He wrapped both sandwiches up in the paper towels and left the bunkhouse, only to almost trip over Wyatt’s dog, Domino, who was curled up on the porch. Kennedy stepped fancy to keep from falling or hurting the canine, who complicated the situation by leaping to his feet. When Kennedy reached down to pat the border collie mix, the animal caught a whiff of the peanut butter and emitted a mournful whine.

“Okay, okay,” Kennedy said. “Four Toes will never know he missed out on a second sandwich.”

Domino wolfed down his PB&J in two bites, then sat and looked up at Kennedy expectantly.

“You can’t have both of them, Domino. You’ll get fat. Besides, Four Toes wants one, too. His mouth is probably already watering. Bears can smell goodies from as far as a mile away.”

As Kennedy descended the steps, Domino fell in beside him. “Okay, you can come,” he conceded. “But you don’t get to share. You had yours.”

When Kennedy and the dog reached the hurricane fence enclosure where the bear was confined at night, Four Toes was nowhere in sight. Kennedy unlatched the gate, and Domino followed him inside. They found the bear curled up and asleep inside his cave, which had cost Slade a small fortune to have built. Even in the darkness, the animal’s gold fur was visible. Kennedy waved the sandwich back and forth to awaken his furry friend. Four Toes let out a rumble and rolled to his feet when he smelled the peanut butter. Laughing, Kennedy handed the bear the treat, and Four Toes sat back on his haunches to enjoy it.

“See you in the morning, Four Toes,” Kennedy called as he led Domino out of the enclosure and refastened the gate. “I’ll bring you some ketchup tomorrow night.” On the way to his pickup, Kennedy texted his brother. Craving a cheeseburger. Taking Domino with me to town.

Wyatt always carried his cell phone in his pocket so he’d feel the vibration when he received a message. He texted back: OK, bro. Thnx 4 letting me know.

Kennedy loved his new truck. Well, it was new to him, anyway. He’d bought it secondhand, but it served him well for driving back and forth to school and came in handy on the ranch when he needed to haul something. As he drew up to open the driver door, he gave it a fond pat.

Driving at night always soothed him, especially in spring, when the evening air felt almost balmy after a long, hard winter and he could roll down the windows. Domino shared his enjoyment of the fresh air by hooking his paws over the sill and poking out his head. The wind caught the dog’s fluffy ears and flattened them against his skull, which made Kennedy grin.

A few minutes later Kennedy arrived at the Mystical Burger Shack, and the place was lighted up like a Christmas tree. Periwinkle Lane was still mostly undeveloped, so it was as dark as the other country roads around town. The sudden radiance as Kennedy came around the bend was startling. The last time he had driven by, the burger place had been little, basically a square building with the interior partitioned off in three sections for storage, a commercial kitchen, and a dining area. But now, with the long overhang built perpendicular to the main structure, it looked almost as big as a football field. Servers on roller skates rolled in and out of the building by a side door, carrying trays of food that hooked over the partially lowered windows of vehicles. There were so many cars that Kennedy decided half the population of Mystic Creek must have been craving a hamburger, too. He was amazed that there was so much business this late at night.