Page 18 of Wag More Bark Less

Or maybe I was just hungry.

Yeah, that had to be it. I hadn’t eaten since I passed out on the guest bed sometime late yesterday afternoon. So much for that quick nap.

I woke up briefly in the middle of the night, but after letting Ellie out and changing into pajamas, I dropped like a lead weight into the main bed. Hours later, I woke to the incessant cawing of crows and a chilly morning breeze, only to discover my dog had slipped out the back door I clearly forgot to close in my groggy state, and invited herself into Luke’s kitchen.

And now the aroma of freshly cooked bacon had me ravenous.

“I’m just hungry,” I declared, as though saying it aloud made it true.

Ellie lifted her head from my shoulder, giving me a look that clearly called bullshit.

“You could’ve snuck me a piece of bacon,” I said, scrubbing my hands through her thick fur in an enthusiastic full-body rub before I stood.

After a shower, I clipped Ellie’s leash to her collar—much to her dismay—and headed into town in search of sustenance. I followed Walter’s path from yesterday, and within three short blocks, downtown Bluebell Springs emerged like the opening shot to a fall-themed Hallmark movie.

“Violet has to see this,” I said, pulling my phone from my crossbody bag and navigating to the video messaging app that was our main form of communication.

“Hey! Proof of life,” I said into my phone’s camera as the app actively recorded my face. A backdrop of rich autumn colors and gold-dusted mountains filled in behind me, showcasing a gently overcast sky. Violet might consider this type of weather gloomy despite the sun peeking through the clouds, but to me, it was absolute heaven.

“We made it to Bluebell Springs late yesterday afternoon. Which I guess Mom already told you.”

I flipped the camera around to capture Ellie walking in front of me. Despite her irritation with being leashed, her tail was up, swishing happily, and her nose was lifted, taking in all the fresh mountain air and new scents.

The aroma of bacon wafted to me from some unknown place nearby, and my stomach growled so furiously I suspected the microphone picked it up.

A flash of a shirtless Luke Mason sitting at a small kitchen table, hair tousled, and a smile aimed at my dog as he offered her a nibble of his breakfast caused a lump in my throat, forcing me to clear it. I would not be telling my sister about that.

“I wonder if she recognizes Bluebell Springs,” I said of Ellie, replacing thoughts of ripped muscle with the distinct memory of Officer McGrumpy accusing me of leaving a gate open—one I’d never even seen, much less tampered with until I discovered Ellie was missing. That cooled me off a bit.

“And no, I haven’t reached out to Paws of Purpose yet. I will. Soon.”

Violet asked as much last night on the second video message she recorded of the boys at the hotel swimming pool.

I wanted a couple of days to get settled before I made that visit. To ensure I was clearheaded and wouldn’t attempt to adopt a brother or sister for Ellie. I was seventy-five percent certain I wouldn’t make any reckless decisions, but the tattered wedding dress stuffed in the guest room closet said otherwise.

My sister also asked, on a scale of wallowing in self-pity to feeling like the most badass version of myself, how I was doing. It was what we called the no-bullshit sister scale. We had a rule that if one of us asked, the other had to answer. Honestly.

The problem was I didn’t know how I felt. For someone who literally called off her wedding two weeks before she was supposed to go from fiancée to wife, I should be doing worse.

And yet, the most dominant feeling was . . . relief.

It didn’t make sense, but I wasn’t mad about it. I didn’t want to be a mess. I wanted to move on and put it all behind me.

“This is the cutest town,” I continued, keeping the camera pointed in front of me so Violet wouldn’t ask questions about the screwed-up expression on my face.

Businesses lined either side of the street, many of them featuring log exteriors. Open doors welcomed people in, and bright flowers hung in pots from the permanent awning. Pumpkins circled barrels filled with mums, and the sidewalk was one continuous string of wood planks, the boardwalk giving off one big covered-porch vibe. Large cedar-stained boxes were stationed in the middle of the street, colorful arrays of flowers stretching toward the stop signs built into them.

“Add twinkling white lights, and I’d wager I was in a Hallmark movie,” I added, the earlier gloominess lifting almost instantly as I took in the charming details. “Look! There’s Frosted Peaks Bakery, Grizzly Grocer—seriously, could you get any more on theme for a small mountain town?”

My head was on a swivel, taking it all in.

“And that sign! Adorable.” I stopped to zoom in on a sign across the street for Pizza Patty’s. It was purple and whimsical, featuring a dog and a patio umbrella. “We’re definitely eating there soon. Oh, look!” I swiveled my camera toward the two-story building in front of me. “A bookstore!”

The thought of sitting and reading a book cover to cover made me want to cry. My life had been nonstop chaos since Jason proposed. If all I accomplished these next few weeks was reading a few books before I had to return to reality, I’d consider the trip a success.

The door to Brenda’s Book Nook was propped open, and I nearly walked in until my gaze snagged on a sign for The Sunrise Skillet on the opposite corner of the intersection. Ah, there was the source of that bacon aroma. Ellie’s eager nose caught it too.

“We’re going to grab some breakfast,” I told Violet, returning the camera to my face. “Safe travels today. Tell my nephews I miss them like crazy and can’t wait to see them. Oh, I don’t know where on the scale it falls, but I’m . . . pleasantly numb. Okay, love you, bye!”