A Puppy for Christmas

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A Puppy for Christmas Page 11

by Nikki Logan


  He glanced her way again. She was giving the guy a sad smile and walking away. Probably letting him down easy. He wondered how many times she’d done that over the years.

  He wondered what she’d do if he ever tried to kiss her.

  And now we’re done thinking about Ella, he told himself. Because that was so not appropriate. He was never going to kiss Ella. Surely the only reason he was even thinking about touching her at all was to stop thinking about the fact that everyone here seemed to think he was a real hero, when he had done nothing more than any other soldier during his years in the service.

  Ella must have seen him looking at her, because she faded even more into the background. No, she disappeared completely. When next he saw her she was holding Fizz.

  He couldn’t help himself. He gave her a look, raised an eyebrow.

  She shook her head. What did that mean?

  He took a step toward her.

  To his surprise she moved away. Subtly but most definitely she retreated.

  He tried again.

  Again she moved. He looked down at Fizz, who she was absentmindedly petting. The puppy looked at him and wagged his tail. Then he looked at Ella, before glancing back at Trey and giving a little woof.

  What did that mean? It almost felt as if Fizz was telling him something.

  More likely it meant that he was losing his mind. Fizz was a dog, and while Trey conceded that there might be people who had special connections with animals, he wasn’t one of them. Still...Fizz was kind of cute, and he had clearly won Ella’s heart. In fact he was the only male she seemed to want to spend time with here. Had to give the puppy credit for that.

  But when Bernadette Dixon got up and began delivering her slideshow on the history of the town, and twenty minutes later had barely reached the mid-eighteen-hundreds, Fizz was clearly beginning to squirm in Ella’s arms. People were beginning to snooze in their seats and Ella was looking distressed.

  Trey raised a quizzical brow. Reluctantly she came toward him. “It was supposed to be a very brief feel-good presentation about a few of the most memorable Decembers in Eagleton,” she whispered. “Followed by a period dance by our Grand Marshall.”

  He tried not to smile. “I assume you mean the ballet dancer and not me?” he said.

  “Of course. Unless you’d like to step in and save us by performing,” Ella said.

  Their whispering must have been too loud, because Bernadette was giving them evil looks.

  Ella sighed. “Bernadette is a sweetheart, but once she gets started she won’t stop, and this isn’t going to endear Stu’s festival to the cause. Time for a quick change of plan. I hate to ask you to do this, but can you hold Fizz for just a minute? He was in Stu’s office and on the verge of snacking on Stu’s leather briefcase. It wasn’t fair to leave him alone any longer. I need to get up on stage and make an announcement. We need to wrap this up with something more fun.”

  She appeared to be thinking as Bernadette went on and the sound of shifting chairs and feet got louder.

  “More fun? And what will that be?” he asked.

  She hesitated, then looked him in the eye. “I’d tell you, but then you might refuse.”

  With that announcement she moved toward the stage, leaving Trey wondering if this was going to be one more of those Ella moments he’d experienced when he was young—the ones that had turned out so badly and ended with that horrific day.

  In the next few minutes Ella had expertly applauded Bernadette for her “intro” to the town’s history, promised everyone that what Bernadette had offered was the merest taste of what they would find if they stopped in at the local historical society, and suggested that they wrap up the meeting with a rousing chorus of Christmas carols.

  “I’m sure that our hero and guest of honor, who used to be the lead singer in a...a fine garage band, would love to start us off.”

  And that was how Trey found himself up on stage, trying to keep up with a crowd who called out the names of their favorite Christmas songs. He gamely tried to remember the words, and was doing all right and even getting into the spirit of things until someone called out, “I’ll Be Home for Christmas.”

  “I love that song,” someone else yelled. “I always cry. Put your heart in it, Trey.”

  Trey knew the song. He liked the song. But for him it was too much of a lie. He looked at Ella. She and Stu were probably the only ones here who knew that this wasn’t his home, had never been and never would be.

  For half a second her gaze locked with his. He knew the minute she’d made a decision to do something very Ella-like.

  “Oh, Fizz,” she said suddenly, her eyes growing round, as if she’d actually forgotten the puppy.

  She reached out to take the puppy from Trey. The little dog had fallen asleep while Trey held him, but at the overly loud sound of his name he roused up and began licking Trey’s hand.

  “Thank you so much for holding him,” Ella said. “And thank you all for coming today. Don’t forget that we’re having a Christmas Walk with the merchants the day after tomorrow. Shall we end this meeting with a rousing chorus of ‘We Wish You a Merry Christmas?’ That’s such a perfect song to sing us out of here. Let’s bring the roof down, everyone!”

  Without waiting for an answer Ella began singing, and Mr. Murchant quickly caught up with her on the piano. The rest of the crowd quickly got into the spirit and joined in.

  Trey glanced to the side. Ella had left the stage. By the time the song was over she had disappeared.

  Now who’s the hero? Trey wondered. No one had even noticed that Ella had changed the song on them and prevented him from having to pretend that he was a man who dreamed of home and all the things that home implied.

  Ella had saved him...just as she’d tried to once before.

  But this time it was different. This time he appreciated the gift. And conceded that he owed her.

  And he was a man who paid his debts.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  ELLA CURSED HERSELF for having enjoyed the afternoon. Standing there next to Trey, his deep voice joining hers, little Fizz in his arms, she had felt a twinge inside her—a sense of belonging, of being in the right place. Which was so...stupid.

  Trey hated Eagleton. This town had never brought him happiness, and he was a success in a distant city now. No doubt he had plenty of exciting women who wouldn’t do something foolish like handing him a dog when he’d told her he wasn’t a dog person, or asking him to get up in front of a group of people and sing.

  “But what does any of that matter?” she asked Fizz as she took the puppy to the enclosed backyard to let him romp in the snow.

  She’d known when Stu asked him here that he wouldn’t want to come, and she’d promised him that she’d keep her distance from him. Spurred by concern that Stu’s festival was listing to one side, and by her knowledge that everyone loved a soldier, she’d manipulated Trey onstage and broken her promise today, but tomorrow things would be different. She would stay out of his hair.

  “You and I will make better arrangements tomorrow,” she told Fizz. “Maybe I’ll hire a...a puppy-sitter. Just for the day, you know.”

  Fizz almost seemed to be looking at her accusingly. Sadly.

  “That is so my imagination,” she muttered.

  But it wasn’t her imagination that she was still affected by Trey. She’d seen how gentle he was with Fizz, how he’d done his best to make everyone else feel at ease—even though he wasn’t comfortable with being the hometown hero, and even though it must make him uneasy when he was doing so well and so many people here weren’t. No one had said a word to him about his father moving the car-parts business out of state. Probably because they knew that no one had ever had any sway with Darren McFadden—least of all his son.

  “Stop it,” she muttered. Fizz cocke
d his head.

  “I’m sorry. Not you. It’s me, Fizz. I’m the one who’s messed up here.”

  Because she just couldn’t seem to keep her mind off Trey.

  * * *

  TREY HAD WANDERED upstairs to change. He was just peeling off his shirt and had not yet put on his T-shirt when he glanced out the window and saw Ella next door, tossing a red rubber ball to Fizz. The little dog tore across the yard in a kind of hop-run, then wrestled with the ball, slinging his head one way and then another.

  “Bring it here, Fizz!”

  Ella’s voice was muffled through the glass. He remembered how sweet she’d sounded during the Christmas carols today. He’d hazarded a glance at her for a second when they’d been singing, and her eyes had been like stars. It was clear that she loved what she did, that she loved this town and the people who lived here, that she fit. Just like she fit that little puppy she was clearly already falling for. She belonged here. And despite the fact that he didn’t belong, didn’t want to belong to a home and family place like this, he had been entranced watching her. Her lips had been soft, pink. Fresh. As if they’d never been touched. Though of course she’d been kissed. With that many guys hanging around and the fact that she was so eminently kissable... His body ached at the thought.

  He frowned at that. And saw that Ella had looked up at the window and seen him watching her.

  For a second he thought she was blushing, although at this distance he couldn’t really tell that. In the next instant he was sure she was distressed.

  Caught staring at her, he felt a bit like a stalker. He remembered a day when he had used that harsh word with her. It hadn’t been his finest moment. And now when she’d thought she was alone...

  Trey opened the window. “Sorry. I wonder...is there anything I need to know about the day after tomorrow?” Not the greatest attempt at conversation, but the best he could do on short notice.

  Immediately she looked guilty. “No, I—I won’t be ambushing you again like that. I’m sorry about the singing. And about Fizz. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  “Probably that Bernadette, well meaning though she might be, was going to cast a pall over Stuart’s festival, and that no one wants to be remembered as the man who killed Christmas.”

  She stared at him for a couple of seconds, then...yes, she really was blushing.

  “It’s my job to make sure things go right, and there are always going to be minor glitches. I’ll keep you out of them from now on. You’re the guest of honor, not one of the planners, and as far as your part is concerned everything from here on out will be perfectly perfunctory. You won’t need to worry. About anything. You’ve got all the info you need. We’re done. You can spend tomorrow free of any distractions. No one is going to bother you. I mean that.”

  With that, she picked up Fizz, said a curt goodbye and rushed inside.

  * * *

  ELLA CLOSED THE door, then stood there with her back against the wall. She felt hot, then cold, then hot again. Trey had been shirtless. Had she been staring? Had he noticed her staring?

  She pressed her palms to her hot cheeks.

  “Fizz, we have got to stay away from that man. It’s not good for us—not good for him.”

  Why had she asked him to sing today, when there’d been half a dozen other people she could have asked?

  But she knew. She knew. Trey had always felt at loose ends here. He’d been wanting to escape Eagleton forever. Despite the fact that they’d only known each other for one year, he’d said as much that awful day when he had confronted her with the truth: that she’d been watching him, spying on him, interfering in his life.

  He hated Eagleton and yet she’d known that all it would take was a hometown soldier to set foot on stage and the crowd would love him. The fact that he had a fine voice would make them love him more, and maybe for once in his life he’d feel...right.

  “That was presumptuous of me, Fizz. He already feels right, but it’s his new life in San Diego that suits him so well. He said as much. And I’m doing it again. Trying to fix things, to make them right.” And maybe this time she realized that her motives were selfish. Because she wanted Trey to see her in a different light.

  That was wrong, because what Trey wanted—what he’d always wanted—was to be left alone.

  And I need some self-respect, to know that this time I did the right thing with him. I stayed away and left him alone.

  The feelings that evoked might be a lot more hollow than her made-up fantasy feelings, but at least they were real. They were adult. They were...right.

  “So we keep ourselves busy, we don’t look next door, we line up all our tasks and we get things done. All without thinking of Trey McFadden. What do you think, Fizz?”

  The little dog cocked his head. Did he look sad? Ridiculous.

  * * *

  THE NEXT DAY Ella busied herself. She lined up all her lists. The merchants had collection boxes full of toys for the disadvantaged children at the preschool, but she would pick those up tomorrow, before the merchants’ Christmas Walk. In the meantime she went to the store and hurriedly bought ingredients for the cookies she needed to make.

  Fizz was home alone, so Ella rushed through the store.

  “How’s Trey liking his vacation home?” someone asked.

  “Not sure. We’re both so busy,” she lied. She had no idea what Trey was up to.

  “Ella, about Trey—” someone else began.

  “Sorry, sweetie, I have a puppy home alone and dozens of Christmas cookies to make. I’d stop if I could.”

  In truth, she hated brushing people off this way, but she could not talk about Trey. If just thinking about Trey made her blush and imagine him with his shirt off, what would happen if she talked about him?

  What would people think?

  They’d think she had a crush on him. And she didn’t. No, she didn’t. He was just a very good-looking man, a very virile man, and one she had once long ago had a crush on. It wasn’t the same thing at all.

  When she got home Fizz was chewing on Trey’s table again. She squealed and pushed it into an empty bedroom and shut the door. If she didn’t have to give Fizz up she would start to train him. As it was...

  “We’re on borrowed time, you and I, Fizz,” she said softly. Just like Trey.

  She closed her eyes at that thought, then started slamming cookbooks around and getting pans, bowls, measuring cups and spoons and all her ingredients out. A half hour later she put her first batch of cookies in the oven.

  It had started snowing an hour earlier, and now the kitchen was getting dark. Ella flipped on the light. She went to the window to close the shades and saw that Trey was shoveling snow, his tall form easily pitching the white fluffy stuff. He looked like...

  A vision of him in the window yesterday popped into her head.

  “Grr, stop it, Delancey,” she told herself.

  Suddenly everything seemed very quiet. Where was Fizz?

  “Fizz?” she called.

  A small woof came from the next room. A little tail was sticking partially out from beneath the sofa, and as she watched, he slithered farther under it. His next woof sounded distressed.

  Getting down on her hands and knees, she saw the problem. His ball had rolled beneath the sofa, but it was behind one of the far legs. Stuck. And it was clear that Fizz was not going anywhere without his favorite toy.

  She had barely gotten the ball out from behind the couch and Fizz from beneath it when the smoke alarm went off.

  Ella went running into the kitchen, grabbed a mitt, opened the oven and retrieved the cookies. They were charred bits of dough now.

  And the kitchen, indeed half the house, was full of smoke. She opened several windows, made sure the screens were in place, and faced her disastrous batch of cookies. She sat
down at the table and thought about how she hadn’t anticipated Bernadette’s protracted speech, how she had taken Fizz to the meeting and ended up passing him off to Trey, how she had actually conned Trey into singing. None of this was like her. She was competent; she loved her job; Stuart had chosen her for a reason, hadn’t he? So...why was she acting as if she’d lost half her brain? What was wrong with her?

  But she didn’t really have to think very hard. The truth was obvious. Trey McFadden had come back home and now she was aware of him...just as she’d always been. He made her nervous, hot, itchy—as if she didn’t fit into her own body.

  And this afternoon when she’d been baking the cookies she’d been thinking about Trey and had lost track of Fizz. She’d burned the cookies and might have done worse if not for the smoke alarm. Once again she was far too focused on Trey McFadden. That was just asking for trouble. This had to end. Now.

  CHAPTER SIX

  TREY TOSSED ANOTHER shovelful of light, fluffy snow. There wasn’t much left to do, but he preferred the biting briskness of the cold and concentrating on the task to allowing himself to think about the fact that he had clearly made Ella feel as if she had to hide in her house to keep from antagonizing him.

  Not that he should mind that she had gone inside. The less they saw of each other the better. Right?

  The sudden sound of Fizz’s mini-bark brought Trey’s head up. It wasn’t a muffled sound, either. And the dog sounded distressed. There it was again. And again.

  Trey rushed around the corner to where the sound seemed to be coming from.

  Fizz had his face pressed against the windowscreen. He was still barking, but when he saw Trey he stopped and cocked his head. He gave a little woof, then moved away.

  In two seconds he was back, barking again. And then he was gone again. The barking grew more pronounced.

 

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