Mind Games

He might as well take advantage of a friendly neighbor.

“We’ve got to brush our teeth, get dressed.”

“Okay! Come on, come on. This way!”

Though he stalled the process as much as possible, they started walking up the gravel lane by eight. Walking, Ty calculated, would stretch out the time a bit more, plus give Bray a chance to run, explore, work off some energy.

If the neighbor with the legs wasn’t up and around, he could just leave the basket on the porch, as suggested.

“Should’ve written a note in case, damn it.”

“Damn it!”

“Those are daddy words, remember?”

Bray shot him the most cheerful of looks. “I like daddy words.”

Then halfway up the steep lane, he lifted his arms. Ty crouched for the piggyback.

After the turn, he saw the house. Pretty as a picture with its background of rising hills, of thick trees. Bigger than he’d assumed, since he knew from his granny that Thea lived alone.

She definitely liked color, he noted. And flowers.

A good-sized fairy-tale cottage, he decided, with a witchy sort of garden in front, weeping trees, a generous front porch with a swing and some tables and chairs.

More flowers in pots.

As they got closer, the big dog bounded around from the back.

Ty braced, as the dog looked fully capable of bowling him over, and Bray already wiggled to get down.

“Sit!” He put as much command in the single word as he could muster.

While the dog didn’t stop until he’d reached them, he sat and looked up with love shining.

“Down, Daddy! Down, down, down!”

“Just wait.”

Once again, Ty held out a hand. Bunk nuzzled it, tail thumping.

“Okay. Let’s take it easy. Say hello first, Bray.”

“Hello, Doggie.”

“Bunk.”

“Hello, Bunk!”

Bunk waved in return.

“Gentle, Bray.”

When Bray’s feet hit the ground, he body-wrapped the dog.

“Let’s go knock so we can give the lady back her basket. And thank her for dinner.”

He started to reach for Bray’s hand, but the dog ran at the house, around it. And Bray shot off like a rocket after.