30Becca slid the forge's barn doors open and Beau scooted in behind her. Walt sat at a natural pine and steel drafting table working on a drawing.
“Becca.” He nodded. “What brings you here to my cave?”
She looked at the dog. “Beau.”
“He does that all the time.” Walt smiled fondly. “He seems to think this is where everyone should be. And he is a cattle dog. Thousands of years of breeding mandate he should round up living things. And I think he likes it that there are more people around here now.”
“What do you mean?” Becca sat on a stool by windows that overlooked a river that was gray in the scant sunlight.
“Until five years ago, Beau and I were the only ones here.”
“You mean here at the forge?”
“No, here at the inn. It's all one property.” Walt shaded a section of the cow-and-calf d
