Part 4
Four days later, Loon Harbor dug itself out. Snowbanks narrowed Main Street to one lane, the harbor vanished beneath wind-packed ice, and the historical lighthouse stood against a clean blue sky as though the storm had never reached it. Inside the veterinary clinic, evidence remained everywhere.
Copper wore soft boots over his healing paws and objected to each one. His siblings had recovered enough to fight over a knotted towel. Sadie could stand with support, though she refused to put full weight on her injured shoulder.
No microchips were found. Ruth posted notices at the market and town hall. Claire filed the required report with county animal control and contacted the regional rescue network, but no owner called.
Wade arrived after the morning plow run carrying a faded plaid dog bed.
“My last dog’s,” he explained when Claire looked at it.
“Scout?” Ruth asked from the doorway.
Wade nodded. The bed had been folded in his garage since the old Labrador died the previous spring. Wade placed it beside Sadie’s recovery pen, adjusted one corner, and left before anyone could thank him.
Copper climbed onto it first. Sadie followed slowly, lowering herself with Claire’s help. The two smaller puppies filled the remaining space.
Eli watched them settle against one another. “I can take all four.”
Claire stopped writing on Sadie’s chart. “To the lighthouse?”
“There’s room.”
“There are forty-two exterior steps, no fenced yard, and ice on the access road three mornings out of five. Sadie needs restricted activity and rechecks.”
“I’ll drive her.”
Claire looked at him.
“One dog, then,” Eli said.
“When one is ready, we’ll talk.”
Wade returned before noon with a more workable offer. His heated workshop had a fenced service yard and no stairs. Once the county hold ended, he could foster Sadie and the two weaker pups through her recovery.
“What about Copper?” Eli asked.
Wade looked at the red puppy, who was trying to remove one of his boots with his teeth. “He can stay with them until Claire clears him. After that, he needs somebody who doesn’t mind being supervised by a bread thief.”
Eli ignored the implication. That afternoon, Claire received a call from Duluth. She stepped into the supply room, but the door did not close completely.
Eli heard only part of the conversation.
“Yes, I understand the deadline.”
After a pause, she said, “No. Loon Harbor’s fine. This isn’t about the clinic.”
Another silence followed. Claire looked through the opening and saw him. Her expression closed before she turned away.
“I’ll give you my answer tomorrow,” she said into the phone.
When she emerged, Eli was fastening Copper’s boot again.
“What happens tomorrow?” he asked.
“Nothing you need to handle.”
He recognized the wording because it belonged to him. “Job offer?”
Claire nodded.
“In Duluth?”
“Yes.”
“When would you start?”
“The first Monday in April.”
The winter caretaker’s contract on Eli’s kitchen table ended at the close of March. The historical society had already sent a renewal for another year.
“Do you want the job?” he asked.
Claire took too long to answer. “Yes.”
“Then don’t turn it down for me.”
“And when the furnace quits at the lighthouse?”
“I reset it.”
“Last time you didn’t answer, I found you in the generator shed.”
“I was working.”
“I drove through freezing rain because nobody knew that.”
“Wade has a key.”
“Wade has a plow route. The furnace quits, you don’t answer, and I’m the one driving out there. Every time.”
Eli stood. “I never asked you to stay here.”
Claire’s face changed, not dramatically. Only the muscles around her mouth seemed to tire.
“I know,” she said.
That evening, Eli returned to the lighthouse alone. The renewal contract lay where he had left it beneath Maggie’s old stoneware bread plate. He moved the plate, read the first page, and signed his name on the line marked WINTER CARETAKER. He stared at the signature until the ink dried. Then he tore the page in half…
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