Chapter 28
twenty-eight
Willow
Moose drops something on the ground, then gives me his goofy grin. After a beat of hesitation, he runs to me, gives me a lick, then turns to Noah and does the same. His belly is covered in mud, his tongue hanging low.
“What you got here?” I ask. But before I can cuddle him more, he dashes away from my reach, picks up what he dropped off, and runs up the trail, away from the village.
I turn to Noah. “What’s he doing?”
Noah jumps to his feet. “Let’s find out.”
We sprint uphill, trying to keep up with Moose. Halfway up, he darts off trail, leading us through thickening underbrush. Trampling ferns and ducking under low branches, we follow him until we hear little cries.
Under a hollow boulder, a big brown and white dog is nursing three puppies, Moose whining in frustration. He pushes his offering closer to her then trots to us.
“He brought her meat!” I whisper.
“Hey, big boy,” Noah says, petting Moose. “What do we have here? A little secret family?”
We take a few steps closer, and the mamma dog growls.
Noah and I crouch next to Moose to make ourselves look as harmless as possible, but the mother still seems anxious.
“Let’s back up,” I say.
We backtrack to a safe distance. “I can’t believe he’s bringing her food,” Noah whispers as we crouch and observe the dogs from afar.
“I wonder where he found it. Justin would never let him into Lazy’s kitchen, and even then…”
“I hope he doesn’t go through people’s garbage. Who knows what he could find there.”
Oh shit. Yes. Feeling both worried and proud of Moose, I watch as the mamma dog shakes her puppies off her. Standing on wobbly feet, she wolfs down what Moose set next to her.
“Wonder how rotten that meat was,” I say as she lies back down with a satisfied grunt, letting her puppies crawl hungrily over her.
Moose turns toward us and whines, then turns back to the litter, running half circles from one side of the boulder to the other, defining a perimeter he seems to protect for his little family.
Noah smiles. “Never seen a dog in love before.”
“So sweet. How are we gonna do this?” I ask.
“No idea.”
Something passes between us. We don’t need words as we decide to take this dog family under our protection.
“Mom is going to be worried, might even get aggressive, if we try to take her puppies. Let me see how close to her I can get.”
“Careful, though,” Noah says, strain in his voice.
“Hey,” I whisper, getting on all fours and crawling gently to her.
She raises her head for a beat, then drops it, panting.
“How you feelin’? Not great, huh?”
“I’m calling Justin,” Noah says softly.
“Hey, sweetie,” I coo while Moose continues his semi circles in front of the hollow cave, now encompassing me. That has to be good, right? I’m in the protected zone. Part of them. Surely she understands that.
When I’m close enough that I could touch her, I lie down on the soft moss of the forest floor, still alert.
Just because Moose trusts me doesn’t mean she will.
The three puppies’ eyes are closed. They aren’t walking yet and barely crawling.
They’re only a few days old, if that. Their pink tongues dart out in the most adorable way, and their chests lift with rapid breaths.
My attention quickly shifts to the mom. Under the deceitfully ample fur, she’s extremely thin, bones poking, ribcage showing. Her back leg bulges at an unnatural angle—likely a poorly-healed break.
“We need to get her to the vet,” I say softly to Noah, who relays the information to Justin.
Then, purposely ignoring the puppies so I don’t worry her, I stroke her paws, then scratch her side. When she’s groaning in contentment with eyes half closed, I risk sitting up.
Her eyes dart open.
“Hey,” I whisper and move my hand up her back to scratch between her shoulder blades. She gives me satisfied grunts.
Moose lies down three feet from us, head on his paws. The puppies fall asleep, two right next to me, tucked against her belly, and one hiding between her front paws.
“This is good,” Noah whispers. “Let her get used to your scent so she trusts you.”
Less than an hour later, Justin and Chloe arrive with a crate, a wheelbarrow, and blankets in both. “Trail is too narrow for anything else,” Justin explains in a low voice. “Think she’ll let us fit her in there?”
The mamma dog barely lifts her head at their voices. My eyes fill with tears. “We gotta hurry. Bring the crate.”
Chloe hands me the crate, spreading the blanket. “Hey, mom,” I coo, “we’re going on a little family trip, okay?”
She lifts her head as I softly pick up each puppy. She half grunts, but there’s no fight in her gaze.
“Let’s go,” I snap. There’s no time to lose.
Noah grabs the crate while Justin positions the wheelbarrow next to me. I lift momma dog in my arms—as I suspected, she’s much lighter than she looks—and place her as comfortably as I can. “I’ll walk next to her,” I say.
Noah goes first with the puppies. Momma dog hangs her head out the wheelbarrow to look at them. I scratch her between the shoulders and she relaxes. Moose runs in front and around us, and Chloe is right behind, on the phone with the vet.
“He said to drive everyone right over,” she says when she ends the call. “We left the truck at the trailhead.”
Good. That’ll be quicker than going all the way back into town.
“You really should get Moose neutered,” I scold Justin.
“Oh, he’s fixed alright,” Justin says. We maneuver in silence through a narrow part of the trail, and he adds, “Not sure what happened there, but those aren’t his puppies.”
“Aww that’s double the sweet,” I can’t help but coo, giving Moose another pet as he reaches my spot before running to the front again.
“It’s the Emerald Creek bug,” Chloe says.
Noah glances over his shoulder. “The what now?”
“You know. The found family thing,” Chloe answers.
I chuckle at my friend’s accurate description. So many people have found their tribe here, why not the dogs?
That evening, the four of us share dinner at the kitchen counter—tomato soup from Clover’s Nook, cheese, and a hearty country bread.
Mamma is snoring in the mansion’s kitchen, rehydrated and her belly full.
The puppies got a clean bill of health and are tucked against her and each other, the furry group lying on thick blankets, making cute little squeaky noises.
Moose goes to lick her, but she growls at him.
“Nice to see you have your bite back,” I say, smiling.
“She’s tired, Moose,” Noah says.
“Leave her be,” Justin adds, pulling gently on his collar. “You did good.”
Moose grunts and ambles to Chloe, poking her hand up. She gives him a head scratch “Yes, you did great.”
“You sure you’re okay with that?” Justin asks, his chin pointing at the four canines sleeping in the kitchen.
Noah beams. “Are you kidding? Best thing ever.” Blushing, he pulls me into a side hug. “Second best thing ever.” I feel his heart boom as I lay my hand on his chest in the public gesture of affection that I’ve perfected.
I look up at him, telling myself I’m playing the loving wife for Justin and Chloe’s benefit, but our eyes lock for a beat, and Noah sets his glasses on the kitchen counter.
Two. His gaze drops to my lips.
Three. My knees weaken.
“Alright, well, we’ll be on our way,” Justin says, wrapping Chloe under his arm and giving Moose a quick whistle.
Their footsteps recede, and the only sound is our heavy breathing—and a few squeaks from the furry balls in the corner.
Familiar voices sound in the foyer, but we ignore them.
When the door slams shut, Noah’s hand glides down my arm, and he pulls me from a side hug to a full-on embrace. My gaze drops to his lips, my body tensing for him to lower his mouth to mine.
Footsteps sound outside the kitchen, but we ignore them.
He takes a deep breath, like he’s in pain or something, his eyelids heavy. His free hand lifts my chin just so, his thumb grazing the side of my face.
My tongue lazily wets my bottom lip.
The kitchen door bangs open, but we ignore it. “Ohmygod what is this?!” Lane runs to the dogs.
Noah closes his eyes and grunts.
Mamma dog growls.
Lane yaps, scared.
The puppies yap, happy.
Mamma dog snaps at Lane, who cries, looking down at her finger.
“Yeah, you kinda provoked her,” Noah says, not looking at Lane.
“I know! She scared me. The skin didn’t even break,” Lane says. “Who is this?”
Noah turns me around so my back is at his front, his arms wrapped around my collarbone while we give her an account of the situation. Before long, Lane has the puppies on her lap.
“We should go to bed,” Noah murmurs loud enough for Lane to hear.
Panic strikes me at the implication of his words. I want this, yet it scares me.
Lane stands, carefully setting the puppies next to the mamma dog.
Noah tenses, letting go of me. “Where’s pretty boy?” he asks, shifting the awkwardness from our situation to hers.
“You mean Jake?” she responds icily. “He had to go back to work.”
I feel her sadness hit me in a wave. “Are you okay?”
“Goodnight,” Noah says to no one in particular as he leaves the kitchen.
“’Night,” Lane answers, not cluing in to the fact that she’s interrupted something, and her brother is pissed.
Me? I’m confused by what just happened, and I think Noah is as well.
We got carried away by an overload of puppy cuteness, and one thing leading to another…
. To be honest, I’m relieved we were interrupted.
There’s no reason to make things more awkward than they already are, and I have no interest in being a temporary fling for Noah.
Because if he felt something for me, surely he’d tell me.
“Can you tell my brother not to be such a dick to me?” Lane grumbles once he’s gone.
“What do you mean?” I ask as I refill Mamma’s bowl of water.
“He’s not the only one who has a right to happiness,” she quips as she straightens the blankets pooling under and around the dogs. “He’s not the boss of us, you know. I thought he’d cool it now that he got married, but it doesn’t look like it.”
I turn the lights off, the glow from the fridge’s ice dispenser bathing the kitchen in soft blue. “Is this about Jake?”
She leans against the counter. “It’s about whoever. I’m twenty-two, Willow. I think I can sleep with whoever I want. And just so you know, this house isn’t just his. He can’t tell me ‘my house, my rules.’”
I haven’t heard Noah say that, but I bite my tongue. There’s history there, one I don’t know. And she’s clearly wanting to talk to me. “You care about him—Jake?”
Even in the dim lighting, I can make out the tears shining in her eyes. “Yes,” she whispers.
“Then… what’s the problem?” One of the puppies crawls away from the blanket, and the mamma drags it back by the scruff of its neck.
Lane wipes her tears with the back of her hand. “I… he… I want to make my life in New York. I have interviews lined up and he… he says he’ll be settling here, in Emerald Creek.”
I frown, curious. “Really? What… does he work from home?” Didn’t she just say he had to go back to work?
“That’s not really the point, but no. He’s in land management or something. The point is, I’m falling for him and I hate myself for that. I don’t want to change my plans for some guy.” She pushes herself from the counter.
I wrap my arm around her shoulders. “Then don’t.”
“But he’s not some guy to me. I know it’s new but it feels so right. You know what I mean,” she says as we leave the kitchen, closing the door carefully behind us.
My voice catches when I answer, “Yes, honey, I know what you mean.”