Tires on gravel broke her out of her reading trance some time later. Nell leapt off the porch in a streak of greyhound muscle and speed to greet Kraken. She set her empty tea mug down and stood to watch Morgan walk up the drive. Morgan knelt to pick up a stick and tossed it for the dogs. Nell got to it first, but overshot and kept running, bounding over the grass that Emilia had let grow tall again because she liked the wildflowers. Kraken seized the opportunity and loped back to his person with the stick clamped firmly in his jaws. Morgan ruffled his ears and then looked up to smile at Emilia.

Would she ever get used to that? she wondered as electricity pulsed through her. Morgan walked toward her with her sure gait, her strong body moving smoothly as she mounted the steps to the porch and pulled Emilia into her arms.

“Nice sweater,” Morgan said.

“Kiss me, you idiot.”

Morgan obliged her. Emilia put her arms around her neck and allowed Morgan to remind her, quite thoroughly, how much she’d missed her over the course of the day. She broke away only when they were both breathless.

“I’ve been thinking,” she said.

Morgan kissed her neck, distracting her.

“About what?” Morgan asked between gentle nips.

“About getting you a key.”

“Really.”

Morgan’s hands broke Emilia’s train of thought. She let Morgan pull her toward the chair and was more than happy to curl up on her lap as Morgan banished the evening’s chill with her lips.

“Really. If you’d like one.”

Morgan looked up at her. As always, she fell into those eyes.

“I’d love one.”

“Well then.” Emilia dug into her pocket and pulled out the key she’d had cut on her way home. Home. She savored the word. Home was here, in this house, in this town, with this woman.

Morgan accepted the key like it was something precious. Emilia watched her face, loving the freckles across her cheeks and nose and the way her eyelashes brushed them when she blinked, and loving, too, the tenderness in the way Morgan held her—and beneath that tenderness, beneath the warm certainty of her smile, the sense of permanence that this, at least, was hers to hold onto.

Acknowledgments

Acknowledgments

Being married to a veterinarian opened my eyes to the realities faced by veterinary practitioners. The people who care for our animals do so despite pressures the rest of us can’t fathom, and Emilia’s struggles are not unique. They are, in fact, the norm. The next time you visit your vet, take a moment to thank them. Your words make a difference, and in some cases could even save a life. To learn more, check out Not One More Vet at www.nomv.org.