Page 8 of Rangers Mountain Rescue

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Again.

Aspen notices.

“So,” she says slowly, “I don’t suppose he’s been… too much trouble?”

“He stole a sandwich and claimed a chair,” I say. “But we’ve seen worse.”

She smiles.

A real one this time.

“I can keep him on a leash,” she says. “I promise. I just… I think he gets anxious when grandpa is having a bad day.”

Dylan looks up. “He always stays near good people.”

I look at the kid.

Then at the dog.

Then back at his mom.

“…We can keep an eye on him during the day, whenever he comes into town alone,” I hear myself say. “If that helps.”

She freezes.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” I say. “We’re… home a lot.”

That is the understatement of the century.

Her eyes go shiny.

She blinks it away fast.

“That would help more than you know,” she says.

Ten minutes later, Buddy is back in our building with a new water bowl and a very smug expression.

Dylan waves like he’s leaving his best friend at summer camp.

Aspen hesitates.

“Thank you,” she says again. “For being… kind.”

I shrug. “Don’t make a big deal out of it.”

She smiles at me like she knows I’m lying.

Later, Wolf leans against the wall and says, “So. You’re running a doggy daycare now.”

“It’s temporary,” I say.

Buddy puts his head on my knee.

Wolf grins. “Sure it is.”

And for some reason…

I don’t argue.

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