The Time of Her Life. Jeanie London

that sweet plan was still months away. With any luck he’d fix everything that needed fixing before signing the final papers, so Susanna could get a few repair-free months. Then the grief would belong to Northstar.

      The dogs had accompanied Jay on each of his visits, and tonight was no different. They ran beside the golf cart as he steered into the yard then they bolted for the door.

      Jay whistled, but the dogs ignored him, nails clattering on the wood as they clambered up the porch steps. Following, he found the door ajar and hoped Susanna had left it open; otherwise, he’d be back again tomorrow night to replace the lock.

      “Butters, Gatsby,” he called through the doorway, hoping the beasts hadn’t trashed the place.

      That familiar high-pitched greeting from the back of the house sparked another round of barking. Jay stood in the threshold, undecided about whether to wait for an invitation. He didn’t want to be as rude as his dogs, so he remained outside, listening to the commotion within.

      Butters and Gatsby liked Susanna. Jay wouldn’t admit this aloud, but he could tell everything he needed to know about a person from his dogs. They were the best yardstick. Might sound crazy but he’d learned the trick while trailing his great-grandfather to the barns when this place had still incorporated a farm.

      “Animals will tell you what’s going on in a person’s heart,” Great-Granddad had said. He’d been gesturing to the goats and herd dogs, but he’d meant all the animals on the farm. “If they shy away, you’ll do well to shy away, too.”

      Wisdom or wives’ tale, Jay couldn’t say, but the advice had stuck and hadn’t yet failed in all these years.

      “Lose anyone?” Susanna’s voice brimmed with laughter as she appeared with the dogs flanking her, their shaggy tails wagging close to lamps and knickknacks.

      She’d already changed from her work clothes into jeans and a pullover sweater that outlined her trim curves.

      “Boys,” Jay said, and both dogs finally decided to show some manners by obeying the command. “Sorry about that.”

      “Not a problem. They’re such sweethearts. I invited them to visit any time they like. And I promised some treats as soon as I shop.” Reaching down to ruffle Gatsby’s chest, she displayed a wedge of creamy skin when her sweater rode up on her waist. “Sorry, boys. I’ve got grocery shopping on my to-do list, but I can’t seem to get there.” She glanced at Jay. “What do they like if and when I do actually make it to a store?”

      It was such an innocent glance to accompany an innocent question. She was being nice, he knew, but when he met her gaze, her eyes so blue they looked almost purple, her one nice gesture drove home how closely their lives had become entwined in the short time since her arrival.

      He wondered what she’d been eating if she hadn’t shopped. Liz, the dietary manager, had been sending lunches to Susanna’s office, but that couldn’t be all Susanna was eating, could it?

      “Dog bones if they’re eating like dogs. Chicken and steak when they’re not.”

      She smiled in that quick way of hers, as if she was just looking for reasons to smile. “They’re in luck, then. Dog bones will go on the grocery list, and I cook chicken and steak.”

      “If you spoil them, you’ll never get rid of them. Consider yourself warned.”

      “They’re welcome here anytime.”

      The greedy beggars could spot a sucker a mile away. They crowded around her legs until she felt obligated to pet them and make those squeaky cooing sounds again. Jay took the opportunity to shoot off a text to Pete, who was duty manager tonight.

      “So how are you settling in?” Jay asked when she finally realized the dogs would vie for her undivided attention all day if she let them. “Place working out? It’s small.”

      “It is,” she agreed, “but it couldn’t be more perfect.”

      That smile still tugged at the corners of her mouth as she surveyed the room, looking pleased. “Just me here.”

      “Saw the pictures of your kids all over the place. Will they be coming to visit?”

      She nodded, her features softening with a mother’s expression, all fond memories and love. “Hopefully Thanksgiving. My son plays baseball, so his schedule can be tricky with practice and ball camps.”

      There was a lot of longing in that statement, which said something about how much she cared. Something reassuring, which calmed a bit of the guilt that still crept up when he least expected it. And when he did.

      Was he being selfish to want the kind of life that made him sound like Susanna did, a life where he had something more to look forward to than home repairs, the never-ending needs of the facility and dementia? Was that really too much to ask? He still lived in the house he’d been born in. He’d put in his time.

      “I know you haven’t asked for my advice, Susanna, but I’m going to give it, anyway. Make a point to get off the property. There’s a lot going on in town, and it’s good to get away. The Arbors has a way of commandeering time. We call it Standard Arbor Time and it’s nonstop, around the clock.”

      “I think I’ve seen a glimpse of that this week.” She sounded charmed by the idea.

      Jay supposed he shouldn’t be surprised, with the way she worked from sunup to sundown. But something told him busy was exactly the way she wanted to be right now. Funny how life had them in exactly the opposite places. She’d reared her family and wanted to be busy. He wanted to get busy rearing a family and filling his days with something other than dementia care.

      He wondered how long ago her husband had died. Had his death been unexpected? Jay didn’t ask. Her personal life was none of his business even if there had been some tactful way to ask about a dead spouse. There wasn’t.

      Leaning against the arch separating living room from dining room, she folded her arms over her chest. “Amber mentioned a mall by the racetrack. And I read about a historic plantation I’d like to visit that’s not far from here.”

      “That’s a start.” And then they were staring at each other across the expanse of newly polished floors and overly friendly dogs. He might have kept standing and staring except Butters sidled toward the wall shelves, knocking some sense into Jay.

      “The golf cart?” he prompted, forcing himself to stop enjoying the view. “It’s easy to operate, but you need to know about the battery. Chester will keep his eye on it. You let him know when it needs to be fueled.”

      “I can park it near the maintenance and engineering shed where you keep yours?”

      He nodded.

      “Please show me whatever you think I need to know. I didn’t mean to keep you. You were kind to offer your help.”

      Pushing away from the wall, she breezed past him with that same breathless energy and graceful motion he noticed every time he looked at her. She headed outside and he moved to follow, but the dogs cut him off, nearly knocking him over in their haste to trail her. Sorry beasts.

      Jay headed after them, making sure he didn’t pay attention to the gentle sway of Susanna’s hips as she took the stairs with light steps or to the dark curls bouncing on her shoulders. She chatted the whole way as if she didn’t want to hear any more silence between them, either.

      “I understand from Gerald that your grandmother is responsible for building the main facility. What about this cottage? There are so many antiques.”

      “This place was my mother’s.” Her hideaway from the world.

      “She collected antiques?”

      “Sort of. Stuff she picked up here and there. My place is filled to the brim. She has a collection of mantels. You’ll have to see them one day.”

      Had he just invited Susanna to his place?

      There