Ben tilted his head as if wondering why he was moving files from the heavy metal cabinet into the smaller tote. Pausing, Dusty plopped down in the old wooden chair, the seat squeaking under his weight, and petted the dog’s head. Ben looked up at him as his tail brushed the floor. “Looks like our luck might run out, buddy. The fire is drawing closer and no one I’ve called has trailers or men available to haul stock. Even if there was someone, I haven’t found a place to take them. With the vast amount of acreage affected, no one nearby has anything left.” He ran his hand through his hair and stared at Ben. “I didn’t need anyone, was happier alone. Now, when the chips are down, I’m out on a ledge by myself.” He sighed. Except for April. She’d worked her ass off at the stable, volunteering her time and energy to help care for the animals. Even more, she added a bit of humor into his life, a renewed thought that perhaps all women weren’t made from the same mold, and made for an overall good friend.
