Daisy rushed to help as I checked the couple in, Dad appearing to carry their bags upstairs for them while Emelia sagged against her husband when he gave me their information in a dull, tired voice.
When he fumbled and dropped his credit card, Petunia rushing forward to sniff it just in case it was food, he frowned and swore softly in Spanish before wincing at me. Daisy quickly retrieved the card, handing it to me with a soft pat for the disappointed pug, while Emelia crouched to scratch Petunia's ears with a tiny smile on her face.
"Sorry," Amos muttered. "It's been a long day and we're both worn out." He looked down at his wife, face expressionless. "A long six months." He met my eyes then, his deep brown ones lined with old sorrow. "The sheriff told us this was the closest place to stay. Thanks for taking us on short notice."
"My pleasure," I said. Winced at the terminology. But he waved off my expression.