agree more. The isolated area allows her to run off leash, wreaking havoc on any wildlife who dare cross into her territory.
A bush shakes beside us, and Patch is immediately on the prowl. She takes off at a dead run, lacking her usual stealth. Her stark white fur is a streak of lightning across the shadows. It’s clear she’s tired of being outsmarted by the smaller and faster critters. Squirrels and rabbits have been dodging her efforts thus far. If she’s lucky, there’s a turkey playing possum, and this will be her massive payday.
I don’t bother following her erratic movements. Patch will either return with a reward, or get bored and prepare to try again. I allow the quiet to wash over me, a rare calm cooling the thunder in my pulse. Nature gives me a peace I can find nowhere else. How my father and brother could prefer city living is beyond any conceivable thought. Lofty pines and aspens claim this land, their presence more stable than any person who has crossed this path. Flowers and blooms of all colors dot the ground. The bright bouquets decorate the already stunning backdrop. This space can turn the hardest man into a damn poet. I release a loud snort at the thought. Birds flap in the distance, disturbed by my intrusion. The punch of sound is too intense for this scenic serenity.
We’re nearing a break in the trees on our way to the creek when I hear faint notes of muffled sobbing. The cry is quiet, as if the person is trying to mute their sorrow. Patch abandons her current hunt and dashes toward the warbling noise. She resembles a destructive moose crashing through the barrier of brush in search of a fresh discovery. Whoever is lingering on the other side gets a decent warning from her. That doesn’t stop me from being hot on her heels, my boots pounding into the earth with a stretching stride. The fate of whoever waits beyond the forest wall pushes me faster.
When I enter the open area, Patch is sitting on her haunches and looking toward an aspen several yards away, where a small, feminine form is huddling at the base of the tree. Either the girl didn’t hear Patch barrel into the clearing, or she chose to remain curled in on herself for protection. Another barely audible sob shakes a pair of bony shoulders. Stick-thin arms are tightly wound around knobby knees, hiding her identity.
“Hey, there.” I announce my presence in the most soothing voice possible. Offering sympathy and comfort isn’t typically on my roster, but kids are kids.
A pair of blonde braids swing outward when the little girl snaps upright to face me. Bottomless green eyes freeze me on the spot—the exact shade that’s been haunting my thoughts for weeks. And the similarities don’t end there. This child is a spitting image of her mother. Damn, that woman is fucking with me even now. But her miniature replica is who I need to focus on at this moment.
There’s no doubt she’s frightened. But how do I approach this kid without causing more terror? If only I had a clue about what might calm her fears. At the very least, it probably helps that I’m not a total stranger to her. If she remembers me. I force myself to release the strain brewing inside of me, blowing out a long stream of pressure while I debate my options.
Patch takes the initiative, jogging up to the girl and licking her face. I sputter out a harsh exhale at my dog’s uncharacteristic behavior. All I can do is gawk as Patch continues lavishing her with slobbery kisses. The kid giggles and reaches out to hug my dog, her fright temporarily forgotten. My breathing stalls, heart racing too fast, while waiting for Patch to react. The oversized malamute just doubles her efforts on giving the girl a mood boost and a good cleaning.
And what am I doing? Staring like a weirdo. I scratch at my jaw while taking a moment to process. How do I handle this rescue mission? It’s a lot more complicated than fixing a flat tire. One thing is certain, though—standing at the perimeter isn’t going to solve anything. She needs help, more than Patch can offer.
I have to try communicating again, but my words are a jumble. What’s her name again? Rather than dig myself into a hole, I search for a way out. “Hey, do you remember me?”
Her gaze flicks to