Our convoy of ATVs emerged from the woods as Jonah was landing, Marie sitting cross-legged in the trailer, cradling the animal’s head in her arms as best she could, a grim mask of determination on her pretty face. She never complained once through all of it. Not as the wagon hit bone-jarring bump after bump, not as the dog’s blood seeped through the gauze and blanket, staining her jeans, not even as Muriel attempted to instruct her about where she should put the tranquilizer, on how best to release the trap, and how tight to bandage the wounds. The woman who still secretly pines over Jonah
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