#promise!!!

"Shouldn't you be breaking in that new mustang?" Gil demands. Then he spots it. "What on Earth is that thing?"

There's a noisy clatter on the staircase—followed by Gillian's more staid footfall—and then his girls appear in the doorway, wearing near-identical looks of curiosity and worry.

"What is it, Mister Row—oh my goodness!"

Gillian gasps, her eyes going round as saucers. Maggie claps her hands together and lets out a breathless squeak.

"Oh, Mister Rowdy, you found a puppy?"

"Sure did!" Rowdy says happily. Clutched in his solid but gentle grasp, an impossibly small brown-and-white dog wriggles and yips plaintively. Its fluffy ears twitch as it blinks at them all with very large, very blue eyes.

Gil huffs and pinches the bridge of his nose. "And where exactly did you find that puppy?"

"Farmer Ibarra rode over, wanted to trade some supplies. He said his sheepdog had a litter a few days ago. He thought we might be interested. Well, I just knew the girls would love this little fella."

"Oh, we do, Mister Rowdy," says Gillian, softly approaching with almost breathless tentativeness. "Does… does he have a name?"

"Oh, can we name him?" begs Maggie. She's following her sister's lead, for once, hovering carefully a safe distance from the puppy. "Please, please, please?"

"Why, sure you can!" Rowdy says. The laugh-lines around his eyes deepen as he looks between the girls and the squirmy pup in his hands.

Gil clears his throat. Four sets of eyes shoot to him, wide and innocent.

"You sure you want to name 'im? You don't want to get too… attached," says Gil carefully. "We don't even know if we're going to keep him yet."

Instant, total horror. Maggie's jaw drops and her head swivels from him to Rowdy and back, aghast. Gillian bites her lip and stares at her feet, hands curling in her skirts. She's gone white the way she does when she's struggling not to cry.

Rowdy, meanwhile.

Rowdy looks at Gil as if Gil just declared that he'd like Rowdy to serve the puppy for dinner, with gravy on the side. It's a look that says if Gil wants another peaceful night in his own bed for the foreseeable future, he'd better tread very cautiously right now.

He sighs, backtracks. "We've got men who can raise and train the dog outside of the house, 's all I'm saying. Puppies are a lot of work. Rowdy and I are out most of the day, and Mrs. McGillicuddy is busy with lookin' after you girls and the house."

"Oh, Pa, we can look after him! We'll train him properly, promise!"

"Yes, Pa, we'll do our very best. Can't you give us one chance?"

"Come on, Gil, can't you see how much the girls want him?" Rowdy asks with a distressed scowl. "Besides, how much trouble can something so little be? Look how adorable he is!"

To emphasize his point, Rowdy shoves the pup in Gil's face. Big blue eyes gaze at him with credulous trust. A tiny pink tongue pokes out and the puppy ekes out a high-pitched yelp.

Rowdy widens his own puppy-dog eyes at Gil. A two-pronged attack. Gil sighs and purses his lips.

"Fine," he grunts. "You can keep it."

The sitting-room erupts in jubilant cheer. Ecstatic, Maggie throws her arms around Rowdy and the puppy. Two spots of color appear on Rowdy's cheeks as he clumsily returns her embrace, while valiantly trying not to let the puppy escape over his shoulder.

"Thank you, Pa," says Gillian, going up on tiptoe to peck him on the cheek.

"Mm. You're welcome." Gil hadn't realized until he had all three of them under one roof just how hard it would be to stay strong to their united front. The three people he loves, banding against him. Ain't that just the way.

Rowdy carefully scoops the puppy into Gillian's arms. He leaves the girls to coo and fuss over their fuzzy treasure and makes his way to Gil.

"You know I'll help the girls look after him, Gil," Rowdy says. "Can't be much harder than cattle and drovers."

Gil raises an eyebrow. "Take it from me, Rowdy. Puppies can be a handful." He slides a hand into Rowdy's thick tawny mop and ruffles his hair.

Rowdy grins, sways in to drop a kiss on Gil's mouth. "Thank you," he whispers, eyes going half-lidded as he gazes at Gil. "For lettin' me give them this. I just… I really want them to like me, you know? This is all still so new."

Gil darts a glance to where the girls are locked in a gleeful-but-furious debate over dog names. He slips the hand he had in Rowdy's hair to his nape instead. Draws him in for another kiss.

"Rowdy, those girls love you, puppies or no puppies," he says, quiet and firm. He then kisses Rowdy on the cheek because what else can you do, when somebody looks at you like that? Like you've given 'em a gift they were too afraid to hope for?