Silence stretched between them.
“I’ll get the first flight I can,” Reva quickly promised, her eyes filling with tears. “Tell her I’m coming.”
4
Morning light slanted through the barn slats, golden and gentle, warming the worn wood and stirring the dust into quiet motion. Charlie Grace paused at the threshold, one hand on the weathered frame, the other pressed to her heart.
Jewel was curled up in a bed of old saddle blankets, her small body forming a protective curve around the bundle of pups tucked close to her chest. She’d made a nest of quilts and straw in the corner, just beneath the old harness hooks where barn swallows nested every spring. All six pups were nestled against her chest and belly, sound asleep. One had its nose tucked under Jewel’s chin, another sprawled across her arm like it belonged there.
Charlie stepped inside, her boots brushing the hay. The barn was cool still, holding the hush of early morning. She didn’t want to disturb the moment, but her eyes couldn’t look away. Jewel was softly humming—off-key and quiet, something she’d made up or borrowed from memory. Her fingers moved slowly through the pups’ fur, stroking them like she’d seen Charlie do with colts or sick calves.
“They didn’t cry last night,” Jewel said without looking up. “I kept my hand on ’em so they weren’t scared.”
Charlie Grace crouched down beside her. She smoothed a hand over Jewel’s tangled curls. “You slept out here?”
Jewel shrugged, not meeting her gaze. “I tried to go back inside. But they were cold.” Her young daughter rubbed her fist against her eye and yawned. “Can I stay home from school this morning?”
Charlie Grace lifted a strand of damp hair off her daughter’s cheek. “It’s Saturday.”
“Oh, yeah. I forgot.”
“Don’t you think you should come in and get some breakfast? Aunt Mo left for Idaho Falls to see her friend, so it’s up to you and me to fix the pancakes this morning.”
Jewel lifted and gently pulled her arm away from the sleeping pups. “Can I bring them with me?”
Charlie Grace shook her head. “No, baby. These are outside dogs.”
“But they’re little and we could bring them into the house for just a little while,” Jewel argued.
She held out her hand and pulled her daughter into a standing position. “No, baby.”
“But they’re mine, right?” Jewel looked up at her with those wide, earnest eyes that never failed to undo her. “I found them. That makes ’em mine?”
Charlie hesitated. Oh, sweetheart. She’d once said those same words, maybe even in this same barn, when she’d found a wounded jackrabbit and tried to hide it in the pantry to keep it warm. Until her dad discovered the situation and ordered her to carry it back outside.
Two days later, the jackrabbit went missing. It wasn’t until a year later that she learned that a coyote had gotten it. She’d loved animals her whole life, too—loved hard and fast and without understanding how things sometimes ended.
Charlie felt something tug deep in her chest, that old ache of love and worry tangled together. Jewel had always had a tender heart, but this was different. She wasn’t just playing caretaker. She was attaching—fast and deep.
Against her better instincts, she folded. “Okay, just this once. And only for a little while. Help me carry them inside.”
Her daughter’s face flooded with delight. “Thanks, Mom.” She bent and scooped up two of the pups.
Charlie Grace carried the remaining four as they headed for the house.
“They’re doing better today,” Jewel told her. “They didn’t cry last night at all. I think they like my singing.”
“I think they do, too.” Charlie Grace swallowed around the tightness in her throat. “Sweetheart, you know we can’t keep them, right?”
Her daughter stopped in her tracks. “Yes, we can. I’m taking care of them.”
Charlie smiled gently, but her heart dipped. “I know. You’re doing a beautiful job. But we can’t keep them.”
Jewel’s head snapped in her direction. “Why not? They need me.”
“Because this isn’t a kennel, baby. It’s a ranch. We’ve already got enough animals to feed, and a business to run, and guests coming in every week. Six dogs…that’s a lot.”
“But I found them.” Jewel’s voice cracked. “They didn’t have anyone.”
