“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” He lifts an arm for her to curl under, and she takes the invitation to lay her head over his heart.
“No. I was coming way too hard to feel anything else.”
His soft touch rubs up her spine and back down again, and Kara falls asleep to the steady thud of his heartbeat below her ear while endorphins tingle muted across her nerves.
* * *
It’s well into the morning when they emerge bleary-eyed, wishing for coffee and a shower but having neither.
What they do have, however, is a small brown dog just below the steps of their camper.
It’s not angry anymore, even wags a matted tail and does a happy little spin as if they’re all friends now. Kara frowns, cursing under her breath as they make their way to the fire pit to cook breakfast.
She can’t pet this dog. Isn’t going to try and stop Wade, though, who’s already kneeling down to rub an offered belly.
“Betcha haven’t seen real people in a long time, have you, buddy?” Wade coos. “Hey, it’s a girl, and look at her collar.”
Reluctantly, Kara moves closer to inspect the pink collar they hadn’t noticed before, buried in fluffy fur and covered in little white flowers and red cherries.
She swallows hard, pushing the lump in her throat down. “There’s no tag. We don’t know her name.”
“Well, we ain’t naming her.”
He gets up, heading for the fire with a dog hot on his heels, trying to respect her desire not to keep this animal, but she only feels worse now that it’s taken a shine to them.
They make a quick breakfast and share some with their guest before watching her play with a stick a few feet away, entertaining herself as she’s probably grown accustomed to without any company.
Once they leave, she’ll be alone again for who knows how long, relegated to a life of solitude with nothing but a dead body for companionship. The longer Kara watches this dog, the more she begins to hate the idea of that.
Any soul this loyal deserves a softer place to land.
“I don’t know how we’ll travel with her on the bike,” Kara finally says, watching Wade’s face light up.
“We could fashion a sling or something. Maybe put her in a backpack and see if she’ll stay still. She’s small enough. No bigger than a little watermelon.”
“Just…promise me we aren’t saying this is forever. Only until we find someone else who wants a dog. Life on the road like this isn’t good for pets.”
It’s all false objections, but he lets her get away with it. “Deal. What are we gonna call her?”
“Cherry?”
“Cherry! Come here, girl. Come on,” Wade pats his leg and the damn dog runs right over like it’s been her name her whole life, dropping a stick at Kara’s feet and nudging it with her nose.
“This is only temporary. Don’t get used to this,” she says to Cherry, before throwing a stick for the dog they are most definitely not keeping.
She doesn’t agree only because it’s obviously the right thing to do, but because of how happy it makes Wade. He is always making her smile, and she has every intention of trying to do the same for him.
Chapter 36
The dog fits perfectly in Kara’s backpack.
They tie a leash found in the trailer to the inside just in case, but she seems content to sit there with her head peeking out.
Kara says it’s only temporary. Wade knows why she’s so against keeping this dog. He can’t blame her. He feels it, too. That hidden ache stuffed down deep at the idea of another heartbreak, even if it’s a dog they’ve only recently befriended.
Their traumas have settled and begun to scar, but there isn’t much room left for more branches on those trees.
It’s not the dog that worries him today. It’s the fact that she’s been distant. Part of him wonders if she’s grown tired of how close they’ve been, not emotionally but physically. They’ve practically tangled up together at every opportunity. He tries to tell himself it’s just the change of finding Cherry that makes her uneasy.
