Remi stretched into the scratch, shifting as Blaze found the itchy spots, and his dark eyes half-closed in ecstasy.
“You’re a good boy, aren’t you?” Blaze murmured, scratching Remi’s whole back.
The dog drooled his response.
Small cords in the dog’s skin—scars—snaked under Blaze’s fingers.
“Such a good boy, standing guard out here all these years. You know what it’s like to be on the wall, boy. Don’t you?”
Remi’s hind paw vibrated, and Blaze leaned into the scratch as Remi’s eyes closed entirely.
“You’d be a good,goodcompanion to the veterans I talk to, wouldn’t you? You’d be a good puppers for them, let them talk to you about standing guard against foxes and eagles, wouldn’t you? Wouldn’t you, good boy?”
Remi slowly collapsed to the dirt and rolled over, baring his fluffy tummy for a belly rub.
Blaze obliged. “Such a good puppers, a fellow brother-in-arms. We have to pack up these chickens in an hour or so to take them to Abigail’s farm, where you’ll be safe. My job is to keep you and the livestock and Sarah safe.”
The previous night, when he’d gone to get the ropes from his duffel bag in the guest room, he’d sent texts to the Bully Boys, aborting the operation. Concern for their well-being and good-natured griping about missing the battle had filled his text feed this morning, but they’d all turned around for home.
Blaze still needed to call the suppliers of food and weapons to cancel those orders, but the evac was critical.
Remi’s fluffy fur was rough cotton under his hand, and he rubbed the dog’s tummy as he stretched at his feet.
“The foxes and eagles are your job, and I wouldn’t dream of infringing.Who’s my good boy?”
The farmyard brightened as the line of fire on the horizon fattened to a slim arc, and red light streaked the dark sky.
Sunrises felt foreboding. Blaze had started many operations in the early dark and watched the sun swell into a violent and terrible day.
16
THE MISSION OBJECTIVE
BLAZE
Blaze walked back into the kitchen, catching the screen door behind him and closing it so it wouldn’t bang the frame.
Sarah was already bustling around making breakfast.
Her phone lying on the table chimed, and then it did it again, and again.
He asked, “Do you need to get that?”
“No, it’s just—” Her lithe hands fluttered as she side-stepped to the other counter. “It’s just SnipSnap DMs from people wanting tarot readings. I always get inquiries, and my regulars heard I was online last night. It’s been pinging all morning. Breakfast will be ready in a minute.”
She pressed the lever on her scarred metal toaster. The bread slices dropped inside, and the scent of browning bread and burning crumbs wafted into the air.
Her phone pinged again. Andagain.
“We need to evac the animals and get on the road.” Blaze surveyed the sunny side-up eggs in a cast-iron skillet, frying in what smelled like butter, on the stove. “Just turn everything off and pack a few things. We can get breakfast at a rest stop and buy anything we forgot.”
She rinsed a strainer full of strawberries and raspberries in the sink. “It’ll take just a few minutes.”
Blaze dropped his voice lower.“Sarah.”
She looked up, startled.
The night before, he’d realized that Sarah needed permission to leave the farm, that she’d needed him to discipline her like a brat into leaving, so he’d done it.
