“Got something for you.” Wyatt stepped out of the room and returned a moment later with a lantern. After hooking it on a nail in the rafter, he bent over the crate and picked up a furry bundle.

“A kitten?” Astrid’s voice rose with excitement.

“Nope. Couldn’t find any kittens.” Wyatt approached the bed, petting the creature in his arms. “But I did find this little fella.”

He lowered the bundle into Astrid’s lap, and a black-and-white puppy stared up at her with innocent and curious black eyes, his tiny nose sniffing the air, as if trying to discover his whereabouts and who Astrid was.

“Oh my.” Astrid’s eyes widened.

“He’s adorable.” Greta stroked the puppy’s head and earned a lick.

Astrid followed Greta’s example, and the puppy licked her too. “I think he likes us.”

“I’m sure he’ll love you.” Wyatt reached down and scratched the dog’s back.

“I hope so.” Astrid did the same. “I know I’ll love him.”

Wyatt smiled, and his gaze flitted up to Greta’s as if he wanted to share the precious moment with her. Her heart swelled with a sense of contentment and joy she’d never known before.

“What’s his name?” Astrid asked.

“He ain’t got one yet.” Wyatt straightened and crossed his arms, which emphasized his muscles and the broadness of his chest.

“He needs to have a name.” Astrid grew braver and scratched at the puppy’s neck.

“Then you oughta pick one. A name fit for a mighty fine cow dog.”

“He’s a cow dog?”

“Yep. He’ll help us with herding and chasing cattle down and keeping ’em from wandering off.”

The puppy stood on wobbly legs, his ears perking and his snout lifting. Astrid touched the puppy’s nose and earned another lick. “Won’t he get hurt by the cattle?”

“Nope, he’ll be faster than greased lightning.”

“Good.”

The pup wagged his tail and watched Astrid expectantly, as though ready for her to give him a name, but he was more likely waiting for her to feed him.

For a few seconds she stroked the pup, and Greta’s heart ached at how thin and pale Astrid was getting. Though Greta tried to ply her sister with food, nothing appealed to the girl. Her appetite was gone, and she was losing weight at a frightening pace.

Greta had wanted so badly for the Colorado air to provide the cure for the consumption. But after the past months of mountain living and an only worsening condition, she finally had to accept that the climate wasn’t helping Astrid. The move had been useless.

“What if I call him Chase?” Astrid asked.

“Chase. Sounds about right.” Wyatt scratched the pup and was rewarded with a happy yip.

Astrid laughed. “I think he likes it.”