His ears went back, looking nearly affronted.
“Guess not.” I patted his head. “Dutch will be fine without us.”
He leaned against my thigh and whined.
“I know, but he’s a jerk.”
Another keening whine was his reply as he went to the door and sat in front of it.
“No, we’re not going back over there.”
He swished his tail.
“I don’t care how cute you are. He’s off limits.”
The dog sighed and lowered himself to the rug in front of the door and put his head down on his paws. I patted his head. “I’m going to chop some vegetables for soup, then take a shower.”
The ridiculously deep sigh made me laugh.
“We’ll survive. I promise.”
I wasn’t sure who I was trying to convince.
EIGHT
Dutch
A scrapingat my door woke me from my snooze on the couch. Ten hours of sleep hadn’t been enough, evidently. I frowned at the dark house. The embers of a fire were the only light in my living room.
I rolled onto my side, wincing at the throb of my ankle. It was miles better than the day before, but I’d still been hobbling around.
Another scratching sound made me sit up.
Just how out in the middle of nowhere was this cottage? Did New York have bears? I patted my leg, but realized my phone was still in my dresser drawer. It had been a long time since I’d instantly wanted to look up an answer to a question.
Hell, a long time since I’d cared enough to have a question.
Annoyed, I laid back down and crossed my arms. I stared at the ceiling, the shadows and moonlight from the window stretching across the shiplap in a dizzying pattern.
Another thump then the tick of nails on the porch had me looking at my front door. Coyote looking for some shelter or food?
Wolves?
Opossum?
I rolled over and faced the back of my couch. Probably that damn dog.
“Not my problem,” I muttered.
But the pacing continued.
“Dammit.” I flipped the blanket off my legs and struggled to my feet, hissing at the dull pain. I padded to the door and looked through the peephole. Sure enough, the dog was pacing across the porch. He walked up to the door and tapped it with his paw, then sat waiting.
Why the hell was he back?
Hadn’t Phoebe taken him with her?
I opened the door, but blocked the threshold when he tried to slip inside. “This isn’t your home.”
