Page 31 of Black Dog
Helm was amazed that Blackie had come so far so fast with the injury Ram and Storm had described. His admiration for Blackie was growing with each passing hour, each new bruise, and each temptation to feel sorry for himself.
Just before sunrise, Elora made herself a hot cocoa and poured it into a thermos cup. She pulled on her boots, coat, hat, scarf and gloves, took the cocoa, and quietly shut the mudroom door so as not to wake Helm and the twins.
She’d been inside for too long and needed to get outdoors for a walk along the lane. Maybe it would clear her head. Maybe it was time to confront facing life without Blackie. At that point she could no longer deny the possibility that she might never see him again. She wiped at a tear and took a sip of hot heavenly liquid.
By the time she reached the lane the sky was turning gray. She turned left and began a slow stroll. A new dusting of snow had covered all sign of human activity. It was Sunday so there were no tire tracks. No footprints. It was entirely too pretty for her dark thoughts.
When she reached the curve of the lane she kept going, thinking the fresh air could only do her good. And stopped when she rounded the curve. There was something. Dark. Canine. A quarter of a mile away.
Elora opened her mouth to say, “Blackie”, but again his name froze in her throat as it had when she’d feared he was lost. Tears instantly began streaming down her face. She threw the thermos down and began running, being able to tell instantly when Blackie saw her because his pitiful pace picked up and he began hobbling faster, ears lying in a show of both deference and happiness.
Without regard for someone witnessing her capability for speed, she rushed toward him throwing her gloves aside. Her horror at the sight of his wound warred with the joy she felt at feeling his fur between her fingers.
“Blackie,” she finally managed to say. “I was so scared.” She laid her cheek next to his back and that was when she saw something unbelievable.
Helm, who was supposedly upstairs sleeping in his bed, and Dolmen, who was supposedly sleeping in his kennel, were walking toward them looking like they’d been at war.
“Helm?” Elora rose to her feet.
“He’s here,” Helm said with a voice so hoarse it didn’t rise above a whisper.
“Gods, Helm. What…?” Elora was torn between staying with her injured dog and going to see to her son, who looked like he was barely standing upright.
The Tesla pulled up. Ram didn’t spare Elora or Blackie a glance. He went straight to Helm and took him into an embrace that warmed Helm’s heart and soul, if not his body, and said, “There are no words to say how proud I am to say you’re mine.”