He thought he was checking out illegal logging in the Idaho mountains-until he found a German Shepherd locked in a frozen cage, staring at him like it had been waiting for exactly one person

one hand pressed against his ribs, and listened. Atlas came back to him, breathing hard, steam rising from his muzzle. There was blood on one paw, no limp beyond the old one. Grant pulled him close and ran a hand down each leg, checking by feel.

“You’re all right,” he whispered, though he was not sure whether he meant the dog or himself.

Atlas pressed continue reading …