Part 6
“I’m trying to stop the truck being dispatched,” Reed said. “The placement was made from an old contact list. The person who made it hadn’t seen the evidence from the station.”
Evelyn reached for her phone. She asked for the supervisor’s number, then went through the family’s condition without raising her voice. Jack listened to the spaces between her sentences and could tell when the person on the other end was interrupting.
“I understand there’s limited space,” she said. “I’m asking you to put a hold on that destination while another one is checked.”
Reed stood beside her with the incident number written on a scrap of paper. Mae cleared a dry patch on the table for his notes. Jack went to the stove, because it was the one part of the room where he knew exactly what needed doing.
The lights flickered as he opened the wood box. They returned for a few seconds, went dim, and failed altogether. In the kitchen, the electric heater clicked once and stopped.
Evelyn ended the call. Jack found the lamp by touch while Mae opened the stove door enough to give him light. Ash was on her feet, restless over the pups, and Evelyn asked everyone to pause until she settled.
The smallest pup made a thin, irregular sound. Jack stopped halfway across the room with the lamp in his hand. Evelyn bent close without taking him from his mother, watched him, and told Jack where to put the light.
“The power may be back soon,” he said.
“It may.” Evelyn looked toward the window, where the curtain stirred despite the frame being shut. “But this corner’s losing heat already.”
The cottage had been built for summer keepers and altered whenever somebody found money. Jack had sealed what he could, but wind came through places he could not reach without stripping the walls. With the electric heater dead, the stove kept the center of the room warm while the floor along the outer wall grew colder.
He moved a folded blanket against the worst draft. Evelyn watched the pup through another uneven breath, then checked the space nearer the stove. Too much direct heat there, and no room to work without crowding the mother.
“We need somewhere steadier,” she said. “I can keep them supported while we move. I’d rather do it before she’s exhausted again.”
Mae had her hand in her coat pocket. She took out the chapel key and laid it on the table where the lamp reached it.
“Nathan put the stove on the inside wall,” she said. “And the generator’s still in the shed. Paul was there an hour ago.”
Jack looked at the key. Mae had refused him entry to that building once when he came to fix a leaking gutter. He remembered standing on the step with his tool bag, pretending he had stopped at the wrong door.
“I’ll call him,” she said.
Evelyn asked about the size of the room and whether they could keep people away from the animals. Reed checked the short road down from the point, then relayed the proposed move to the duty officer while Mae spoke to Father Paul. Nobody called the chapel a solution yet. First it had to be opened, heated, and made ready.
Jack brought a deep wooden carrying box from the pantry. Evelyn inspected it, had him smooth a rough edge, and lined it with clean bedding. They arranged the supports she wanted around the outside of the nest, leaving space for the four pups together.
Ash stood over them, watching every movement. When Jack shifted the box closer, her muzzle wrinkled and he stopped. He set it down, lowered himself onto one knee, and put his empty hand against the floor.
He did not reach for her. The wolf smelled the box, went back to her litter, and lifted the smallest pup. She placed him inside, then stood looking into it.
Evelyn let out a long breath through her nose. She helped settle the other three while Jack stayed where Ash could see him. The mother checked each pup, sniffing at the bedding and the sides of the box.
Reed brought his vehicle close to the steps and kept the passenger compartment warm. Jack carried the box with Evelyn walking beside him. Ash followed to the door, stopped at the running engine, and would come no closer.
“Don’t force her,” Evelyn said.
They waited. The wolf circled behind the vehicle, then returned to the side where Jack sat with the box secure across his lap. He lowered the window a little, and she lifted her nose toward the opening.
Reed drove at walking speed, stopping whenever they lost sight of her. The road to the chapel was less than half a mile; Jack had never known it to take so long. Ash moved beside them, disappeared into the snow beyond the headlights, then reappeared ahead. Evelyn watched her through the side glass and kept checking the pups.
Lights showed at the chapel entrance. A man Jack knew from the dock was clearing the steps, and two neighbors were carrying split wood from a sled. Mae had walked ahead while they prepared the carrying box; she stood inside the door, waving the waiting people back.
“Give them room. You can leave that here.”
Father Paul was crouched near the generator shed, his coat pulled over his clerical shirt. He said something to a cable that Jack could not hear, then tried the engine again. It coughed, ran roughly, and settled into a steady note.
Jack carried the box into the chapel. The stove had begun to warm the inner wall, and the room smelled of dry dust and old wax. Evelyn chose a sheltered space beyond the last pew, with a clear route to the side door and enough distance for Ash to lie with her pups.
The wolf came in after them. She paused beneath the small windows, ears laid back at the unfamiliar people, and Mae sent the last volunteer into the vestibule. Jack remained beside the box until Evelyn had moved the litter onto the prepared bedding.
Ash lay down around them. The smallest nosed blindly along her belly, stopped, then began again with a little more purpose. Evelyn watched until he latched on.
“There,” she said quietly.
Mae laid a clean cloth within Evelyn’s reach and sat on the nearest bench. The stove gave a soft settling crack from inside its iron body. Jack recognized the sound from years when Nathan had still been alive to complain about people feeding it wet wood.
Reed returned from the porch with his phone in his hand. He looked toward the resting wolf before he spoke.
“The move here is cleared for tonight. They still haven’t changed tomorrow’s destination.”
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