Page 8 of Winter Beginnings
Cass smirked. “You’re not gonna leave a single scrap behind, are you?”
I shot him a wry grin. “Why waste good bones? Cyrus’s taste might have been over-the-top, but some items are salvageable. Think of how unique they’ll look once the inn’s ready.”
“Then I guess we’ll be lugging a lot of furniture to get cleaned or re-covered,” he remarked dryly. “Luckily, I’m good at heavy lifting.”
My pulse gave a tiny jump at the mental image of him hauling antique sofas down the stairs, flexing biceps I was trying not to notice. “I appreciate the muscle,” I joked, hoping the warmth in my cheeks didn’t show.
We spent another hour scoping out a few upstairs rooms. Cass made notes on his phone regarding which items were stable enough to move without damage. I found myself enjoying the interplay—our partnership was natural. If we caught each other’s eyes too long, well, maybe that was just the adrenaline of a big project. Right?
Eventually, he checked the time, claiming he had to run to the lumber yard. I followed him downstairs, noticing how the house seemed less intimidating with him around. Near the foyer, the battered remains of a once-grand chandelier dangled overhead, and I imagined what it would like if the metals were polished, and the crystal pendants cleaned, throwing rainbows across the walls.
Cass paused at the door, offering a quick wave. “I’ll come by later to drop off some tools and supplies,” he said. “We can plan out tomorrow’s tasks, if that works for you?”
“That’s perfect,” I replied, tucking my notepad under my arm. “Drive safe.”
He gave a final nod before stepping out into the snowy afternoon. The front door shut with a gentle click, and a heavy silence enveloped the foyer.
Might as well see what else needs doing around here, I told myself, slipping into my coat.
I decided to take a brisk walk around the back of the mansion to scope out the neglected grounds. The wind made me shiver, but the fresh air cleared my head. Drifts of snow half-buried old hedges and overgrown brambles, which I suspectedhad once formed a charming garden path. Now, they were a tangled mess.
I was about to circle back when a faint, high-pitched whimper reached my ears. I froze, heart kicking. An animal? Carefully, I trudged toward the sound, weaving around brittle shrubs until I spotted a small patch of black fur caught in the thick brambles. My pulse surged. A little dog—trembling, whimpering, trapped by the prickly vines.
“Oh, you poor thing,” I murmured, heart twisting. Kneeling in the snow, I inched forward, hands outstretched so I wouldn’t startle it. The pup looked like a terrier mix, fur matted with burrs and ice. It let out a frightened yelp, pawing at the thorns that pinned it in place.
“Easy,” I whispered. “I’m here to help.” I worked slowly, prying away the brambles that clung to its fur. Each tug made the dog flinch, and once or twice, it whined in pain, but soon I freed it, lifting its trembling body to my chest. The dog’s ribs felt prominent under all that fur, and it let out a weak whine, muzzle pressing into my coat as if desperate for warmth.
Careful not to jostle the pup too much, I hurried back inside. The old kitchen offered some shelter from the wind, so I set the dog on a soft towel I found in one of the dusty drawers. It whimpered again, eyeing me with anxious curiosity.
“Shh,” I soothed, stroking its scruffy head. “You’re okay now.” The dog’s fur was tangled with bits of bramble—enough to make me smile wryly. “That’s what I’ll call you,” I decided softly. “Bramble.” As if sensing it had a name, the pup slowly wagged its tail, a feeble, grateful motion that made my heart swell.
I opened the door to the walk-in pantry, searching for anything I could feed the dog. Finding a can of chicken noodle soup, I poured it into a pot and warmed it on the stovetop, thenlet it cool until it was just lukewarm. Pouring a small amount into a bowl, I nudged it toward Bramble. The little dog sniffed, then lapped it up eagerly, letting out a tiny grunt of satisfaction.
“There you go,” I murmured, a relieved smile tugging my lips. It amazed me how quickly my day shifted from evaluating the state of the home’s furnishings and appliances to caring for a half-frozen stray. But in this big, empty mansion, another living creature felt like a blessing.
I’d just finished brushing more snow off Bramble’s fur when Cass stepped in unannounced, a swirl of cold air following him in from the foyer. Arms loaded with supplies, he halted halfway across the kitchen threshold, eyebrows shooting up at the sight of the small black dog nestled in the towel on the floor.
“I…uh…didn’t realize we had company,” he said, setting down a tool bag, several full totes, and a coil of rope. His puzzled gaze flicked between me and the pup, who cocked his head curiously at the visitor.
“Surprise.” I tried for a wry grin, though my heart still pounded from the dog’s rescue. “Meet Bramble. I found him tangled outside in the brambles—half-frozen and scared. Just brought him in, trying to warm him up.”
Cass stared a moment longer, his expression melting from confusion to empathy. “You rescued him?” He crouched, extending a hand so Bramble could sniff. The dog’s little nose wiggled shyly against Cass’s gloved fingertips.
“He’s got some burrs and tangles, but I think he’ll be okay.” I tucked a final tuft of wet fur behind the dog’s ear. “He’s definitely had a day.”
Cass smiled at that, softening as Bramble gently licked his glove. “Looks like you’re building quite the household, Ms. Lancaster. Furniture, half-finished repairs—and now, a pet?”
I spread my hands in mock surrender. “Well, guess I’m adopting strays now—houses, dogs… everything that needs rescuing.”
Cass let out a low chuckle, setting his gloves on the table. “Seems that way. Did you feed him?”
“Just a little soup for now,” I said, running a gentle hand over Bramble’s head. “He’s shivering less, but he needs actual dog food. I don’t have any at the moment.”
He nodded, glancing at the door. “My truck’s still warm. I can pop into town and grab supplies if you want—kibble, maybe a bed, some basics. Figure it’ll save you braving the cold later.”
My chest loosened in relief. “Really? That’d be a huge help.”
“Sure. No problem.” Cass cast another look at Bramble, who blinked sleepily. “Any preference on brand?”