by Liz Dodwell
I left Ammi with her Angel and crossed the room to chat with my brothers, Seb and Keene, and their wives. They’d arrived early in the morning to spend the day. I had a new niece I needed to get to know as well, and looking down on her I understood how Sophie had so much love for her sister.
“Are we expecting someone else?” Linda was looking out the window as a truck pulled up. “Oh, it’s the Sheriff.”
I felt a little apprehension. I couldn’t think of any reason for the Sheriff to drive out here on Christmas day. Surely something bad couldn’t have happened. Not today of all days.
I listened as Wisniewski climbed the porch steps. It sounded as if someone was with him. Rooster was by the door and opened it before there was a knock. The Sheriff was in civilian clothes. He stepped inside, taking Rooster’s outstretched hand and saying, “Merry Christmas,” before addressing the room and adding, “I’ve brought something for the girls.”
A man stepped around him; he looked vaguely familiar. I realized why when I heard a squeal and Sophie burst toward him, throwing herself into his arms crying, “Daddy.” A fraction of a second later Ammi was also in his embrace, and within moments we were all wiping tears away.
I was close enough to Rooster to hear him whisper to Wisniewski, “I hope there’s no reason you’re with Whittier other than doing him a favor by bringing him out here.”
“Only hoping you might offer me some of Edwina’s eggnog.”
“I think we can do better than that.” Rooster slapped him on the back. “Stay and eat with us.”
Twenty Eight
So, as you can imagine, it really was a wonderful Christmas. There were seventeen of us round the table; all the guys came over from the barn and we chowed down on turkey, ham and all the fixin’s.
Neal Whittier, it turned out, had not been on leave all this time. He’d been in debriefing but would be home for at least a month to take care of Nicole’s funeral and make arrangements for the girls. That turned out to be much easier than anticipated. Mom did that gentle, suggestive thing she does so well and in no time it was agreed that Linda would move in with the girls. Sophie and Ammi were delighted, and we were able to assure their father they couldn’t have a more caring or capable guardian in his absence.
As for that, Neal said he still had a couple of years to go, but perhaps it was time to think about retirement. His girls needed him, and he missed them. He knew Nicole was unhappy, he told us, and almost welcomed a break-up, though not like this.
My gift–giving ended up being IOUs. I promised Rooster a trip to Home Depot with a gift card. I was sending Mom for a day at the spa. Tyler said he’d take a year of daily kisses. “You already get that,” I said. “Good deal,” he replied.
Then there was Coco, who had lost her “baby” to the girls. “We’re going to the pet store, and you can pick out any cuddly toy you want,” I promised.
Oh, and if you’re wondering, all the pets got a little turkey as well, though I did have to stop Ammi from giving Dopey, I mean Angel, a piece of pumpkin pie. “But she wants it,” Ammi said.
The end
GET THE NEXT BOOK
Author’s Notes
Hi, dear readers. I hope you enjoyed reading about Polly and her family – including the furry kind – as much as I enjoyed writing about them. If so, please consider leaving a review wherever you purchased this book. As an independent author it’s not easy to compete out there, and your feedback will help me know what you like. I’d also love to get to know you on my facebook page:
http://www.facebook.com/LizDodwellAuthor
Join me there and tell me about your own pets or funny pet-sitting stories. I check there every day and answer all questions – honest!
Liz Dodwell devotes her time to writing and publishing from the home she shares with husband, Alex and a host of rescued dogs and cats, collectively known as "the kids." She will tell you, "I gladly suffer the luxury of working from home where I'm with my "kids," can toss in a load of laundry in between radio interviews, writing, editing, general office work or baking pupcakes (dog treats) while still in my PJs. I love what I do and know how lucky I am to be able to do it. Oh, and if you asked me what my hobbies are, I'd probably say reading murder mysteries, drinking champagne, romantic dinners with my husband and yodeling (just joking about that last one)."