Part 4
Leah lowered herself to her knees before Ranger took his first step.
A few of the buyers moved their hands toward their belts. Cole stayed where he was. Leah held her palms open beside her thighs and waited.
Ranger approached without hurrying.
He stopped at her hands. His nose touched one palm, then the cuff of the jacket. He followed the sleeve upward in short, searching breaths, his whiskers brushing the denim.
Leah kept still, though she wanted so badly to reach for him that her arms ached.
He pushed his nose into the open front of the jacket.
His body trembled once, hard enough to move the loose leather strap beneath his jaw. He breathed out against her shirt, stepped closer, and pressed his head beneath her chin.
Leah caught him around the neck.
The force of him nearly sat her back on her heels. She adjusted her knees and held on, fingers disappearing into the thick fur she remembered. Beneath it she could feel how rigidly he had been carrying himself. Little by little, his body rested against hers.
She put her mouth close to his damaged ear.
“No more, Ranger. I’m taking you home.”
He made a rough, uneven sound against her shoulder.
Leah rested her cheek on his head. There were voices somewhere beyond them, a shoe scraping, a man quietly clearing his throat, but nobody told her to get up.
After a while, she brought one hand around to the back of Ranger’s skull.
Her fingers found the muzzle buckle.
“Hold on,” a handler said.
Cole raised a hand before the man could move closer.
Leah worked the stiff strap free. The buckle resisted, and she had to change her grip, using both hands while Ranger remained pressed against her. Then the leather loosened.
She drew the muzzle away and set it on the floor.
Ranger lifted his face.
His tongue caught her cheek, warm and clumsy. She gave a small broken laugh, and he licked her again, whining softly as she rubbed the uninjured base of his ear.
“There you are,” she whispered.
Dempsey turned toward his paperwork. One of the handlers took a long step back and let his shoulders drop.
Leah found the plain nylon leash she had brought in her jacket pocket. She had purchased it before she knew whether she would ever get to use it. The clip took two tries because her fingers were still unsteady.
Once it was fastened to his collar, she rose slowly.
Ranger stood with her.
She gathered the leash without pulling it taut.
“Beside me.”
He moved into position against her left leg, his shoulder close enough that she felt him through her jeans. She took one step. He matched it.
At the auction table, Dempsey gave her the folder containing the receipt and transfer documents. She tucked it beneath her arm, then looked for Cole.
He had stepped out of the way.
“Thank you,” she said.
He nodded once. For a moment his mouth tightened as though there might be more to say. Instead, he reached down and picked up the discarded muzzle, moving it clear of her feet.
Leah turned toward the exit.
The men nearest the aisle moved first. Chairs shifted, boots drew back, and a path opened through the buyers. The man with the prosthetic leg gave her a quiet nod. Another held his catalog against his chest and waited for them to pass.
Ranger stayed at her knee.
At the door, Leah paused to get the handle without dropping her folder. The guard who had tried to stop her came forward and opened it for her.
Cool air touched her wet face.
She stepped outside, and Ranger followed without looking back.
Cole watched until the door closed behind them. Then he slipped his checkbook into his coat and returned to the rear of the warehouse.
A page kept lifting in the breeze, and Leah held it down with her wrist while she searched her textbook for the term she had underlined.
The porch of her small Hampton apartment was barely wide enough for a chair, a pot of herbs, and a sleeping Malinois. She had arranged everything around the dog.
It had been a year since the auction. Finals were a week away, and she had promised herself she wouldn’t go inside until she finished the chapter.
Ranger complicated that plan by sleeping on her foot.
His coat shone where the afternoon light reached beneath the porch rail. Regular brushing had filled the little wastebasket by the door more times than Leah could count. The scar along his muzzle had softened, and the missing piece of his ear no longer made her breath catch whenever she looked at it.
His paws moved in his sleep.
Leah glanced down, watching one twitch against the floorboard. Gulls were calling somewhere beyond the buildings, and she smiled over the top of her book.
There had been a time when any movement in his sleep made her sit up and listen. She no longer had to. He slept through doors closing, through voices on the sidewalk, through the ordinary noises of neighbors coming home.
At night, he stayed beside her bed instead of wearing a path between the windows.
The breeze found the loose page again. Leah caught it, read the same paragraph for the third time, and reached down with her free hand.
Ranger opened one eye when her fingers touched his head. His tail brushed the porch once.
Then he settled his chin more comfortably across her foot and went back to sleep.