Page 15 of Rescued Love

No matter the cause for how I felt, the time I spent here was like magic. It was a feeling I chased for a long time but was never able to recreate.

Then there was the way that Grandpa always focused so intently and solely on me when we were talking. He acted like there was no one else in the world more important to him than me when we spent time together. For a kid who felt like I was sometimes swept to the side in the busy pace of our family’s life at home, even though I know my parents never intended for me to feel that way, it was beyond special.

“You can’t change it, and we’ve had Mr. Jacobson’s back,” Ansel tries to assure me.

I know he means well with his words, but it feels like a punch to the gut. I should have had his back. I should have spared a little time, even if it was just a phone call. I got caught up in my own bullshit and forgot what is important.

I send Ansel a chin lift in acknowledgement. Curiosity gets the best of me, and I ask, “Do a lot of other people come out and help?”

Ansel grins and stands up, stretching out his back with a groan. “I swear my back should not ache like this,” he mutters. Dixon and I snicker. Honestly, my body has been protesting the increase strain over the last few days. He brushes off his pain and glances my way. “There are quite a few. I know some guys from the firehouse come out every now and again to help.”

“Yeah,” Dixon agrees, “especially when it’s time for the kids to come out for their tours.”

My eyebrows shoot up to my hairline because Grandpa never mentioned anything about kids coming out for tours. When Ansel sees my reaction, he chuckles and shakes his head.

“I’m not surprised Mr. Jacobson didn’t mention it. The man does not like to toot his own horn,” there’s a warmth in his voice that makes me glad Grandpa stayed in Sweetwater Valley. “The schools come out over a few weeks to learn about the animals. The older kids even do some work out here and help. The younger kids get to pet the animals and learn about a species they wouldn’t normally encounter since the closest zoo is a few hours away and it’s not a trip everyone can or does make.”

I glance over the house where I know Grandpa is resting as we gather up our supplies to move to another fence post and get everything secured. It’s clear from how quickly the guys are working that they’re used to doing this.

“That’s pretty awesome,” I admit, thinking about how going on field trips was always exciting when I was in school.

“Yeah. The school tries to pay him every year since they collect a small fee for the trip, part of which goes to pay for the extra bus use,” Ansel explains, “but he never accepts the money. He tells them to put it back into the school.”

“Sounds like Grandpa,” I admit, my heart soaring and sinking at the same time.

One thing we haven’t talked about is how he’s financially maintaining the care for the animals. I can’t imagine it’s cheap. That is part of the reason I was worried when Kimball showed up. What would happen if they found Grandpa lacking? What if they made him jump through hoops?

From the sounds of it, though, the sanctuary and Grandpa are beloved and respected.

Kimball’s beautiful face flashes in my mind and I wince internally. I’m almost afraid to ask about her specifically, but I also desperately want to know. I try to keep my voice even and aloof when I press, “And Kimball? How does she fit into all this? She runs the animal rescue, right?”

Ansel and Dixon exchange a look, one that is weighted, and I wonder if it’s because I haven’t kept the soul-deep interest in the woman out of my voice or if its because one of them is interested in her for themselves. That thought has my heart pounding in my chest as anger clouds reasonable thought.

“She does,” Ansel confirms. “Kimball is good people. She loves animals and lives to pair the right animal with the right owner. She gives her all to the rescue, which means sometimes she breaks her own heart.” He shakes his head sadly and looks away; my eyes follow him to find Mr. Whiskers fucking frolicking in the pasture. “Sometimes animals come in and they’re in bad shape. She wants to save them all.”

Fuck.

And I was a complete asshole to her?

Still, that doesn’t tell me much about her stance on Grandpa having the animals he does. But if she didn’t care, would she ever push people to come out and help? Something is screaming in my head that I judged her unfairly.

“She’s even brought animals out here for Mr. Jacobson to take in when it’s one that she knows can’t be placed elsewhere,” Ansel’s voice pulls me out of my spiraling thoughts about the dark-haired stunner. “There’s nothing Kimball wouldn’t do for an animal.”

Shame wraps around me at the memory of me hurling accusations at her. Hell, I was yelling while I did it.

She comes all the way out here to see my grandpa and is faced with an angry man she doesn’t even know. I bet I scared her, and the thought does not sit right with me at all.

As I glance at the house again and we work in silence for a few minutes, I know I’ll need to ask Grandpa about it. My job has taught me to be skeptical. Of people and their motives. Of the masks people wear.

These guys might be right about the woman who captured a bit of my soul with one look. But they could also be wrong.

I’m not willing to risk what keeps my grandpa going just yet.

“You should meet us at The Goose tonight,” Dixon breaks the silence, and I find myself grinning as I push the heavy thoughts about whether I fucked up to the side.

I quirk an eyebrow and challenge him, “Best burgers in the state?”

Dixon barks out a laugh before admitting, “They are pretty fucking good.”