Anodyne and tatterdemalion

"Help me!"

"Adam? Adam, what on--"

"Help me," he pleaded again, pushing at the door open with his back. Jill squinted at the object in his arms; it looked like a dirty sack of flour. Then it whimpered.

"Oh my God." She rushed to help him, opening the door and ushering him into the kitchen. "Put it on the table."

Adam gingerly lay the poor creature in the middle of their dining table, shoving placemats and candlestick holders out of the way with his elbows. "I hit it with my car. I didn't see it. I've kept it as still as possible. It's not dead, right?"

He stepped aside as Jill moved in for a closer look. The poor thing couldn't have been more than a year old, she judged. Well, being young would help its odds of recovery. She began her examination.

Adam hovered around the table, watching anxiously as Jill lifted the pup's limbs one by one, pressed gently against its ribcage, and held open its eyes to examine its pupils. He bit his lip and wondered if he should offer to help, but he knew she would ask if she wanted something.

After working over the pup for a few more minutes, Jill stepped back and let out a deep breath. "She's lucky. Her back leg is bleeding and might be broken, but otherwise she seems fine. We can take her to the vet tomorrow."

Adam didn't speak, but he bent down to look into the puppy's eyes. With two big black patches on her face, she resembled a small panda, shivering and wet. He put a hand on her belly, careful not to apply any pressure. Jill was bandaging the wound on her back leg, and he could tell the pup was scared. He didn't say he was sorry, but he was sure she knew anyway. Even in her weakened state, she stretched her neck and licked his arm.

"She'll sleep on the couch," he said.

Jill tied off the bandage and nodded.

She helped him set up plush bedding for the puppy out of pillows and quilts, and then headed for the stairs. "Are you coming to bed?"

Adam shook his head. "I'll sleep here with her."

"You really shouldn't. If you accidentally move her in the night, she could suffer more damage."

"I didn't mean on the couch," he said. "I'll sleep on the floor."

Jill opened her mouth to argue with him but then, remembering the many times she'd slept in a stall with a sick or troubled horse, she thought better of it. "All right. Good night."

Adam didn't answer. He sat down on the floor next to the pup, who nestled into the makeshift bed and sighed. Jill went upstairs and gave them one last look before flicking off the lights.