Page 50 of Graveyard Dog

Elwyn released a heavy sigh. “I sent Michael to you this morning.”

“You what?”

“I faked the phone call about the broken heater and sent him over here.”

Izzy didn’t know what to say at first. Her gaze bounced between them again before she asked, “Why?”

“It’s just…you two are perfect for each other, and it’s taking too long for you to get together.”

“Tell her the real reason,” Michael said, livid with his charge.

“So, you set this whole thing up?” Izzy stood and backed away from them like a rabbit trapped in the nook of a tree by a fox.

“Yes, but not for the reasons you think.”

“Then why?”

“There’s a war coming.”

“Elwyn,” Michael said, adopting his stern-uncle voice.

“We could use someone like you on our team. Someone like Emma.”

“No,” Michael said. “It’s too dangerous.”

She turned to him and pleaded, “Don’t you think she would be safer with us, Michael? Look at her life.”

“My life?” Izzy asked, half-offended.

“No,” Michael argued.

Elwyn stood.

Michael stood, too, using his height to his advantage. “Her ex is dead, and her stepfather is going back to prison.”

“And what happens when the next guy takes advantage of her?” Elwyn yelled, poking him in the chest. “Or the next?”

“She’s learned her lesson.”

“Michael, you were practically made for her. You’re one of the few people in this entire world who would never take advantage of her ability.”

“How do you know I have an ability?” Izzy asked.

Elwyn calmed down and faced her. “I have friends in high places.” She pointed up. “Very high places.”

“What are you?” Emma asked from the hallway.

“Emma.” Izzy rushed to her side and put a palm to the girl’s forehead. “Are you okay? Did we wake you?”

Emma nodded but couldn’t take her eyes off Elwyn. “What’s your name?”

Michael picked up Emma and brought her to meet Hell on Wheels incarnate.

“I’m Elwyn, but a lot of people call me Beep.” She took Emma’s tiny hand in a comical shake.

Emma giggled, her voice thick and sleepy. “I’m Emma, but a lot of people call me Pickle.”

Izzy laughed softly, patting her back. “Nobody calls her Pickle.”

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