And headed back up the mountain, with plenty of daylight left.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Captan came to meet me at the steepest part of the path.

“How is she?” I asked as I climbed toward him.

He blinked an answer.

He came forward to sniff my boots. It was the first time he’d come so close to me.

When he looked up again, I read a bunch of questions in his eyes.

“Yes, that’s puppy you smell. That’s Quiet. When he’s old enough, I’ll bring him to meet you.”

But then I remembered once again that Quiet was meant for Mr. Anderson.

“Maybe I’ll bring him up here to live.”

When I reached my hand out, palm up, Captan rested his soft jowl in it for just a moment and then turned to lead the way to Cate’s cabin.

And I stood there on the path, ringing hard and loud with the feel of his face lingering on my hand, along with something more about loneliness and a sore heart and what a cabin feels like when the snow drifts so high around it that daylight is as thin and pale as whey. And the only sound is the wind sheering across the mountaintop. And the days are long and cold and hungry.

“You are a wonderful dog,” I said to him when he turned to look back at me. “You are a wonderful young man of a dog.”

Which seemed to please him, though he didn’t smile.

—

When we got to the cabin, I paused at the open door.

Larkin was there, standing by her bed.

Cate had said she wouldn’t need me if he was there to look after her, but I hoped there was still some work for me as well.

“Oh Captan, my Captan,” Cate said when she saw us there. “What have you brought me now?”

I stepped inside.

Larkin turned.

And as my eyes adjusted to the light, I saw that he was hurt.

His left eye was swollen shut, the skin around it a mottled black and blue.

“What happened?” I said, walking close to peer at his eye. The lid above bulged out, balloon-like, and the skin below swelled to meet it, his lashes in between like little black teeth in a fat red mouth.

“He got a black eye for coming up to see me,” Cate said. Her voice was dark and bitter but stronger than it had been, and there was some good color in her face.

I reached toward his eye, but he stepped away. “I’m fine,” he said. “And she’s getting better.”

And I learned all over again, watching him, that it’s possible to smile and look sad at the same time.

“I am,” Cate said. “Not well, but better.”

Larkin pulled the blanket down off her leg and untied the bandage so I could see for myself.