His front door slammed behind him. He crossed the compound, his tracks the only ones to be seen in the fresh snowfall. He sniffed the air, which was rich with the scent of balsam. He ran then until he could no longer make his legs work. When he collapsed on a fallen log, he wanted to die. His respiration was ragged, tortured as he struggled to breathe. He turned when he heard a noise, and found himself staring into a pair of yellow eyes. “Hi, there, big guy. I’m not mad. I’m jealous. Jesus, do you understand what I’m saying, Alpha?” The dog whined as he approached. Pappy reached out to stroke his big head. “How did you know I was out here? Never mind, it’s enough that you’re here.” He talked then, for a long time, the wolf-dog standing quietly but listening intently. He made no sound as Pappy bared his soul.

The run back was as tortuous as the outward leg. By the time he returned to the compound, his headache was almost gone. Maybe his stomach would tolerate some toast and tea.

Man and dog entered the kitchen off the dining hall. Pappy got the bread and popped it into the toaster. While it toasted, he made himself a cup of tea, careful to stay out of his father’s way. On the gas range he could see a huge pot bubbling. His father must be making soup. Gallons of soup. Maybe as much as twenty gallons of soup. It smelled good, and it wasn’t upsetting his stomach.

“I’m not making this soup for you, Kollar. One of the recruits is sick.”

“Oh.”

“It happens when you wade through snow in nylons. How many times have I told you that if you get your feet cold and wet, you get sick. That’s why your mother and I always insisted you wear your galoshes in bad weather. Well, how many times?”

Pappy stared at his father, wondering where this new information was going. “A hundred at least.” He bit down on the buttered toast. It tasted good. “Who’s sick? Who would be dumb enough to walk through snow without shoes or boots?”

Kyros turned so he was facing the stove and the huge soup pot. He dumped in a bowl of chopped carrots. “Samantha Rainford. When she left last night, she ran out in those silly shoes women wear to parties. She left her boots behind.”

Pappy stopped chewing; the toast in his mouth suddenly tasted like sawdust. “Just how sick is she?”

“I don’t know. Zoe came to the kitchen and asked if I’d make some chicken soup. All she said was Sam had a fever and chills. A cold is a cold. You weather it; isn’t that what you always say to the recruits when they come down with a winter cold, Kollar?”