As she watchedKevin work with Benny, April let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Kevin had taught Benny to sit and to heel and the dog never once got distracted. He led Benny back to the other puppies and got him to stay on his platform for a record amount of time. Both Alex and Shane praised him like he was the newest dog trainer at Watchdog.
Her son—her daydreaming, wild-hearted boy—stood beside Shane like he belonged there. His whole body leaned forward, trying to will that silly puppy into greatness.
“Yeah, I think Benny might just avoid washing out after all,” Alex said. “What do you think, Shane?”
“This is the first day he’s shown real promise,” Shane concurred. “I say we keep him on, give him another chance. You were absolutely right about Benny, Kevin.”
Kevin looked at Shane with a huge smile on his face and his eyes full of pride.
April felt that pride, sharp and hot behind her breastbone.
Shane and Alex weren’t just giving Benny another chance. They had agreed with Kevin. Shown him respect. Men who wore competence like a second skin. Men who were respected themselves, who walked into a room like they owned it.
Shane had just told her son he was right. Not that he was some cocky little upstart who ‘could use a little humility,’ as that jackass Principal Pirogue once said. Shane thought he was a boy who could read a person like musicians could read sheet music. A boy who could tell when someone felt scared, or small, or was pretending to be big. Who could sniff out injustice and bullshit the way military dogs sniffed out bombs.
And sometimes, yeah—Kevin spoke up. Called it what it was.
Which made him a ‘problem.’
Not at home. Never at home.
At school. At church. With people who only knew the stories about the Taylors and didn’t much care to rewrite them.
Her hands tightened around her elbows.
Kevin wasn’t missing anything because he didn’t have a father. He wasn’t broken or unmoored. He had other male role models to teach him about honor and loyalty or whatever else the people who judged Kevin all assumed a woman couldn’t provide.
He had Sonny. Her dad had been there since the day she came home, shaken but stubborn as hell. Her mom, Hannah, Brianna—they’d all wrapped Kevin in love so thick, he glowed with it.
But still.
Still, something about the way Kevin looked at Shane now made April’s throat go tight. He’d found a new pillar, strong and steady, someone who saw the same spark April did. Someone who didn’t flinch when Kevin asked hard questions or called out unfairness in that small but clear voice of his.
Shane didn’t shrink from that intensity. He matched it. Respected it. For the first time in a long time, someone outside her family saw her boy and didn’t either yell or just smile and say, “He’s a handful.”
Shane saidHe’s right.
And that scares me more than anything.
Because if she let herself believe Kevin needed someone else to respect him that much? Then she might have to admit that she still did, too.
“Let’s break for lunch,” Alex said as he glanced at his watch.
Shane raised his eyebrows at April—Are we still on?She nodded before realizing they’d reverted to the silent communication they’d used in high school. One look, and she knew exactly what he was thinking.
“Come on, Kevin. We need to get back to Riversong.”
“Aw! Benny was just warming up. Can I come back later?”
“We’ll see.” April caught Alex’s eye.
“I’m holding a class for the Boulder police K9 squad this afternoon, but you’re welcome back if Shane’s got nothing else going on.”
“Fine with me,” Shane said.
“Alex, would you like to come to lunch with us?” April asked. “It’s on the house.”
Alex grinned. “Next time. I gotta prep for class. But thanks.”
