by Elena Aitken
Applewhite Farms was the Christmas destination in Wishful. Not only did they supply most of the fresh Christmas trees in town, they also knew how to throw a serious holiday party. A band was set up at one end of the big barn and fat Christmas lights criss-crossed the space above them, combined with lots of greenery and ribbon to provide a festive air. A good hundred people milled through the building, rocking out to “Run, Run Rudolph” or hovering around one of the tables at the edges. A cash bar was set up in one corner, and a refreshment table took up another.
“Percy Gannaway! We haven’t seen you for a coon’s age!” Delia Watson’s voice boomed above the music.
If she hadn’t been holding his arm, Hannah wouldn’t have noticed the momentary tensing of his muscles as the Casserole Patrol wandered over.
“Evenin’, ladies.”
“And who is this handsome young man?” Maudie Bell asked, giving Ryan the once over.
“My nephew, Sergeant Ryan Malone.” He made introductions.
Ryan inclined his head, with a very proper “Ma’am” for each of them. A trio of identical blushes stained their cheeks.
“I drove by your house the other day. It looks amazing,” Maudie Bell gushed. “It’s good to see you getting back into the Christmas spirit.”
Percy jerked his shoulders. “Seemed like it was time.”
“Hannah’s work?” Delia asked.
“Yes, ma’am,” Hannah confirmed.
Maudie Bell swatted Betty on the arm. “You were absolutely right to send her over there.”
Percy shot a surprised glance in Betty’s direction. “This was your idea?”
Betty shrugged, a hotter blush staining her cheeks. “I thought you’d enjoy it.”
Definite crush.
“Well.” He stopped there until Hannah nudged him in the ribs. “Thank you.”
Chester Harkin, Maudie Bell’s live-in beau, walked up with drinks in hand. “Percy.”
“Chester.”
“House looks great. You’re giving my Maudie Bell ideas.”
Maudie Bell practically cackled. “I had ideas well before now. But I think I will have Hannah come by to spruce things up before the kids come.”
“I’d be happy to,” Hannah said.
Ryan slipped his hand in hers. “If you’ll excuse us, I think we’re going to go dance.”
Percy waved them off. “Go, go. Have fun.”
As Ryan towed her away, Percy asked the others, “Y’all doing okay?”
“Can’t complain, can’t complain. When are you gonna come down to the senior center for bingo night?” Delia demanded.
“Oh, leave the man alone,” Betty insisted. “You know he hates bingo.”
The rest of their conversation got swallowed up by the music.
The band shifted into a rendition of “Let It Snow”. As Ryan pulled her into his arms, Hannah’s gaze lingered on Percy.
“Relax, he’s fine,” Ryan murmured.
“But what if he needs a rescue?”
“We made him come out tonight so he’d socialize. You have to give him a chance to do that.”
She bit her lip. “I know. It’s just…I’ve gotten attached to him over the past few days. What if this is too much for him?”
“These are his lifelong friends. He’s okay. See, he’s asked Betty to dance.” Ryan circled them so she had a clear view of Percy leading Betty onto the floor.
“He seems to have taken her gesture well. You think he’s ready to think about maybe dating again?”
“Your guess is as good as mine. He about ripped me a new one when I brought it up the other day. But enough about Percy, for now. I’m more interested in you.” Ryan lost some of that sober expression that seemed to be his default, a smile crinkling the corners of his eyes as he pulled her closer.
“Well, that’s sure nice to hear.” She snuggled in, reveling the press of his body against hers.
As they swayed to the music, everything else faded to the background, until she couldn’t think of anything but him. His big, broad hand splayed against the small of her back, fingers kneading slightly, as if he wished he were touching skin. She found herself mimicking the motion against the back of his neck and enjoyed watching his pupils spring wide. Knowing she affected him was as heady and intoxicating as her grandmother’s eggnog.
“How do you feel about traditions?” he asked.
“Generally a big fan. Why?”
“Because we’re standing under mistletoe.”
She glanced up and spotted the kissing ball dangling over their heads. “It’s bad luck not to kiss under mistletoe.”
“Can’t be having any of that,” he murmured, his eyes full of affection and heat.
“Definitely not,” she agreed, already breathless.
His mouth brushed over hers, and she sighed, melting into him. This was dangerous. Oh, so dangerous. It could become an addiction. He could become an addiction. But she couldn’t make herself pull back, couldn’t make herself look beyond what he made her feel in the moment.
By the time he eased back, resting his brow against hers, the song had changed.
“You’re exceptionally good at that, Sergeant.”
Ryan huffed a laugh and brushed a kiss to her temple before resting his cheek there with a sigh she hoped was contentment.
“I have a question.” His voice was a delicious rumble.
Please let it be when can we get out of here. “I expect I can probably come up with an answer.”
“Your year ban on driving was up a couple months ago. Have you driven at all since then?”
All her relaxed arousal evaporated in an instant. She didn’t want to talk about this, didn’t want one more person she had to defend her actions to. Sucking in a breath, she put some distance between them. “Why?”
“Just curious.”
Given what she’d told him on their date, of course he’d wondered. And of course he’d asked. There was no reason to treat the topic like it was a state secret, and nothing in his expression suggested he thought she was crazy or stupid or any of the other things she’d felt herself over the past two months as she’d wrestled with it.
“No, I haven’t driven.”
“Why?”
Carolanne had been circling around this question in her unobtrusive therapist way for weeks. Something about Ryan’s directness compelled her to answer honestly.
“I’m actually terrified to drive.” She winced at the admission. “That must sound incredibly stupid to someone in your profession.”
“There are all kinds of fears, none of them stupid to the person who has them.”
“That’s kind of you to say.”
“Not kindness. Just the truth. Is it that you’re afraid of having another seizure?”
A rational conclusion, but not the right one. “I’m afraid of hurting somebody else. It was a minor miracle nobody but me was hurt or killed last time. No one’s that lucky twice.”
“Is that why you’re staying in Wishful?”
“Partly.” No reason to deny it. The small town meant less opportunity for disaster. “But beyond that, I like Wishful. I like the pace and the people here. And I’ve decided to apply to the small business incubator to see if I can start my own firm.” It was the first time she’d admitted it aloud since she’d made the decision. She hadn’t been able to bring herself to tell Carolanne. Somehow Ryan was an easier audience. He wasn’t invested in the outcome.
Interest lit his dark eyes. “Yeah? How’s that work?”
“Basically it’s like a little business nest. Lots of little start ups in one place, sharing overhead and workspace and resources. And there’s a mentorship component that really appeals to me. I understand the design aspect of my work without problem. I don’t need leadership there. But the business side is a whole other story. This feels like the best of both worlds. I can do things on my terms. That appeals to me a lot more than going back to a big city firm with all the backbiting and competition.”
“That makes sense. But surely your future client-base would go beyond here. Won’t you need to drive for that?”
The question was all practicality, so she fought not to bristle, but she really wanted him to drop the issue. “Yes. And I’ll get there. I’m just…not ready yet.”
She waited for him to argue with her or offer to drive with her to get her over the hump, but he simply nodded, accepting. Something in her relaxed. He wasn’t going to push or judge. And why should he? This thing between them was temporary. Whether she drove or not didn’t affect him long-term. If that gave her more than a little pang, Hannah ignored it. She just wanted to focus on the right here and now.
The music came to an end and they broke apart, applauding.
“Holy shit,” Ryan murmured.
“What?” Hannah followed his gaze to see Percy and Betty caught under one of the many mistletoe kissing balls hanging around the space. “Oh man, how’s he going to get out of this?”
“Looks like he’s not.”
As they watched, Percy bent and pressed a light kiss to Betty’s lips. It wasn’t lengthy or particularly demonstrative, and he pulled back almost immediately, stunned surprise lighting his face. But he didn’t let her go or walk away.
“Well,” Ryan said. “This is gonna be interesting.”
“If the military ever decides to go with a softer touch, they could learn a thing or two from you.”
Hannah just shot Ryan a secretive smile as they followed Brooke Redding, director of the Wishful Animal Rescue, down the central aisle between kennels as dogs barked, bayed, and whined from all sides. He had no idea how she’d managed to convince Percy to volunteer for dog walking duty, and he’d been standing right there. It was something to do with those big blue eyes and the dimples. He wasn’t exactly immune to that combination himself. Either way, this latest scheme to help him covertly assess Percy’s physical health was a good one.
“—so appreciate y’all coming down. We’re always in need of something down here. Volunteers, supplies, donations. With the holiday season and winter finally getting started, we’re even shorter than usual on all of the above,” Brooke explained. “I’m trying to do a big push to clear out most of the animals before the real cold hits. We aren’t equipped for any serious winter weather.”
Most of the facilities were outside, under aluminum awnings. Rather than proper walls, a series of tarps were stretched to help block the wind. It wasn’t a bad setup for mild weather, but if they had a freak cold snap below freezing, the rigged space would be seriously problematic. They needed a real building.
“I’ve been running an adoption special to try to encourage people to gift a shelter animal for Christmas,” Brooke continued. “Several of our puppies and kittens have been picked up from that promotion, but that leaves our older animals.”
“Poor babies,” Hannah cooed. “Who’s in need of some love?”
Ryan considered raising his hand.
Brooke stopped in front of a kennel where a mutt that had to be mostly shepherd lay on a raised bed in the corner. “This is Duke.”
He didn’t even lift his head.
“He was surrendered this summer after his owner passed. Her kids didn’t want to take him, so they brought him here. He’s older. About nine years, so people keep skipping over him for younger dogs. Poor guy’s just gotten more and more depressed.”
That was a familiar story. Ryan glanced at Percy to see if the tale upset him at all. His uncle’s face was full of disgust rather than discomfort. He definitely eyed the animal with sympathy.
“Well no wonder.” Hannah crouched in front of the chainlink, curling her fingers through the wire. “Hey Duke. Hey buddy. You want some exercise?” she crooned.
His ears twitched.
“How is he on lead?” she asked.
“A perfect gentleman,” Brooke said. “He’s really well trained, fully housebroken. He just doesn’t get on in a household with multiple pets, so that’s also made him harder to place. Either way, some exercise would do him good.”
“How about it, Percy? You want to take this guy around the yard a bit?”
“I expect so.”
Brooke opened the gate and moved inside to slip on a leash and collar. She made clucking noises. “C’mon, Duke.”
With a fair amount of grumbling that reminded Ryan of Percy himself, the dog rose and stretched before plodding obediently out of the kennel. When Brooke handed over the leash, Duke sat with a sigh and eyed Percy as if to say, “So you’re the next in the line of disappointments, huh?” Percy let the dog sniff his hand before giving him a scratch behind the ears. “Reckon we could both do with a little exercise. Let’s go.”
Duke rose to his feet and followed Percy out the gate at the end of the corridor and into the exercise yard.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Ryan muttered to Hannah.
“Just give it a little time. Those two have more than a little in common.”
“That did not escape my notice.” He pinned Hannah with a Look. “What are you up to?”
Her face was all innocence. “I told you. Getting him some exercise and helping you evaluate him.”
He might have believed her if she and Brooke hadn’t exchanged some kind of secret glance. “You’re hoping he falls in love and takes him home.”
Brooke pressed her lips together, eyes sparkling. “I’m just gonna let you two discuss. There are leashes on the wall over there. Grab whoever you want for a walk.”
As soon as she walked away, Hannah turned toward him, hands on hips, brows up. “And what if I am?”
“That’s a terrible idea. If he ends up needing to go into assisted living, where would that leave an animal? That poor dog has been through enough.”
“I get your concerns. Really, I do. But think about it. Percy let himself decline after Janie died because he no longer had anybody to take care of, and so he didn’t have any impetus to take care of himself. If he got a dog, he’d have another creature depending on him again. One that would require regular exercise and attention, both of which would do Percy good himself. Dogs are a lot of company, and I think he needs that.”
“And if he adopts an older one like Duke and then outlives the dog? What then?” Losing Janie had gutted Percy. If he opened himself up again, let himself get attached, and then lost the dog, would it make him shut down again?
She angled her head, and those big, blue eyes seemed to look into him. “Did you have a dog growing up?”
“Trixie. Big old sloppy black lab. She died when I was a sophomore in college. Made it to sixteen. Broke my heart.” He was man enough to admit that.
“Did you ever get another dog?”
“No. I knew I was going into the Army when I finished school. Didn’t make sense to get another one for that short stint.”
“So you haven’t connected with any other dog since then?”
Ryan shrugged. “It wasn’t practical. We’ve got some technically illegal dogs on base that we all share responsibility for, but I haven’t had my own dog since I was a kid.” He hadn’t been willing to risk it.
“I think it scares you.”
The accusation had his head kicking back. “Excuse me?”
“The idea of letting yourself get attached to something like that again, knowing you’ll eventually lose it—that scares you. You think it’s easier to avoid attachment in the first place.”
Were they still talking about dogs? Or had this gone on into something else?
“I deal with loss on an almost daily basis.” And if he’d had to learn to shut down the part of himself that cared, well, that was a matter of survival.
“Dealing with it isn’t the same as not being afraid of it. Loss sucks. Grief sucks. But it’s a part of life. And I don’t think it overshadows the payoff of the attachment in the first place.” Hannah curled her hands in his, her expression full of such warmth and understanding, he almost wanted to take a step back. Because that part he’d worked so d
amned hard to shut down had been stirring back to life since she’d walked into his.
“Sorry I’m late!”
He lifted his head to find Miss Betty hurrying down the corridor. “Late?”
Hannah released him and approached the older woman with a smile. “I’ll just get Coco on a leash for you.”
“Coco?” Ryan asked.
“Oh yes, Coco and I have a regular walking date three times a week,” Miss Betty informed him.
“And how do you know Coco?” he asked, as Hannah disappeared into one of the other kennels with a leash.
“I might volunteer down here on a regular basis,” she called back.
“Uh huh.” He watched as she led some little poodle mix out and handed it over to Miss Betty.
“Percy’s already out in the yard with Duke. They might appreciate some company.”
Miss Betty beamed and hurried on outside with her charge.
Ryan stared after her, then turned to Hannah. “You are a sneaky, sneaky woman.”
“Well, he did kiss her at the dance.”
“I can’t decide if you’re brilliant or terrifying.”
She grinned. “I can be both. Now pick your pooch. We’re here to work while we matchmake.”
In honor of Trixie, Ryan leashed up a young lab mix aptly dubbed Pogo. The dog did more bouncing than walking as they made their way out to the yard with Hannah and her chosen companion, a border collie mix named Dolly. They spent twenty minutes walking and chatting, working with the dogs on their leash manners. Brooke wandered out with a tennis ball and suggested some off-leash time. Pogo trembled with excitement at the sight of it and Dolly bowed, butt wagging.
“How can you say no to those faces?” Hannah asked.
Across the fenced yard, Percy sat on a bench beside Miss Betty. Coco curled up in her lap and Duke stretched out at their feet, not remotely enticed by the idea of a game.
Ryan unclipped the leash from Pogo’s collar, pausing to give the dog a full body rubdown. “Wanna play? Huh? You want the ball?”
Pogo barked, leaping up to slobber a cheerful kiss across Ryan’s face.
He wiped it with his sleeve. “I’ll take that as a yes.”