Chapter 10

Nathan woke the next morning to the oddest sound.

Nothing.

No cars driving by, no far off traffic.

However, if he listened really hard, he could hear something.

Leaves rustling. Go figure.

And beyond that sound, there was something else, something musical punctuating the space.

Bird calls. Twitters. Warbles. It was a whole damn bird symphony.

He closed his eyes again, snuggled into the pillow. Soft. Warm. Quite firm. Not exactly like a pillow…

He pulled back strongly, forced his eyes to focus, and when they did, they focused on a tan little doggy ass.

“That’ll teach me to relax.” He swung his feet to the floor, glanced back to see the puppy open his eyes, then close them again. “Nice to know I’m making such an impact.”

He got up, made his way to the kitchen. Thought about the night before, when they’d actually half bonded, after Uncle had left. Once he’d fed the dog, it had seemed to want to play, so even though he couldn’t get close to it to cuddle or hold it, he’d tossed an old balled up sock and the dog had sank its teeth into that joyfully and the game had started. Crazily, he’d enjoyed it. The soft thud of the sock on his shoe. The puppy’s vibrant interest.

After that, Ryker had whined at the door. Even though Nathan was tired and wanted to get to bed, he knew that was his cue to take the pup out.

And the next forty-five minutes had passed in a blur.

Confronted with the outside, the dog had stalled. Utterly. Would not go outside. Finally, Nathan had picked Ryker up by the scruff of his neck, carried him to the edge of the woods, and let him go.

And the dog came to life. Ran at late evening bugs, buried his nose in the soft plants guarding the forest floor, nipped at things.

And after a bit, Nathan had taken the old ball out that he’d found buried amidst some old dried-up weeds in the yard, called for Ryker, and thrown it.

And Ryker had run after it, his little ears flapping behind him in the wind.

This is what some people have, all the time.

Last night had been so gratifying with Ryker, that he’d actually googled a few things about dogs online after. Even though the dog was still sketchy with him. He’d fallen asleep, then this morning woken up to the pup’s butt.

But a man was coming to see him today, about a dog. Ryker was going to leave with him, and then he’d just be a memory.

* * *

He opened the fridge, and Ryker was at his feet, peering into its cool insides. “Hungry, boy?”

No dog food, but there was a bit of that takeout sandwich left. He tossed a few leftover bits of it into Ryker’s bowl, who ran to the bowl, stuck his nose in it and seemingly inhaled the breakfast. Then he lifted his eyes to him, watched every move his mug made from the table to his mouth, lived through every gulp of hot coffee he took.

Something hurt, and Nathan squashed it quick. “It’s the last time we’re doing coffee together, mutt. Don’t get your hopes up.” He gave the dog a look, watched it watching him. And a bit of sadness wound its way around his heart.

He tried to force his mind onto his to-do list once the dog left. His car had died, and he had to deal with that. Find work. Save money. Buy food, pay bills. All of it.

He sighed, shot another look at the dog, who was staring at him with his head to one side. He almost smiled at how cute it was, but then his gaze fell upon the property tax bill and the corresponding documents Uncle had left.

He couldn’t afford a dependent. Not emotionally, or financially.

A pounding on the door split the silence. Ryker’s eyes went wide and he skidded immediately to the corner, behind the cabinet by the fridge, just where he’d gone with Uncle last night. Poor thing was freaked.

Great life he was providing it.

Yeah. This dog needed someone much better, a much more stable life.

The banging stopped briefly, then started up again. The door shook in its frame.

Time to move to the next phase.