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earlier, he had pushed the gate shut behind him like always, trusting that the latch would snap down on its own. Except it hadn’t.
    A gap, no more than a few inches wide, beckoned the bull onward. I may have mentioned that cattle are not always the smartest creatures. But one thing they are good at is finding a way out of wherever they are. Even if by accident. Like now.
    See, I don’t know that the bull looked around and saw the gate was partly open, but Slick had turned him that way and the gate was where he was used to going. What I figure Cam and Ray had meant to do was have Slick direct him to the far gate that led into a series of chutes, where they either loaded the stock into trailers or vaccinated them.
    Something funny happened to me in the moment that I realized the bull was going to blast through that gate. And by ‘funny’ I mean odd, because even I didn’t expect it of myself. What happened is that I got mad. Like fuming, steam-coming-out-of-your-ears kind of mad. No way was I going to let that snot-nosed knucklehead run over me.
    Our eyes locked. He was bearing straight down on me. Like he thought he’d just pound me into the dust on his way to freedom. Did he really think I’d let him?
    So I lunged at the gate. Barked with all my might. A string of ferocious, authoritative barks. Even though my collar was crushing my windpipe.
    The leash snapped. I lurched forward. Caught myself.
    I bounded to the gate. Hackles raised. Up on my toes.
    Time seems to change pace sometimes. So it took me a second to realize he was actually slowing. And turning. Away from the gate.
    I stayed where I was. Barked a few more times, just to make my point.
    By then, Cam had darted across the field and flung the gate to the chute wide open. The bull trotted over that way, as compliantly as a hog zeroing in on a feeding trough full of slop.
    As soon as the bull was secured in the chute, Cam came to me, patted me on the head.
    “Brave girl, Halo.” Pride beamed from his smile. “That was a very good dog.”
    On the way home that day, we stopped at the corner ice cream cone stand. Cam got two cones. One for Hunter, one for me.
    Somehow, I doubted that Ray ever bought Slick an ice cream cone. Too bad. He deserved one.
    Instead, Slick got a cast on his front leg. Estelle did let him stay in the kitchen while he healed. She put a blanket down on the floor for him, too. If he was lucky, he might have gotten some of the scraps that accidentally fell on the floor. Knowing Estelle though, that probably never happened.
    But sleeping on a blanket inside ... Old Slick probably thought he’d died and gone to heaven.

chapter 3
    “O n a Sunday?” Steam curled upward from the mug of coffee Lise cupped between her hands. She crossed the kitchen and slid onto the chair across from Cam.
    It was barely light out. She was still in the old sweats she always wore to bed, her hair all rumpled and falling out of her lopsided ponytail. Cam was already dressed in his jeans, a clean white T-shirt, and a freshly washed hoodie.
    After I crunched away on the last piece of kibble in my bowl, I trotted to the table and flopped down underneath it. Cam’s leg was stretched out there, so I rested my chin on his foot and closed one eye, keeping the other eye trained on the floor next to Hunter’s chair.
    A wave of bile pushed up my throat. I swallowed it back. I’d eaten too fast — a habit developed from competing with my brother for food. Lise had learned to separate us because of it. Today was my turn inside. I reminded myself to take it more slowly the next time. Still, a heavy, sour feeling sucked at my gut, filling me with a strange unease. Maybe it was the way Lise was forcing her breath out through pinched nostrils or the fact that Cam seemed anxious to be on his way, but a cloud of dread hung suspended in the room.
    Nauseous and drenched, my day had not started well. My fur was still damp from sitting out in the rain. An hour ago, Cam had taken me