“Honey, it’s cleaned up,” the neighbor woman said. “If you’d just take a look—”
“No, I can’t. I’m sorry. Not yet. I don’t want to impose on you, we’ll go somewhere else—”
“Mary Alice Livingston, you know that isn’t it at all! I just want you to feel okay.”
Ben decided to head that off, because he didn’t want to get embroiled in conversations about feelings. “How about I take the dog in, look around? You know about Sela Gordon distributing her stores of gas from the underground tanks, right? I brought extra storage cans full, and a portable generator. If you two men will help me get the generator hooked up and fueled, we’ll turn on the heat and get your house warm.”
Immediately they both looked distracted by the different subjects he’d thrown at them. He knew from his own experiences that having something else to think about was a relief. Logically taking the dog in to look around wouldn’t change a damn thing, but the Livingstons were too emotional right now to think logically.
Mary Alice brightened. “Yes, let the dog look around. What’s his name?”
“I haven’t named him. I thought I’d let you do it.” That was a giant distraction.
Her eyes widened and she looked at the dog with something approaching joy. “I get to name him? Oh my! That’s a big responsibility, isn’t it, boy? That’s a good boy, yes you are.” She punctuated her words with scratches behind the dog’s ears, who was properly ecstatic.
Ben whistled the dog over. “Is the house unlocked?” he asked.
Both of the Livingstons looked taken aback, because obviously that hadn’t occurred to them. “It is,” their neighbor affirmed, and went inside with Ben and the dog.
Ben didn’t do anything specific, just let the dog run around inside and sniff at everything, let it get accustomed, and also to get his own scent in the house so the dog wouldn’t feel abandoned. He looked in the kitchen where the shooting had happened, and while they were waiting for the dog to explore, he and the neighbor talked about what had happened at Sela’s store, about the gas—the neighbor had filled his car and also a couple of storage cans—about how hard Mary Alice had been taking everything. She didn’t feel her home was safe any longer; she’d lost her place of refuge.
Ben had thought of a lot of things when he’d gone back to his place hours ago to get the dog and the parts to get the suction pump going. He hadn’t known Mary Alice and Jim hadn’t been able to go back into their house, but he knew how people reacted to trauma, and he knew to change the environment. That’s what he himself had done, an insight that struck him only now, for the first time. He’d come to these mountains, isolated himself after living for years as part of a team, and set about making himself as self-sufficient, and self-contained, as possible. Mountain living was different. The effort required to become self-sufficient had been the means he’d used to distract himself, to get him to the point where he could . . . where he could begin healing.
He hadn’t thought of himself as wounded. He’d thought of himself as fed up. It wasn’t until he became able to tolerate more contact with people that he could begin to see where he’d been and how far he’d come.
Sela. She’d been the lure that had brought him out of the cave, the same way he was using the dog to bring the Livingstons out of their cave. The comparison amused him, though he didn’t know if he’d tell her that. Her gentleness was what he’d noticed first about her, and he’d wanted to protect that, keep it untarnished; telling her something that might embarrass her wasn’t the way to do that, though he suspected she might think it was funny. Maybe one day in the future he’d tell her.
“Whaddaya think?” the neighbor asked, jerking him out of his thoughts.
He had no idea what the guy had said, so he shrugged. “I think we need to get the generator out of the truck and fired up, get these folks some heat. They can’t live in a house this cold.”
“They’re welcome to stay with us, but they want their own space and at the same time Mary Alice has been afraid to come back. How you gonna work this?”
“The dog,” Ben replied, and went back outside with the dog following on his heels.
“Have you thought of a name yet?” he asked Mary Alice as they pulled the generator out of the back of the truck.
Of course the dog had dashed back over to her for more ear scratching and belly rubs, and it was rubbing against her legs in a frenzy of affection. She actually blushed. “I think Sajack,” she said. “I like— I used to like watching Wheel of Fortune.”
“Sajack’s a good name,” Ben said. “Listen. Do you think you could take care of him? I’m out away from the house a lot, and the boy needs more company than I can give him. With him in the house, no one else would be able to sneak in, and mountain curs are quiet and protective dogs.”
Her face lit up. Watching his wife, Jim seemed to catch on. “I’d like having a dog around,” he said slowly. “I’ve missed having one. But how will we feed him? We’re having trouble feeding ourselves.”
“I’ll hunt for you.” Ben made the offer with a sense of resignation, because he’d already known he’d have to do it. “I brought some food, his blanket and bowls, and the rope I use for his leash. His collar is pretty ratty, sorry.”
“I can make a collar for him from one of my old belts,” Jim said, beginning to smile himself as he looked at the dog. He squatted down and patted his thigh. “C’mon, Sajack, come let Pops pet on you.”
Obligingly the dog bounded toward the obvious invitation, and Mary Alice came with him.
While the old couple was bonding with the dog, Ben and the neighbor took the generator to the house and got the electric heat pump running. That done, Ben retrieved the food and the dog’s things—which included his old shoe—and took them in. Seeing the shoe, the dog raced after him into the house, wanting his toy. Jim followed, and, somewhat reluctantly, so did Mary Alice. Ben saw the alarmed look she cast toward the kitchen, then the dog pounced on the shoe and began shaking it from side to side and a smile wreathed her face as she watched him.
Making another trip to the truck, Ben brought in a kerosene heater and an extra can of kerosene. “After the generator gets the house warm, use the heater to keep it that way, at least until Sela can get some braziers made.” He had no doubt she’d manage it, somehow, if there was a kiln anywhere in walking distance. He looked around. “I think that’s it. I have another stop to make, so I’ll be going.”
Jim approached with his hand held out. “Son, I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done for us.” He nodded toward Mary Alice. “This makes all the difference.”
Ben shook the gnarled, bony hand, still vaguely surprised to be touching someone voluntarily.
The sun was getting low, the long day almost gone. He was hungry and tired, and that was the least of it. Part of him, if he lived to be a hundred, would never recover from how he’d felt when he’d been racing down the mountain in the dark, terrified that he’d find Sela dead in that store over some fucking gas and knowing he’d never forgive himself for not thinking ahead and knowing there was a slim window of opportunity for stealing it.