Melvin’s POV
“Look!” Clinty grinned up at me, holding his tiny fist out proudly. I glanced over from where I was stacking the firewood I’d chopped, adding it to the growing pile by the shed. Yard work would be minimal until winter eased up, and our small garden had long since died under the frost, but Clinty still managed to get himself thoroughly coated in dirt.
When he opened his hand, I yelped and jumped back. Clinty erupted into laughter, utterly delighted by my reaction.
“No, no playing with bugs,” I scolded, reaching toward him before thinking better of it. “Put it down.”
“I found it!” he pouted, clenching his fist around a fuzzy brown wood spider. He was gripping it so tightly I wondered if it was still alive.
“Let it go,” I said, my voice dropping an octave as I leveled my ga
