“Ah, that’s where you get it from,” Walker muttered, hiding his quick smirk with another bite of eggs.
Bishop shifted under the table, straightening to rest his head on Boone’s thigh. Those puppy dog eyes were impossible to resist. He slipped a piece of egg from his plate and offered it. The dog took it with a gentle nibble, the whiskers around his mouth tickling Boone’s fingers.
“He likes you,” Johanna said.
Boone found himself smiling without meaning to. “Yeah, well. He’s got bad judgment.”
But even as he said it, everything roiling around in his chest settled. The dog’s acceptance was so simple, so uncomplicated. Bishop didn’t care about his record or his past. He just wanted to be near him.
The rest of breakfast passed in a surprisingly comfortable silence. Boone ate mechanically at first, then with genuinehunger as his body reminded him it had been running on empty for too long. Bishop occasionally shifted position but never strayed from his side, as if he understood the tenuous thread of connection between them and was determined not to let it break.
When they finished, Boone rose to help clear the dishes, but Walker waved him off.
“Go on. Take Bishop out. We’ll handle this.”
He hesitated, torn between the ingrained need to pull his weight and the unexpected gift of being dismissed from a chore. “You sure?”
“Go on,” Walker repeated, nodding toward the door. “Dog’s been waiting long enough.”
As if understanding the conversation, Bishop stood and padded toward the door, looking back at Boone expectantly. His tail gave a single, hopeful wag.
“Leash is right there,” Johanna called as he followed the dog. “And there’s a heavier coat in the closet that should fit you. It’s going to be cold out there.”
The coat was there, exactly where she’d said, a heavy canvas work jacket lined with flannel. Boone slipped it on. It was suspiciously new and fit perfectly.
Had they bought this for him, too?
The thought should have made him uncomfortable, but it didn’t. They’d thought about him. Prepared for him. Expected him to stay.
Bishop waited patiently while he fumbled with the leash, clipping it to the collar with hands that weren’t quite steady.
Outside, the world was transformed. Snow had fallen steadily through the night, covering the yard in a blanket of pristine white. The ranch looked different in daylight—less foreboding, more like something from a postcard. The mountains rose in the distance, their peaks lost in the clouds, and the air was so clear and cold italmost hurt to breathe.
Bishop moved forward, his paws breaking the untouched snow, leaving a trail of prints behind.
Boone followed, keeping the leash loose between them. He didn’t need to guide the dog; Bishop seemed to know exactly where he wanted to go, leading them along the edge of the property toward a copse of pines that stood sentinel against the white landscape.
Under the trees, the snow was thinner, dappled with shadows and the occasional fallen pinecone. Bishop sniffed curiously at the base of a trunk, then lifted his leg.
When the dog finished, he looked up at Boone, and damned if there wasn’t something like a smile in those eyes. As if to say,“Well, it’s official now. You’re my person, and this is our place.”
Boone reached down and scratched behind his ears. Bishop leaned into the touch, his eyes half-closing in contentment as his back leg started to thump the ground.
“I guess we’re stuck with each other, huh?”
The back leg thumped the ground harder, and the dog gave a full-out groan, leaning harder into the scratches.
“You don’t seem to mind.”
Bishop fell over, but bounced right back to his feet and shook it off.
Maybe this dog had the right idea. Live in the moment. No dwelling on the past, no worrying about tomorrow.
Boone unclipped the leash, letting Bishop bound through the snow. The dog leapt and spun, kicking up powder in glittering clouds, then charged back to Boone’s side only to dart away again.
“You like it here, huh?”
Bishop buried his nose in a drift, then emerged with snow coating his muzzle. The dog sneezed and shook his head, his tongue lolling out in what could only be described as a doggy grin. He looked ridiculous and somehow perfect.
