And she mustn’t forget Bailey, she told herself. She was asking a lot here-of both father and son.

She looked down at Bailey and something in his expression caught her. Made her remember…

Her mother, walking into her classroom on one of her fleeting visits. Misty might have been as old as Bailey, or maybe a little younger.

Her mother staying for all of two minutes-‘just to see my kid’. Speaking gaily to her teacher as she walked out. ‘You look after my Misty; she’s such a good girl.’ Then leaving. As she always left. Sending postcards from a life that didn’t include Misty.

Whoa. In the midst of this drama, where had that thought come from? But the memory of it was there, in Bailey’s eyes. She knew instinctively that his world wasn’t certain, and she was asking more of him.

But, unfair or not, she had no choice. She couldn’t leave the classroom and she could hardly toss the dog outside untended. What to do?

Give him the choice, as she’d never been given the choice.

She stooped. ‘Bailey, we need your father’s help to take this dog to where he can get bandages on his cut leg. Will you go with your dad to the vet’s, or will you stay here with us and paint cows? Your dad will come back after he’s left the dog with the vet. Won’t you, sir? Is that okay with you, Bailey?’

Big breath. She was asking so much. And if she was right in what she sensed…if this little boy had been left in the past…

But it seemed Bailey trusted his father far more than she’d trusted her mother. He thought about it for a moment, looked up at the little dog wrapped in towels and then he gave a solemn nod, answering for both of them.

‘My dad can take the dog to the vet.’

‘That’s wonderful.’ It was indeed wonderful. ‘Aren’t dads great? Will you stay with us or will you go with him?’