Grace by Contract by Rachel Rossano

Grace

The pair of us ascended the stairs once again, this time with a black-and-white shadow in tow. The puppy’s nails clicked on the steps, and his tail beat at my skirts as he scampered ahead.

“He is going to need a name,” Silas observed.

“You don’t approve of Whip?” I asked.

“I believe in naming things what you hope them to be: stalwart, faithful, brave.” He glanced over his shoulder as he leaned on his cane at the top of the stair. “What do you hope him to be?”

“Valuable and steady.”

“Valiant?”

“Yes.”

“Then let us call him that.” He turned to the dog, who had sprawled untidily next to him on the top step, tongue lolling. “What do you think, Val?”

The dog lifted his head to regard his new master and sniffed the air.

As Silas worked his way past him and on down the corridor, Valiant leapt to his feet and eagerly caught up, almost tripping Silas in his efforts to stay close.

“That’ll do,” Silas ordered the dog, using one of the commands he had been trying to teach the newly recruited shepherds.

Although he had a moment of apparent confusion, the dog responded by calming and giving Silas space to walk. Silas paused, watching the dog as he settled his hindquarters on the floor. “He has been trained. Perhaps his skill is just not proven.”

“Or just young and exuberant,” I pointed out as I approached them.

The dog lifted his head and watched my movements with bright, intelligent eyes.

“Perhaps.”