“Oh, yes.” There was no doubt in Ford’s mind about that. A more commanding, regal woman he had yet to meet. And expensive. Even though he wasn’t paying for the puppy or the training, thanks to Lila’s generosity and a grant from the Auditory Guild, he’d looked up Puppy Promise’s usual rates. If he worked very hard and donated an internal organ or two, he might have been able to save up enough by the time Emily was ready for college. “We were lucky to get her. But most of the early training has to take place at home, so Emily will be out of school until after the holidays. That’s why we weren’t at drop-off this morning.”

Emily had tired of their company by this time, so she wandered off across the yard with her puppy in her arms, pointing out to him the various items worthy of note. As these included such fascinating subjects as the mailbox—don’t pee on that—the birdhouse—don’t pee on that—and her tire swing—definitely don’t pee on that—Ford let her make the grand tour without him.

He’d hoped that the explanation would signal the end of the conversation, but Helen placed her hand on his arm and adopted a low, confidential tone. “Won’t it be tough for you, having her home all day?” she asked. The question was a lot like her—kindly meant, but far too intrusive for Ford’s peace of mind. “What about your work? Your free time? Your social life?”

Ford kept his mouth clamped shut, even though he could have enlightened Helen about any of those subjects. His work as an instruction manual illustrator, done mostly hunched over his drafting desk in the kitchen, would have to be fit in around puppy training sessions. His free time had been a long-running and not very funny joke for years. And as for a social life, well, you could hardly miss something you didn’t have.

But none of those mattered. “Any time I get to spend with Emily is time well spent,” he said in a sharp voice he barely recognized.

The effect of his words was both immediate and regrettable. Helen flushed, her already-pink cheeks swelling with red, a hurt expression pulling at the corners of her mouth.

“I’m sorry,” he said, instantly contrite. “That came out wrong. I only meant that it’s taken care of. I worked out a full schedule ahead of time.”

Helen accepted his apology with good grace, but the damage was already done. “I was only trying to help,” she said in a small, downcast voice.

“I know. And I appreciate it.”

“I worry about you two, that’s all.”

“We’d be lost without you,” he agreed. “Dropped in the middle of nowhere without a map.”

“If we can’t count on each other, who do we have?”