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Heedless of anything now except the need to get to his son, he urged Shade onward. The willing animal slipped once or twice, but recovered. The jolt out of the horse’s usual steady gait barely rattled him; he’d been riding on guard for that since they’d left the barn.
He kept his gaze fastened on the spot where he’d seen the golden dog, realized he could now see him even without the aidof nature’s electric lights. He saw Chance now, too, crouched down beside the dog.
Visions of Jeremy hurt—or worse—flashed through his mind more searingly than any bolt of lightning. He pulled Shade to a halt and threw himself to the ground, barely remembering to pull the reins up and over the horse’s head to ground tie him.
He ran up the rise toward the dog, slipping more than once and not caring. Only when he was just a few yards away could he make out the huddled shape on the ground, with Chance Rafferty kneeling beside it, the dog madly licking the boy’s cheek.
“I think he’s okay,” Chance called out as he straightened. “He found a good place to ride it out, under this stone outcropping.”
Jackson flicked a glance and a nod of appreciation and thanks at the man, but he never stopped moving. When he got there, he wanted nothing more than to scoop Jeremy up into his arms, but knew he had to restrain the need until he was positive he wasn’t injured.
“You taught me that, Dad,” Jeremy said as he went down on his knees beside him. “You said never hide under a tree in a thunderstorm.”
Jackson had to think about that for a second, then remembered it had been a line in one of the episodes ofStonewall. He didn’t let the seven-year-old watch the show, but he might well have heard him going through the lines.
“I don’t want to go back,” Jeremy said, his voice sounding suspiciously shaky. “I like ithere.”
So he’d been right, he’d heard Swiff giving his ultimatums. “Don’t worry about that.”
He felt a nudge as the dog again nosed at Jeremy, as if to be sure he was okay.
“Maverick, sit,” Chance said. The dog sat instantly, but didn’t move away from Jeremy.
“Are you hurt? Did Pie throw you?” Jackson asked, although he seemed as fine as a cold, soaked-to-the-skin kid could be.
“No, he didn’t! I’m fine, Dad.”
He tried to search the boy for any sign of injury, but couldn’t see well enough. And then Nic was there, with a flashlight, kneeling beside them, illuminating things in more ways than one.
“Did you find Pie?” Jeremy asked anxiously. “I tried to hang onto him, but the thunder scared him.”
“We’ve got him,” Nic assured the boy. “Shane found him, and he’s fine. Just a bit muddy, like you.”
She was grinning as if she were as relieved and happy as he was.I love him too, Jackson...
Jeremy grinned back at her and started to get to his feet. The moment he did, Jackson grabbed him and pulled him into that fierce hug he’d been holding back. He felt almost overwhelmed by everything he was feeling.
“You scared the hel—heck out of me,” he said.
“I wasn’t scared,” Jeremy announced. “Mrs. B told me about what happens here when somebody in Last Stand needs help, how the whole town will turn out to lend a hand.”
“Truth,” came a deep voice from behind them, and Jackson glanced back to see the Last Stand police chief there, dismounted and with Pie’s reins in his hand.
“Pie!” Jeremy shouted and scrambled to get free.
“Guess I’d better call Mom to call off the troops,” Nic said, still grinning.
“Already did,” Shane said. Then, with a nod at Jeremy, he added, “And I’m thinking the old saw about getting back on your horse might apply here.”
Jeremy nodded eagerly.
Breathing more evenly now, Jackson said, “You probably need to thank Maverick there first, though.”
The boy immediately turned to the obediently sitting dog and threw his arms around him. “You found me. You really found me,” Jeremy said. The golden head lifted as the animal licked his cheek yet again, his tail wagging madly in the mud.
“You’re both going to need a bath when you get home,” Nic said with a laugh at the face Jeremy made.
“I wish we could keep him,” the boy said, then suddenly, as if he’d just remembered, he looked at the man who had brought the dog. “Mr. Chance? Is he the dog your mom told me about? The one she thought maybe I could have?”
