“I’m happy one of us was able to enjoy them,” she cooed, catching the dog’s head between her arms and nuzzling him with her cheek.

“Don’t,” Val said sharply, and the lady stilled. “He doesn’t like to be petted.”

Horace had lived as solitary a life as Val these years and was as unaccustomed to the human touch as Val himself.

Myrtle frowned. “He seems to like it just fine.”

And then wholly disregarding his warning, she placed her cheek against Horace’s.

Horace, who stuck his giant pink tongue out and lapped her cheek, making an absolute liar of Val.

“Oh, yes, he seems quite the terrifying beast, he does,” the lady said with laughter ringing in her bell-like tones. “Isn’t that right?” she cooed once more at his pup. “You’re the biggest, most terrifying beast.”

Horace panted excitedly, licking Myrtle on her opposite cheek.

Val tightened his mouth. “Will you stop that?” he snapped, not really certain whether he spoke to the spirited sprite or the faithless dog.

Neither paid him any heed.

The two appeared quite content with one another’s company.

Through their warm exchange, Val stood there, folding his arms at his chest and tapping his right foot impatiently, willing his blasted dog to take note.

He could have drilled a damned hole in the universe with that drumming and still not have interrupted the happy exchange.

Bright color filled the lady’s cheeks, and her eyes glimmered and sparkled with the brightest light . . . and he froze, his boot grinding to a slow halt.

Surrounded by darkness, his life one of agony and sorrow, he’d forgotten what it was to see joy in real life. It had been so long since he’d experienced anything beyond misery that he’d come to believe the happiness he’d once felt, witnessed, and shared had been the stuff of dreams.

Only to find himself confronted with those sentiments in this young woman, a stranger, one who was untouched by life’s cruelty, and as such, one who was capable of that wide, sincere smile that wreathed her cheeks in the joy that came from within.

At last, Myrtle seemed to note his attention. She paused and looked up.

“I think we’ve displeased your master, sir,” she murmured to Horace.

The dog merely panted all the more.

She patted his head but otherwise made no move to stand. “What is his name?”

When presented with signs of annoyance, his staff ran in the opposite direction.

In fairness, they went out of their way to avoid him in general.

All his friends and family largely stayed clear of him, opting to give him the solitude he craved.

This woman should prove the one person who didn’t.

He didn’t know what to do with her or make of her.

“Horace,” he said gruffly.