“Don’t be shy,” Carolyn prompted when Mr. Kincaid only stared at the animal. “My favorite spot is behind his ear.”
“His, too,” Nick noted.
Mr. Kincaid lowered his blue-veined hand to the back of Riot’s head. Riot tilted his ear into Mr. Kincaid’s receiving palm and gave a low groan as the touch morphed slowly into a caress.
Nick fought to keep his lips from twitching when moments later Mr. Kincaid raised the opposite hand to Riot’s other ear and Riot’s foot tapped against the ground in answer.
A quiet, high-pitched sound rose from Mr. Kincaid’s throat. Laughter, Nick realized with a start. His face hadn’t transformed with humor, but his eyes crinkled at the corners. “You like that, do you?”
Again, Riot answered for himself by laying his snoot on Mr. Kincaid’s thigh.
“He’s not a purebred,” Mr. Kincaid observed.
“No,” Nick admitted. It was a common question. “I found him while hiking Dark Canyon several years ago.”
“I had a mutt once,” Mr. Kincaid said, running his hand almost absently down Riot’s back. “Ugly-looking thing. Best companion I ever had. Old boy outlived my first marriage. Went with me everywhere, even to church. He and I met when we ran across each other one day. He was living rough out near Elephant Hill. You know it?”
Nick nodded. “I do.”
“Sometimes I think he found me when I needed him,” Mr. Kincaid mused. “Not the other way around.”
Nick looked to Riot’s close-lipped smile. “I know exactly what you mean, sir.”
Carolyn’s hands were folded in her lap as she watched Mr. Kincaid’s face. “Would you like to see Riot when he comes back next week?”
“Suppose I wouldn’t mind it,” Mr. Kincaid said almost ruefully as he smoothed the fur on Riot’s face. He glanced up at Nick. “What’d you say your name was?”
“Nick,” he said, extending his hand. “Malone.”
“Malone,” he repeated. “You aren’t related to Margot?”
“She’s my mother,” Nick said.
“She has the room across the hall from mine,” Mr. Kincaid noted. “Sweet lady.”
“Riot and I think so, too,” Nick said.
Carolyn chuckled as she reached out to pet Riot. “She tells everyone that Riot here is her ‘granddog.’”
“Granddog.” Mr. Kincaid gave another one of his quiet, high-pitched laughs. “You’re here to see her then.”
“How has she been?” Nick asked, directing the question to Carolyn.
Her smile melted a few degrees. “She’s missed you.”
Nick felt a sharp stab of regret. “Is it a bad day?”
“She had PT this morning,” Carolyn explained, “so she’s a little tired.”
“Riot and I won’t wear her out too much,” Nick promised.
“I won’t keep you,” Mr. Kincaid said as he gave Riot a final pat between the ears.
“We’ll see you next week, Mr. Kincaid,” Nick replied, then clucked his tongue. Riot lifted his head from Mr. Kincaid’s pant leg and followed Nick inside.
Reilly Porter, River House’s administrator, greeted both man and dog with a broad grin. “I was wondering when you boys would show up today.”
“Ms. Porter,” Nick said with a nod, folding the end of the leash around his hand. “How are you doing?”
