Page 48 of Sometimes You Stay

George and Ringo jumped against their fence, drool dripping from their jowls.

“I guess stalls will wait. Breakfast won’t.” He grabbed a giant scoop of food and filled the metal bowls in each kennel, the dogs immediately ignoring him for the organic, high-end kibble his dad thought was overpriced. Maybe it was, but Finn was willing to invest in keeping the dogs as healthy as he could.

He’d moved Bella into her finished whelping box, complete with padded flooring and plenty of cozy blankets, two days before. But still there were no puppies. She looked up at him as he stepped into the private room but almost immediately dropped her head back to the padded floor.

“Hey, sweetie.” He crouched beside her, running his hand along her side. “You hungry?”

Even as he poured her food into her dish, she didn’t move.

“Soon, eh?” He hoped so. For her sake.

Joe barked from outside. Through the window, Finn saw him standing every bit like a guard dog, but intruders were much more likely to end up being slobbered on than attacked.

A second later, the crunch of gravel in the driveway sent Finn walking in that direction. “Who is it, boy?” he asked Joe as he walked by.

Together they jogged around the side of the house, Joe leading then circling back and hiding behind Finn. With another burst of bravery, the dog sprinted ahead toward a sleek silver truck. But when the door swung open, Joe dashed back to safety, nudging Finn forward with his nose.

Finn rubbed the dog’s head. “Way to protect the property.” Joe’s bark said he was just as proud as could be. He clearly didn’t understand sarcasm and probably thought he’d really been a good boy all these years.

He didn’t have time to analyze his dog’s shortcomings as the truck’s driver jumped out, shutting the door behind him. Justin Kane waved, shoving the fingers of his other hand through his shaggy black hair before it quickly fell back across his forehead.

“Justin, didn’t expect you today. Certainly didn’t think you’d make the drive.” It probably had taken him longer to get into and out of the truck than it would have to walk across the road from the dairy. “Everything okay? Natalie okay? You all need a hand?”

Justin chuckled as he reached out for a shake. “Everything’s fine at home. Natalie’s about a month from her due date but refuses to put her feet up.”

That sounded about right. Natalie was as stubborn as they came, and she had refused to slow down right up until she delivered their last three kids too.

“My boys have been asking to come over to see your latest litter.”

Finn checked the cab of the truck, but Justin’s mini-mes weren’t in there. “Of course. You can bring ’em by anytime.”

“Thanks.” Justin dipped his chin. “And thanks for helping out with the new shed at our place.”

Finn had spent all of five or six hours over the course of two days, helping Justin frame the thing a few weeks before. “That was no problem. Always happy to pitch in.”

“You know, the dairy runs pretty smoothly these days. And we’ve got plenty of guys on staff. If you ever need a hand over here...”

He tried to prop his smile back into place. “I appreciate the offer.” And he did. He just couldn’t accept it. Not until he’d proven himself. Until he’d made this business into something more.

Justin nodded and pointed toward his truck. “I had some leftover lumber. Thought you might be able to use it on the extension you told me about.”

Finn opened his mouth but snapped it closed as the image of that paper on his desk flashed through his mind. Ignoring it didn’t make it go away or make the truth any less true. It hit like a two-by-four to the temple.

Somewhere, someone knew the right words to say in this situation, but this was not the place, and he was not that person.

Thanks, but no.

Thank you, but I’m not a good investment. At least that’s what the bank said.

Thanks, but I don’t need it anymore.

That’s really nice of you, but this place isn’t expanding anytime soon.

He managed to force what he hoped was a smile—or at least something that looked less like indigestion than it felt—and settled for the simple. “Thank you.”

“You want me to drop it off by the barn?” Justin hitched a thumb toward the bed of the truck.

No. Because then he’d have to look at it. And remember the rejection. And remember that under his leadership, this business was going to stay exactly as it had been for the last fifty years. Yeah, that was a great reminder.

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