hard Mary Alice had been taking everything. She didn’t feel her home was safe any longer; she’d lost her place of refuge.
Ben had thought of a lot of things when he’d gone back to his place hours ago to get the dog and the parts to get the suction pump going. He hadn’t known Mary Alice and Jim hadn’t been able to go back into their house, but he knew how people reacted to trauma, and he knew to change the environment. That’s what he himself had done, an insight that struck him only now, for the first time. He’d come to these mountains, isolated himself after living for years as part of a team, and set about making himself as self-sufficient, and self-contained, as possible. Mountain living was different. The effort required to become self-sufficient had been the means he’d used to distract himself, to get him to the point where he could . . . where he could begin healing.
He hadn’t thought of himself as wounded. He’d thought of himself as fed up. It wasn’t until he became able to tolerate more contact with people that he could begin to see where he’d been and how far he’d come.
Sela. She’d been the lure that had brought him out of the cave, the same way he was using the dog to bring the Livingstons out of their cave. The comparison amused him, though he didn’t know if he’d tell her that. Her gentleness was what he’d noticed first about her, and he’d wanted to protect that, keep it untarnished; telling her something that might embarrass her wasn’t the way to do that, though he suspected she might think it was funny. Maybe one day in the future he’d tell her.
“Whaddaya think?” the neighbor asked, jerking him out of his thoughts.
He had no idea what the guy had said, so he shrugged. “I think we need to get the generator out of the truck and fired up, get these folks some heat. They can’t live in a house this cold.”
“They’re welcome to stay with us, but they want their own space and at the same time Mary Alice has been afraid to come back. How you gonna work this?”
“The dog,” Ben replied, and went back outside with the dog following on his heels.
“Have you thought of a name yet?” he asked Mary Alice as they pulled the generator out of the back of the truck.
Of course the dog had dashed back over to her for more ear scratching and belly rubs, and it was rubbing against her legs in a frenzy of affection. She actually blushed. “I think Sajack,” she said. “I like— I used to like watching Wheel of Fortune.”
“Sajack’s a good name,” Ben said. “Listen. Do you think you could take care of him? I’m out away from the house a lot, and the boy needs more company than I can give him. With him in the house, no one else would be able to sneak in, and mountain curs are quiet and protective dogs.”
Her face lit up. Watching his wife, Jim seemed to catch on. “I’d like having a dog around,” he said slowly. “I’ve missed having one. But how will we feed him? We’re having trouble feeding ourselves.”
“I’ll hunt for you.” Ben made the offer with a sense of resignation, because he’d already known he’d have to do it. “I brought some food, his blanket and bowls, and the rope I use for his leash. His collar is pretty ratty, sorry.”
“I can make a collar for him from one of my old belts,” Jim said, beginning to smile himself as he looked at the dog. He squatted down and patted his thigh. “C’mon, Sajack, come let Pops pet on you.”
Obligingly the dog bounded toward the obvious invitation, and Mary Alice came with him.
While the old couple was bonding with the dog, Ben and the neighbor took the generator to the house and got the electric heat pump running. That done, Ben retrieved the food and the dog’s things—which included his old shoe—and took them in. Seeing the shoe, the dog raced after him into the house, wanting his toy. Jim followed, and, somewhat reluctantly, so did Mary Alice. Ben saw the alarmed look she cast toward the kitchen, then the dog pounced on the shoe and began shaking it from side to side and a smile wreathed her face as she watched him.
Making another trip to the truck, Ben brought in a kerosene heater and an