PART 2
“You folks lost?” I called.
The old man lifted his head. Rain ran down his face.
“No, sir,” he said. “We’re not lost.”
The woman tightened her grip on his sleeve.
“We saw your light,” he continued. “We don’t want trouble.”
Nobody who says that ever arrives without it.
He swallowed.
“We were wondering if we could rest in your barn for a little while. Just until the rain lets up.”
I looked from him to her.
Her mouth was trembling, but she wasn’t crying.
That mattered.
People who still cry usually believe somebody might care.
She looked like she had run out of that luxury.
“What are your names?” I asked.
“Walter Bennett,” the old man said. “This is my wife, June.”
“Ryan Carter,” I said. “This is Max.”
Max walked forward before I gave him permission.
That dog knew better.
He stopped in front of June, sniffed her gloved hand once, then sat beside her boots like he had been assigned to guard her.
June stared down at him.
For the first time since she reached my gate, her face changed.
Not a smile.
More like her body remembered what safe felt like.
I pointed toward the house.
“You’re not sleeping in my barn.”
Walter’s face dropped.
May you like
“I understand. We’ll move along.”
“I said you’re not sleeping in my barn,” I said. “You’re coming inside.”
