I’ve left it on the kitchen table where I dumped my stuff. Today just keeps getting better. I’d been excited to see Atlas again, even though he was only coming over to fix the dryer. In my fantasy, I wouldn’t be covered in mud and I’d make him some coffee, completely in control this time. Instead, I’m looking for a lost dog in the dark woods without my phone. It’s stopped raining and the first stars are twinkling, Venus shining bright and clear up above. It would be beautiful if I wasn’t so stressed.
“Huggy!C’monboy….I have those gross beef treats you like…”
This isn’t like him. He’s the kind of dog who does something and then looks around to check you’ve noticed. ‘Insecure attachment’, the shelter owner calls it. A high-pitched yipping noise comes from the left, farther up the hill where the woods start to spread upwards into Snowflake’s mountain range. I quicken my pace, brushing through the low-hanging branches of the pines.
There’s a derelict cabin up ahead. Has Huggy found his way inside somehow? I jog towards it, out of breath with the effort. I’m made for walking, not jogging. The windows are boarded up, vines trailing up the outside. I push the door open. It’s so dark I can barely make out the table in the center of the room and the bedframe in the corner.
I walk over to the table and there’s a rustling sound from under the bed. I crouch down as the front door swings shut with a bang behind me, making me jump. A little wet nose pushes out and gives my face a lick.
“Huggy!”
He retreats right to the back again, so it takes some careful wheedling with the beef treats to get him to wiggle out. His brown and white fur is covered in dirt, but he’s not injured.
“Okay, Hugster. Let’s get you home.” I pick him up and head back over to the door. It won’t budge. I tug at the handle, trying to push it open with all my body weight, but it doesn’t move. I kick the door a couple of times, but it’s remarkably sturdy for such a decrepit house.
Huggy scrabbles to get down and I sit on the floor, exhausted.
“This is all your fault, little dude.”
He comes over after having a good sniff around the fireplace and leans against me. I should be making a plan about how to get out of here, but I’m too tired to even get off the floor. Hours of walking around looking for Huggy, plus the awful news about Lenny moving to Snowflake Falls have made me feel all out of good ideas. I close my eyes and scoot my back against the wall, my legs stretched out on the floor in front of me.
Huggy moves from my side to my lap, most likely for warmth.
I scratch him behind his ears. “Now I’m seeing how you got your name. Took a little time for us to bond, huh?”
I doze off for a moment before I’m woken by a loud banging.
“Hailey? You in there?”
My legs are sore, my head fuzzy, but I shout back. “Help! Yes!”
There’s a scraping sound and the door opens, the light from a torch shining in. Huggy starts to dance around in circles, barking ecstatically. Atlas is standing there, his huge shoulders filling the doorframe, looking even more like a superhero than normal. Ember is by his side, wagging her tail at Huggy.
Atlas inclines his head to one side. “Hi there, trouble. You’ve given me another rescuer moment. People will talk.”
Despite my exhaustion, I can’t help chuckling. “Glad to be of service.”
He walks inside, making the tiny cabin seem even smaller, then bends down to scoop me up. He smells of the forest and his own woody, amber scent. His body radiates warmth as he sets me on my feet.
“You’re cold. Wait. Drink this.” He reaches into his pocket and takes out a small silver hip flask.
“Perk of the job?” I ask as he unscrews it.
“I don’t drink when I’m working. But my aunt bought it for me a few Christmases ago. It’s good on those long winter walks my brother insists on doing, the kind where you feel like your feet are going to fall off.”
I smile and take a sip, then wince. Brandy. Yuck. “Your brother is Rion? The sheriff?”
“Yes. If you take another sip, I’ll tell you a secret.”
I roll my eyes but dutifully take another drink. It’s gross, but my cold feet start to feel warmer. “Done. Spill the beans.”
“His real name is Orion. My parents were really into star-gazing. So I’m Atlas and he’s Orion. But he’s embarrassed about it, so everyone thinks he’s just Rion, like a riff on the name Ryan.”
“Oh, I think those are cool names. My dad taught us the names of the stars when we were little. He told me about Halley’s Comet appearing every seventy-something years and I thought he said ‘Hailey’s’ comet.”
“I like that.” His eyes are bright as he gazes down at me.
“So you’re not embarrassed? About your name, I mean.”
