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I’m going through is common and that it’ll pass. I’d like to be able to talk to somebody else who’s in the same situation. I think I’m ready for that.”
    “I think you are, too,” Peter agreed, and she could sense his pride in her progress. “I’m happy to hear all this, Courtney.”
    She had wandered into the living room as she talked and now plopped down onto the couch. The entertainment center seemed a little bare without the pictures, but she didn’t let herself dwell on it. “I miss her, Peter. I miss her every single day. But I don’t want to be stuck in the same place for the rest of my life, you know? I don’t think she’d want that for me.”
    “I don’t think she would either,” Peter agreed.
    “I’d like to date. I mean, I’ve dated. A little. Here and there.” If she could even call them dates. “But I’d like to date the same person more than once or twice.” She laughed softly at that, as did Peter. “I’d like to have sex again, for God’s sake. Sex that means something. I’m only thirty-five years old. I want to fall in love again. I’m too young to be a widow forever.”
    “These are all very healthy, very normal feelings you’re having, Courtney. They’re good signs. You’re making progress.”
    Courtney crossed her legs at the ankle on the coffee table. “Yeah? Well, it certainly doesn’t feel like it sometimes.”
    “I know. But trust me. You’re doing great. Let me get the information for you on the group and I’ll get back to you, okay?”
    “I’d appreciate it.”
    “You’re doing great,” he stressed again. “You really are.”
    “Thanks, Peter.”
    She hit the Off button on the phone. Fatigue suddenly settled on her like a lead blanket. She knew there were three more boxes upstairs that needed to go out to the garage, but she couldn’t seem to command her body off the couch. She’d been working nonstop all weekend and now it was Monday morning. Already. And she was exhausted. All the things Rachel asked her to pack away or neaten or hide or change had been taken care of. Boxes of Theresa’s stuff were labeled with black marker and piled neatly in the garage, something she didn’t want to dwell on. There was a part of her that felt like she’d just relegated Theresa to cold storage, and that made her heart ache.
    In addition, the For Sale sign was going up today. She wondered if she was ready for that. Not that it mattered at this point.
    “Too late to turn back now,” she said with a sigh, hauling herself up off the couch, determined to take care of the last three boxes before her limbs protested completely.
     
    *
     
    “Holy cow, you’re a big guy, aren’t you?”
    Rachel scanned the chart on the clipboard that hung from the chain link gate. The dog was a mix of German shepherd and Lab and he was huge. He was almost five years old and his owner had passed away suddenly. No family members could take him and he’d ended up here at Happy Acres. His fur was falling out in clumps, which Rachel knew was due to his nervousness, and she immediately felt sympathy for him. She opened the gate slowly, murmuring reassurances to him. He watched her warily, his big brown eyes taking her in. She didn’t approach, though. She squatted in the doorway, leash in one hand, treat in the other.
    “Come here, buddy. Want to go for a walk? Get a little air? It’s kind of stuffy in here.” She held the treat out so he could get a good whiff. “You can have this if you want. Come on, Rex.”
    He looked from her face to the treat and back again, then scooched toward her one small inch at a time, watching carefully.
    Rachel made no sudden moves, knowing how scared Rex must be, how confused. First, he loses his master. Then he loses his home. Rachel’s heart broke for him. At his age and size, it would be next to impossible to find someone to adopt him. But if there was one thing Rachel Hart loved, it was a challenge. She also loved Happy Acres because it was an