own sanity.

What had she been thinking, traipsing around Picklewick in the middle of the night? She should have stayed at home and done a hundred star jumps or something.

She hadn’t been thinking at all. She’d been panicking. At least she felt okay this morning, and as she tucked into a three-egg omelette a short while later, she vowed never to be as silly again. No more pigging out on foods that she knew weren’t good for her, and no more midnight walks.

Not on her own, anyway. It was lucky it was Elijah she’d bumped into and not some weirdo.

She wondered how he was feeling today. Not good, she suspected. He’d looked defeated last night, and her heart went out to him. Despite not being able to understand his passion for running, she could sympathise. Her world had also been turned upside down recently.

When a cloud of self-pity threatened to loom over her, Nora blew it away with a determined huff.

She wasn’t going to let this thing, this condition , define her.

The meal out last night was simply part of the new learning curve she was on, as she worked out how to live with it.

Just focus on getting the weight off, she told herself, as she locked her front door and set out. On foot, obviously.

Rather than walking along the main road, then turning off it to go up Muddypuddle Lane, Nora aimed for a kissing gate on the outskirts of the village, beyond which was a path leading through some fields that belonged to the stables.

It was a far gentler and prettier walk up the hill than traversing the lane itself, which was quite steep, and since she was determined to walk it, the gentler the incline the better.

Until she was a bit fitter, anyway. Hopefully, with Biscuit as an incentive to get her out the door, it wouldn’t be too long before she was bounding up hills and trotting down dales.

As soon as she squeezed through the kissing gate (she’d had to suck in her stomach), she paused for a moment to take in the scene.

The field rippled as the breeze waved through stalks of feathery grass, and here and there wildflowers bobbed and nodded as insects hummed, buzzing busily from bloom to bloom.

A sense of peace settled over her. Why hadn’t she done this more often, she asked herself, tilting her face to the sun and closing her eyes. The rays were warm on her cheeks and if she’d had time she would have sunk down into the grass and stayed there for a while.

The neigh of a horse in the distance and the call of a bird overhead were the only sounds.

Until…

‘Nora? Wait up.’

Nora opened her eyes to see Elijah walking briskly towards her, and her heart gave a lurch.

Tanned and slim, he strode effortlessly along the path, and she was hit by a desire so strong it stole her breath.

‘Are you alright?’ he asked, his blue eyes peering at her. ‘You look like you’ve seen a ghost. I’m not that scary, am I?’

She cleared her throat. ‘I’m fine,’ she replied hoarsely. ‘I didn’t expect to see anyone up here, that’s all. I thought I’d check it out in case—’ She stopped, her cheeks colouring.

‘In case you adopt Biscuit?’ he finished, pursing his lips when she nodded.

He looked regretful that she’d mentioned it, but it was the truth and for a while she’d forgotten the enemy part in frenemy. He wasn’t her friend, but under different circumstances she would have liked him to be. If she was honest, she would have liked him to be more than a friend.

Typical! She hadn’t looked at or thought about a man in that way for quite some time, and it was Sod’s Law that when she did fancy the pants off someone, they were sworn enemies.

No matter which of them ended up adopting Biscuit, the one wouldn’t be able to forgive the other. At least, she wouldn’t be able to forgive him , so it was probably safe to assume that Elijah would feel the same.

‘Recovered from your midnight adventure?’ he asked after a while, and Nora was glad of the change of topic.

‘Have you? ’

‘My leg still aches.’

Was that another attempt to gain her sympathy? She said, ‘Do you often run in the witching hour?’

‘Not usually, but I couldn’t settle, and whenever I can’t settle, I run. I guess I’m going to have to walk instead, now. It could be the start of a midnight walking club.’ His chuckle was regretful and sad.

‘To be honest, I prefer to be tucked up in bed at midnight,’ she replied. Not too long ago, she’d have preferred to be in a bar or a club.

Without warning, Nora suddenly felt very old, Like, eighty old.

The speed at which the years were slipping by, she would be eighty before too long; the previous thirty had flown by so fast. Yet, conversely, her teenage years seemed like several lifetimes ago, and lately her body was taking great delight in reminding her that she was no longer a spring chicken.

There had been a time when she could have raced up this hill, all the way to the top, and barely be out of breath when she got there.

Now though, she was puffing and panting like Thomas the Tank Engine on a bad day, and she was beginning to regret not driving up.

She was already out of breath, her thighs were on fire, and she was sweating buckets – and they weren’t even halfway there yet.

Elijah, damn him, looked as cool as a polar bear sitting on a glacier, and he didn’t need to catch his breath because he hadn’t lost it. He looked as though he was out for a saunter along the high street.

‘I love this view,’ he said, pausing and turning back to gaze at it, giving Nora the opportunity to take a breather.

God, she was so unfit.

Cross with herself, she quickly turned to continue the trudge up the hill, and promptly lost her footing on the uneven path.

Her leg went from underneath her and she would have face-planted the ground if it hadn’t been for Elijah’s quick-fire reaction, as he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her towards him.

She came up against his chest with a thud that sent them both tumbling backwards. Elijah juddered back a couple of paces, before regaining his balance.

‘Are you okay?’ he asked. He still had hold of her and as she looked into his eyes, she could see the concern in them.

Nora, who prided herself on rarely crying, promptly burst into tears.

She didn’t want to do this anymore.

She’d had her fill of being diabetic. She wanted everything to go back to the way it had been before she’d had the phone call from her GP.

It was so unfair.

‘Are you hurt?’ Elijah held her shoulders, searching her face for clues. ‘Are you ill?’

‘I’m fine,’ she sobbed.

‘Fine people don’t cry.’

‘It’s nothing.’ She was bawling now, her hands covering her face as she ugly cried big, fat tears.

‘It’s definitely something, ’ he persisted. ‘What’s wrong? Maybe I can help?’

‘You can’t.’ He seriously couldn’t, not when he smelled of vanilla and coconut, and reminded her of all the delicious things that were now out of bounds.

‘Come here.’ His voice was gentle as he drew her close and wrapped his arms around her.

Nora tensed, the gorgeous aroma intensifying. Then she slowly subsided into his embrace.

They stayed like that for a while, him holding her, and her snivelling until her tears ran their course and she managed to bring herself under control. When she disentangled herself, he silently handed her a tissue and she took it gratefully, blowing her nose.

‘Sorry,’ she muttered.

‘Don’t be. Better than keeping it bottled up. Is there anything I can do to help?’ he asked again.

She gave him a wan smile. ‘Relinquish your claim on Biscuit?’

‘Apart from that.’

‘No, then. But thank you for offering.’

‘This isn’t about Biscuit, is it?’

‘Not really.’

‘What is it?’

‘Oh, you know, life .’

‘Ah, life . Yep, you’re right, I do know.’

‘It can be a bugger sometimes.’

‘Can’t it just.’

Nora hitched in a breath. ‘We’re going to be late.’

‘Are you sure you want to go to the kennels?’

‘What, and let you have Biscuit all to yourself again? No chance!’

‘I was going to offer to walk you home. Biscuit will still be there tomorrow.’

That was sweet of him, she thought.

Sweet? Why did everything come back to the one thing she could no longer have, she mused sadly. She might seriously have to consider changing Biscuit’s name. Her smile came easier this time. ‘Thank you, that’s kind of you. I’m alright now, honestly. Let’s push on, shall we?’

‘If you’re sure?’ He sounded doubtful, and his eyes still held a hint of concern.

‘I’m sure.’ She uttered a self-conscious laugh. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t sob all over you again.’

‘I won’t mind if you do.’ He paused, then winced. ‘Please don’t take that the wrong way; I honestly don’t want to see you cry. But if you do feel the need, then I’m your man. Mi shoulder es tu shoulder. Sorry, I don’t know the Italian for shoulder.’ He looked embarrassed. ‘I’m babbling, aren’t I?’

‘It’s better than sobbing.’

‘You weren’t sobbing; wailing a bit, maybe, but not sobbing.’ He was smiling, but in a nice way.

He was actually a nice man.

More than nice.

Nora realised that she really liked him. A lot.

Shit.