Andrew had no desire, knowing that it was definitely a deer they’d heard. For it to make a sound like that, something had either spooked it or hurt it.

He didn’t pay much attention until she opened a file for an owl.

They looked at one another.

“Okay,” Andrew said, “it could have been an owl too.”

Tapping the screen, Kate verified that there were a dozen species of owl in Maine.

“Or maybe a deer battling an owl,” she said.

He took the tablet from her, turned it off, and set it on the end table.

“You need to get some sleep. You look terrible,” he said.

She nodded. “I am so tired. You should too.”

“You know me. Maybe I’ll take a nap later. Once I’m up, I’m up.”

He tucked the sheets around her.

“We are a pair of world-class chickenshits,” he said, kissing her.

“I’m sorry I woke you up.”

“Don’t be. I’d hate to think that I would sleep through all of that and leave you alone and wigged out all night, even if it was just over a deer or owl.”

“Or both!”

“Right. Or both.” He gave her her morning medication and she was asleep before he had the dishes washed.

Lucky, he thought.

Now that their ridiculous fears had been assuaged, he had to go for a run just to prove to himself that he had some bit of testosterone left. Buttons followed him into the bedroom as he got changed.

“You want to come, old man?” he said.

He made an executive decision not to bother with the vet. From everything he could see, Buttons could hear just fine. Just why the beagle hadn’t reacted to the deer/owl was a mystery, but not one that Andrew would lose any sleep over.

Maybe he could dial things down a bit today. The old anger was nowhere to be found. There was nothing to pound into submission. He was too damn tired to be upset.

His run was actually an amble, Buttons not sniffing around so much but going at his own leisurely pace. The air smelled extra sweet this morning.

“God’s bakery,” Andrew said.

They trudged through the litter of leaves and needles, the lake peeking between the trees. He saw the elderly kayakers out for their morning exercise.

Buttons barked, tugging on the leash. Andrew’s shoulder snapped, and he had to hurry to keep up.

The dog dove under a pile of brambles, front paws scratching at the dirt. When his furry head emerged, he had a squirrel in his mouth.

Andrew cringed. “Put that thing down, Buttons.”

He opened his mouth, the top half of the squirrel thumping on the ground. Its gray coat was splattered with what looked like fresh blood.

“Where’s the other half?”