Bramble stared back, unrepentant, then he trotted over to the forge door and scratched at it once, turning to look at Anson expectantly.
“You want to go out again? You just came in.”
The wolfhound scratched more insistently.
“Fine,” he sighed and pulled open the door. Cold air rushed in, and Bramble stepped halfway out before pausing and looking back at him with an expression that clearly said,“Well? Are you coming?”
“I’m not going back out there. It’s freezing, and I’m done making a fool of myself for one night.”
Bramble huffed, his breath forming a cloud in the cold air. He stepped back inside, circled back toward the workbench where the note sat, and whined once, low in his throat.
“Jesus Christ,” Anson muttered. “You want me to deliver it now? It’s almost midnight.”
Another nudge, more insistent this time.
Anson sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “You’re pushy for a dog who spent his first month here hiding under my bed.”
Bramble gave him a look that was somehow both patient and exasperated.
“Fine. But if her light’s out, we’re coming back. I’m not waking her up.”
Bramble galloped ahead. He followed more slowly, his heart hammering against his ribs so loud he was certain she’d hear it before he even reached her door. The folded paper felt impossibly heavy in his hand.
He paused at the base of her porch steps. A sliver of light still shone beneath her door. Not too late, then. He climbed the three wooden steps, each creak announcing his approach, and raised his hand to knock.
His knuckles hovered an inch from the wood. What if she’d changed her mind? What if the letter was just a polite way to let him down easy?
Before he could retreat, Bramble scratched at the wood, then sent him a side-eye that clearly said,“Coward.”
Fuck. There’s no way she hadn’t heard that when Bramble was the size of a pony, and his paws were like sledgehammers.
He should drop the note and run. Disappear back into the darkness before she could open the door and see him?—
The door swung open.
Maggie stood there in socked feet, her dark hair loose around her shoulders. She looked softer somehow, without the wariness that had shadowed her face earlier.
“I saw you coming,” she said, nodding toward the window. “Thought I’d save you from having to knock.”
“Thanks.” The word came out rough, but at least it came out.
They stood there for a moment, the silence stretching between them.
“I, uh, brought this.” He held out the note, feeling ridiculous. “I was going to deliver it in the morning, but Bramble had other ideas.”
A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth as she reached down to scratch Bramble’s neck. “Smart dog.”
“Too smart sometimes.”
She took the note, her fingers brushing his. The brief contact sent a spark of warmth zinging up his arm despite the cold night air.
“Do you want to come in?” she asked, stepping back from the doorway. “It’s freezing out there.”
He hesitated and looked behind her at the cabin. It looked small. Intimate. Claustrophobic.
“I—” His words died in his throat as his gaze caught on something behind her. The TV was frozen on an image, paused mid-frame on a woman in work clothes standing in front of an exposed wall stud. A woman with dark hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, wearing safety glasses and holding a hammer.
Maggie.
