Page 97

Before she could answer, something rustled outside the tent. Mac’s head snapped toward the sound.

Jodie put down the brush. “Wait,” she whispered. She was closer to the tent flap so she carefully unzipped it and peeked outside.

The dog was curled against the tent. Her heart melted.

“Oh, buddy.”

His eyes opened. Jodie started to reach for the piece of jerky she’d tucked into one of the tent pockets. Maybe she could coax him⁠—

Mac’s hand rested lightly against her back.

“Let him be.”

She looked over her shoulder at Mac. He nodded toward the dog. “This is a huge step for him.”

Jodie hesitated, then left the jerky where it was.

“Okay.”

She zipped the flap closed again, leaving a small gap.

“Jodie.”

“Okay, okay.” She zipped the tent all the way up.

Mac reached up and turned off the lantern, then stretched out beside her. Jodie settled down too and he pulled her into his arms. She kept glancing toward the corner of the tent.

“He’s still there,” she whispered.

“Mm-hmm.”

She smiled into the darkness.

Outside, the dog shifted softly against the dirt, then went still again with a contented sigh.

Jodie woke while the sky was still pale. She’d spent the night trying not to toss and turn, and when she did sleep, her dreams were full of stampeding horses, helicopter rotors, and flames. Sniffing the air, she knew why she’d dreamed of fire. The air smelled faintly of smoke.

Beside her, Mac was still asleep. She carefully slipped out from under his arm, pulled on yesterday’s jeans and a sweatshirt, grabbed the jerky and their travel mugs, and unzipped the tent.

The dog was gone.

Jodie stood there for a moment, ridiculously disappointed.

Of course he’s gone. He’s a stray dog, not a houseguest waiting for breakfast.

She zipped up the tent behind her and headed toward the camp tables, where a few other early risers were already moving around in the predawn gray. Coffee had properly been deemed important enough to risk Hank’s electrical system, and Melissa, who was on cook duty, had put out bagels, fruit, and a tray of warm-up breakfast burritos wrapped in foil.

“Thanks,” she told her as she grabbed three burritos, one for her and two for Mac. “These smell delicious.” Jodie poured coffee into the travel mugs, added creamer to hers, and headed back to the tent.

Halfway there, she caught movement. Two familiar bat-ears above a pair of curious eyes and a twitching snout looked out from behind the tent.

Jodie grinned. “There you are. Morning, buddy.” She walked slower, trying not to scare him off.

He stayed where he was, watching her. Then he slowly came around to the side of the tent.

Encouraged, Jodie set the travel mugs and Mac’s burritos down beside the entrance. She unwrapped the foil from her burrito and took a bite. She plucked out a piece of sausage and walked slowly toward the dog.

He stayed where he was, his stump of a tail slowly wagging.