He thought he was stopping for a stray dog in the snow-until he saw what she was hiding beneath her body

by his stove.

“What do I do?” he asked.

“Keep Scout back just enough that I can work. Talk if it helps him. Don’t touch unless I tell you.”

Scout had moved to the edge of the towel, nose quivering. Cal slipped an arm in front of her chest. She did not resist, but her eyes never left the puppy.

Claire gave the little body a touch of glucose paste, then continue reading …