Myrtle smiled widely and then displayed a basket he’d failed to note until this moment. Lifting it high, she waggled it before him.

And Val searched for a hint of the pity he’d expected to be greeted by that morn. Instead, only a smile met him.

He stared at her crooked smile, with two rows of teeth that, even with the generosity of her mouth, seemed to be in competition for space. Yet that smile, with two big dimples . . . entranced.

She gave her basket another little shake. “I’ve come with baked goods.”

At her side, Horace whined and whimpered, lifting a paw up toward that wicker article.

And another detail which had previously escaped him cut through the cacophony of his chaotic thoughts.

The sweet hint of apple and sugar hung in the air, and he sniffed once.

“Here, it is unfair to make you wait,” she cooed in those high-pitched tones she reserved for his dog, and then with Val briefly forgotten, she fished out a small tart and held it over to the dog.

Horace consumed that confectionary treat in one gulp, lapping her fingers.

The lady laughed and favored the dog with another pat.

And . . . everyone feared his dog.

Leave it to this woman to be the one who treated Horace like an enormous puppy.

Everything about her . . . unsteadied him. And he didn’t want to be unsteadied, damn it.

Val wanted his feet on a firm ground, where he was free to be the man he’d been since Dinah’s passing—a lonely one.

And she was getting in the way of his solitude.

“You need to leave,” he said frostily, infusing as much ice as he could into that statement to get her to go.

“Yes,” she agreed. The young lady paused and cast a glance over her shoulder, as if she were searching for something. Or someone? “But I do need you to come with me.” Myrtle leaned in and dropped her voice to a ridiculously loud whisper. “It’s why I’ve arrived with treats. To bribe you.”

“To bribe me?” he echoed.

“I’m teasing.” Her smile grew even bigger. “Well, sort of, I am. I do need your assistance, and I thought it would be polite to reward you with baked goods for helping me.”

He stared dumbly at her for a long while, that smile still firmly in place. She spoke to him without the pity he’d expected to be greeted by that morn, but rather with all the warmth of two people who’d been friends for a lifetime. Val, who no longer had friends. “You’re out of your damned mind,” he finally said.

“Hardly,” she scoffed. “I was going anyway and merely added to my order.” Myrtle glanced at Horace. “And I added some for you, too, dear boy!”

Dear boy?

The dear boy barked happily, his giant tail thumping the marble floor hard in a quick staccato beat.