Goddess, Awakened. Cate Masters

you be staying today?” Joss directed the question at both Gram and Lydia.

      Lydia tightened the belt of her robe. “I have an appointment this afternoon. I need to get dressed and vamoose.” She sauntered into the dining room.

      Mouth agape, Annie watched. “She’s a wonder.”

      Gram sighed. “Exactly. We won’t define what sort.”

      Joss gave a wry smile and filled the bucket with hot water mixed with dishwashing detergent.

      Pouring coffee, Annie chuckled. “It’s a shame she couldn’t stay to help.”

      “She’s better at existential projects. But I appreciate you coming.”

      “I wouldn’t miss it.” Annie grabbed the three sponges off the counter. “I’ll go say hi to Charlie.”

      Joss carried the bucket to the front room where Charlie finished tugging the last tarp along the floor, the clustered furniture in the center already covered. They set to work in easy camaraderie.

      When Lydia and Gram said their farewells, Joss took a short break to see them outside. On the porch, Taz barked once when Lydia tooted the horn.

      By noon, a pile of shredded wallpaper sat atop the tarps. Joss ran her hand along the wall. “Some parts are still tacky. Diluted fabric softener should take care of it.”

      Charlie stood back to assess their handiwork. “In a way, you’re lucky the paper was so old. Newer types can be tough to remove.”

      Giving her shoulder a squeeze, Annie brightened. “I’m starving.”

      Joss’s stomach grumbled in reply. “Yes, let’s eat.”

      Annie drew her to the kitchen and unpacked the cooler. The chicken salad pita pockets lined with lettuce revived them, and they worked past six.

      Before leaving, Charlie hesitated at the door. “Same time tomorrow?”

      “Absolutely.” An uneasy vibe emanated from him and Joss suspected the trouble. “I forgot to ask earlier. Would you like to be paid at the end? Or every week?”

      His face relaxed. “Weekly would be a big help.”

      She gave a reassuring smile. “I’ll have a check ready for you Friday.”

      Charlie nodded. “I appreciate it. See you in the morning.” With a wave, he left.

      Joss ran her hand across the smooth bare wall. “I’m so glad we found Charlie to help.”

      “I know. I’m pooped. I’m going home too.”

      Stripping the wallpaper sapped Joss’s strength for the day. Gratefully, she crawled into bed after showering. “It’s going to be great once it’s done, Taz.”

      The dog leapt up and nestled against her legs with a sigh, and Joss fell into a deep sleep.

      * * * *

      The next morning, freezing rain pelted the windows. Her muscles aching, Joss pulled the covers over her head. No, she reminded herself. Today I want to finish priming the front room. And Annie and Charlie would be arriving soon.

      Forcing herself out of bed was no easy task, especially when Taz burrowed deeper into the covers. “Traitor.” Grinning, she tousled his fur.

      Shaking off the early November chill, she told herself the work ahead would make her forget the bad weather. After a quick shower, she threw on old sweats and sneakers and clipped back her hair on both sides. Fortified with fresh coffee, she began.

      She had already primed one wall when Charlie arrived, and Annie soon after. About mid-morning, she caught the movement of a vehicle down the driveway. “Who’s here?”

      A quick glance hardly interrupted Charlie’s roller stroke. “Looks like Doc Hendricks.”

      The name sent a buzz through her.

      The dark blue SUV stopped outside the stable, and the vet jogged to its doors, hunched against the elements.

      “The barn must be cold.” She hadn’t meant to say it aloud.

      “Invite him in.” Annie nudged her.

      “No, he’s busy.” But it’s such a raw day. He could use a hot drink.

      He needed something all right, but nothing she could give him. An internal battle raged within the veterinarian. Their initial brief encounter left her reeling for days, unable to negotiate the tsunami of emotion beneath his hard exterior.

      Taz finally lumbered down the hall, sat down and yawned.

      “Good morning, sleepy head. Do you need to go outside?”

      The dog sneezed and looked disdainfully toward the wet window. At times, Taz’s other half—Labrador—seemed to take over his brain. Joss joked he had the brain of a lab and the nervous system of a border collie. Still, when grief snuck up on her—and it still did—he’d snuggle against her and gaze up at her with soulful eyes. She treasured Taz because John had given him to her. To keep her company when he was no longer there, he’d said. To guide her. It had struck her as odd, since he’d been so opposed to any talk of magic or the fae.

      The memory stung her grief to life. To quell the raw ache, she did what she always did—spun into motion. “Come on. A little rain won’t hurt you.” Pulling open the door, her heart leapt to her throat, and Taz rose, barking.

      The vet stood on the threshold. “I was about to knock.”

      His strong presence overwhelmed her. She could only stand there, bracing herself.

      * * * *

      The sight of her mesmerized him. Eric purposely ignored the inn, changing his jogging route to avoid passing. To avoid seeing her. Like a school boy, he dreamed of her at night. During the day, she popped into his mind unbidden.

      Dr. Avery, the large-animal vet, had asked Eric to fill in during his vacation. Unfortunately, one of the horses needed immediate attention, according to the owner. He couldn’t put an animal’s welfare above his own comfort. Or lack thereof.

      No less luminous than the last time he’d seen her, Joss stood before him, her lips slightly parted, blinking in surprise.

      The dog’s tail wagged even though he still barked.

      “Morning.” Idiot, saying good morning to the dog in front of them. A hazard of the veterinary profession, one he normally didn’t allow others to view.

      Taz’s wagging tail swept the floor.

      With a downward thrust of her hand, she commanded, “Go outside, boy.”

      In passing, the dog nudged Eric’s hand, so he patted his head.

      Straightening, she stared after Taz in surprise. “Can I help you?”

      His throat dried and his voice withered like a November leaf. “My cell’s dead. Any chance I could use your phone?”

      She stepped back. “Sure, come on in.”

      Apologetically, he glanced at his wet coat. “I’m soaked. I could go around to the kitchen.”

      His humility might have touched a soft spot because she inclined her head toward the desk. “No, you can use this phone.”

      After wiping his feet, he sloughed water off his coat and stepped inside.

      Tension subsided when Annie and Charlie both said, “Hi.”

      Before Joss could close the door, the dog ran in and shook, droplets flying from his fur.

      “Wait, Taz. Sit and don’t move.” Joss hurried to the hallway closet and returned with an old towel. “Everything all right?” She knelt to rub down the dog.

      Work, he had no trouble talking about. He relaxed.