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It had been months since Ellie had looked him in the eye when he glanced through his kitchen window on the wrong side of dawn one morning to see her trampling around in the grass with some squirmy little thing twisting between her ankles before shooting off to circle the yard, a black and white blur, before coming back to her side. Joel hears her, muffled through the glass.
“Dude, go piss.”
She’s in an old tank top and shorts, barefoot in the grass, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as the puppy circles, lanky and loping across the yard. Every time he catches sight of her he can’t help but watch. He gets his second-hand reports from Tommy and Maria. From Jesse, on occasion. It’s not the same as seeing for himself that she’s alright. Ellie’s got a good bit of muscle on her, but she’s not too lean. She doesn’t look beat like he knows he must.
The puppy drops into a play bow, tail wagging excitedly and she rolls her eyes. “Go piss or we’re going back to bed.”
He watches as she herds it around the yard, or tries too. Wants to go tell her to stop chasing it so it’ll quit running. But he’s worried more than anything that any step he takes out of line will have her out of sight completely. Like if he makes himself too known she’ll find somewhere else to be for good.
She huffs, clearly defeated and waves at the door. The dog follows her point and runs up to the door, snout pushing through as she cracks it open. It closes behind her and the yellow glow in her window goes out.
He doesn’t know when she got it.
*
It’s nearly a week later the next time he sees it. He was still picking up extra chores, extra shifts, extra patrols, anything he could take to be out of the house, anything he could do to increase the chance of running by his kid without actually running her off. He’s passing through town when he sees the dog, close to her side. She’s got a neat leather collar on it and a matching strip of leather with one end tied around the collar and the other to her waist.
She stops and raises her hand, “Ranger, sit.”
Ranger does sit, for a moment, eyes on the bit of food in Ellie’s hand before he sees something more interesting and bolts straight to the end of his leash, giving Ellie a firm tug. “Dude.”
Joel forces himself to keep walking as she reels him back to her side. “Sit,” she says again, not seeing him at all as he continues to the other side of the street.
*
Tommy presses a cool glass into his hand in the heat of a lazy summer evening.
“She’s alright, Joel.” Tommy says, before he even sits. He knows the gambit by now. “Doing good with that damn dog. You know he ate half a cornbread off the counter a month ago and now she’s got him runnin’ errands for her?”
Joel takes a sip of his drink, leaning back. “She’s always been smart like that.”
Tommy huffs a laugh, “Ranger brought me her last patrol report. Waited on my front porch for a treat until I tossed him some jerky too.”
“Stubborn as she is, I bet.” Joel grumbles.
Tommy frowns, “Well hey now, don’t talk about my grand-nephew like that. He’s a damn good dog.”
*
He knows that anything he gets her for her birthday is liable to end up in the trash just as soon as she sees it, but he won’t let it pass either of them by. Two years ago he’d brought her to the museum. Last year he’d found the couple of comics he’d left for her kicked into the dirt next to her doorstep.
He was on a hunting rotation anyway and snagged a couple of hooves and a knee cap from the butcher, figuring he could still do something for her. He’d seen Ranger zipping back and forth across the yard, it’s not a longshot to think he might bother the hell out of her stuck inside during the rolling summer storms. He tosses them in the oven to bake and wraps them in some ratty old cloth. Joel convinces himself, the morning of her birthday, that not wanting them out attracting other animals is a plenty good excuse to knock on her door himself.
He raps his knuckles on the sturdy stained wood and is greeted by an excited bark.
“Quiet,” Ellie snaps, and Ranger goes silent. Her eyes are wide when she opens the door to see him, Ranger tensely settled on a flat pillow on the floor next to her desk, obediently sticking to his spot, for the moment.
“I – “ Joel stutters. He won’t say happy birthday. He can’t say anything he wants to. “I had these leftover, thought he might want ‘em.” He nods back to the dog which is apparently plenty enough permission for Ranger to come sauntering over, sniffing at his shoes and up his knee. He unwraps the fabric to show Ellie the haul, something he’s sure will buy her a fair few hours of peace.
Ellie narrows her eyes. She knows what he’s up to, but he knew that she would. “You just had these leftover?”
Joel huffs and tosses Ranger one of the hooves, he catches it swiftly and circles back to his pillow on the floor, holding it between his paws and gnawing at the edge of it, content. “Might wanna hide the rest.” He says, holding out the bundle.
She takes it, still suspicious. “Thanks, I guess.” She shifts awkwardly under his gaze and he’s so sure he wasn’t this dumb the last time around, lost for words in front of his daughter who was so clearly waiting for him to say anything at all. “Is that it?” She presses.
Joel nods quickly. “That’s it. I can – If you just let Jimmy know he can get you more. Just gotta bake ‘em for a few hours.”
Ellie inhales sharply, “Okay. Um. Bye.”
She doesn’t wait for him to leave before closing the door, but she doesn’t slam it. She didn’t yell or tell him to fuck off. She still took what he had to give her.
Joel turns back to the house with the edges worn off of that ache in his chest. He’ll take what he can get.