Check in with Chuck, she decided. If Peck’s on the scent and the kid crossed the creek...

She didn’t allow herself to think fell in. Not yet.

Even as she reached for her radio, Peck alerted again. This time he broke into a run, shooting her the briefest of glances over his shoulder.

And she saw the light in his eyes.

“Hugh!” She lifted her voice over the now pounding rain and whistling wind.

She didn’t hear the boy, but she heard Peck’s three quick barks.

Like the dog, Fiona broke into a run.

She skidded a little as she rounded the turn on the downward slope.

And she saw near the banks of the busy creek—a bit too near for her peace of mind—a very wet little boy sprawled on the ground with his arms full of dog.

“Hey, Hugh, hi.” She crossed the distance quickly, squatted down, pulling off her pack as she went. “I’m Fiona, and this is Peck.”

“Doggie.” He wept it into Peck’s fur. “Doggie.”

“He’s a good doggie. He’s the best doggie ever.”

As Peck thumped his tail in agreement, Fiona pulled a space blanket out of her pack. “I’m going to wrap you up—and Wubby, too. Is that Wubby?”

“Wubby fell down.”

“So I see. It’s okay. We’ll get you both warm, okay? Did you hurt yourself ? Uh-oh.”

She said it cheerfully as she draped the blanket over his shoulders and saw the mud and blood on his feet. “Ouch, huh? We’re going to fix you all up.”

His arms still around Peck, Hugh turned his cheek and sent Fiona a pitiful, bottom-lip-wobbling look. “I want Mommy.”

“I bet you do. We’re going to take you to Mommy, me and Peck. Here, look what Mommy sent you.” She pulled out the little bag of gummy worms.