Page 2 of Shadow Sabotage
“I’ll flip you for it.” He gave her a wicked grin.
“Deal.” She pulled a quarter out of her pocket. “Heads or tails?”
“Heads.”
She tossed the coin into the air, then smacked it down on the back of her wrist. When she pulled her hand off, she smirked. “Sorry. Tails. You’re up.”
“How do you always win?” He gave her a mock scowl as he put his beer down and headed over to set up their tent beside mine.
She winked at me. “He’ll never learn.”
As darkness fell,we feasted on steaming baked potatoes and foil packs of ground beef, onions, celery, and carrots. I felt happy in a way I hadn’t in ages. When we had been kids, the three of us had done this kind of thing all the time. But then Rhett left Wyoming, he and Cheyenne broke up, and our trio remained fractured for over ten years. When he returned and they got backtogether, I thought we’d pick up right where we left off. But we had a lot more responsibilities these days. Seemed like we only saw each other in passing or at SAR training.
I’d missed this. A lot.
Part of me worried I’d never have it again once Cheyenne and Rhett got married—an event that was coming up way too soon. I’d already felt the gap between me and Cheyenne grow while she focused on planning their wedding. Instead of the three of us, they were becoming a pair with a life together that wouldn’t include me.
I was happy for them. But I also felt the absence of the closeness we used to share, and I wondered what would happen when they moved into a new life stage completely. If they’d leave me behind altogether when they start popping out kids and acting like, well, grownups.
Which, at nearly thirty, we were. But I sure didn’t feel like one yet. And I wasn’t ready for things to change again.
I grabbed the special foil pack I’d made for Ash—one without salt or onions—and checked to make sure it had cooled off before unwrapping it and placing it on the ground in front of her. A long string of drool dripped from her mouth, but the polite dog sat and waited for permission.
“Go ahead,” I said, encouraging her. “It’s yours.”
She gave me a look of pure gratitude, then gobbled it up, her tail thumping the leaves behind her.
“You’ll be her favorite now,” Cheyenne laughed.
“I’m counting on it.” I grinned, plopping back into my seat and taking another long swig of stout.
This was the life. The smell of woodsmoke, the crisp evening air, the stars popping into the sky one by one—this was Wyoming at its best. Figured there wasn’t another place on earth as pretty as this. I was here with my favorite people and the world’s best dog. It was perfect.
Ash started whining, looking at Cheyenne with big eyes.
“Potty time.” Cheyenne stood, shrugging. “And you know she’s too polite to go anywhere near the campsite. I wish I could just let her off-leash.”
“Do it. I won’t tell anyone,” I said, laughing.
She smirked, but her eyes were full of affection. “You know, you really are the worst deputy.”
I winked. “Don’t I know it.”
It was a sentiment we repeated often. It didn’t bother me coming from Cheyenne because I knew she didn’t mean it—even if everyone else did.
Truth was, being a deputy in the sleepy little town of Wildwood didn’t require all that much. But I had very little patience for rules that didn’t take individual circumstances into account, which meant that the sheriff and I didn’t always see eye to eye. I thought of him like a second dad, but that didn’t mean we always agreed.
This kind of thing was a perfect example. Ash was a highly intelligent, well-trained dog who would never run off or make trouble. Cheyenne was a great owner who would never allow her to. Seemed silly to force rules onto them just because some people weren’t smart enough to know how dogs should behave in public.
But unlike me, Cheyenne was a rule follower who wouldn’t think of letting Ash roam freely inside the park. So poor Ash was stuck on a leash that wasn’t worthy of her.
She started sniffing around, tugging Cheyenne toward the edge of the tree line.
“Sorry,” Cheyenne called. “Looks like we’ll be a minute. She smells something she wants to explore.”
“I’ll come with you,” I said, jogging over toward them. Ash’s nose was to the ground, her tail down as she sniffed and pulled on the leash. “She’s got quite a nose on her.”
“I know. I’m thinking of training her for SAR work and starting a canine unit here. She’s got the nose and the drive. She’d be good at it.”
