Someone was definitely outside . . . but who? And what were this person’s intentions?
CHAPTER 3
An hour later,Max stepped out of the house and into the cold, pulling the door shut behind him.
They’d convinced Lyndee to stay. Kenny, however, had jumped into his truck and squealed away. Sheriff Sutherland had put out a BOLO for him.
Max hadn’t planned on pressing charges, but the sheriff had convinced him that doing so might be the best thing for Lyndee. He was still thinking it over. Sheriff Sutherland would have to take statements from everyone if he decided to go that route, but he still had some time to decide.
His conversation with Sheriff Sutherland had gone about as well as he could’ve hoped. The sheriff had watched the footage from their security cameras here at Refuge Cove, and he’d clearly seen that Max hadn’t been the one to throw the first punch.
Though that was a relief, the night felt unfinished.
He crossed the yard toward the kennel, scanning the perimeter as he walked.
Everything appeared normal. The kennel stretched long and deep along the east side of the property. The place had its own entrance and parking area so people dropping off their dogsdidn’t need to venture into the secure area around Refuge Cove. The keypad at each door assured no one would get in without the proper authority.
That brought him a little comfort.
He pulled the kennel door open and stepped inside.
The warmth hit him first, followed by the sound of dogs rousing from their sleep. Collars shook and jangled, claws hit the concrete, and one canine—Taco, a chihuahua—let out a yippy bark.
He walked to Juno’s pen and peered inside.
Hadley sat beside the whelping box, a pile of used towels gathered near her knee, their edges darkened from the work that had just been done. Six small bodies pressed close against Juno’s belly, shifting and squeaking as they rooted for warmth.
Juno lay on her side, her chest still rising and falling faster than normal, but her movements had softened. Every few seconds, she bent her head to lick one of the puppies, nudging them closer, instinct taking over where effort had just been.
A faint metallic scent lingered beneath the familiar smells of disinfectant.
Max stopped, taking it all in.
In the middle of everything that had happened tonight—fear, violence, things he couldn’t undo—something beautiful had pushed its way through anyway.
New life.
Hadley looked up at him. Exhaustion lined her face, her hair pulled loose in places, a faint smear along her sleeve—but her eyes held something else.
Relief.
Hope.
“Aren’t they beautiful?” she asked softly.
“They are.” Max let out a slow breath, some of the tension easing from his chest. “All healthy?”
“All healthy, although the runt is a little smaller and slower than I’d like.” She glanced back at the pen, and the corners of her mouth curved. “Juno was incredible.”
He stepped closer, crouching near the edge of the pen.
For a moment, neither he nor Hadley spoke. They both just watched as the puppies shifted against each other in small, blind movements, guided entirely by instinct. They were mostly the color of chocolate, but a few of them had white spots. If he had to guess, the father wasn’t a lab.
It would be interesting to see what the puppies looked like when they were a little older.
He glanced at Hadley again. “You doing okay?”
She smiled softly. “I’m tired but happy.”
