Page 10 of Friends are Forever (Teton Mountain #6)

“ I hate you!”

The words hit harder than they should have as Jewel spun on her heel and dashed up the stairs, the slap of her socked feet echoing off the walls. A moment later, her bedroom door slammed with enough force to rattle the old photographs hanging in the hallway.

Charlie Grace winced. Motherhood certainly wasn’t for the faint of heart.

She took a steadying breath, her hand still curled around the back of a kitchen chair.

Lila had called it yesterday. Wolves. Not dogs.

Charlie Grace had spent most of the night tossing and turning, the weight of that revelation pressing down on her chest. She’d made the call to the Fish and Game Department first thing that morning. Now they were on their way to pick up the pups.

“Timing’s everything,” Lila had said when she prepared to leave yesterday. “They’re still young enough to be rehabilitated. But the longer they’re with humans…”

Charlie Grace had nodded, even as her heart cracked just thinking about her daughter’s tear-streaked face.

A soft knock on the front door pulled her back to the present.

“Must be them,” her dad remarked, still gazing up the stairs where his granddaughter was hiding.

She nodded and opened the door to find two uniformed wildlife officers standing beside Lila, who offered a sad smile.

“Morning, Ms. Rivers,” one of the officers said. “I’m Officer Grant. This is my partner, Officer Hernandez.”

Charlie Grace grabbed her jacket. “Let me show you to the pups. They’re in the barn.”

Lila gave her arm a reassuring squeeze as they passed. “You’re doing the right thing.”

Charlie Grace swallowed hard and motioned for the officers to follow.

Officer Grant adjusted his cap against the morning sun. “Pretty place you’ve got here.”

Charlie Grace gave a nod, arms crossed against the chill. “Thank you. It’s been in the family a long time.”

Officer Hernandez glanced toward the distant tree line. “That where your daughter found them?”

Charlie pointed with her chin. “Just beyond that fence line, near the creek. She and my Aunt Mo thought they were abandoned. Brought them home.”

Grant gave a small, understanding smile.

“Happens more than you’d think. Most folks don’t have a vet friend on hand to break the news.

They discover much later when the pups start acting more wild than domestic—and by then, it’s a whole lot harder to undo.

We’ve seen cases where they get aggressive, start hunting livestock, or even bite people.

That’s when the calls come in, and sadly, it doesn’t always end well for the animal. ”

Charlie managed a small laugh. “Lila didn’t sugarcoat anything; I’ll give her that.”

Hernandez chuckled. “She never does.”

They reached the barn. Charlie paused at the door. “My daughter is up in her room. Heartbroken.”

Grant’s tone softened. “We’ll keep that in mind.”

Inside, the pups stirred in the crate, one of them letting out a high-pitched whimper. The others were huddled together in the worn quilt Jewel had insisted on using, their tiny sides rising and falling in rhythm.

The officers knelt beside the crate, inspecting the pups with gentle hands and quiet voices. Officer Grant glanced at Lila. “So, these are the six? All taken in within the last four days?”

Lila nodded. “Yes. The pups were kept here in the barn.”

Charlie Grace stepped forward. “We honestly thought they were just…lost puppies. Jewel made a little nest back by the grain bags. She’s been feeding them and sleeping beside them every night.”

“She’s eight?” Hernandez asked, eyes softening.

Charlie Grace nodded. “And she’s taking all this very hard.”

Grant stood and removed a small tablet from his vest. “I’ll need to take a brief statement. Just confirming what Lila told us.”

Charlie Grace recounted everything—how Jewel had found them, how they looked like strays, the vet check, the realization they were wolves. As she spoke, the officers listened carefully, never making her feel blamed or foolish.

“Well, that should do it,” Grant said, clicking off the screen. “You did right by calling us. Most folks don’t.”

Hernandez reached for the crate. “We’ll load them carefully and get them to the Jackson rehab center.”

Charlie Grace watched as the officers lifted the crate and carried it out. Lila and Charlie Grace trailed behind.

They set the crate down, and Officer Hernandez pulled a large set of keys from her pants pocket.

Charlie Grace’s gaze drifted upward, past the crate and toward the upstairs window of the house. A pale curtain fluttered slightly.

She blinked. Then looked again.

Jewel’s small face was barely visible behind the lace curtain, eyes wide, mouth drawn tight.

“Wait,” Charlie Grace said, holding up a hand. “Can you give me a minute?”

Officer Grant nodded. “Of course.”

She raced inside and took the stairs two at a time, pausing just outside her daughter’s door. Her knuckles hovered above the wood.

“Jewel,” she said softly, “it’s me.”

No answer.

Charlie Grace eased the door open.

Jewel sat curled on the window seat, knees hugged to her chest, face blotchy from crying.

“They’re leaving,” her daughter whispered.

Charlie Grace walked over and sat beside her. “I know, baby. But they’re going where they belong. People who can help them learn to live in the wild again.”

Jewel’s voice cracked. “But they need me.”

Charlie Grace wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “They needed you to keep them safe until the right people could take over. And you did that, sweetie. You did an amazing job.”

Jewel didn’t move.

“The pups are downstairs,” Charlie Grace said gently. “Still in their crate. Would you come say goodbye?”

Jewel looked at her with a fresh rush of tears.

Charlie Grace smiled. “C’mon, puddin’. Come say goodbye.”

She stood and offered her hand. After a long pause, Jewel took it.

They walked down the stairs slowly, hand in hand. When they stepped out into the yard, the officers turned with warm expressions.

“Is this the young lady who found them?” Grant asked.

Jewel gave a shy nod, eyes fixed on the crate.

Officer Hernandez knelt and unfastened a pouch on her vest. “You know,” she said, “we’ve worked with a lot of people over the years, but not everyone has the heart and courage to do what you did.”

Jewel glanced up, surprised.

“You helped save six lives,” Hernandez added. “And that makes you something pretty special.”

She held out a small bronze pin shaped like a paw print with a star in the center. The engraving read Junior Wildlife Officer .

Jewel’s mouth parted as she reached out and took it with both hands.

“We don’t give these out often,” Grant added with a wink. “But we think you’ve more than earned it.”

Jewel’s face lit up. “I’m one of you now?”

“You sure are,” Hernandez said. “And if you ever want to come see how the pups are doing prior to when they’re turned out into the wild, we’ll make it happen.”

Charlie Grace watched as Jewel knelt beside the crate and whispered her goodbyes to each pup. There were no more tears—just a quiet sense of understanding. Of pride.

The officers eased the crate into the back of the waiting truck, their movements slow and respectful. Charlie Grace stood with her daughter beside her, the breeze lifting Jewel’s hair as she clutched the pin to her chest.

Yes—motherhood wasn’t for the faint of heart. It didn’t require grand gestures.

Sometimes, it was simply standing shoulder to shoulder with a little girl who was trying to be brave.