Carefully, Thomas—the same driver who had stopped the train—removed his gloves and crouched beside them. “It’s okay, little one,” he said softly.
The bigger pup flinched but didn’t run. When Thomas slid his hands beneath both bodies, it gave a faint whine but stayed still—still shielding the smaller pup even as he lifted them both together.
“We’ve got them!” someone yelled as the group cheered. Mud and oil streaked Thomas’s arms, but he didn’t care.
As he carried them toward the station office, the bigger pup finally relaxed, eyes closing as if it could rest for the first time.
