Blake narrows her eyes. “Quit doing that.”
“Then use your words, Butterfly,” I quip.
Blake crosses the floor, placing herself on the opposite side of the desk. She plants her hands on the surface, leaning towards me as she quirks a brow. “Is he?”
“Yes,” I answer with a small smile. “Very. No need to defend my honor or anything.”
“Good,” she says, like if my answer were different, then Walker would be in for a world of hurt. Blake pushes off the desk, standing straight. “Well, I’m here.”
“With your shadow.” I tilt my head to Bear.
Blake raises her shoulders as she holds her hands out palms-up in an innocent gesture. “I can’t leave Bear at Moose Gap Lodge,” she defends.
Unable to suppress a chuckle, I shake my head. “I could use some help walking the animals in the back and feeding them.”
Blake’s lips curve into a comical frown. “Where’s Abbott?”
“On a farm call,” I inform her.
“Without you?” Blake asks as her face scrunches up.
“It’s a simple checkup.” I clarify.
Blake lets out a measured hum, accepting my explanation. “Well then, let’s get to it.”
Heading for the back, Blake strolls right past me, knowing I'll follow right behind her, which I do.
When we get to the kennels, I give her a brief tour, instructing her on how to complete each task. She jumps right in, zero hesitation, and once again, I follow suit.
Caring for animals has always been easy for me—it comes naturally to me. Animals are honest. They don't pretend to be something they're not. They don't hide when they're hurt. They don't lie about being afraid. Most people could learn a thing or two from them.
I'm lost in the work when a shout comes from the other side of the room. “Levi!”
Sprinting to Blake, I find her staring through a gate with haunted eyes. She doesn't look my direction as I approach, so I keep my movements slow, placing my hand on her shoulder. “What’s wrong?”
Lifting a shaky hand, she points inside the kennel. “The dog. She’s bleeding.”
I allow her hand to guide my gaze, and I find the German Shepherd I found on the side of the road the other day. She was cold and starving, something I come across often this time of year.
After the holidays, I come across more pets left to fend for themselves. Adults buy a pet for themselves or their children, then quickly realize they weren’t prepared for the responsibility and ditch the animal.
The concept of abandoned animals is nothing new for me, but it still causes a cold fire to settle in my chest.
“Dammit,” I curse, then open the gate, slipping inside, not allowing Blake to follow. The dog scurries into the corner, trying to get as far away from me as possible. I take a seat in the middle of the kennel, giving her space but letting her know that I’m here when she needs me. “She gets nervous and chews on her legs.”
“Animals do that?” Blake asks from behind me.
“When they’re scared or anxious, they can.” I keep my tone calm and composed. Raging over what someone did to this dog won’t change anything. It’ll just make her more afraid of me.
Blake continues her questioning. “How do you help something like that?”
Peering over my shoulder, I answer, “You make them feel loved.”
“You seem to be good at that.” Sadness mixed with awe swells in her eyes.
Breaking eye contact, I turn back around. “It’s easy when the one time you fail, the consequences were irreparable.”
“What do you mean?”
