His expression was sympathetic. “About your plans?”
She nodded. “I know they were just trying to show interest, but it’s hard to sound on top of your game when you’re basically unemployed and recently dumped.”
Cole’s expression turned thoughtful. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You told me that you’re taking a break. Recalibrating your course. I think that’s wise. You’ll end up in a happier place in the long run.”
“I know. But I’m getting impatient to fill in the blanks. Maybe it’s the New Year coming? It seems like the right time to know the answers. Does that make any sense?”
“Sure it does. Don’t worry. You’ll figure it out.” He moved closer and put his arm around her. “You’ve just scored a big win for a client, on a case that’s meaningful to you. That counts for a lot and could take you in a whole new direction.”
Lauren rested her head on his shoulder. She didn’t mean to unload about her problems on such a special night, but he was being so sweet, so comforting and encouraging. And she’d had no one to confide in and lay bare her vulnerability to this way. That was rare, too.
“Thanks for listening. I don’t mean to bore you. But Maddie Belkin’s situation did make me stop and think. I even applied for a position at a firm that specializes in defending women’s rights.”
He didn’t answer right away. Then he said, “I had a feeling you’d say that sooner or later. Good for you. Find your bliss, as they say.”
He was saying all the right things. Why did she feel a sudden tension between them? She lifted her head and tried to keep her voice light. “I might not even get it. I’m competing with people who are really experienced in this area.”
“Don’t count yourself out. Where’s this job? In New York?”
She nodded and looked away, her gaze resting on the Christmas tree.
“So, you’re still planning on going back?”
Lauren nodded again, not sure she trusted herself to speak. This was the part of the conversation she didn’t want to have.
He kept his arm around her but pulled back a bit. “I never thought I’d being saying this to a woman again. Not for a long time. But I have a lot of feelings for you, Lauren. And now I don’t know what to do about it. I know my wife never wanted me to be alone. And she wanted Phoebe to have a woman in her life. But if you’re going back to New York, it’s really hard to go forward. You and me, I mean. That is, if you feel the same?” he added quickly.
His expression was so hopeful and open, it filled her heart. She touched his cheek. “Since you asked, I do feel the same. I definitely do.” Her quiet tone belied her high emotions.
He covered her hand with his own, then pressed her palm to his lips and sighed. “Where does that leave us, if you go back to New York? I don’t see how it will work out. These long-distance things are so hard. And it’s not just me,” he added. “I have to think of Phoebe. I can’t see her hurt and disappointed again by another loss. I see how great you are with her and how much she already loves you.”
“I love her, too,” Lauren admitted.
“That’s just it. If you left tomorrow, it would be hard enough for her. What about two weeks or four weeks or ten weeks from now?” He shook his head with dismay. “I can’t put her through that. She’s made amazing progress here. Partly due to you, these last few weeks,” he admitted. “I don’t want to risk all that. I have to protect her.”
“I understand. I wouldn’t hurt her for the world. Or you,” she added.
Her heart filled with a heavy sadness. She knew that what Cole said was true. Did it make any sense for them to get more involved than they were already if she was moving back to New York soon? It would be hard enough to leave Cole, no less Phoebe.
He didn’t answer but met her gaze with a somber expression, as if he’d been holding out some slim hope that she’d change her mind and say that she would stay. But she couldn’t do that. She’d been all through this with Joe. She couldn’t stay here to be with him or to work at his firm. Was the answer to the question so different with Cole?
“I’m confused . . . I’m sorry,” she said, suddenly feeling as if she might cry.
He rested his hand on her shoulder, then stroked her hair. “Hey, we don’t have to talk about this now. I’m sorry for bringing it all up tonight. Everything was so perfect. What an idiot I am.”
“Not at all. We needed to talk about it.” She sat up and whisked her fingers under her eyes. “But we do have a little bit of Christmas Eve left,” she reminded him. “So what about these presents, Santa? Is everything put together and wrapped?”
Cole grinned, looking grateful for the reminder. “Let’s see . . . the toy store wrapped the LEGOs. And the boots are in a big bag with a bow on it. That will be fine.”
“What about the two-wheeler with the tassels on the handles? And the bell and the basket for Wilbur? Does it need any putting together?”
He slapped his hand to his forehead. “The box is still in the barn. Do you know anything about that stuff? I’m a disaster at following those diagrams.”
Lauren just happened to be a whiz at putting together items that came in a million pieces with directions in four languages, amazing her many roommates over the years, and even her family.
“You’re in luck. We reindeer hang around the workshop so much, we pick up a trick or two.”
“I should have known.” He smiled and gazed into her eyes, then leaned over and kissed her. The sensation was so sweet and full of longing, Lauren felt her breath stolen away. She never wanted it to end.
A snuffling, grunting sound broke the spell. She pulled back, and Cole did, too. Wilbur had wandered downstairs for a late-night snack and found the dish of cookies Phoebe had set out for Santa. He was on his hind legs, about to tip over a lamp table.
Cole jumped up and scooted him away. “Wilbur. That is not for you.”
Lauren laughed at the sight. Whatever else she might say about this night, it had to be the most memorable Christmas Eve of her life.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Lillian had not slept well. She blamed Molly Willoughby’s cooking, though she knew her tossing and turning and bad dreams had more to do with her worries about Ezra. When she woke up, his side of the bed was empty, the covers tossed aside.
She pulled on her robe and found her slippers, then headed downstairs. It was Christmas morning. She’d almost forgotten. He was probably sitting by their tiny tree, waiting to unwrap the gifts they exchanged. He was like a little boy about Christmas, though not this year. She hoped that some of his good cheer had returned during the night.
“Ezra? Merry Christmas,” she called through the foyer when the stair-chair came to a stop. She rose and made her way into the living room. “Ezra? Are you down here?”
She did smell coffee. That was an encouraging sign. Was he possibly in the kitchen and didn’t hear her? She hobbled through the dining room, listening for morning sounds—the clatter of dishes and cutlery. The swoosh of a newspaper page turning.
Nothing. A worrisome feeling began to take hold. In the kitchen, she found a cup, left half full on the counter.
And then she saw a note on the table. Ezra had remarkably legible handwriting for a doctor. Square, neat block letters. She picked up the sheet and read the short message.
Just had a promising call and “Left early, to find my dog,” as Emily Dickinson nearly said. I believe I know where he is and hope to bring him home very soon.
—Ezra
Lily knew the verse well, about a morning walk to the sea. “I started Early—Took my Dog—” Clever, Ezra. High marks for that at least. She saw a local map on the table as well, one of the many he owned now, with all sorts of colored lines intersecting and various spots circled and dated. She sat and pushed it aside.
As sick as he’d been last night, he’d forced himself out into the
cold for that dog. And on Christmas Day. He was lost to her. Totally and utterly lost.
She pulled her cell phone from the pocket of her robe and dialed Jessica. She imagined the family would be up and opening Christmas presents by now. She would be spoiling their morning. But what else could she do? Sit back and wait while Ezra froze to death? If he hasn’t already.
Jessica came on the line quickly. “Merry Christmas, Mother. How’s Ezra feeling? Well enough to come here later, I hope.”
“You’ll have to ask him yourself. If you can find him. He’s disappeared again. Hunting for that dog. I’m not even sure when he left. There’s a note on the table. It only says he got a call, and not even from whom, or where he was headed.”
“Did he really go out already?” Even Jessica could not believe the extent of it, obviously.
Lillian detested redundant questions. “Would I be calling like this if he was here? I know it’s Christmas morning and all that. But somebody needs to find him. You have multiple vehicles over there. And several able drivers.” Lillian could tally up three—Sam’s truck and a sporty car her grandson Darrell drove, and that ratty old van her daughter used to cart animals. All it was fit for, too. “I suggest an all-points alert, a real manhunt.”
“Do you have any idea at all where he went, Mother? I wouldn’t know where to start.”
“How would I know?” Lillian snapped. “He’s barely speaking to me lately, and I’m not a mind reader. Wherever stray dogs go,” she offered, though if anyone knew where that was, the infernal creature would have been found weeks ago. “Wait . . . he left a map. He’s been making calculations, like a treasure hunter,” she murmured, looking over the squiggly lines through her reading glasses. “He’s made a big X on Potter Orchard. I believe he’s marked the date, too. Twelve twenty-five.” Had she misread that chicken scratch just because she hoped it was true? “The orchard isn’t far from you. It’s as good a place as any to start.”
“I’ll leave right now. I’ll let you know if I find him.”
“When you find him, you mean,” Lillian corrected her.
She could not tolerate any other outcome. “You realize this is all your fault, Jessica. You should have settled that dog with responsible owners who could have controlled him. Kept him contained.”
“Teddy is not a criminal serving a life sentence. He’s a dog,” her daughter replied calmly. “I’d say if anyone’s to blame, it’s you, Mother. You could have simply agreed to keep him. You knew how much it meant to Ezra. Why was it so hard to bend a little and give that poor dog a home? And grant Ezra such a small request? He asks so little of you.”
Her daughter’s admonishment left her speechless. Finally, she replied, “Your opinion has been duly noted in the record.” Then she hung up.
The stinging reproach echoed in her mind. It was actually a failure of her imagination. That was the problem. How could someone possibly care so much about a dog? She just didn’t get it. If she had, it would never have come to this.
No help for that now. Life allowed for few, if any, do-overs. She’d learned that lesson long ago. She could only wait to see if her daughter found Ezra. Lost on Christmas morning, the same as that silly little hound.
Showered and dressed, Lillian roamed from room to room for what seemed like hours. She tried to read the newspapers. She tuned the radio to a program of famous choral groups singing Christmas music from the Baroque period, just as she and Ezra did every Christmas morning. But she quickly lost interest.
Finally, she heard activity at the side door. She hefted herself from an armchair and hobbled to the kitchen. She saw Ezra through the glass panes at the top of the door. Jessica stood behind him.
She felt weak with relief and also annoyed that no one had told her he was safe. “She found you. Thank heaven,” Lillian greeted him.
“I wasn’t lost. Not one bit. I was right about Teddy, too.” He turned and looked back at the dog, who stood beside Jessica, secured to a leash. Lillian caught the creature’s eye, and he wagged his tail furiously.
She looked away and tugged her cardigan around her. “Where was he?”
“At the orchard. It’s deserted there this time of year, and he must have found a supply of food and water. Sophie Potter’s dog was acting strangely the last few days, and she spotted a stray among the trees this morning.”
Lillian had no great love for Sophie, though the rest of the congregation seemed to idolize the woman. She was so folksy and huggy, still cooking and baking things. At her age. It was ridiculous.
Sophie had been born on the orchard, and she ran it by herself, long after the death of her husband, Gus—an accomplishment Lillian did admire. Several years ago, she had sold the many acres to a young couple, all but a small plot where her house stood. With some outside help and visits from her family, she still lived there alone. With a dog, it appeared. That figured.
Lillian glanced at her daughter. “Are you coming in? You’re letting all the heat out. I suppose you need to run home and prepare for your company?”
“I do. But we need to know what you’ve decided about Teddy.”
“I need to know,” Ezra clarified. His gaze was as stern as she’d ever seen it.
“Or what?” Lillian said, calling his bluff. Was Ezra going to leave her? Over this dog? The notion seemed crazy. Yet not beyond the range of possibility.
“Just tell me, Lillian. Yes or no. Will you agree to keep Teddy? He won’t come in the house otherwise. Though I’m not sure I will either, without him.”
Lillian felt as if she was riding in an elevator that suddenly skipped a few floors. She held on to the doorknob for support. Even Jessica seemed surprised by Ezra’s ultimatum.
Lillian gathered her wits and raised her chin. If she was going down in defeat, she would do it with some dignity.
“I have given the matter more thought. If you must keep this animal, I relent. But there will be ground rules. And no exceptions. No licking, for one thing. Especially me.”
“We can work on that. I’ve read a few training books. Jessica will help us sort it out.”
Ezra’s face glowed, as if someone had flipped a switch deep inside. Lillian stifled a sigh of relief. Not only had this confounded canine returned from out of the blue, but finally, so had her Ezra. Welcome back, she nearly said aloud. How I’ve missed you.
“Ground rules are not an unreasonable request,” Ezra went on in a cheerful tone. “Mutually agreed upon,” he clarified.
“Yes, yes. We’ll bring in the finest legal minds to hammer it out. Whatever the cost.”
“Very amusing, Lily. As usual.” Ezra smiled, his reply without a trace of sarcasm.
He took the leash from Jessica and gazed at the dog. “Welcome home, my little friend. I bet you’re ready for a splendid Christmas breakfast.”
Lillian nearly groaned aloud. She rolled her eyes and shot Jessica a quelling stare. Jessica kissed her on the cheek quickly, then hurried off to her van.
Lillian couldn’t really blame her daughter. Or even Ezra. This dog seemed fated to reside with them. Even she couldn’t fight it anymore.
With his usual Christmas spirit, her husband headed for the living room to check the gifts under the tree. The dog trotted after him, tail wagging. She was about to remind Ezra of the rules, but she didn’t have the heart, or the energy.
It appeared she would have to tolerate Teddy in the living room this morning. But only until she and Ezra were back to their usual routine, she promised herself. Though even she could not deny that all of her declarations and objections about this dog had so far been brushed to the wayside.
“What cannot be cured, must be endured,” her mother used to say. In this case, fed, walked, and spoiled. All in all, it seemed a fair bargain for Ezra’s return, she decided. The real Ezra. An unexpected but longed-for gift, delivered to her this morning.
CHAPTER
EIGHTEEN
On Christmas morning, Lauren’s family was so busy tearing open presents—and squealing or shouting with delight—that she was able to avoid most of the questions about why she’d missed the Christmas Eve party. Most, but not all. Her sisters Amanda and Jillian finally cornered her in her bedroom as she dressed for the gathering at Jessica and Sam’s house.
“So, it was that tall, dark, and cranky guy with the runaway animals? You said he was a jerk,” Jillian reminded her.
Had she really said that about Cole? A handsome jerk, maybe. “He was a pain when we first met. But once I got to know him . . .” She paused. “I definitely had the wrong idea about him. Obviously, he’s not a jerk if I spent Christmas Eve with him and his little girl.”
“This is the guy with the baby pig, right? Mom met him,” Amanda reported. “She definitely approves. And not just because he’s such a hunk.”
Lauren felt herself blush, but she couldn’t deny it. Cole was handsome in anyone’s book.
“Wait a second.” Jillian seemed confused. “He’s a hunk with a baby pig? I totally get it now.”
“And an adorable daughter.” Amanda flopped onto Lauren’s bed and paged through a magazine. “Mom said she’s cute as a button.”
“Her name is Phoebe, and she’s cuter than an entire box of buttons.” Lauren was brushing out her hair. She turned to Amanda. “What else did Mom say? She only met him for, like, thirty seconds.”
Amanda peered at Jillian, and they shared a secret smile. Lauren guessed her romantic life been discussed at the party last night during her absence. She should have known that was going to happen. But it was still annoying.
“On second thought, I don’t want to know.”
“Amanda?” Gabriel, Amanda’s husband, called from the hallway. “Did you see that new sweater you bought me? I wanted to wear it.”
Amanda set the magazine aside and rose from the bed. “He thinks I have a tracking device for his belongings hidden in my body somewhere,” she whispered with a grin.
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