Part 2
The refrigerator stopped humming. In the sudden quiet, Daniel could hear every uneven breath from the rug.
He brought the flashlight from his coat and checked the supplies Evelyn had left. Food, cloths, antiseptic. Nothing that could treat whatever was happening inside Tess’s chest.
His own first-aid box held dressings, tape, and the small tools he trusted for injuries. He put the lid back on without taking anything out.
Tess shivered. He laid a hand against her side and felt her breathing catch.
For a moment, his fingers were inside a wrecked car again. Claire’s breath had sounded almost ordinary until it hadn’t. He remembered waiting for the next one.
Daniel rose so abruptly that the flashlight rolled across the table.
“No. We’re moving.”
He meant himself. Tess couldn’t have stood if he’d asked her.
He added wood to the fire, warmed a dry towel, and settled the puppies close against her belly. Then he pulled on his parka and boots, found his gloves, and checked the latch before opening the door.
“I’m getting help,” he told her. “You hold your place.”
Evelyn’s house was less than half a mile away, on a rise where she could see the bend and part of his clearing. In fair weather, he could walk there without thinking. Tonight, he had to find the route step by step.
The snow was wet and heavy beneath the top crust. It caught at his shins and filled the tracks almost as soon as he made them. He kept the flashlight low, using fence posts and the dark shapes of familiar trees to hold his direction.
He’d crossed rough country with men depending on him before. There had been maps then, radio checks, somebody watching the time. Now he had a sick dog on a rug and two puppies who hadn’t yet learned which noises meant safety.
By the time he reached Evelyn’s porch, his collar was full of snow.
She opened the door while he was still knocking.
“What happened?”
“Tess has a fever. She’s struggling to breathe. The electricity’s gone.” He pushed his hood back. “Do you have anything for a dog? Anything at all?”
“Come away from the door.”
Her kitchen was warm from the woodstove. A dish towel hung over the oven handle, and a row of photographs stood along the dresser. Daniel’s eyes caught on Nathan in uniform, grinning beside a large shepherd with his hand buried in the dog’s ruff.
Evelyn followed his glance as she opened a cupboard.
“Ace waited by the door for three days after Nathan died,” she said. “Wouldn’t touch his food unless I sat down with him.”
She set a veterinary emergency box on the table, then reached for her phone. The backup battery on her line still worked. While she waited for the emergency service to answer, she gathered towels and a charged pet-warming pad.
“I thought I was the one keeping that dog going,” she said. “But you can’t stay in bed when someone’s waiting for breakfast.”
Daniel stood with his hands braced on the table while she spoke to the emergency veterinary line. She read out the label on an unexpired prescription from her canine kit, described Tess’s condition and approximate size, and wrote down the instructions she was given. The roads would have to open before an examination was possible. For now, the service helped her confirm what could safely be used and what signs would mean they were losing her.
Evelyn packed the approved medicine with the warming pad, a dosing syringe, and clean cloths.
“You need that heat here,” Daniel said.
“I have a stove.”
“And you’re staying beside it.”
She took her boots from the mat.
“Evelyn, the drifts are past your knees.”
“Then you’ll walk in front and break a path.”
He reached for the bag. She kept hold of it long enough to make him look at her.
“My husband is buried. My boy is buried. Don’t put me away while I’m still useful.”
Daniel released the strap.
She sat down and pulled on her boots.
They went slowly, with Daniel testing the ground ahead and Evelyn keeping one mitten against his elbow where the drifts deepened. Her breath came hard, but she objected whenever he tried to take too much of her weight.
At one point, she caught a boot beneath the crust and nearly sat down in the snow.
“Nathan would have something to say about this,” she muttered when Daniel steadied her.
“He’d be right.”
“He’d better have said it politely.”
Daniel made a rough sound that might have been a laugh. She squeezed his arm once, then made him keep walking.
The fire was still burning when they reached the cabin. Tess lay where he’d left her. Neither puppy had moved far from her body.
Evelyn took off her wet coat and went straight to the rug. She checked Tess’s gums and watched several breaths before opening the bag.
“We follow the instructions exactly,” she said. “And we don’t force anything she can’t swallow.”
Daniel nodded.
The work gave them something to do with their fear. He held Tess gently while Evelyn administered the medicine in small amounts. They wiped away the damp around her muzzle, changed the bedding, and placed the warming pad beneath a folded layer near the puppies, leaving room for them to move away from it.
Tess resisted once. Daniel loosened his hold immediately, letting her settle before they continued.
“That’s it,” he said. “You get a vote.”
Evelyn bowed her head briefly over the bowl she was carrying.
“Lord, keep our hands steady.”
Then she passed Daniel a clean cloth.
The hours collected in small tasks. More water. Another dry towel. A log turned so it would burn cleanly. Daniel held Otis and Finn inside his sweater when they shook, then returned them to Tess for short nursing attempts.
Sometimes Tess seemed to improve. Sometimes her breath grew so shallow he leaned close enough to feel it against his cheek. Evelyn never offered him a promise she couldn’t keep. When he looked at her, she handed him the next thing that needed doing.
At some point, the power returned. The lamp came on beside Claire’s empty chair, startling both of them. Daniel switched it off. There was enough light to work by.
Near dawn, Otis stopped crying and fell asleep with one pale foot resting on his brother. Finn burrowed closer and went still.
Tess’s breathing remained rough, but the frantic pace had eased.
Daniel sat beside her with his forearm on the rug. Evelyn was rinsing a cloth when Tess opened her eyes. She looked toward the basket, found the puppies beside her, and then turned to him.
He bent closer.
With a slow, deliberate movement, she lifted her muzzle and laid it across his hand…
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