“Right this way!”
Branford and I followed Channing back behind his hay-filled wagon, where a light brown dog lay with a litter of pups at her teats.
“She’ll be all yours in just a few weeks,” Channing said.
“You’re getting a puppy?” I asked, my eyes wide.
“No,” Branford said with a shake of his head. “I don’t have time to train one right now, and if I got one, I’d want to do the training. I’m buying the bitch.”
I looked at the dog lying on her side, and she looked up at me. She looked tired but well cared for and obviously raising an excellent group of puppies. They were rolling around each other, nursing and whining. Their mother raised her head and licked at them for a moment before settling herself back down in the hay.
“I hate to give her up,” Channing said, “but Sir Branford drives a hard bargain.”
“I’m offering the stud services of my pack for the next breeding season in exchange for her,” Branford said, explaining their deal to me.
“I’ll be keeping three of the female pups,” Channing said, “but they won’t be able to breed with their littermates—not healthy for them. Sir Branford’s dogs are excellent hunters and not related to these pups at all. It will mean three good litters for me next year.”
“Come, Alexandra,” Branford said. He looked into my eyes and took my hand as he led me closer. He held my hand out and slowly pulled my fingers through the bitch’s soft fur. “Alexandra, I would like you to meet Amarra. She’ll become part of my hunting pack when her pups are weaned. She’s the replacement for Lily.”
My gaze darted to his, and I could see the strangest combination of sadness and mirth.
“Lily was a dog?”
“The best ever,” Branford said quietly. “She was found a week ago in the woods not far from the fields where my pack runs when we’re not hunting. She would have had pups in just under a month, but she was…well, she was killed. After she didn’t return to the stable one night, we found her hanging from a tree.”
“Oh goodness!” I cried. “Someone…someone killed her?”
Branford just nodded.
“She was rarely away from me at night,” Branford said, “but she needed to have a good place to have her pups near the rest of the pack. She had been staying out there with them for three nights before she disappeared.”
I looked up into his eyes, and I could feel the anger behind them.
“I do have enemies,” he said quietly, “and sometimes they know exactly where to strike me.”
“I’m sorry,” I said quietly. Some of his words from this morning—the tale of his parents and his reluctance to trust—drove deeper into me, and I understood some of his reasons for his actions.
“She stayed with me in my rooms most of the time,” Branford said, and the purpose of the large square cushion by the fireplace was suddenly apparent. “I loathe the idea of replacing her so quickly, but it’s late in the season. If I want to have pups next year, I want to give the new bitch plenty of time to get used to the pack first.”
“I remember when you first took Lily with you,” Channing said. “You had her picked out the moment you saw her.”
“True, I did,” Branford said with a slight smile.
“It took a little convincing to get him to let the pup go back to her mother until she was ready to be weaned.”
“I wasn’t horribly patient about it as I recall.”
“That’s why you had to resort to hand-feeding her when you insisted on taking her too young.”
“How long did you have her?” I asked.
“Nearly five years,” Branford said. “She was with me almost constantly. The rest of the pack stayed together most of the time, but even when we weren’t hunting, Lily was always by my side. My hope is Amarra will be half as good as Lily was. If she is, I’ll be very pleased.”
“Will she stay in our rooms?” I asked.
“It would be my preference,” Branford said, “but only if you are agreeable. The rest of the pack stays near the other side of the garden, next to the stables, and she could remain there as well.”
I could see in his face he didn’t like the idea.