Chapter 1

B aron Sagway pocketed his phone and turned to look at his mother, who was slowly moving back and forth on a rocking chair on her deck.

She frowned at him and asked, "Who was that?" He was reluctant to say anything, but she sighed. "I need to know, especially if it involved your brother."

He squatted beside her. "My boss on this job. The one who asked me to look for the War Dog. His wife also designed my prosthetics."

She sniffed, and he knew the tears would follow soon afterward. "The War Dog that Brad rescued?" she asked, her voice low.

Baron nodded. "Yeah, It's one of the animals he rescued," he confirmed, "and I know you may not want to hear it, but we can't blame anybody for what happened to Brad… and certainly not an animal."

Her sniffles continued for a moment, and she finally nodded. "I know that,… in theory." She hung her head. "I mean, it could have happened any day. We knew for a very long time that he had a heart condition that wasn't fixable. Still, it's tough not to consider the idea that, if he hadn't gone out after those dogs, he might still be alive."

"He was also doing what he loved to do, Ma," Baron pointed out, "and I think that's just as important."

She looked up at him. "But he's still gone."

His heart broke at that, and he nodded. "Yes, he is still gone, and nothing will bring him back," he murmured, hating the grief that washed over him. "I know it's devastating, but we can't blame the dogs, and that's the last thing Brad would want us to do."

"I know that." She released a heavy sigh. "It still hurts. I'm glad you two finally buried the hatchet."

"Our issues were a long time ago. A lot of water under the bridge since then and we became close. Very close. You know he was bugging me to come back and move in with him.… So yes, it hurts me too. And it'll keep hurting until we all have a little bit of time to process the loss. It'll hurt forever, but the sadness will get replaced with happier memories. Just because we knew it could happen anytime didn't mean we were prepared and ready for it to happen."

She gave him a ghost of a smile. "You know he would be livid if I even suggested blaming the dog."

"Of course he would," Baron agreed, a smile also lighting his face. "That's who he was."

"Even if you know it to be true, that doesn't mean you have to go running out there and repeat his mistakes."

In the end, that was the crux of the matter. She'd heard just enough of the conversation to realize that Baron could be putting himself in danger to find the dog. "The hurricane is over," he pointed out, "but that dog and whoever else is out there could be in need of rescuing."

Ma shook her head, the soft gray curls bouncing around her head. "God only knows what you were doing for the military, with all your secrets and not even telling your own mother what you did for the government. You lost part of a leg doing your confidential work. But that's over, so it doesn't have to be you now," she argued. "I don't care who these people are who are calling you now. I don't care who they send where and what they get themselves into searching for. It doesn't have to involve you."

"No, it doesn't have to be me. However, if it's important to us to complete the work that Brad started, then it needs to be me," Baron stated.

She considered that for a long moment and slowly nodded. "I guess it means his death wouldn't be in vain."

"His death would never be in vain, Ma, not now,… not ever. He spent a lifetime doing all the right things for all the right people, and he made the most out of every day," he declared. "If nothing else, we should be proud of the life he lived."

"I am. Of course I am," she stated crossly, "but that doesn't mean I was ready to let him go. You sit here and preach it, but you know damn well he wasn't ready to go. He was never a quitter."

Baron chuckled. "Not only was he not ready to go, he probably would have laughed at the idea that his time was coming. Still, that doesn't mean we can forget the reality that we all knew it could happen anytime. He understood his situation very well, and he made the decision to live his life to the fullest, and we need to remember that."

She waved her hand dismissively, not wanting to listen to him, but Baron already knew how this would go. Finally she groaned. "At least we're done with the damn hurricane. Will you just look for animals?"

"No, of course not," Baron clarified. "I'll go back over all the places that Brad went to… and see if any of the missing dogs returned to their homes. Plus, I will see if anyone else out there needs help. We haven't had a chance to check on everybody, as it is."

"Which is what Brad was doing too when he died," she muttered.

He nodded. "Yes, exactly. That's when he died."

"Well, then,… I guess you better go out there and see what you can do," she uttered with resolve, "but you better be home for dinner."

He chuckled softly. "This will be my first pass of the area, so I don't know how much time it will take," he explained. "I'm sure that dinner is a reasonable expectation, but it all depends on what we find out there. I know it's not easy for you, but it's not easy for me either."

"We?" she asked.

He nodded. "I'll probably go by the rescue center and see if anybody there is willing to tag along. I'll also need the information on the particular quadrant where it all went down, and help finding my way around, so I'm not just poking around blindly."

She perked up at that. "See? That's what bothers me."

"I understand, but I won't be foolish," he replied, "and I'll let people know where I am. Some areas still aren't as safe as they should be, but I have people who can watch my back."

"Good, it's definitely not as safe as it should be," she noted, glaring at him, "and you know very well I don't want you going at all."

He nodded. "I know that, but you also know I have to go."

"Oh, I know," she grumbled. "Why would you be any different? Your brother had the same attitude."

"When people or animals need help," Baron said, with a smile, "somebody needs to step up. I get that, for you, that doesn't necessarily mean us, but, for a lot of people, us is all there is."

She winced. "If your father were here, he would be out there too."

"Of course he would. Where do you think we learned it from?" Baron gave her a smile.

She sighed. "It's still not easy being the one left behind."

"Well, if you were in better physical shape, I would consider taking you with me," he offered. "But, since you aren't, I need you to stay here and to stay safe, while I do what I can to find the animals."

She nodded at that. "You need to stay safe too, son," she declared, looking back at him.

"I will, Ma. I promise."

She rolled her eyes. "You and your brother, you could always roll those lies right off your lips, as if they meant nothing," she replied, "but they need to mean something."

He looked at her and nodded. "I'm not lying. I'll be careful. I promise. Remember that this isn't really connected to what happened to Brad," he added. "You and I both know that his heart event could have happened anytime and anywhere."

She nodded. "I hear you, and I know that, but knowing it and feeling it are two different things."

"Of course. I get it." He leaned over and gave her a gentle hug. "I'll try to be home for dinner, but…"

"Right, don't wait up," she quipped, with a small smile. "The least you can do is keep in touch."

"That I will do," he promised.

She looked at him intently for a moment and then sighed. "Fine, go on," she relented, waving her hands. "Go find this dog, and, if you find anybody else who's in need, don't forget them either."

"Of course not," he agreed. "I've been doing search and rescue in these types of situations for a long time, so obviously I'll help whomever I can."

"Except," she snapped, "that damn Jolene. Don't you even think of lifting a hand to help that lying gold-digger."

"Jolene?" Baron frowned. "Wow, that's a name from the past. Is she still in town?"

"Of course she is, still looking for another man to believe she's pregnant with his child, just so she can get married and stop working." Ma shook her head. "And to think my two brilliant boys fell for her and her lies is beyond me."

"Now, Ma, we were young and impressionable. However, we learned our lesson. Brad never married again, and he also divorced her as soon as he found out she was not even pregnant." With a final hug, he picked up his wallet, tucked it into his back pocket, grabbed his jacket and his keys, and walked out the door. With any luck, he would make it home for dinner, but it rarely happened, particularly in situations like this.

With a wave from behind the wheel, he pulled out and headed into the devastation where the hurricane had centered. More than one reason to go back there because, in his own mind—and he hadn't mentioned it to his mom and wouldn't if he didn't have more evidence—Baron had this inkling that maybe his brother didn't have to die, and that maybe somebody else's hand had been involved.

Without any proof, Baron had no way to know for sure, which was why working this dog rescue was the perfect cover for him to start digging into what happened to Brad.

Brittany stood, groaning as her back screamed at her. Straightening up from the position she'd been in for a long time was always a bitch. She was sorting through things that were salvageable and things that weren't, and it was a never-ending process.

Her grandmother's house had been a really old one and didn't withstand the hurricane's impact. Brittany suspected that the insurance company would write it off as a total loss, and that would just make it even harder on her grandmother. She'd been fighting to stay here instead of going into a retirement home already, and now she couldn't stay here. She was currently over at a friend's, but that was a short-term situation at best.

Brittany walked around the main floor of the house, navigating through the mud and the sand and the garbage that had floated in. Trees had smashed through windows and doors, and, while she knew she wasn't technically allowed to be here, a few other neighbors were wandering through the area, as she was, searching for any valuables that were possible to salvage, though it was looking pretty grim.

Brittany was here because her grandmother was rather desperate for a few things, mostly her little dog, which had been pulled out of her arms, as she had been trying to get out of here. The wind had picked up the little thing and carried her off someplace. Brittany could only hope that someone had found her and she was still alive. If so, she couldn't imagine what the poor little thing might have been through. So Brittany was willing to do whatever was needed to find her and to bring her home. She belonged with her grandmother.

As she did another pass through the place, she thought she heard a little yelp. She froze, tilted her head, and listened again. "Pocket, is that you?" she called out.

She listened intently, thinking she heard another little yelp. She moved quickly in that direction, knowing it wasn't necessarily Pocket by any means, but, if an animal was in need, she was right there for it. She listened again, hearing nothing. Frowning, she wandered through the area and called out to Pocket several more times.

When she heard a vehicle, she stepped back into the shadows. She watched the other neighbors do the same thing. The last time anybody of any authority had come around the area, they had told her to leave because it wasn't safe. Regardless of the buildings still standing, some of those could collapse later —which was a valid observation. Being belligerent about the cops' warnings wouldn't help, and, if those authorities got ugly, she tended to give in. Still, Brittany didn't want to right now, not when potentially she had a sign of progress in finding Pocket.

When the large black truck rumbled slowly down the street, she realized it was likely somebody else looking for people or possessions, or it could also be somebody coming in to take advantage of the situation and steal something. The neighborhood was a mess, with wreckage all over, making it the perfect opportunity to grab other people's stuff and run.

She'd had more than enough of that attitude, and it was hard to fathom. Why would anybody even think to do such a thing when people were already down and out? She didn't know, but more than a few looters had been around the area. The big black truck could only go so far before a tree was in the way.

The driver hopped out, grabbed a chainsaw, and efficiently cut up the tree, pulling it out of the way enough to make room for the truck. She smiled at that, thinking he could come back anytime. She was all for anybody who could make the roads here more accessible.

As the man turned and hopped back into the vehicle, she frowned, thinking it was somebody she knew. She watched carefully, but he didn't appear to recognize her. He did lift a gloved hand and wave, then drove forward. Abruptly he stopped, turned off the engine, and hopped out, walking toward her. She waited. As he got a little bit closer, she realized why he looked familiar, but he wasn't Brad.

He asked her, "Are you okay?"

She shrugged. "I'm looking for my grandmother's dog,… Pocket," she stammered. "Her little dog called Pocket. I wasn't very hopeful, but I thought I heard something a moment ago."

His eyebrows shot up. "Let's give it a good look."

She hesitated. "Do I know you? You look an awful lot like somebody I know."

He looked over at her and nodded. "You're probably thinking of my brother, Brad."

"Yes. I'm surprised I haven't seen him around here."

He hesitated. "You would have," he began, then turned and looked around for a moment, then back at her, "but he passed away."

She froze. "What? Brad died?"

He nodded. "Yeah. He's always had a heart condition, and, doing these rescues,… well, we knew that one day his heart couldn't handle it," he explained. "It's been a pretty rough deal. Sorry to surprise you with that news."

"It's such a shock. I'm so sorry for your loss." She stared at him, stunned. "I had no idea."

He nodded. "Most people don't know. Besides, everyone's got bigger fish to fry right now. Plus it wasn't directly related to the hurricane. His heart just gave out."

"But he still came out and helped everybody anyway," she noted.

He nodded and smiled. "Yeah, he did. That's who he was."

She gave him a warm smile. "Your brother really was an amazing person. If anybody ever needed anything, he was right there."

"And that's good to hear. He was that way as far back as I can remember. He did what he felt was right, but it was hard on our mother. She always worried about him."

"Oh, ouch," Brittany muttered, followed by a sigh. "It's always so hard on those who are left behind."

"What about your grandmother? Is she okay?"

"Well, she's alive," she replied, as she pointed at the devastated house behind her. "This was hers though."

He frowned. "That's pretty ugly destruction."

"It most certainly is. The main structure is still standing, but not a whole lot else. Most of the roof is gone too."

"Will you rebuild?" he asked.

She shook her head. "No, not likely, too much damage. I don't know what her insurance situation is like, but this place was her last wave of defiance to avoid going to a home," she shared, with a small smile. "I'm not sure she'll use that excuse anymore."

"No, but she'll try," he suggested, with a grin. "Is anybody ever ready for that stage in life? I can't say that I blame them."

"I know. Isn't it terrible that we don't have much in the way of other options for them?" Looking around, she shook her head. "I would love to keep her close, but I don't know how to do that now."

He nodded. "Did you know my brother well?" he asked.

She sighed. "Not really. He was always around. I saw him recently, as he was out looking for lost animals. I did ask him if he had seen Pocket, but he hadn't. Apart from that, I don't know where she is, but, a minute ago, I thought I heard a dog." She wandered around and started calling out for her. "Pocket, where are you?"

"Pocket, huh ? That's an interesting name."

"You should see the size of her," she replied. "She's pocket-size, and that just became her name."

"That's all it takes"—he chuckled—"for nicknames to stick and to become their permanent names."

"Exactly," she agreed. Just then a slight yelp came again. She turned to him excitedly. "Did you hear that?" But he was already striding in that direction. She raced behind him, as he headed around the side of the house. Some roofing was on the ground, with some tree branches on top of it.

He quickly started removing the branches. "Call her again."

She got down to the edge of the roofing and called out to Pocket several more times. When the yelps came again and again, she laughed. "My God, I can't believe it. She's probably under here, isn't she?"

"Maybe." He looked over at her and added, "But…"

The smile fell off her face. "Right, but that doesn't mean she's in decent shape."

"No, it doesn't, but we don't know either way just yet." He picked up another load of branches. "Let's just stay calm and focus on what we're doing."

And with that good old grim and solid advice, she pitched in to help him move as many of the tree branches as she could. When she bent down to reach for a piece of the roofing, he waved her off.

"You don't have on thick-enough gloves," he warned her. "This stuff will cut up your hands. Let me move this layer." And, with that, he quickly grabbed the edge.

As soon as he lifted it, a small dog bolted out from underneath, where she'd been pinned and unable to get free. "Pocket!"

Pocket raced to Brittany, jumping all over her in joy. Brittany laughed as she scooped up the little dog and held her close.

"Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes," she cried out in joy.

The stranger put the tin roofing on the ground and smiled at her. "A happy dog."

"As she should be." Brittany rubbed her all over. "Especially considering that she's been under there for days. I've been looking for her all this time. Only today did I hear her yelp."

"She might not have heard you with the noise around here," he suggested, "and maybe she's been unconscious too."

"I'll get her to a vet and checked over," she said. "Thanks for the assist. Where are you heading? I am so sorry.… I don't even know your name."

"I'm Baron," he replied, with a grin. "Brad was a good ten years older than me." Her eyebrows shot up, and he nodded. "I was a latecomer,… which has been an ongoing joke in the family. My mother tells me that I was still welcomed though."

At that, Brittany smiled. "I'm Brittany, and I'm guessing she was pretty happy to have you, regardless of when you showed up."

"Isn't that the truth?" He reached down and stroked the little dog's head. "She really is pocket-size, isn't she? She'll be hungry, but, as soaked as everything is, she might have had sufficient water under there." He turned to look back at the roofing he had moved. "She was pinned pretty tightly under that though, so she's probably a bit dehydrated. She'll need some food but only a little at a time at first."

"I've got food and water in the car," she noted.

"Have you seen any other dogs around here?" he asked, turning to survey his surroundings.

"I thought I did the first day, but it's been such a mess. I'm not sure that I would say it was a dog versus something else, like a coyote," she murmured. "So, I really don't know."

"Where did you see it?" he asked.

She pointed down several blocks. "It wasn't terribly friendly, so I wasn't sure and didn't get that good of a look. We were all making so much noise too," she added. "Then, every time a vehicle comes up, people generally hide, you know, in case it's the authorities trying to kick us out because it's not safe and all. Most of the people are the neighbors who lived here. We've been trying to sort out if anything is left to salvage."

"Yeah, I came here for that too," he shared, sorrow in his tone. "My brother's place is just a few blocks over and yet was almost completely missed by this. There's a little damage but not much."

She nodded. "Good thing it did. You've already lost your brother, so you didn't need to lose all his things too." At that, the little toy poodle in her arms licked her chin and wiggled rather frantically.

"You should go feed her," he said, with a smile. "She's looking a little on the desperate side."

She put the little dog on the ground, and the dog ran around in circles, yelping. "I need to get her back to my grandmother too," she noted. "That would make her day more than anything."

"Unless she has to go into a home and then can't take the dog with her."

She winced at that. "I hadn't considered that. Good Lord," she muttered, looking back at the house. "It's killing me to see it like this. Nothing salvageable is here."

"Get Pocket checked out, and I'll keep looking."

"Looking for what? You never did say," she asked curiously. "What are you looking for?"

"Sorry, I guess I didn't. When Brad's truck was found, some of the rescue dogs were still in the back, but others were missing. It's not as if we have any records at this point. Everything happens so fast in these storms and in the aftermath. People just do the best they can and hope for the best, but it doesn't always happen."

"Oh." She winced. "I didn't even think of that. So, he never got to finish the trip?"

"No, he didn't, and I want to ensure that any of the animals he was out here risking his life for are saved."

She nodded, looking up at him, realizing how fresh the loss was and just how much this mattered to him. "I'm so sorry.… It's one thing to lose possessions, but it's another thing entirely to lose a family member. I know you said it wasn't because of this event, yet at the same time it was."

He nodded. "Exactly, and that's the discussion I'm having with my mother right now. A part of her really hates everything to do with this work, and, at times, she blames the hurricane."

"And yet it wasn't the hurricane."

"Exactly," he agreed, with a smile. "If it wasn't the hurricane, then chances are it would have happened anytime. Yet, without the stress of the hurricane, she thinks he might have lived longer."

"Oh, that's a rough one too," she muttered, staring at him. "I hope you find a way to make peace with it."

"Well, if I could find the dogs he was working so hard to rescue," he noted, "it would at least bring me some closure."

She nodded. "I don't know anything about which shelters he was working with out here. I did see him earlier at one point, when I was trying to get my grandmother out, and she wasn't being very cooperative," she shared, with a sigh, "and he did have a truckload then."

"A truckload of what?" he asked her.

She frowned as she thought about it, dragging her mind back to the last time she had seen Brad. "I saw the cages with dogs in them, but I don't know which dogs." She raised both hands. "He had a lot of them."

"Large, small?"

"Yes, all kinds. There did appear to be shepherds in there, but more than a few people around here have shepherds."

"Well, the one I'm looking for," he began, "was a War Dog, with somebody scheduled to look after him, but then, when the hurricane hit, I guess they left the dog behind."

She stared at him in shock. "That's not fair. Poor dogs."

"Yet you know it happens on a regular basis. So what are they supposed to do, when they have minutes, or seconds, to get out or into a shelter of some kind."

She winced and nodded. "You're right. I saw that here myself," she muttered, "and I can't judge other people for it. Sometimes they have literally seconds to run, and, in the face of that monster hurricane, no doubt it's every man for himself," she noted. "But if Brad had the War Dog in the truck, you would think it would have been there with the others."

"His cage was empty, per reports I'm getting, and I'm not even sure how long he has been out here," he pointed out. "If the dog got loose from the crate, he might be out here helping somebody else or foraging for himself."

"Oh, I really like the idea of him out here helping," she replied, "particularly if it's a dog trained for search and rescue or something, though I don't know how that all works."

Baron nodded. "A ton of variables are involved. And just as a lot of soldiers came back in various conditions, the War Dogs did too. So, I can't make any assumptions about this particular War Dog, not without talking to someone who has handled him recently. I would love to think that was an option, but I need to find a way to confirm it. It would be great to talk to the dog sitter, or, who knows, maybe I could get more from the War Department."

"Maybe you should give it a try," she suggested. "Seems to be a good way to move forward to me."

He grinned at her. "That's because you want a happy ending."

"I need a happy ending on something around here," she stated, as she stared around at the mess. "We all do."

His smile faded away, as he looked at her. "You're right. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make light of it."

She shook her head. "And I didn't mean to make you feel bad. Honestly this has all been such a challenge that it's hard to know what any of us are supposed to do at this point."

"We each do what we always do," he said. "We survive and do the best we can, one day at a time. It's bound to be a situation of just putting one foot in front of the other for a long time, but it will get better."

"Got it." She chuckled. "Glad it's that easy."

"It's not that easy," he countered, shaking his head. "It's not easy at all, but it's doable, and it's the only real way going forward. So that's what we have to hang on to." And, with that, he lifted a hand, "If you hear anything or see anything…"

She frowned. "I need your number. I can't contact you without that."

He brought out his phone, and they quickly exchanged numbers. "I'll text you, if I see anything."

She nodded. "That would be a relief. Lots of people here are still missing their pets. I'm so glad to have found Pocket, and I really appreciate your help. I could have never gotten her out by myself. Not many people are lucky like that. I know for sure the neighbor here has two Labs, and they haven't found them either, so if you see them…"

"Will do," he replied. "I'll keep you posted. Maybe we should have a database or something."

"I know the search and rescue people had one of the animal groups come in, and they were trying to pick up all the animals that had been left behind," she shared. "I don't know if maybe the Labs are there. I did tell the neighbor to contact them, but I don't know if he has or not. I can't imagine anybody's had a chance to set up a database yet," she added, "so things were definitely uncoordinated and a mess."

"It often happens with natural disasters," he agreed, with a careless wave. "Yet it will improve and get better as they go ahead."

"I'm glad to hear that." She stared around at the house. "I just don't know what improvement I can even look forward to at this point."

"Did you live here with your grandmother too?"

She shook her head. "I'm over a few streets, but I'm in the opposite direction." She pointed to the north.

"Where's your grandmother staying now?"

"She's staying with a friend of hers at the moment, but it's looking as if my house is the next stop," she said ruefully. "That's something she may not be ready for, but, as they say, desperate times or whatever." She stepped back to give him room to leave. "Disasters or other unexpected events sometimes mean we don't have any choice, so we do what needs to be done, even if it wasn't in our plans." She waved at him as he left. "Let me know if you find anything."

"Will do. If you see or hear anything," he repeated, as he looked down at little Pocket, who was circling Brittany's feet, "let me know." And with that, he got into his truck and drove forward around the tree he'd so easily cut through.

She watched him for a long moment, until he disappeared from view, then bent down, scooping up Pocket. "That's really sad news about Brad," she murmured. "Yet Baron seems like a very interesting person."

Pocket just snuggled in close, not really caring what she said, as long as it was in that tone of voice that said she was safe after all her trauma. And, for that, Brittany was definitely in agreement. There were times to worry, and there were times when it was so much easier to just know that you were okay. Right now, that's all Pocket needed to know.

She carried her to her car, left parked a way down the road. "Let's go see Grandma."

With that, she got in the car with Pocket and left.