Page 111 of Carver’s Craving

“Yeah. I never get tired of standing here. I can’t wait for the snow.”

“You’re welcome to it. I’m tired of being cold. Can you show me to this spare room?”

He didn’t use air quotes because he still held his keyboard case—but I heard them.

“Of course.” I put my guitar case by the other two and pivoted to head to the bedroom.

“Did he buy those for you?” Baxter—quiet in a way that disconcerted me. Staring at the two strange guitars.

I cleared my throat. “He did. As a Christmas present. I’m sorry I don’t have anything for you.”

Baxter met my gaze with what I could only term as incredulity. His eyes were wide, and he shook his head. “You’re giving me a place to sleep. I can’t really think of a better gift.”

Carver closed the front door. “I’ve got two suitcases and two toiletry kits.”

“Mine are burgundy.” My way of being expedient.

“Right. I’ll put them in our room.” He raised an eyebrow that only I could see.

I nodded.

Baxter continued to grip his keyboard.

I said, “Let me show you your room. I still have a few things, but—”

Carver shook his head. “I moved them, Styx. While Walter and Poppin were eating breakfast. Everything’s in our room.”

I blinked repeatedly. He’d thought of everything. Truly thought of everything. “Thanks.”

“Of course. This way.” He gestured for Baxter to follow him.

Which he did.

After a moment of hesitation, I headed to the couch where Walter now sat. Poppin had followed Carver. Whether because she wanted to stick close to her person or whether she wanted to check out the new guy was open for debate.

Walter curled around me.

About five minutes later, Poppin hopped onto the couch. She gave me a look I couldn’t decipher before she plopped flat and leaned against me.

Carver soon joined me and sat on the recliner. He pointed to the gliding chair with the ottoman. “Not the most comfortable.”

“I can take it.”

“Depends if he wants to be surrounded by dogs. I can always put one in my lap and you can share the couch with Baxter and the other. Or Poppin can go to her bed in front of the fireplace.”

“It’s going to get colder, right?”

He nodded. “And snow starting tomorrow or tomorrow night sometime. Look, Baxter said he wanted to take a nap.”

I shrugged. “The nurse said the drugs are out of his system. Mostly, anyway. And the doctor wasn’t worried. Said he’d probably sleep a lot today. She suggested trying to keep him awake later. So he can get a good night’s rest.” I glanced behind me. “Privately, Quinton said there might be nightmares. PTSD. A ton of other shit. He didn’t say it to scare me—although it did. More to warn me. And to impress how important counseling is going to be.”

“If he agrees to it, I can make him an appointment at Healing Horses.”

“Quinton gave him a list. Baxter doesn’t have anything much right now. No phone or anything. Well, his keyboard and clothes, thanks to you. But, as you saw, he didn’t even have his keys. I tried to ask the cops when he might get them back, but they were cagey. The woman, Dorrie, was really sweet to me. The guy? Colton? Felt almost hostile. But Baxter said the guy was all empathy and kindness to him. For whatever that’s worth. They said they might have more questions.” Again, I looked over my shoulder.

“Door’s closed. Honestly, he was falling asleep on his feet. He shucked his shoes and was ready to drop right on the comforter. I suggested he undress and crawl into bed because jeans weren’t comfortable to sleep in. You notice how they were loose? Seems like he’d lost weight.”

I winced. “He’s not a big guy to start with.”