Young, Allyson - Broken [Running to Love 2] (Siren Publishing Allure) by Allyson Young Page B

normally as much as she cared to undertake. The folks in the store treated her politely, if distantly, and she responded in kind, yet there were none of the pleasant weather-type comments and such she heard them sharing with the other shoppers. The curiosity had probably not dissipated, but they respected her boundaries. She had already forgotten Roger Bend and his cousin. He was just another chore to attend to when she came to town until she had mastered the pistol she had finally obtained all the necessary permits for. If Roger came on her property to fuck her and threatened to shoot her dogs again or harm any of the injured or orphaned animals she cared for, she would kill him. She had already spoken with the state police and had made certain the grounds were laid for a self-defense eventuality. It was doubtful that he had told anyone of what he was doing to her as blackmail to keep her animals safe, and equally doubtful he really had a cousin to introduce her to. People knew Roger Bend, and she had no doubt that they would view him as the villain and her the innocent. It never occurred to her to ask for their help. She would never ask for anyone’s help again. It destroyed a person when one took the proffered hand and then it ripped out one’s heart.
    Tara Larson drove up to her home after closing the gate at the end of the lane. Murphy and Law cavorted alongside the vehicle, and a number of cats in a myriad of colors poured around the side of the house across the porch. She knew them all, their personalities and their stories, had named each and every one. The fox with the broken foreleg gazed out at her from the kennel tucked under the shade of the jasmine vine, relaxed and unworried, and the fawn curled up on the doormat bleated in hunger. She had a variety of birds in various sized cages, all in different stages of recovery. She never kept a wild animal once it was healed, but sometimes they visited. Renaud the fox was in a kennel so the dogs wouldn’t play too hard with him while she was away, and the door wasn’t even shut tightly. He had accepted the safety of the roomy crate when she had offered it to him. The fawn had probably run the property line with the dogs, and she hoped its mother would come back sooner than later before it totally bonded to her. The cats regarded Murphy and Law as protectors, and the minor squabbles among her guests invariably settled the moment she came into sight. Tara Larson was nearly fully engaged in her revised reality. When she died, she would hope that the domestic creatures would survive under the terms of her will or have passed on before her. The latter was unlikely given the state of her heart. She knew it was in fragments and didn’t know how it continued to power her body.
    After unloading the groceries and feeding the rest of the menagerie, Tara Larson pulled the fawn onto her lap while she sat in the rocker near the front door. She pushed the long nipple attached to the soda bottle into its mouth and contentedly watched it suckle a full half litre of formula before it dozed off in her arms. Tara Larson closed her eyes and rocked, ignoring the soreness between her legs and the unceasing pain in her heart.

    * * * *

    Kyle found the wandering road to Knoll House after inquiring at the post office.          The bird-like woman behind the counter had been quite willing to oblige.
    He was bemused by the woman’s interest, which was quickly followed by detailed directions. The caution that people weren’t welcome at Knoll House even though the lady who lived there was a nice little thing, who always supported the stores in town and never bought from the outsiders, although she was a bit odd one might say, was offered as an afterthought.
    He left his vehicle at the gate and walked the rest of the distance. The two large dogs he had seen in the pictures raced toward him, bellowing threats and assuming aggressive stances, but Kyle calmly forged ahead, and they