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Gunner’s head bobbed up and down like he was following Jackson’s train of thought.
Standing precariously on an old, squeaky chair with a roll of tape in one hand, he glanced down at Gunner, eyeing the mason jar with sheer fascination.
“You’d think it was a game, huh?” he asked the dog while pressing a strip of duct tape against the leak. Gunner’s tongue lolled out in a canine grin. Every escaped drop was met with an eager leap and a snap of Gunner’s jaws as if he was on a mission to help catch the falling water before it hit the jar.
His laughter filled the room, bouncing off the walls. “You’re a real comedian, you know that?” he told Gunner, bending down to ruffle the dog’s wet fur. Believing he’d staunched the flow, he jumped off the chair and landed with a thud. “So much for keeping things quiet.”
He tossed the tape on the chair, but it bounced off, hitting the jar and sending a splash of water across the wooden floor.
“Ah, great,” he sighed.
Gunner chased the stream, prancing around in delight at the unexpected playtime.
“Of course, you’d find this fun,” Jackson said, his frown softening into a smile. He got on his knees, the cold seeping through his jeans as he mopped up the water with a towel. Gunner was beside him in an instant, tail wagging.
He found himself unable to resist the infectious joy of the moment, despite the leaking roof, the damp floor, and his playful dog. He looked around the room, touched by the golden morning light, the memory of Amanda lingering sweetly, and Gunner by his side. This was his life—messy, imperfect, beautiful. The leaky roof was part of the charm.
“And so, the day begins, Gunner,” Jackson said, patting his dog’s wet head. “Now, how about a short walk before we see Amanda?” Gunner’s enthusiastic bark was all the answer he needed. The morning may have started roughly, but there was a whole day filled with possibilities ahead of them.
Gunner shot out when he opened his bedroom door, racing to the front door where he scratched and whined. His need to explore the great outdoors remained constant.
Jackson pulled his jacket from the hook and shrugged it on before opening the door. The morning sun crept over the horizon. Jackson stood at the edge of the porch, his breath fogging up in the brisk morning air. A silver sheen clung to the world, a delicate frost that shimmered under the early sunbeams. Yet, as lovely as the morning was, Jackson couldn’t ignore the underlying issue of the day.
He sighed, glancing back at the cabin. With the weather warming, that leak would only get worse. As Jackson looked up, remnants of snow slid off the shingles while icicles melted or fell to the ground.
His dog sat beside him, waiting for permission to leave. Jackson bent down to clip the leash onto Gunner’s collar. “Let’s get you taken care of first.” He’d been assigned Gunner in the army. They’d been partners for years, and when he didn’t re-up his enlistment, neither did Gunner. Most dogs had a single handler and weren’t good at taking orders from others. He trusted no one on earth more than his dog, but he was hoping to change that.
Their morning walk was a routine. With the brisk air of dawn nipping at their faces, they ventured to the edge of the nearby woods. A faint mist clung to the ground, caught between night and day, and in the distance, he could hear the murmur of a river or possibly runoff from the melting snow.
Gunner was in his element, nosing about in the snow. It was like he was back in the desert, scouting.
“Not a bad way to start the day, huh?” he mused aloud, his voice disappearing into the vast wilderness.
After a few minutes, once Gunner had finished his business, they began their walk back, the leak awaiting him back at the cabin.
Upon returning, he checked the leak and found it had been generous with its gift in his absence. It was no longer a drip but a steady stream, so he grabbed a large pot and pulled out his phone. He needed reinforcements and quick, so he dialed Bowie.
“Do you know what time it is?” Bowie asked.
Jackson laughed. “It’s burning daylight time.” Their First Sergeant said that when there was work to be done.
“What’s the problem?”
He knew Bowie would understand. “Big leak, and it’s getting worse by the minute.”
“Leave it to you to have a leak in the middle of winter,” Bowie laughed.
“I need help with this one.” He hated to ask for assistance, but this was a big job, and the faster it got fixed, the dryer he’d stay.
“I’ll round the troops. Be there soon.”
As Jackson hung up the phone, Amanda appeared from her room wrapped in a soft robe, her hair a mess of curls from sleep. The vision had him holding his breath. He was captivated by her, and all he wanted to do was close the distance and wrap his arms around her, but Cannon’s voice echoed in his memory, reminding him to take things slow.
“Did you say leak?” She combed her hand through her hair, brushing it away from her face.
“Yes, the roof is leaking in my bedroom.”
She groaned. “I’m sorry. You seem to have gotten the worst deal. First the broken window and now the ceiling.” She turned and walked down the hallway toward the kitchen. “I need coffee before I can process.”
