Page 4 of Rangers Mountain Rescue

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I look at him and shake my head.

The boy watches what happens and looks… relieved.

Like he needed to know the dog had been safe.

“You took care of him,” the boy says.

“Someone had to,” I reply.

He nods. “Thank you.”

Then he adds, very quietly, “He ran off when the ambulance came.”

That lands heavier than it should.

Saint crouches in front of him. “What’s your name, kid?”

“Dylan,” he says. “Dylan Gray.”

“And your mom?”

“Aspen.”

I don’t know why that name sticks.

But it does.

They leave an hour later.

Buddy looks back at me as they are walking away.

I tell myself I don’t care.

The house feels… emptier without him. Maybe I’ll get myself a dog.

That night, Wolf looks at me and says, “You’re thinking about the kid.”

“No, I’m not.”

“You’re thinking about the dog.”

“…Maybe.”

He smirks.

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