“You don’t have to guard everything,” she whispered. But Ranger lifted his head slowly, eyes drifting toward the yard again. As if disagreeing. Lily woke up a bit later babbling happily, smashing her tiny palms against the crib bars until Ranger appeared in the doorway, ears perked.
Emily watched him nudge the door open with his nose and sit near the crib, waiting patiently for Lily’s giggles. “He’s sweet,” she murmured. David didn’t look convinced. Still, the household fell into its gentle rhythm. Breakfast. Coffee. A mess of cereal on the floor. Ranger lying nearby, observing everything with that same solemn calm.
By late morning, with David already gone for work, the sun was warm enough that Emily decided to take Lily outside. “Just a little fresh air, okay?” she murmured, setting her down on the grass with her red ball. Ranger trotted out behind them, making one slow pass along the fence before settling under the oak tree, eyes half-closed but alert.
Emily realized she’d forgotten Lily’s water cup. “Stay right here, baby,” she said gently, brushing Ranger’s head on her way back inside. She ducked into the kitchen for only a moment — thirty seconds at most — opening a cabinet, grabbing a cup, twisting the tap on. And then she heard it. A single, heavy thud. A startled cry.