The Dog Who Came for Christmas

by Sue Pethick

  He hoped Renee would get there soon. She’d sent him a text telling him she was running late but that she’d be there before dinner started, and Travis had replied that he would eat her dessert if she didn’t. It was the kind of lighthearted banter that he and Hugh never indulged in; he hadn’t realized until it happened how much he’d missed it.

  Hank Fielding walked over, wearing a grin that said he could tell that his old friend was on edge. Travis pointed an accusing finger in his face.

  “I blame you for this.”

  “Oh, quit whining,” Hank said. “This town’s had it rough the past few years. It does our hearts good to have something to celebrate—even if it is you.”

  “Maybe, but if you hadn’t told everyone in town about the money, I wouldn’t be standing here like a bride on her wedding night.”

  “Well, if that’s the way you feel, I’ll give you the same advice my grandmother got on her wedding night: Don’t worry, dear. It’ll all be over soon.”

  “Oh, you’re a big help.”

  Hank turned and surveyed the room.

  “Like it or not, the fact is you deserve this award. Thanks to the Diehl Foundation, there are twelve kids in this community who’ll have a chance to make the most of their schooling.”

  “Only twelve? I thought there were fourteen now.”

  “There were, but a couple of parents called me with questions this afternoon. Once that’s cleared up, I’m sure they’ll be back on board.” He smiled. “This program is going to be a real testament to you and your folks.”

  “I just wish they were here to see it. They would have been so proud.”

  Hank laid a hand on his shoulder.

  “I believe they are proud,” he said. “Proud of you both for what you’re doing.”

  Travis felt a lump rise in his throat. It had been a long time since he was a regular at church, but his faith was still strong, and he knew his folks were in a better place. Still, that didn’t keep him from missing them or wishing they were still there in the flesh.

  “Hugh’s having a trial run at a group home, did I tell you?”

  “No.”

  “I take him down there in the morning and pick him up on Christmas day. Not the best timing, but they’re having a party on Christmas Eve, and they encourage the prospective residents to attend. Sort of a trial run to see how they handle the excitement.”

  “You think he’ll be wanting to make it permanent?”

  “He seems ready for it. My only real concern is for Max. The group home already has a therapy dog, and there’s no room for another.”

  “What’ll you do with him?”

  “Oh, I’ll keep him,” Travis said. “He’s good company, and Hugh will want to see him when he comes home to visit. My biggest problem right now is keeping him in the yard. The little booger’s wriggled out of every collar I’ve put on him.”

  From the corner of his eye, Travis caught a flash of pink hair; Renee was standing just inside the door. He saw her bite her lip as she looked around, searching for a familiar face.

  “Listen, I gotta go. Nice talking to you.”

  “Same here,” Hank said. “I’ll see you later.”

  * * *

  Renee held her breath as she scanned the room, trying to find a woman whose outfit was as casual as hers. The two she’d already seen outside were so dolled up she’d had to summon her courage just to walk past them. Now that she was inside, however, it looked as if her wardrobe might not be too much of a liability. She spotted Debbie Crowder across the room, too, and smiled, relieved to find a familiar face. When it was time to pick a spot for dinner, maybe they could sit together.

  Travis was coming toward her, wading through a sea of people who seemed intent upon slowing him down with congratulatory handshakes. When their eyes met, he gave her an apologetic shrug, and Renee shook her head. It’s fine, she mouthed. After all, he was the one getting an award; he deserved their accolades.

  “Sorry I’m late,” she said as he joined her. “I had a client who just had to have her color done for a party tonight.”

  “It’s fine,” he said, giving her a quick hug. “You look great.”

  Renee felt her cheeks warm.

  “Thanks.”

  “I’m glad you’re here,” he said. “I could use some moral support.”

  “You and me both.”

  He raised an eyebrow.

  “Problem?”

  “I don’t know. It’s just”—she looked around—“these are your friends, but I hardly know anyone.”

  Travis leaned closer.

  “Honestly, I hardly know them myself. I’ve only been back in Bolingbroke a year, and I’d been gone a long time before that.”

  She shrugged.

  “In that case, I guess we’ll just have to stay calm and hope they don’t bite.”

  He laughed. “Just keep your hands away from their faces.”

  The crowd parted as the two women Renee had seen outside walked in. They were both blond—one willowy, the other on the plump side—and both accompanied by men in formal suits who abandoned them at the door to make beelines for the bar. When they spotted Travis, the two of them headed over.

  Of course, Renee thought, dreading their arrival.

  “Hey, Travis,” the plump one said, giving him a couple of air kisses. “How are you, darlin’?”

  “Fine, Marissa,” he said as the other blonde left dual lipstick smudges on his cheeks. “Hey, Laila.”

  “Who’s your little friend?”

  Renee could almost feel herself shrinking under the woman’s gaze. Now that they were closer, she recognized her as one of Winona’s regulars.

  Travis made the introductions.

  “This is my friend, Renee Richardson. She agreed to come and watch me make a fool of myself tonight.” He winked at Renee. “And these ladies are Marissa Daniels and Laila Campbell. Marissa’s husband, Trey, is our new mayor. Laila’s husband is in real estate.”

  They shook hands.

  “So pleased to finally meet you,” Marissa said. “I’ve seen you at Winona’s several times, but we’ve never had a chance to be properly introduced.”

  Renee felt Travis’s hand lightly touch her back.

  “Can I get you something from the bar?”

  She nodded, suddenly sure she wouldn’t make it through the evening without a drink.

  “A glass of white wine, if they have it.”

  “Wine it is.” He smiled. “Ladies? If you’ll excuse me.”

  Renee watched him walk away, feeling a bit like Daniel in the lions’ den.

  “So tell me,” Laila said. “Who stained your hair that interesting shade of pink?”

  Marissa gave her a disapproving look.

  “It’s not a stain,” she said. “And I believe Renee does it herself, don’t you, dear?”

  “Oh . . . you’re one of Winona’s girls. Well, bless your heart.” Laila glanced toward Travis’s retreating back. “How on earth did you meet our Mr. Diehl?”

  Renee swallowed. This was exactly the reason she’d been reluctant to accept Travis’s invitation. Their comparative social standing made them about as compatible as oil and water.

  “I met him at my son’s school,” she said. “And later, he came by the salon for a haircut.”

  “And it looks very good, too,” Marissa said. “We both remarked upon it when we came in, didn’t we?”

  Laila turned ever so slightly away from Renee and began fussing with her own hair.

  “I wonder if I should drop by Winona’s and see what she can do for me,” she said. “Once my own girl’s books began filling up, it seemed as if she just stopped trying. They do that, you know.”

  They do that? Renee was aghast. Was that how Laila thought of her, as one of them?

  Marissa gave her friend a peevish look.

  “Laila dear, I think I see Beau looking for you. Why don’t you go and find out what the man wants?”

  “Of course.” The woman gav
e Renee a condescending smile. “So nice to have met you.”

  Marissa waited until the woman was out of earshot before turning back toward Renee.

  “I am so sorry,” she said. “I’m afraid Laila thinks entirely too much of herself.”

  “No, that’s all right,” Renee said. “I’m sure she’s not the only one who’s surprised that Travis invited someone like me here tonight.”

  “Oh, don’t worry about them,” Marissa said. “We’re here for Travis. This award is a very big deal.”

  Renee nodded, feeling marginally less awkward. Marissa was right: It was Travis’s night. But maybe, she thought, it would be a turning point for the two of them, as well. They hadn’t known each other a long time, but each time they saw one another it seemed as if their connection had deepened. Even better, she wasn’t afraid he’d turn out to be another Butch. Any man who’d donate the funds for a program like the one at Bolingbroke Elementary had to be someone who understood the needs of kids like Kieran. And as soon as she had the chance, she was going to tell him how much it meant to her, personally.

  Marissa looped her arm through Renee’s and gave it a hug.

  “I can’t tell you how glad Trey and I are that those children are getting the help they need. With the economy like it’s been, there are many families in our town who are struggling just to pay for food and housing, much less the expensive medication their children need.”

  Renee looked at her.

  “Medication? I thought the program was about therapy.”

  “Well . . . I suppose it is, in a way. But you can’t expect therapy to work if the children are unmanageable. Once they’re properly medicated, it will be much easier to deal with them in the classrooms without disturbing the others. Bless their hearts, most of them just can’t control themselves.”

  Renee slowly withdrew her arm from Marissa’s grasp.

  “You mean, the point of the program is to medicate the children?”

  “I should think so. What do you think Travis Diehl has been doing for the last fifteen years?”

  She shook her head.

  “He told me he worked for an oil company.”

  “He did.”

  “But you just said—”

  “Oh, you sweet thing. Most medicines are based on petroleum.” She gave Renee a pitying look. “Did you not know that?”

  “No,” Renee said. “I didn’t.”

  She glanced toward the bar and saw Travis talking to Debbie Crowder. How could a man who was so kind and so thoughtful be so unfeeling when it came to kids like Kieran? No wonder he hadn’t wanted to talk about his award, she thought. Renee had already made her objections known; as soon as Kieran joined the program, they must have warned him. She’d even asked him why he’d chosen learning disabled kids for his donation, and instead of telling her, he’d changed the subject.

  And I thought he was just being modest.

  She felt dizzy, her mind a riot of conflicting emotions. She thought she was falling in love with him, but how much did she really know about Travis Diehl? Who was he, really?

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’ve got to go.”

  “But you just got here,” Marissa said. “Is there something wrong? Was it something I said?”

  Renee shook her head.

  “No. No, it wasn’t you. I’m just—” She glanced across the room. Travis was almost at the head of the line. If she didn’t go now, she’d be stuck there all night, trying to pretend that her heart wasn’t breaking. She had to go. She couldn’t bear to talk to him until she’d had time to think about what Marissa had said.

  I have to get out of here—now.

  * * *

  The line at the bar had been moving at a glacial pace since Travis arrived. As it inched forward, he’d been monitoring Renee and hoping she was all right. The people of Bolingbroke were as kind and generous as any group of humans on the planet, but they could be critical of newcomers, and he hoped she wasn’t getting the third degree—especially from Marissa. She and Savannah Hays were best friends in high school, but his mother had told him there’d been an estrangement between the two, and he had no idea where things stood. Renee seemed to be getting on with her well enough at the moment, though, and as soon as he got their drinks, he’d go back and rescue her.

  He was almost to the head of the line when a thickset man in a dinner jacket came over and slapped Travis on the back.

  “Well, if it isn’t the Prodigal Son,” he said. “How you doing?”

  “Couldn’t be better, Trey.”

  Travis had known Trey Daniels since high school, but the two of them had never been close. Back then, most of their interactions had been through the girls they were dating—Trey with Marissa and Travis with Savannah Hays. Trey and Marissa married when they were in college, and Trey had worked at his father’s construction company until becoming Bolingbroke’s mayor the year before. From the looks of him, though, Trey Daniels hadn’t been doing much construction lately. The man had the well-fed look of a lazy house cat.

  “I was sorry to hear about your mama,” he said. “She and your daddy were good people.”

  “Thank you,” Travis said, freeing himself from a handshake that was too tight to be entirely friendly. “Hugh and I miss them both every day.”

  Trey frowned, working his mouth like a man who’d found a pit in his olive.

  “How is that brother of yours?” he said. “Have you decided what to do with him yet?”

  “Hugh’s got a job doing computer programming for an outplacement firm in Raleigh. I’m not sure what you think I ought to do with him.”

  “Oh, a job, sure,” Trey said, throwing Hank Fielding an annoyed glance as he joined them. “That’s good, I suppose. As long as you keep him and that dog of his off the streets.”

  What was going on? Travis wondered. Had there been a problem with Hugh and Max that he didn’t know about? He glanced at Hank, who gave his head a slight shake and looked away. He was about to ask for clarification when Trey held up a hand.

  “Gotta go. My foreman just got here,” he said. “Congratulations on the award. Maybe next time you’ll give your money to a good cause.”

  As the man strode off, Travis gave Hank an open-mouthed stare.

  “What the hell?”

  “Don’t mind him,” Hank said. “You know how Trey is.”

  “No, to be honest I don’t know how Trey is. I didn’t ask anyone for this award. If he’s got a problem with it, it’s not my fault.”

  Hank raised his hands.

  “It’s okay, Trav. The man’s just letting off steam. He thinks anybody who doesn’t do what he’d have done in the same position is just plain wrong.”

  “Then he can keep it to himself,” Travis said, watching Trey blunder his way through the crowd.

  “Can I get you something, sir?”

  He turned back and saw the bartender looking at him expectantly.

  “Two glasses of white wine, please.”

  Debbie Crowder walked by and gave his sleeve a tug.

  “Love your hair. We must have the same great hairstylist.”

  “Oh,” he said. “Did Renee tell you?”

  “No, Savannah mentioned it when she stopped by the office on Wednesday. I told her we’d better be careful, or Renee’ll be too busy to see us anymore.”

  “Well, I’m sure she’d appreciate the compliment, if you want to tell her.”

  “Oh, is she here?”

  He pointed toward the door.

  “Over yonder, talking to Marissa.”

  Debbie looked over and frowned.

  “Really? I don’t see her.”

  CHAPTER 21

  Renee rolled over in bed the next morning and picked up her phone: seven missed calls since last night and two messages, all of them from Travis. She set it back down on the nightstand and stared at the ceiling.

  I won’t talk to him. I can’t—not now. Not until I know what to do. She’d been thinking all night about what Marissa
Daniels had said, trying to decide what exactly had upset her so much that she’d felt she had to leave. It wasn’t just that the Diehl Foundation’s program was aiming to medicate the children—Renee knew that some kids needed, and were helped by, their meds—it was that everyone involved had lied about it, even when they knew she had objections. Either Hank and Mrs. Dalton had been instructed to lie, or they didn’t know they were lying because Travis had lied to them. And if he’d do that, how could she ever trust him to tell the truth to her?

  The phone buzzed again. Renee glanced at the caller ID and checked the time; Travis was getting an early start. When the buzzing stopped, she threw her legs over the side of the bed and walked into the bathroom. She wasn’t going to sit there all day, jumping like a flea whenever she got a call. In two days, Jack and his family would be showing up, and she had plenty of things to keep herself busy until then. If she left her phone at home, she might even have an hour or two without being reminded of Travis Diehl.

  She took a shower and got ready to go before heading down the hall to eat breakfast. Her father was sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee when she walked in.

  “Eggs and sausage on the stove if you want it.”

  “No thanks.”

  She opened the refrigerator and took out the milk, noting the level on the side.

  “How was the awards show?” he said. “Sounded like you came back early.”

  “My last client ran late. I was too tired to stay for the whole thing.”

  “Mmm.”

  She poured herself a bowl of Cheerios and ate it standing up.

  “I’m heading down to the store after breakfast. We’re almost out of milk, and we’ll need stuff for lunches. I still haven’t gotten a turkey for Christmas dinner, either, and I know there are some things that Megan feeds the girls that we don’t have on hand.”