"Over there," Orville said, pointing to a makeshift enclosure. "There's six of 'em. Take your pick. Hell, you can take them all if you've a mind to," he added in a sour tone.
Sam crossed the dirt-covered floor to the back corner of the barn. Soft mewling sounds floated in the air as he neared.
The mother lay stretched out on the straw, five bundles of toffee-colored fluff vying for a spot to nurse. A sixth pup, smaller than the others, dug his head into the middle of the fray, only to be knocked away by the bigger pups.
Sam watched as the pup tried again and again to feed. Finally, he gave up and wandered away, flopping to the straw in defeat. His sad eyes watched the other dogs as his head dropped to rest on his outstretched paws.
Sam could relate to how the little dog felt. He'd felt that way growing up more times than he could count. Being the son of a coal miner didn't give a boy a lot, and it seemed no matter how hard he tried to escape the poverty, he couldn't quite make it.
Until Catherine came along. Suddenly his life changed. Money, prestige, respect. And even love. Or so he'd thought. But it wasn't until later that he'd learned why she'd married him - to spite her father.
Hell, what was he doing thinking about that now? She was gone, and he was back where he started. Well, almost. He still had the respect and friendship of the folks in town.
And his family. He couldn't forget that. They were worth more to him than all the money in the world.
The pup was a little funny to look at, with his floppy ears and the snout that made him look like he'd smacked into a wall. But there was something about him that appealed to Sam. "Hey," Sam said softly, setting his thoughts aside. "Here, boy."
The puppy's gaze lifted to Sam, and his stubby tail began to wag. L
eaping up, he bounded across to where Sam was standing, his behind wiggling so hard he even lost his balance a few times. Sam laughed as he leaned over and picked the pup up.
The dog's tongue lapped at Sam's face.
He laughed. "Looks like you need a friend, boy." A wet tongue slid over Sam's cheek.
Orville walked up behind them at that moment.
"I'll take this one," Sam said.
"Hell, he's the puniest one of the bunch," Orville explained. "His ribs is practically sticking through his skin. What do you want that one for? You won't get any work out of him."
"He's not a working dog," Sam replied. "He's a pet."
"If you ask me, it's a waste of time and money feeding a dog that doesn't work."
"Just the same, I'm taking this one."
Orville shrugged. "Suit yourself."
"Good."
"I'll find something to put him in so you can take him home," Orville said, turning away.
A few minutes later, he returned with a wooden crate. Sam gently set the animal down on a bed of straw inside. Immediately, the puppy leaped against the side, trying to escape, yelping at the same time.
"If you change your mind, you can bring him back and get one of the others," Orville said as Sam carried the crate out to the wagon.
"I won't." Sam arranged the crate in the wagon bed, and climbed up. His glance caught the brown wrapping of the package he'd set beneath the seat, and his thoughts drifted to Emma.
She'd love the puppy. And hopefully, she'd love the dress he'd bought her, too. He'd wait until the children were in bed for the night to give it to her. Maybe she'd put it on. A wave of warmth flowed over him at the thought of her creamy skin exposed to him. Maybe he'd talk to her about it being time to make their marriage real. And maybe, if she agreed, he'd be the one to take the dress off.
***
The sun was hugging the horizon by the time Sam came over the ridge leading to the ranch. A cool breeze rustled the leaves on the trees. Smoke rose from the chimney of the house, and a soft light glowed from the windows. Home. Why did it seem so much cosier now? Was it because of the woman waiting there for him? He could picture her in his mind. Right about now, she'd be putting supper on the table. Her face would be flushed from the heat, and a few stray curls would frame her oval face. When he opened the door, she'd give him a welcoming smile that would heat his blood and make him want to grab her right there and kiss those full lips of hers.
He drew the wagon to a stop in front of the barn, half expecting someone to come outside. But the house was quiet.
Good, he thought. It would give him time to put the dog in the barn until after supper when they would surprise the children.