Rescuing Christmas

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Rescuing Christmas Page 16

by Vicki Lewis Thompson


  “My parents are dead. It’s in the past. And your family’s so damn perfect....” He shrugged.

  Perfect?

  She’d always believed he kept his distance because he disliked her father, and, to be fair, her father hadn’t been warm and fuzzy to his son-in-law, either. “My parents are divorced.”

  “Your dad may have taken a while to figure it out, but he and Julia are rock solid. So I’m sorry if I didn’t feel the need to trot out the details of my crazy cat-lady mother and head-in-the-sand father.”

  She flattened her hand to his chest. “But Alex, we’ve been married for almost eight years.”

  “Then I guess this is yet more proof of how bad I screwed up.” He nodded toward the Swensons and set aside his half-empty cup. “Looks like the dogs have warmed up to each other over there. You’ve made another match.”

  She checked over her shoulder at the older couple with their four dogs. Prince was wearing his new sweater and playing tug-of-war with the terrier.

  And there it was, her Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come...what could have been. What she and Alex could have had. She’d spent so many years blaming him for being absent. But she’d failed him when they were together. The story about the cats made her realize how very silent his childhood must have been, with a mother secluded in her room and a father escaping at work. Of course he wouldn’t know how to communicate.

  They’d left a preteen to sneak cats out of the home for sterilization in order to protect himself from being overrun by an out-of-control hoard. He’d been taking care of his mother—and his father—when they should have been looking out for him.

  Thinking over their marriage, she suddenly reevaluated the ways he’d taken care of her without words. All those floating marshmallows he’d thoughtfully, silently put in her cocoa made her want to cry.

  Her eyes burned and, oh, God, she was seconds away from embarrassing herself in front of her husband, not to mention the cameraman and the Swensons. Alex had seen enough tears and sadness in his life. Her hand slid away from the hard wall of his chest.

  She reached inside her parka, pulled out the envelope with the adoption papers and thrust them toward her husband. “Could you go over these with the Swensons? I need to take Daisy outside for a walk.”

  Before he could argue, she tugged the Labrador puppy from under the table and raced for the door, tears blinding her.

  CHAPTER SIX

  A FRIGID GUST OF AIR hit Shelby in the face, nearly freezing her tears on her cheeks. She charged down the steps, gasping in each bracing breath, her emotions shaky, her heart breaking all over again...just when she hoped she’d come to grips with divorcing Alex. Daisy yanked on the leash, trying to run toward the little boy and girl still building a lopsided snowman by their RV.

  At least she could bring happiness to Daisy.

  Giving the leggy puppy extra leash, Shelby picked her way across the salted sidewalk toward the kids. Barking, Daisy strained forward, darn near making the walk an ice skating expedition.

  “Okay, okay, I’m moving as fast as I can, girl.”

  Daisy pulled harder, barking louder. Shelby waved at the kids’ parents who were sitting under an awning attached to their RV, a portable fire pit crackling. “Is it okay if your kids pet the puppy?”

  The mother nodded quickly. “Anything to wear them out before we hit the road again tomorrow.”

  Shelby let Daisy lead her the rest of the way. “Calm down, girl. We’re gonna play. I promise.”

  Daisy surged forward just as Shelby’s boot came down on a patch of ice. Her feet shot out from under her. She landed hard. Pain shot up through her tailbone. Her teeth clacked closed and blood filled her mouth from where she must have bitten her tongue.

  Her head cleared and she realized—crap—Daisy had gotten free. The puppy was racing full out past the kids and toward the woods, red leash flapping behind her like the tail on a kite. Shelby struggled for breath, panic lancing through her. Sure the puppy was tagged and micro-chipped, but what if she got lost in the woods? Out in the cold?

  Shelby pushed to her feet, waving aside the parents and children who’d gathered around to help her. “Puppy,” she gasped. “I’ll get the puppy.”

  A gasp from the mother cut the air as she pointed in the direction of the woods. “Oh, my God!”

  Shelby tensed, watching apprehensively as Daisy slowed at the tree line. Deeper in the forest, just visible in the late-day fog, a coyote crouched low, growling—directly in Daisy’s path.

  * * *

  ALEX PASSED OVER THE last of the papers to the Swensons, wondering when the hell Shelby would come back inside. He could service a multimillion-dollar military aircraft, but completing this road trip without having a breakdown seemed impossible.

  What had possessed him to take that morbid journey down memory lane, spilling his guts about his crummy childhood to Shelby? He’d glossed over the worst of it for years. The past was the past, after all. Today, he’d out-Scrooged Scrooge.

  A scream from outside split the air.

  A familiar voice.

  Shelby.

  Instantly in combat mode, he plowed across the room, flinging open the door. Shelby was being restrained by some guy—a man seconds away from meeting Alex’s fist. A red haze of fury damn near blinded him. His boots pounded snow and ice, and with each stride he got a clearer picture of what was happening.

  The older guy wasn’t hurting Shelby. He was keeping her from launching forward. A couple of yards away, Daisy was moments away from being attacked by a coyote.

  The wild animal growled, fangs glinting. Shards of snow glistened in its silvery fur.

  Daisy held her ground between the feral animal and the cluster of onlookers. The mother slowly hustled her two children into the RV.

  Alex reached for Shelby, keeping his movements slow, his voice soft. “Shel, move into the RV. I’ve got this.”

  “I can’t just leave her.” Shelby pushed harder against the other man’s restraining arm.

  Like hell was he letting his wife tangle with a rabid beast. His heart thumping in his ears, he grasped her elbow just as the coyote leaped onto Daisy.

  He called to the guy holding Shelby back, “Don’t let her go.”

  On autopilot, Alex sprinted forward, grabbing the two lawn chairs from under the awning. Clanging them together and shouting, he advanced.

  Hoping the noise would startle the animal away.

  Planning to use the chair as a shield and weapon if it didn’t.

  Regardless, the coyote couldn’t be allowed to stay near a populated RV camp. And Daisy?

  The two animals snarled and yelped. Snow sprayed up from the scrabbling paws. Shouting louder, Alex bashed the chairs together again.

  The coyote raised his head. The animal made brief, icy eye contact. Then turned and sprinted away into the woods.

  Slowly, the world expanded beyond that patch of snow. He became aware of a screaming, terrified child being soothed by a parent. Doors slammed on RVs and the clubhouse.

  Shelby cried, “Let me go! Let me go!”

  Daisy whimpered, her blood staining the snow around her.

  Alex flung aside the chairs and stumbled the last two steps to the puppy. His earlier detachment was a helluva lot harder to find with his heart in his throat. The coyote had gone for Daisy’s neck. The fleshy wound looked bad. Really bad.

  “Okay, girl, it’s gonna be okay,” he said softly as he slid his arms under the puppy. Daisy’s chocolate eyes were filled with pain and pleading.

  He stood and found his wife already at his side, her teary eyes focused on the dog as she passed him her scarf to staunch the bleeding.

  “Shelby, check the GPS. Find an emergency vet clinic.”

  “Sergeant,” Mrs. Swenson called from the clubhou
se steps. “Skip’s got his fancy phone working on it now.”

  Skip held his Droid up, racing toward Shelby. “Already got one—thank God for 3G connections. Listing says it’s about twenty miles west. They’re open on weekends and holidays. Louise is writing down the name and address to put into your GPS. I’ll call ahead for you. We’ve got Prince. You just go.”

  “Shelby, you drive,” he clipped out orders, determined not to lose little Daisy. “I’ll hold the dog.”

  “I’ll hold her.” She held out her arms, tears streaking down her face.

  He cradled the injured puppy carefully, blood already soaking his parka. “She might bite you because she’s hurt. Don’t waste even a second arguing. Keys are in my front pocket.”

  “Okay, you’re right.” She dug for the keys and thumbed the unlock button.

  “Gene,” he snapped, “do you think you could put the camera down and type the location into the GPS?”

  “Oh, right.” Gene lowered the camera, his face so pale Alex worried the guy would pass out. The cameraman slid toward the SUV and opened the back door for Alex.

  Holding the bloody puppy, he couldn’t help but remember taking the injured cat to the vet as a kid. Scared as hell the animal wouldn’t make it. Frustrated that he couldn’t just fix things himself.

  The drive to the clinic passed in a blur as he resisted the urge to ask his wife to drive faster on the icy roads. Getting in a wreck would only make things worse for Daisy.

  She snuggled into his parka, calm now but occasionally making soft mewling sounds that tore at his gut. He tried to calm the animal—and hell, himself and Shelby, too—with soothing words as they made the endless journey.

  Finally they pulled into the parking lot of a pink brick building. Christmas lights blinked in ironic merriment. Shelby drove right up to the covered porch. Gene was already yanking open the back door.

  A sports car pulled into the nearest spot a second behind them. A short, wiry man in a tuxedo and long black overcoat stepped out. “I’m Dr. Marcus. The clinic called me in, said we had an emergency surgery patient arriving.”

  Already the vet’s eyes homed in on the puppy.

  His attention firmly on Daisy, Dr. Marcus called over his shoulder to the decked-out blonde in an evening gown still in the car. “Babe, you can wait in my office or go back to the party. I’m going to be a while.”

  * * *

  SHELBY COULDN’T REMEMBER when she’d been this numb and powerless. She watched the minutes tick by on the waiting room clock until an hour had passed with no word. Alex had taken off his bloody parka while she’d passed over Daisy’s vaccination records to the vet with shaking hands. Thank goodness Gene had been able to gather his nerves and park the SUV before he joined them inside. For once, he didn’t have the camera shoved in her face. Instead he filmed unobtrusively from a seat in the corner.

  She’d replayed that awful, awful moment in her mind at least a hundred times, always coming to the same heartbreaking conclusion. Daisy had been protecting those children, and she’d possibly sacrificed her life to do it.

  The wait was horrible, her stomach eaten by an acid worry and her third cup of coffee. A half hour ago, she’d managed to calm down enough to call Tansy, then Daisy’s adoptive family, but had only gotten answering machines. In a way, it had been a relief not to have to talk when her nerves were already frayed beyond bearing.

  She started to stand, ready to bother the receptionist again for more information, when the clinic door opened and the vet stepped out. His tuxedo was gone, replaced by scrubs stained with the rusty tinge of more blood.

  Her throat clogged with fresh tears.

  “Daisy made it through surgery,” Dr. Marcus announced without delay. “She’s still coming out of the anesthesia. Luckily, the injury wasn’t as severe as it appeared. And there’s no worry about rabies since she’s up to date on her vaccinations. We’ll keep her on IV antibiotics through the night. She should be ready for you to pick up in the morning.”

  Before Shelby was able to form a coherent thought and thank him, he slipped back into the clinic area.

  The receptionist shot her a wry smile from behind her tinsel-draped counter. “Dr. Marcus likes animals more than people. But I promise, your dog was in good hands during surgery and it will be a long while before he leaves her side. Not even his latest girlfriend and a black-tie dinner could tempt him away.”

  Alex’s arm slid around Shelby, a steadying presence that she desperately needed right now.

  Shelby asked, “Can we sit with her?”

  “In the morning. She’s out for the count now and will be sedated through the night. We have your number if there’s any change.”

  The receptionist’s attention was pulled away from them by a family rushing in with their Labradoodle.

  “Our dog found all the cooking chocolate and ate a whole bar—”

  The staff went into high gear again. Chocolate was especially toxic for dogs.

  Stepping away, Shelby sagged against Alex and she couldn’t miss the sigh racking his warm, solid body. She remembered other times her husband had been there to hold her, his strong arm fortifying her through one negative pregnancy test after another, supporting her after each miscarriage. Silently, Alex had offered an unconditional love that she’d absorbed through her pores rather than her ears.

  She didn’t even care that the camera was probably on them as she let her husband guide her to the Explorer. She just wanted to get back to the room and sleep away the night so she could see Daisy again with her own eyes, reassure herself that the fearless pup wouldn’t die before she had her chance to live her life loved and treasured in a home of her own.

  The ride to the hotel passed in a stream of holiday lights and the occasional group of carolers. She could hardly believe tomorrow would be Christmas Eve. Solemnly, they checked in to their rooms, Gene going his way and Alex leading her to theirs.

  Once inside the room, her energy evaporated and she sagged on the end of the bed. It was all she could do to shrug out of her coat and kick off her boots.

  Alex peeled his shirt off and threw it in the trash on his way to the shower. His broad shoulders hunched as if they carried the weight of the world. If she hadn’t pushed for this trip, right now they would be at their house with all three dogs safe and healthy.

  Her heart heavy, she pulled her cell phone out of her purse to check for messages, scrunching her toes in her thick wooly socks. The screen showed four missed calls. She tapped in the code to listen to her messages, staring at the glow of Christmas lights shining outside, even through the thick curtains.

  Tansy had called first, concerned, thanking her for getting Daisy help so quickly and telling her to call if she needed anything.

  Next, her stepmother, Julia, checking to be sure they were on schedule.

  The Bennetts...wishing them Merry Christmas, and reassuring her that their dogs were happy.

  And Daisy’s new family.

  Shelby straightened, listening closely, disbelieving what she heard.

  She hit Replay.

  Oh, God. Her hand fell to her lap with the phone. Stunned, she sat unmoving until Alex came out of the shower.

  One towel wrapped around his waist, he dried his hair with a second. “Everything okay?”

  “No,” she said simply, still processing and trying not to fall apart.

  He peered from under the towel. “What’s wrong? Is Daisy—?”

  “It wasn’t the clinic.” She swallowed down the bitter gall of disappointment. “The message was from Daisy’s so-called new family. They changed their minds.” Her voice cracked with emotion, her composure fracturing right along with it. “Someone was giving away puppies in a box outside their Christmas tree farm and they took one home.”

  He sat beside her on the edge of the be
d and hauled her close. “I am so sorry, Shel. So very sorry.”

  Giving in to the urge to cry, she let the tears and disappointment rain free. “It sucks, and it’s not fair.”

  “I know, hon.” His voice soothed her, along with the warm familiarity of his closeness, his touch. “We’ll take care of her until she’s well and then your friend Tansy will find another home for her, a better home.”

  “No—” her voice caught on a hiccup “—I’ll just keep her. Daisy is not going back to the shelter.”

  “Okay, you’ll foster her until she finds a home. That’s a great idea.”

  “Nuh-uh.” She scrubbed a fierce hand over her eyes. “She’s mine. I’m adopting her.”

  “What about Samson and Delilah?” His hand smoothed over her hair, down to lightly massage her neck. “Are you sure three dogs is a good idea? And what about how much Daisy loves being with kids?”

  She jerked away, her hands gripping her knees. “Yes, damn it. Three dogs and no kids. She’s staying with me. It’s not your problem, anyway, since you’ll be gone.” Her hands fisted. “All that matters is no one is ever going to reject me again—”

  Realizing the massive Freudian slip that had fallen from her mouth, she clapped a hand over her lips in horror. “I mean, Daisy. No one is going to reject...Daisy...”

  All these years she’d worried about becoming her mother without realizing her deeper, driving fear that someone would reject her again. That she hadn’t been perfect enough for her mom so Pamela hadn’t even fought for custody. Yet the harder Shelby tried in her marriage, the more she’d pushed Alex away, until it had become some kind of self-fulfilling prophecy. She’d ened up alone and rejected yet again.

  Blinking fast, she set more tears free. Alex pulled her to him again and she didn’t bother drawing back. She cried harder, his bare skin soaking up her tears.

  His hot, muscled chest.

  All her raw nerves and emotions collided into one desire—in a day that had made her all too aware of everything she’d lost and the many ways she’d screwed up, she needed something good before she fell apart altogether.

 

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