Max had heard it, too. And dogs didn’t know anything about miracles, did they?

Luke walked toward a dark spot in the snow and thought about Maxine’s determination to rescue both Kate and him at the expense of his own life. If the fact was that Maxine had shown up at the pound just hours before they’d taken Kate over to pick out a dog, or that a five-year-old had seen something in the mangy old mutt that none of the adults had, was that the beginning of a miracle, or merely a string of sequential coincidences?

But then, did it matter what it was, as long as everything had turned out okay?

Well, except for Maxine.

Luke stopped suddenly and stared down at what looked like Roger AuClair’s large pointed hat lying in the snow. Where in hell had that come from? Had it been in the sled all this time, and he just hadn’t noticed? If Camry had found it, she certainly wouldn’t have shown it to him, now, would she? Not after learning what he thought of AuClair’s hocus-pocus.

Which she wholeheartedly embraced.

Maybe the question he should be asking was, If the magic really did rule science, could it be manipulated?

Even by a nonbeliever who was just desperate enough to try?

Luke looked around and saw Max and Tigger digging in the snow several yards away, apparently having discovered something worth salvaging. He looked at Camry and saw her lying quietly, her arm over her face to shield out the sun.

“How are you doing over there?” he called to her.

“I’m fine,” she called back, not moving, “as long as I don’t move.”

Luke dropped his gaze to the hat, took a deep breath, and picked it up.

Something fell out of it. He bent over again, and picked up what appeared to be the card Roger had left for him. He opened it, scanned what Camry had already read to him, then continued from where she’d left off.

If you’re harboring any dark thoughts that I had anything to do with the predicament you’re in, Renoir, then think again. Free will dictates circumstances, not the magic. Life is a fragile gift, and if you can’t embrace it all—the good, the bad, and the ugly—then you might as well stop breathing, since this is an all or nothing thing.

So the answer to your question is yes; just like your numbers, the magic can be manipulated. I was telling it straight the other day, when I told Camry that everyone has the power within them to create.

That is, assuming it’s a creation of the heart.

The only brick walls people run into are of their own making. Take this particular brick wall, for instance, that you are right now trying to figure a way around. If I might be so bold as to suggest . . . why don’t you take your own advice that you gave Camry, and simply go through it? You have the power to do that by merely turning off your analytical brain long enough to hear what your heart is telling you. I believe you’ll find that when you do, what you consider obstacles might actually work to your advantage.

If you need more time, then stop the clock. And if you want to ease Camry’s pain, then find a way. It’s a simple matter of deciding what you need to happen, then acting as if it already has.

Miracles are really more about perception than actual fact. If all you see are obstacles, you’ll be taking two steps back for every step forward; but if you can see the magic in them, you’ll realize those obstacles might be blessings in disguise.

So the choice is yours, Renoir. Your logic can take you only so far, and if you want to get Camry home, you’re going to have to rely on what your heart tells you to do. Just think back thirteen years, Luke, and ask yourself if you haven’t already experienced what it is to create a miracle.

I’m afraid there’s one other decision you’re going to have to make before this is over, however, which will require a true leap of faith. But I’m hoping that by the time you have to make it, it will be a no-brainer—no pun intended, Doctor.

You see, Camry has an aunt who can heal her in a rather . . . well, let’s call it an unconventional way, shall we? Libby MacBain will be at Gù Brath celebrating the solstice with everyone, so you might want to consider heading directly there, rather than wasting precious time trying to get Camry to a hospital and risk her never walking properly again.

“Goddammit, AuClair,” Luke growled, glaring down at the card. “You almost had me up to this point, you old bastard. An aunt who can magically heal her ankle,” he muttered, wiping a hand over his face.

“Did you find the first-aid kit, Luke?” Camry called to him. “One of those pills would be nice right about now.”

Christ, what was he doing, reading some crazy old man’s rantings! He crumpled the card and tossed it in the snow, along with Roger’s stupid hat. “I think Max and Tigger have dug something up,” he called out, running to the dogs. “What have you two found?” he asked, using his anger at himself to sound excited for them.

He edged Tigger out of the way, reached down into the shallow hole, and gave a tug on the material they’d unearthed. “Camry, they found our bag of gear!” He scrambled to his feet. “Okay, guys,” he said, slapping his leg. “Come on. Now let’s go find my other snowshoe!”

He walked over and knelt beside Camry, then picked up the snowshoe Max had found earlier and held it out to the dogs, letting them sniff it. “See this? Find the other snowshoe, and I’ll make you each a whole pot of soup tonight.”

They cocked their heads back and forth, listening to him, then both suddenly shot off in opposite directions. Luke smiled down at Camry. “If they come back with that snowshoe, I’m going to have to stop calling them simple beasts.” He opened the bag and dug through their gear to find the first-aid kit. “Have you figured out yet if you’re hurt anywhere else?” he asked, opening the kit and scanning the contents. He grew alarmed when she didn’t answer. “What else hurts?”

“I think I may have cracked some ribs,” she whispered, her eyes filled with pain. “I can breathe okay, so my lung isn’t punctured or anything. But what if riding in the sled finishes breaking one of my ribs?”

Luke closed his eyes.

She touched his arm. “Maybe you should go for help alone. You can move me to the trees, build a fire, and the dogs can stay with me. You’ll make better time if you don’t have to tow me in the sled. Then Life Flight can fly me out.”

“I’m not leaving you. If something were to happen to me, nobody knows you’re out here.”

“Daddy knows. We stole his groomer, remember?”

“But it might be days before he starts looking for us.” He shook his head. “I’m not leaving you,” he repeated. “We make it out together or we die trying—together.”

He returned to scanning the kit, then pulled out the pills. “These should help,” he said, opening the bottle. He pulled out one of the bottles of water they’d melted this morning, popped a pill in her mouth, then held her head for her to drink. “Okay, I’m going to dig out the sled while we give that pill time to kick in.”

“Luke,” she said, grabbing his sleeve when he started to stand up. “What were you doing a few minutes ago, when you were just standing up there? It looked as if you were reading something.”

“I found AuClair’s card, and was reading from where you’d left off.”

“Anything interesting?” she asked, her eyes searching his.

He stood up. “Not really. Just more philosophical bunk about how I can make a miracle happen just by deciding I want one.” He shrugged. “He even said I have the power to stop time, if I just put my mind to it. No, not my mind,” he muttered, sliding into the hole beside her. He gave a forced smile. “He said I had to turn off my analytical brain, and think with my heart. Close your eyes, Camry,” he said, not wanting to deal with the hopefulness he saw shining in them. “Relax and let that pill work.”