Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 115468 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115468 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
In all the mayhem, the raccoon babies had obviously tired themselves out. They’d ceased wriggling and clawing, and I was able to dislodge the one from my head and hold them both against my chest as we headed back to where Rory was on the side of the road.
As we raced toward her, she turned, her expression still distraught as she moved aside. Easton and I both came to a skidding halt. Easton stared down at the animal, clearly dumbfounded. “Easton is a paramedic,” I told Rory breathlessly.
“Oh, thank God,” she said with a small sob.
“It’s a raccoon.” Easton blinked over at me like I’d lost my marbles.
“Yes,” Rory hiccupped. “Can you save her?”
“It’s a raccoon,” he repeated.
“Yes,” I said, “we realize it’s a raccoon. She was hit by a car and these babies need her. Is there something you can do?”
Easton’s gaze moved from Rory, to me, to the babies now asleep in my arms, back to Rory. Something seemed to come into his expression. I didn’t know him well enough to guess what it was, but I hoped to God it was understanding. “I can try,” he said kindly. Rory exhaled, scooting aside as Easton leaned over the animal and started chest compressions.
My gaze hung on Rory as we watched Easton work on the animal. Rory’s eyes were wide with hope, even though with each passing minute, it was becoming more and more clear that the racoon was gone. I couldn’t do anything to bring the creature back to life, but I wanted to. I wanted to change the laws of nature, to strike some sort of deal with the powers that be, that would deliver to this girl the thing she was so fervently hoping for. I would have if I could have. And the power of my desire to make her happy, to manifest her every wish, to the realization that I might sell my own soul to bring back a raccoon, for her, scared me senseless. And yet, there it was, and it couldn’t be denied. The world brightened, then dimmed and did a strange turn that tilted me upside down and then just as suddenly placed me back on my feet.
“I’m sorry,” Easton said somberly after another minute, even though I could tell he’d given it far longer than was necessary to know his efforts were useless. The animal had likely died the moment it had been struck by the car. “At least we tried.”
Rory nodded, another tear slipping down her cheek. “Yes,” she said as she stood. “Thank you. Easton, right?”
“Yeah. Easton Torres. I’d shake your hand but…” He gave a small shrug and looked down at the deceased animal with which he’d just been delivering hands-on medical care.
“I appreciate what you did,” she said. “At least we can know we tried everything.” She looked over at me, taking in a long, shaky breath as she stared at the sleeping babies in my arms. “Oh,” she said, the word more breath than sound, and there was so much sorrow in it, my heart squeezed again. “They have no mother now.” For a moment it looked like she was going to dissolve into tears again, but she took in a deep breath, her shoulders rising and falling as she got control of her emotions.
No mother. Just like her. I imagined that this hunt for her father, and discovery of her mother’s long-ago diary entries, was ripping open emotional wounds. Maybe to Rory they weren’t just wild critters, or part of the animal world she loved so much—perhaps they signified a mother being torn from her young who still needed her, the way that her own mother had been torn from her.
“I have an idea,” I said. “Easton, will you, uh…” I looked down at the animal. What was the protocol for roadkill?
“I’ll call the appropriate authorities to take care of her,” he said.
Her. I’d heard a lot of things about Easton Torres, whispered tales that suggested he was a ladies’ man, but I was learning that whether or not the rumors of his exploits were accurate, what was true, was that he was kind. “Thanks, Easton. I mean it.”
He gave me a nod. “No problem.” He looked at Rory. “Are those dogs yours?” He pointed backward to where the dogs were sleeping under the tree, obviously completely unbothered by their role in recent deadly events.
“Yes,” Rory said. “Well, I mean, no, but I was walking them. I’ve got to get them home to their owners.”
“How about I drive you after the…pick-up occurs?” Easton said, glancing down at the dead raccoon. “I have a truck parked just over there,” he gestured up the street.
“Is that okay with you?” I asked Rory.
“Yes, I’d like to stay until someone picks up…her body.” She took in another shaky inhale of air. “What will you do with them?”