Page 33 of Taming Georgia

He takes a step toward me and reaches for my hands. I freeze.

He removes the towel from the baby and lifts its legs before covering it back up. “It’s a girl.”

“Aw.” I hold the pile of fabric to my chest. “A girl.” I smile.

Wyatt clears his throat. “All right, well, now, you want to put her up next to her mama, so she can nurse.”

I nod. “Okay.” Kneeling, I uncover the baby girl and place her next to her siblings, who are already contentedly nursing.

I stand, and Wyatt and I watch Hope with her new babies.

“She’s not doing anything.”

“Yeah,” Wyatt says with a sigh.

He kneels down and places the little girl closer to Hope. The other puppies squirm, pushing her to the side.

After a minute, he picks her up and stands.

“We’re going to have to bottle feed her, unfortunately. She’s a runt. She’s not fighting to eat, and the other puppies will just plow over her.” He holds the baby to his chest and walks away.

I follow him.

“I’ll feed her,” I tell him.

He hands me the puppy and gets her bottle ready.

I sit in the recliner in the break room with the puppy in the crook of my arm. A bottle in the other hand, I watch as she sucks the milk down—at least, most of it. Some of it drips down her furry chin.

“Keep it in your mouth, sister.” I giggle.

When she’s finished, she falls asleep, and I just hold her. I feel my eyelids getting heavy.

Wyatt comes in. “She finish it all?”

“Yeah.” I nod, holding up the empty bottle.

“Good. We have to give her a bottle every two hours.”

“Every two hours?” I’m exhausted, just thinking about it.

“Yep. Do you want me to take her, so you can head home?”

“No, I’m fine. I could use a blankie though.”

“A blankie?” A smirk finds his lips.

“Yes, please. I’m just going to take a little nap here.” I wiggle back into the chair, pushing the button on the side that extends the footrest.

Wyatt turns to leave.

“Hey, Wyatt. Can you make sure the blankie is free of pee or vomit or anything else equally gross?”

He lets out a chuckle. “I’m not going to let you cover up with a blanket that smells like shit. I’m not a total asshole, Peaches.”

I yawn. “I don’t know anymore, Wyatt.”

He squints and opens his mouth to say something before shutting it and walking out. I cup my hand around the slumbering furball on my chest and close my eyes.

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