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He laughed at that, since he’d worked damn hard when he was on Badger’s crew, but this personal work of Timber’s was a little different, and he knew that she understood that.

He sent her a thumbs-up, popped his phone back into his pocket, and reached for his hammer again.

He’d replaced the boards on the outside deck already and the support beams for the roof that would go on top.

There had been an old awning, but time and weather had completely destroyed that to the point where he’d ripped it down and reframed it for a permanent roof atop the deck.

Not everybody would see that as a priority, but he had certainly identified this project as something he could do fairly quickly and would have a big impact on his lifestyle.

He was an outdoor boy through and through, and having a deck, particularly when the weather was up and down, would be a big boon.

Not to mention that the animals thoroughly appreciated it.

He laughed, reached down, and scratched Philly on the back of her neck.

She just looked up at him, her tail wagging.

“I know, girl. We’re almost done for the day. ”

Kojack barked at him, and Timber picked up the ball on the ground nearby and tossed it for him.

He knew it was a game that would never end because Kojack had a ball fixation that just didn’t quit.

And that was okay, as long as he understood that, when work had to be done, that took priority.

The dog didn’t understand in the least, of course, but that was all right too.

Timber laughed as Kojack dropped the ball at his side.

Timber threw it a few more times while he had a few more sips of water.

Then he returned to measuring and ensuring everything was level and plumb.

With the new post up, his next plan was to get the ridge framework secured to each post and also to the existing roof on this main cabin.

Then he would put up the rafters, followed by the plywood, some waterproofing, and, before long, it would be a permanent roof.

He had shingles nearby, and, as long as the weather held, he should be okay to finish off the roof in the next day or so.

He needed to go into town and get more supplies, but he was holding off as long as he could.

Town was just that, town , and that meant people, so not his favorite thing to do, but he also had to take Lucy in for her checkup.

He looked over where she was, in the basket beside her brother.

Lucy and Bingo, both King Charles spaniels, had been rescues that came his way within days of his moving here.

He just smiled as Lucy looked up, batted her eyelids at him, and stretched out.

She was now missing a leg and was still adjusting to life without that extra support.

She would take any affection and love coming her way, particularly if it meant she got to be carried around, something she was way too accustomed to.

The previous owners hadn’t taken her to be checked until she’d somehow gotten an ugly infection that would cost her a leg.

They wanted her put down instead, but Timber happened to be there, picking up Philly from her checkup, when he’d heard about Lucy.

He’d talked to the vet Tiffany, a young woman he couldn’t help but admire, and Lucy’s surgery had been done, with Timber taking care of her ever since.

The owners, hearing about it, had given him Bingo, as the two siblings were bonded.

Lucy was such a sweetheart, but she was currently one of the biggest financial draws on the place.

She wasn’t exactly a contributing member of the property, and that was all right too, as far as Timber was concerned.

Not everybody had to pull their weight. Some of them got away with doing absolutely nothing but eating and sleeping and looking for love.

Her brother Bingo had somewhat adopted her lifestyle, sticking close by her side, as if understanding that her life had changed in ways that nobody had expected. Timber knew firsthand how that felt. He understood that everybody needed support at times, and right now Lucy was at the top of the list.

Yet surely she must sometimes think that all this was way too much.

She’d been hard-pressed to even try to get up and walk, but something about being outdoors with the other animals had urged her to take a few steps, then a few more and a few more.

Her balance was still terrible, and she fell several times, but she was improving every day.

As long as Timber could get her to keep getting up and getting out a bit, life would be that much easier on her.

He walked over, bent down, gave her a quick cuddle, then said hello to Bingo, who stretched out a paw right beside him. Timber had to laugh. “The two of you are the laziest dogs I’ve ever seen.”

Lucy gave half a bark, high-pitched but excited.

Any time he talked to her, she always had the same reaction, as if she was absolutely thrilled that somebody was taking a moment to say hi.

He always wondered how animals ended up with some of the people that they did.

He didn’t blame the previous owners; Lucy had come down with a serious infection, and most pet owners would have chosen to put her down.

Yet Timber saw the value in her and knew she deserved a chance to live, but that didn’t mean everybody would.

He straightened up once more, then looked back and announced, “Come on. Let’s get those timbers up, as long as we’ve got the crossbeams in place.

These upright ones won’t hold against the wind.

” And, with that, he got back to work, but his instincts once again had him looking around a few minutes later, a weird feeling prodding him.

Frowning at not seeing anything still, he headed back to get more work done.

Yet he was always aware of that weird sense of something off, something wrong.

Finally, with the crossbeams up and everything tightened down, he looked over at Kojack. “You haven’t picked up on anything, have you, buddy?”

Kojack just wagged his tail.

That meant their earlier visitor wasn’t human.

Kojack had a very strong sense of anything human, with good reason, but that also meant it was an animal, probably feral.

And Timber had just enough wounded animals around the place that, if this new visitor was a predator, that would make sense.

Yet often Timber found that, even if a predator, it could still need help.

He preferred to think that some automatic distribution system sent the animals in need to find their way to him, and then he would do what he could.

His time as a field medic in the military held him in good stead for most things, on two legs or four.

When it was something more serious, he had a great relationship with the veterinarians in town, mostly because he kept bringing them so much business.

But they also gave him a hell of a deal, and, more often than not, he ended up getting their services and their supplies for cost. He couldn’t ask them for more than that because everybody had bills to pay.

When he was finally done for the day, he stopped, grabbed his water bottle, then slowly opened his sixth-sense gaze, focusing on his peripheral vision, trying to determine just what he had been sensing.

Catching the barest hint of movement off to the side, he froze and saw a deer, staring back at him.

Even from here, he felt the waves of pain coming off her.

Ordering the dogs to sit, he slowly backed up in her direction, trying not to scare her, not at all sure just what he was looking at or why she was here.

He didn’t know whether she was injured or something else was going on. He hoped it wasn’t serious.

As he got closer, he shifted just enough to take another look at her.

She was standing on four legs, but holding her weight off the front.

She stood between multiple branches, so it was much harder for him to get a clear impression of her, but, when he did see it, his gaze sharpened as he assessed the situation, and then the anger hit—and hit hard.

An arrow was sticking out of her shoulder, and it seemed to have been there for way-the-hell too long.

Knowing that he would now be tasked with the job of trying to get even closer to see if he could do something for her, and then actually do it, he shifted as close as he could and then slowly talked to her, trying to keep her calm, while he took a careful look at the injury on her shoulder.

“Hey, girl,” he whispered. “That looks mighty uncomfortable. Can I help you with that?”

She just stared at him through the wells of pain in her gaze, and he winced, knowing just how much pain she would be in.

He’d been shot a couple times himself—never with an arrow, thank God—but, as he stared at it, he realized that the tip of the arrow was in but wasn’t as deep as it could have been.

So, whoever was out there hunting with an arrow was somebody who also didn’t know what he was doing.

You never left an animal in pain like this, and the newbie hunter probably had no clue how to even operate the equipment he was using.

This was a bow and arrow, not a crossbow, and, for that, Timber was grateful because this would be a little bit easier for him to deal with.

As he walked closer, the doe stiffened and tried to move.

He froze and whispered, “That won’t help. I need you to just stay where you are.”