Gifted (Cainsville 0.6)

When the puppy collapsed, too exhausted to even move, it was Dad who scooped her up and took her back to her bed. Then, as they headed for the house, he called Mom.

"We have a situation," he said.

A pause, as Logan heard Mom's muffled voice. Then Dad said, "Yeah, actually there was a mutt, but that's taken care of. The problem is our son

."

Logan tensed. He tried to fall back, to not listen, but Dad caught him and kept him there, walking beside him.

"He found a puppy by the road a couple of days ago. Abandoned in a bag." Dad went on and explained as they walked.

Mom met them out back. She said nothing as they approached. She didn't stand with her arms crossed. She didn't look disappointed. Not angry either. Just thoughtful. She looked maybe a little sad, and, when Logan saw that sadness, he faltered and felt like he was going to be sick.

"I'm sor--" he began, but she was already there, in front of him, arms going around him in a hug just as tight as his father's, longer, though. Holding him against her, she bent to whisper, "I'm sorry you had to see that," and he knew she meant the dead puppy, and he nodded, and then she backed up, her hands still on his shoulders.

"Uh . . ." Dad said, and motioned for her to take her hand off his left shoulder. "The mutt. He--"

"I got in the way," Logan said.

Mom winced, but Logan said, "I'm fine. Just going to have a bruise. Lesson learned, right?" He tried for a smile, but she didn't return it.

"We'll discuss that tomorrow," she said. "For now, the puppy. It's late, and we're not going to talk about it tonight. I'm just going to say that you don't need to handle things alone, Logan. No one expects you to. No one but you."

She looked down at his expression and sighed, "But that's what counts, isn't it? What you expect from yourself." Another hug, lighter and quicker. "We'll work on that. Go on inside. Your dad and I need to talk."

Logan was almost asleep when his door creaked open. Footsteps crossed the room and even before he caught the scent, those footsteps said it was Dad. He kept his eyes shut until he felt him standing there, beside his bed, looking down at him. Not checking whether he was awake. Just watching him.

When Logan opened his eyes, Dad sat on the edge of the bed. There was a long minute of silence. Then Dad said, "That kid. The mutt. What he said . . . I caught a little of it. I heard you two talking. I ran that way and just caught the tail end."

"He was just talking. He didn't threaten me or anything."

"I know. I heard enough to tell . . ." Dad eased back. "I'm not sure if I should say you handled yourself well, because that might encourage you to do it again."

"I got lucky. He was just a kid. A scared kid trying to prove he was brave."

Dad nodded. "But the rest. I caught enough to hear what he said about me."

"Just the usual. I've heard it. Variations on it."

Dad went still. "What have you heard?"

"That you're crazy. The psycho-werewolf thing. That's how you keep them away. By making them think you're the big bad wolf." A small smile. "Which doesn't mean you aren't, just that we don't see it."

Dad shifted on the bed. "He said I'd done something. At Stonehaven. To keep mutts off the property."

"You got there before he told me the details."

Silence. At least two minutes of it. "Do you want to know the details?"

"Not really."

There was a soft exhale of relief. "Okay. Someday, yes, you're going to need to hear them, and I'd rather you did from me but . . ."

"Whatever you did, it was to keep them away. To keep us safe--Jeremy and then Mom and then us." He lifted his gaze to his father's. "I get that, Dad. You did something--something bad--because it meant you didn't have to keep doing smaller things until they got the message. One big message that lasted a long time. It makes sense."

Dad watched him for a moment, and there was this look in his eyes, like maybe he'd rather Logan didn't understand, like he'd rather his kids lived in a world where that wouldn't make sense, because they'd never need to consider it.

Logan sat up and put his arms around his dad's neck and squeezed and said, "Everything's good."