Kneeling next to them, I give Whiskey a couple pats between the ears.“So what would you suggest instead?” I ask Indy.Flirtation is evident in my tone, and I can feel Dylan’s stare searing into my back.
Gripping my wrist, Indy uses me for stability as she stands. I follow her lead, and Whiskey rolls onto her back at our feet.
“Whimsey.” Indy nods.“It’s close enough to her name now where she won’t get confused, but it suits her better.” She grins, satisfied with her choice.
“Whimsey,” I muse, my lips pursing. Crossing my arms over my chest, I turn to Dylan.“Whaddya think, Dyl? Whimsey instead of Whiskey?”
“I guess,” he answers, but he’s looking out into the pasture at the horses, not really paying attention to us anymore.
Indy rolls her eyes.“It’s perfect.”
“Then it’s settled.” I reach down and pet Whimsey behind the ears, never breaking eye contact with Indy.“If you think it’s perfect, then that’s what we’ll call her.”
Jessie pulls me from the memory, handing me a flashlight. A fresh line of tears sits on her bottom lashes, and I squeeze her shoulder appreciatively as I grab the flashlight with the other hand.
“I’ll find her,” I reiterate before heading back to my truck and pulling a flannel jacket from the backseat.
The door slams shut, echoing across the quiet ranch, and I set my sights on the woods.
Gravel crunches under my Nikes, then the crunching turns to a softer murmur of dry grass breaking.
As I walk, I shove my arms into the sleeves of my jacket.
“Whimsey!” I call, my voice echoing through the open field. “C’mon girl!”
The scent of damp earth grows stronger the closer I get to the tree line, and I shine my light past the thick trunks of the redwoods.
There’s no dog barking in response, or jingling of her collar. Instead, the woods are quiet, sans for the faint hoot of an owl as it wakes up.
Dammit, I curse, knowing she’s somewhere deep in there. The last thing I want to do is trek through the woods, but so many of us love this damn dog. I'd be gutted if something happened to her, and I made a promise to Jessie.
And Indy… She’d be devastated to hear that Whimsey is lost—she still asks about her even to this day.
Iwillfind her.
“Whims!”
She never wanders this far, and it sends a spike of fear jolting through my bloodstream. She’s thirteen with stiff joints and cataracts. I’m pretty sure she’s half-deaf.
I tighten my hold on the flashlight and drag my other hand down my face.
All I want to do is relax.
I try not to think about Indy the further I pad through the forest, buteverythingmakes me think of her, so of course this does too.
She only came out to the ranch that one time, and I’ve been dying to bring her back since. But there’s never been another opportunity to.
Dammit though, I want to call her. I want her to talk to me while I find the dog that meant so much to her that weekend she spent here. The dog she still buys treats for off Chewy and asks about nonchalantly whenever she has the chance.
I angle the light down, keeping an eye out for paw prints or any indication Whimsey may have gone in this direction. My steps are careful not to disturb the forest floor, and I step over fallen branches, moving further into the cool covering.
“Whimsey! C’mon girl!” I call again, stopping to listen.
My chest tightens as I’m met with silence. Winding through the trees, pushing closer to the lake, my mind drifts back to Indy. I picture her so clearly—the upturn of her lips as she fights a smile whenever our eyes meet, the way she bites the inside of her lip whenever she’s holding back from saying what she’s really thinking. The feeling of her body against mine as she melts into the kisses I steal from her every time we’re together.
The forest thins as the dirt loosens, the sight of the lake coming into view. There’s a fallen tree log along the side of the water my dad and I moved when Cody and I were kids, so we’d have a place to rest against while tossing rocks into the shallows.
Through the dark, I catch movement, and my pulse quickens with hope.
