Page 2 of Declan (Men of Clifton, Montana #53)

In the back seat, Tank, his K-9 partner, sat with calm intensity, his eyes fixed on the passing scenery.

It was clear from the dog’s steady gaze that he, too, was yearning for the comfort of home.

All Declan could imagine was a quick, hot shower cleansing away the night’s fatigue before sinking into the sanctuary of his bed.

His mind drifted back to the conversation he’d had with Sam when he arrived for his shift yesterday afternoon. The memory replayed vividly in his head...

“Declan, have a seat,” Sam had said, stepping into his office. With casual air, he hung his hat on the worn rack, pulled out his chair, and settled himself with a sigh.

“What’s up, Sam?” Declan had asked, an undercurrent of anxiety lacing his tone as he wondered if this was a prelude to being let go.

“I’m moving you to day shift starting Monday,” Sam announced, his words falling into the room like an unexpected gust of wind.

“Day shift?” Declan had echoed, sinking back into the chair as the news began to set in.

“I know you prefer nights but with this change, I can reduce everyone’s hours.” Sam explained, his voice gentle yet firm.

Declan sighed. “I see.”

Sam continued, his tone turning reasonable.

“We’re shifting to three schedule blocks; seven a.m. to three-thirty p.m., which will be you, Nevada, Logan, Jack and Brody.

Brody will be in the office with me most of the time.

You other four will be out doing rounds.

From three p.m. to one a.m. will be Mark and Paul.

Then eleven p.m. to seven a.m. will be two other deputies I’m hiring. The second shift will be the longest.”

Declan leaned forward, his elbows resting on his thighs as he fixed his boss with a steady gaze. “Why not let me stay on the night shift and have the new deputy take the day? I’ve got a lot to manage during the daylight hours.”

“You’re more experienced handling your dog, Declan. Besides, not too much happens after dark. Is that why you prefer it?”

A smirk played on Declan’s lips. “To be honest, I’d rather keep busy…”

“I’m sending an email to everyone else about the change. I didn’t get a chance to talk to anyone face to face, except you and Jack. Jack’s actually quite happy with the shorter hours,” Sam noted with a hint of amusement. “I’m sure everyone will be, except you,” Sam added pointedly.

“It’s not that I don’t want to work during the day; it’s just that night shift allows me to get things done at my own pace at home during the day,” Declan replied, his voice heavy with reluctant acceptance.

“Would you consider hiring someone to take care of your horses? I’m sure you can find someone reliable,” Sam suggested, trying to offer a silver lining.

“Yeah, I could look into that. And what about weekends?” Declan inquired, his brow furrowing as he sought every possibility.

“They’ll remain the same, except now you’ll be on every third weekend instead of every other one. So, most of you will only endure a weekend shift once a month,” Sam explained.

“Okay,” Declan muttered, still mulling over the changes.

“Look, I know you’re not thrilled with this rearrangement,” Sam conceded, “But I want a K-9 unit on days. Go home and think it over.”

“And if I decide against it?” Declan pressed.

Sam exhaled deeply, a sigh of uncertainty. “I’m not sure. You wouldn’t lose your job, but a K-9 would go on days. I know it can’t be Tank because you’re his handler, so a new deputy and K-9 would be hired.”

Pushing himself fully to his feet now, Declan declared, “I’ll give it some thought. I’ll see about hiring someone. I’ll need someone with manager or foreman experience. If that pans out, I suppose I can manage day shift.”

“Alright, Declan, and remember you should be home by four in the afternoon, which will give you some time to work around your place, if you need to,” Sam said.

“If you can find someone capable of stepping up, it will make your life a whole lot easier. I’ve seen you trudge in here half-asleep, and this change could really make a difference for you.

You’re off this weekend, so give it some serious thought. ”

“Okay, Sam,” Declan responded, his tone tinged with the weight of the decision ahead.

“How many hours of sleep do you get?”

“I get to bed around two or three and get up around seven.”

“So, if you’re lucky, you get close to five hours sleep.” Sam shook his head. “That’s not good, Declan. Even if I kept you on night shift, you’re still not getting enough sleep.”

“That’s the hours, Sam.”

“Declan, you know you don’t have to take it, but if you don’t, I don’t know what will happen with Tank.”

Declan sighed again. “Tank is my dog,” he said with conviction.

“I know how you feel about him, but he’s your partner and I want him on days.

“I think if you hire someone dependable, it will be better for you. You’d get some much-needed rest.” Sam raised his hand up when Declan opened his mouth to speak.

“Declan, you’re a damn good deputy, but if for some reason, you can’t find someone you can depend on to work at your place, we’ll have to take it from there. ”

“I get it, Sam.”

“I hope you do, Declan. We’ll see what happens if you can’t find someone, but make sure you get references. I might know a few of them and I can let you know who’s a good match.”

Declan nodded, left the office and drove to The Feed Store.

The memory of the conversation faded as Declan snapped back to reality when he slammed on the brakes; a deer had suddenly burst across the road, its white tail flashing in the darkness.

Taking a deep breath, he paused on the empty road, his eyes scanning for any sign that more deer might be following the first. When no additional runners streaked across the pavement, he eased his SUV forward, the engine humming softly in the quiet night.

Earlier, he had swung by The Feed Store, carefully noting down a handful of unfamiliar names on a scrap of paper.

Declan returned to the small town of Clifton ten years ago after working for the Montana Highway Patrol for eleven years.

It had been his lifelong aspiration, a path lit by the legacy of his father and grandfather.

His father had ascended the ranks with relentless determination, reaching Chief in less than fifteen years before retiring at sixty-five, after an enduring forty-four years of service.

The only thing that had finally enforced that decision was the relentless grip of rheumatoid arthritis in his knees, a condition that might have been a daily hindrance, had it not forced him to hang up his hat.

It got so bad that he couldn’t even work in the barns at his ranch.

There were good men at his father’s ranch, and he had a good manager.

Now, Declan needed to do some hiring if he did choose to go to day shift.

The only thing about not going to daylight was that he’d have to give up Tank and he couldn’t see that happening.

At just twenty-one, Declan had started his career at the MHP, then his heart pulled him toward the specialized and challenging work of the K-9 unit, a decision that led him into additional rigorous training, learning not just how to handle a canine partner but how to form a bond with a four-legged comrade in arms.

Declan spoke to Sam about a job, since he’d been more than ready to come home. Sam was happy to have him and his K-9, but it did wear on Declan working in his barn most of the day and the long hours on night shift.

His current partner, Tank, had been by his side for three years.

Tank was not his first companion. His previous K-9, Buster, had met a tragic end during a harrowing robbery attempt.

That day, the chaos had left Declan reeling with despair; he wasn’t sure he could continue in the K-9 division after that devastating loss.

Buster had charged after the fleeing assailant with fierce determination, only to be struck down in a single, ruthless moment when the criminal turned and fired.

Declan had felt the sting of a stray bullet graze the protective vest he wore, a sharp reminder of the ever-present threat of harm.

Despite his personal anguish and the intense surge of anger that urged him to repay the violence with violence, he had managed to chase down and arrest the suspect without ever crossing that dangerous line.

After Buster’s solemn farewell, the loyal dog was laid to rest in a quiet cemetery dedicated to K-9 officers, a somber, sun-dappled site where Declan had stood for over an hour, his heart heavy with grief yet filled with pride over the sacrifice made in the line of duty.

Letting go had been agonizingly difficult, but he found solace knowing that Buster had died doing what he loved, and that was protecting him.

Declan had confided in his father, declaring that he was done with that particularly painful chapter of his job, yet his mother had reminded him that the bond forged with a canine partner transcended individual losses.

“It’s all the same, no matter who it is,” she had said gently, insisting that loss should never mean quitting.

Accepting her counsel, Declan had embraced the healing passage of time, and six months later, he welcomed another K-9, Tank, into his life.

Glancing into the rearview mirror, he caught sight of Tank, whose playful attempt to lick through the protective wire sent a grin spreading across Declan’s face.

Patting the dog’s muzzle affectionately, he turned his focus back to the darkening road as they made their way home under the veil of darkness.