His head popped back up, with all that light shining on his face. “Really? Really? Holy cow! I can have one? I can just . . . but how do I pick?”

Hugh crouched down, got his share of puppy love. “They’re both great-looking puppies.”

“They both have a lot of border collie in the look,” Lori commented. “Girl has more brown on her face, but they both have pretty markings, that mix of black and brown and white. And the fluffy tails, floppy ears. And they both, I swear, have their mama’s eyes. Maybe you’re leaning more to a boy dog, or a girl dog.”

Dillon only shook his head. “But they’re family, and friends, too. You can see how they play together and, you know, kiss each other and stuff. If I pick one, the other gets left behind. It doesn’t seem right to, you know, separate a brother and sister. It doesn’t seem fair.”

Dillon shot Hugh a look, a quick one before he buried his face in puppies again. But in that instant it filled with one heartfelt plea.

Blowing out a breath, Hugh stood. “I need to make a call. If you’d excuse me for just a minute.”

“You go right ahead.” Lori sat on the edge of a chair as Hugh stepped out. “I can see whichever one you take home, you’re going to take good care, be a real friend. That means a lot to me.”

“It’s hard to give them to other people?”

“Well, not so much when you know it’s the right person. Then it makes you feel good inside. That’s how I feel now, knowing one of these sweeties is going to have a boy who loves and tends and takes real responsibility.”

“Won’t the other one feel sad?”

“I’m going to do everything to keep the one who stays with me happy and healthy until we find just the right person, just the right forever home.”

Torn between his desperate wish for a puppy and the genuine guilt at leaving one behind, Dillon could only stroke soft fur.

Hugh stepped back in. “You’re a fortunate boy, Dillon, to have such a wise and loving mother. With your approval, Lori, Dillon has permission to adopt both.”

“Both? I can have both?” Face shining, Dillon did his best to hug both puppies. “They can both come home with me?”

“If Ms. Greenspan agrees.”

“Please?” Arms full, heart in his eyes, Dillon turned his face up to Lori’s. “I’ll take good care of them. We have lots of land for them to run on. When I’m in school, Mom and Gram will look after them, but before and after, they can come with me while I do my chores. I’ll feed them and make sure they have fresh water. I know how.”

“I think the two of them already picked you. You know these are smart dogs, about as smart as they come. You’re going to be able to teach them lots of tricks.”

“It’s okay? I can have them?”

Forgetting her careful makeup, Lori dabbed at her eyes. “You already do. I have a list of things you have to promise to do. They’re up on their shots, but when they need more, you have to see to that. You’ve got a good vet—your mom told me who you use. I use the same, so I know she’s a good vet. When they’re old enough, you have to promise to take them to the vet and get them spayed and neutered. That’s really important. And I’m going to warn you, while they’re just about housebroken, taking them to a new home usually sets that back. You’ll have to do some work there.”

“I will. I promise.”

“All right then, I’m going to get that list, and you can sign it. And I have a brochure to help you with tips on care and feeding and training. I always give my adopted humans a little care package—of treats and toys. And I’m sorry to say I’m going to need fifty dollars. That’s to cover some of the expense from foster care.”

“I don’t have any money with me, but I’ve got allowance saved up. I can bring it to you as soon—”

“Dillon, this is my gift. My thank-you gift to you.”

Torn all over again, Dillon had to shake his head. “Mom said—”

“That this gift was acceptable,” Hugh finished. “It would mean a great deal to me if you said you accept it, too.”

Hugh held out a hand to seal the deal, smiled when Dillon shook.

“Thank you. This is the best gift anyone’s ever given me.”

“You gave me the same. Lori, Julia said the rescue organization you’re affiliated with is called Loving Hearts Animal Rescue. In addition to the adoption fee, I’d like to make a donation to your group.”

“That’s generous of you, and much appreciated I can promise you. We can take care of the paperwork right back here. Dillon, why don’t you take your puppies out that side door? There’s a little fenced yard. I’d say you’d be smart to take them out, let them do their business before you put them in the car.”

It took nearly half an hour before Hugh helped Dillon load the puppies—in a borrowed crate—into the back of his SUV. Along with what Lori called a congratulations basket of dog food samples, treats, chew toys.

Since the puppies seemed happy—for the moment—to share a big blue bone-shaped toy, Hugh got behind the wheel.

“I guess the next step is for you to name them. Any ideas?”

“He’s Gambit, she’s Jubilee. They’re X-Men, and pretty awesome.”

“Gambit and Jubilee.” Hugh glanced back at the dogs as he eased out of the drive. “Good choices. I think we have one more thing to do before taking them home. We should go buy some collars, leashes, beds, what have you. Part of the gift,” Hugh said before Dillon could comment.

Dillon looked back, then at Hugh. “I’m never going to forget it.”

Hugh turned, started the drive, and said simply, “Neither will I.”

PART II

THE NEXT TURN

From fame to infamy is a beaten road.

—FRANCIS QUARLES

All the world doth practice stage-playing.

—MONTAIGNE

CHAPTER NINE

County Mayo ◾ 2008

Cate stood by the lake watching the big black dog her nan had loved swim. Ducks scattered, quacking protests, while Lola skimmed through the water like a seal.

Overhead, the stacked clouds spat out a thin drizzle, but every day was a holiday for Lola.

Lola had grieved at first when Nan passed—quietly in her sleep like the man she’d loved. The dog had lain at the foot of Nan’s bed for days, inconsolable until Cate tied one of Nan’s scarves around Lola’s neck.

A comfort in scent, Cate thought, until gradually Lola had regained her always happy demeanor.

Another funeral for the Sullivan clan—and the world. Another celebration of life for the family.

While she understood why the loss and the rituals brought back the nightmares, the anxiety, that didn’t make them any easier to get through. Even now, with the dog splashing, with so many of her family inside the cottage, she caught herself looking toward the woods on the side of the lake.

In case she saw movement, in case someone waited.

She knew better—she wasn’t a child anymore—but still she looked.

She knew those woods, just as she knew the garden, as she knew every room in the cottage. For most of the last seven years, this had been home. The time spent in L.A. was just visits.