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“Hey, buddy,” Jodie said softly.

The dog’s ears flicked forward.

She crouched, careful of her ankle, and held out one hand. “Come here. I’m not going to hurt you.”

He considered that for all of two seconds before backing up.

“Okay. Message received.”

Mac saw her crouching down and looked past her to the dog. He walked slowly to her and crouched beside her. “Stray, eh?”

“Looks like it.”

The dog’s gaze moved between them, wary but curious enough that he hadn’t bolted yet. His tail gave one uncertain sweep.

Jodie reached into her pocket and found a doggie treat. Just about every article of clothing she owned had at least one forgotten in a pocket—an occupational hazard of working at Watchdog. She tossed it well short of him. He stretched his neck forward, nose twitching.

“It’s okay, buddy. It’s yours. And there’s more where that came from.”

The dog tilted his head and took a cautious step forward, head down, gaze fixed on Jodie.

“That’s right. Go ahead.”

The dog lunged forward, snapped up the treat, then turned and bolted away. Jodie watched him disappear behind the barn.

“Aw,” Mac said. “I was sure you had him.”

“He’ll be back. I’ll tell Hank.”

“Tell Hank what?” The man himself was walking toward Jodie.

“Do you know if someone lost a dog, or maybe you did?” She pointed toward the barn. “A male, he looks like some sort of shepherd or heeler or maybe even a kelpie mix. Definitely a stray.”

Hank nodded. “Yeah, I’ve seen him. Tried to catch him, but no luck. We’ve had some folks sell their land and leave. Maybe he got left behind.”

“I hate that.”

Hank only nodded. “Can I get your help on something?”

“Sure.” Jodie smiled and went back to work, but every few minutes she found herself glancing toward the barn, hoping the stray had changed his mind.

By the time they packed up for the day, the sun had dropped low enough to throw long shadows across Hank’s pasture. Jodie was tired, dusty, and more content than she’d been in a long time.

She climbed into Mac’s truck and looked back toward the barn one last time, hoping to catch another glimpse of the stray dog.

Nothing.

“You’re worried about him,” Mac said.

“I am. He’s too thin.”

“He found the right group of people to hang around.”

Jodie smiled. “Assuming he comes back.”

As Mac pulled onto the road, she looked toward the hills where they’d seen Jet’s band that morning. For years, they had been only abstractions. Now she knew what their hooves sounded like coming over a hill.

All but one. Luna hadn’t been seen in three days.