Chapter 1 Strays #2
“Lark just called. Someone spotted an abandoned dog about twenty minutes out, near the Miller property.” I grabbed my coat from the stand by the door. “We need to go before the storm gets worse.”
He didn’t hesitate. Didn’t ask if it could wait, didn’t suggest someone else handle it. Just grabbed his own coat and started checking his pockets for keys.
And that, very simply, was why I loved Beckett Sinclair.
“Abandoned dog?” Coop appeared beside us, shrugging into a jacket that had seen better days. “I’ll come too. Follow in my truck—more room if it’s a big one.”
“You don’t have to—”
“What else am I doing?” His grin was easy, but something flickered underneath it. Something that looked a lot like loneliness wearing a mask. “Going home to stare at my walls? I’d rather freeze my ass off doing something useful.”
Piper caught my arm as I headed for the door, Caleb balanced on her hip. “Be careful out there. And Merry Christmas, Audra.”
“Merry Christmas.” I squeezed her hand. “Hug those babies for me tomorrow.”
The cold hit hard when we stepped outside. The snow was falling faster now, thick flakes that swirled in the wind and cut visibility to maybe a hundred yards. The mountains had disappeared entirely, swallowed by white.
“I’ll follow you,” Coop called, heading for his truck. “Don’t lose me in this mess.”
“Keep up, old man,” Beckett shot back.
“I’m two years younger than you!”
“Guess those years hit harder for some people.”
Their joking faded as we climbed into Beckett’s truck, Jet scrambling into the back seat with his tail wagging. He knew. Dogs always knew when there was a mission.
“You okay?” Beckett asked as the engine rumbled to life.
“Yeah.” I nodded, watching the Resting Warrior lodge disappear into the snow behind us in the mirror. “Except for the fact that someone left a dog out in this weather to die. On Christmas Eve.”
“People are capable of terrible things.” His jaw tightened. “But they’re also capable of driving into a blizzard to help a stranger’s dog. Focus on that.”
We drove in tense silence, the windshield wipers fighting a losing battle against the snow. Coop’s headlights were a blur in the rearview mirror, but he stayed close. The road grew narrower, less maintained, drifts starting to form along the shoulders.
Beckett’s knuckles were white on the steering wheel. The truck shuddered as a gust of wind slammed into us from the side, and for one heart-stopping second, the back end fishtailed before he corrected.
“Shit, this is getting bad,” he muttered.
Bad was an understatement. The world had shrunk to a tunnel of white, the headlights illuminating nothing but swirling snow.
I couldn’t see the road anymore—couldn’t tell where pavement ended and ditch began.
Beckett was navigating by some sort of mixture of memory and instinct and superpowers, his jaw tight with concentration.
“Should be coming up on the Miller property,” I said, squinting through the windshield. “Lark said a mile past it.”
“If we can even see it.”
We almost didn’t. The barn materialized out of the white like a ghost, there and gone in seconds. Beckett started counting under his breath.
The mile felt like ten.
“There.” I pointed at a fence post barely visible through the snow. “That has to be it.”
Beckett slowed, pulling as far off the road as he dared. We both stared into the headlight beams, searching.
Nothing. Just snow and fence posts and endless white.
“I don’t see anything,” Beckett said.
My heart sank. “It has to be here. Ray told Lark—”
“Ray was driving earlier in better conditions. He might have misjudged the distance. Or maybe the dog left.”
I was already unbuckling my seatbelt, reaching for the door handle. “I’ll look on foot.”
“Audra—”
“We can’t just leave. If there’s a dog out here, hurt—”
“I know.” He cut the engine but left the headlights on. “We look together with Coop. Five minutes. If we don’t find anything, we have to go. This storm isn’t waiting for us.”
Five minutes. That was nothing. That was everything.
We climbed out into the wind. It hit like a physical force, stealing my breath, driving ice crystals into my face. Coop’s truck pulled up behind us, his headlights adding to the glow.
“Anything?” he shouted over the howl.
“Not yet!”
I walked the fence line, one hand on the rough wood to keep my bearings, squinting into the dark beyond the headlight beams. The snow was knee-deep in places, drifting against the posts. If a dog was out here, if it had burrowed down to escape the wind—
“We might have to come back,” Beckett called. He was ten feet away but his voice sounded distant, swallowed by the storm. “When it clears.”
When it clears could be twelve hours. More. No dog would survive that long in this.
I pushed forward another few steps, then a few more. The headlights were dimming behind me, the snow too thick. I should turn back. I knew I should turn back.
Then I saw it.
A darker shape against the white, tucked low against a fence post about twenty feet ahead. It could have been a shadow. A drift. A trick of the wind.
But it wasn’t.
“Beck!” My voice cracked against the cold. “Coop, over here!”
I stumbled forward, half-running, half-wading through the snow. The shape resolved into something real—a cardboard box, half-buried, collapsing on one side, tucked against the fence like someone had just... left it there.
I dropped to my knees beside it.
A growl. Low, warning.
Then a face emerged from the shadows of the box. A lab mix, maybe, with intelligent eyes and a protective stance. Thin. Too thin. But alert.
And beneath her, huddled together for warmth, four tiny bodies.
Puppies. Four of them. Barely two weeks old from the look of it, eyes just starting to open, making small mewling sounds that cut through the howl of the wind.
“Coop!” My voice cracked. “Beckett, there are puppies.”
He was beside me in seconds, Coop right behind him.
“Jesus.” Coop crouched down, his easy humor gone. “Someone just dumped them out here? Like garbage?”
The mama dog growled again, but it was weaker now. She was cold, exhausted, running on nothing but the instinct to protect her babies.
“Hey, girl.” I kept my voice soft, steady. “We’re here to help. I promise. We’re going to get you somewhere warm.”
She watched me with wary eyes. Deciding. Then, slowly, her body relaxed. Just a fraction. Just enough.
“Let’s move,” Beckett said. “This storm’s getting worse. We’ve got to go.”
We worked quickly—Coop taking the box with the puppies, handling them like they were made of glass, while Beckett coaxed the mama dog to her feet then picked her up. She was shaking badly, still growling under her breath, her eyes on the box holding her babies.
“You two need to get back to Pawsitive.” Coop was already shrugging off his coat, wrapping it around the shivering mama dog. “I’ll take them.”
“Coop—”
“The animals at the sanctuary are counting on you. This storm’s only getting worse, and you’ve got a barn full of creatures who need feeding and checking on.” He lifted the box of puppies carefully, cradling it against his chest. “I’ve got these guys. I’ll get them somewhere warm.”
He wasn’t wrong. And every minute we delayed was a minute the roads got worse.
“You sure?” Beckett asked.
“What else am I going to do tonight?” Coop’s grin flickered, that loneliness surfacing again before he buried it. “At least now I’ve got company.”
We loaded up—Coop with a truck full of dogs, us with an anxious Jet and a long drive through a worsening storm.
“Be careful,” I said through Coop’s window.
His grin flickered, almost reaching his eyes this time. “Always am.”
Then his taillights were disappearing into the white, swallowed by the blizzard.
Beckett reached for my hand as we pulled back onto the road. The snow was coming sideways now, visibility down to almost nothing.
“Merry Christmas Eve,” he said.
I laced my fingers through his, held tight.
“Best one I’ve ever had.”
Behind us, Jet whined softly. Ahead, the road disappeared into white.
But we were together. And somewhere out there, a mama dog and her puppies were finally warm.
That was enough. That was everything.
*
* Books from characters in this chapter:
Beckett & Audra – WARRIOR SECURITY: BECKETT
Lachlan & Piper (and twins) – WARRIOR SECURITY: LACHLAN
Lark – WARRIOR SECURITY: LARK’S SONG
Jude & Lena – MONTANA STORM
Lucas & Evelyn (Avery, Zeke) – MONTANA SANCTUARY
Hunter & Jada – MONTANA MEMORY
Daniel & Emma (Tyson) – MONTANA FREEDOM
Cooper – WARRIOR SECURITY: COOPER