by Lizzie Shane
Ally was out of her depth, but she made her face as open and understanding as possible, silently urging him to go on.
“I feel like her jailer,” he admitted. “I’m going to pick her up after school and work from home this afternoon so I can guard her. Keep her from sneaking off to help you. And how can I be mad at her if that’s what she was doing? Volunteering at an animal shelter. Admittedly, she had ulterior motives, and she’s definitely not getting a dog now, but I just hate this. I feel like such a hypocrite. I listen to all these podcasts and read all these articles about encouraging independence and raising responsible children. Free-range kids, they call it—as a countermovement to the helicopter parent thing where every second of a kid’s day is scheduled and monitored. I want her to feel like she can do things herself, but the second I realized I didn’t know where she’d been, I lost my mind. And the lying didn’t help.”
“It’s understandable. You worry about her.”
“Yeah.” His gaze locked on his coffee cup, his voice low. “I’m just trying not to screw this up. This parenting thing…it’s harder than it looks. You want to let her take risks so she’s not scared of life, but how do you watch her do that? And when’s the right time to let her?”
“I would never put her with one of the dogs who might be too much for her—”
“I know. It’s not that.” For a moment she thought he would stop there, but then he surprised her. “It’s Katie and Paul. Her parents. It’s like the stakes are higher, because I need to do it right for them. Because they would do it perfectly.” His voice choked off and he cleared his throat roughly. “Though maybe the stakes would always be high if there was a kid involved. Maybe I’d always be scared out of my mind and convinced I was doing it all wrong. Maybe that’s just what parenting is.”
“For what it’s worth, I think you’re doing a great job. She’s an amazing kid.”
“Yeah, I don’t think I can take credit for that. That’s all Katie.”
“I don’t think that’s all it is.”
It was obvious how much he loved Astrid, visible in the affection on his face whenever he spoke of her and the way he agonized over doing the right thing.
“I figured out which dogs we’re taking to the tree lighting on Friday,” Ally said when the air in the room got too thick. “Deenie Mitchell’s going to help out, but if you and Astrid wanted to come with us…”
Ben grimaced. “Let me see how this week goes. Astrid would love it, but I’m still trying to figure out how long to ground her for. If it even does any good.” He glanced back toward his computer, and Ally took that as her cue to leave.
“I should let you get back to it, since you have to work from home later.”
He looked up at her, frowning. “I was going to help you get those photos for the Twelve Dogs feature.”
“Oh, don’t worry. I can get my grandfather to help. I’ll email them later this afternoon?”
“Perfect.” His gaze caught hers, holding. “Thanks for the coffee. You really don’t need to keep doing this.”
“Maybe I just like seeing your smiling face.”
Ben laughed like she’d made a joke, and Ally smiled to cover the fact that she wasn’t entirely joking. She did like seeing him. Maybe more than she should with someone who was engaged.
But it was just coffee. Coffee and maybe friendship. There were worse things in the world.
* * *
On Friday afternoon, Ally was unloading the spoils of her latest Costco run into the barn’s main storage room when Deenie burst in.
Today she was wearing jingle bells that rang whenever she moved and the world’s ugliest Christmas sweater—which she somehow managed to make seem fashionable. She struck a pose in the doorway, her arms over her head. “Hear ye, hear ye! We have—drumroll please—an application!”
Ally nearly dropped the kibble in her arms, scrambling to set it down. “Seriously?”
Deenie had been volunteering regularly over the last few days, and Ally had given her access to the shelter email accounts so she could arrange permission for the dogs to attend various events around town. Deenie knew the people in town better than Ally did, so they’d agreed she was more likely to be able to wheedle them into agreeing.
Now she bounced over to Ally, grabbing her arms and spinning her in a circle. “A real, live adoption application!”
“Who’s it for?”
“Captain America,” Deenie announced.
“Is it the Kwans? Or someone who saw him on the Twelve Dogs of Christmas?” The golden retriever mix had been featured the day before.
“None of the above. They’re from Burlington. Apparently they saw him on the news, and they’re huge Avengers fans, and they couldn’t resist. We should rename some of the others—see if they want an Iron Man or a Hulk to go with him.”
Ally grinned at Deenie’s enthusiasm. “Let’s just make sure they’re good candidates first.”
Deenie danced toward the exit. “It’s a start!”
“It is a start,” Ally agreed.
The feature was working—but it was only one application, and they had so far still to go. She wanted to tell Ben about it, but she hadn’t seen him since she brought him coffee on Wednesday. He’d responded when she’d sent him the latest round of pictures for the Twelve Dogs of Christmas feature, but there hadn’t been any more texting back and forth. He had to be busy with Astrid—and she told herself it was silly to miss the texts.
She still didn’t know if he was planning to join them for the tree lighting ceremony tonight.
When she finished unloading the supplies, Ally joined Deenie in the empty storeroom that had become their de facto training ground—and where Deenie was getting the dogs they’d picked for the tree lighting outing ready for their turn in the spotlight. Fred and Ginger scampered around the room, wearing the adorable ADOPT ME ribbons around their necks, while Deenie brushed JoJo to a shine.
Gram and Gramps had been helping earlier, but they’d gone to the house to feed Colby and Copper and get them settled before it was time to take the adoptable dogs to the town square.
Ally was inexplicably nervous about tonight. It was just a tree lighting, but it was her first big town event since she’d arrived, and now with the dogs needing homes, it seemed more important than ever that she make a good impression.
Still going Christmas crazy, Gram had hung jingle bells over the front door to the shelter, and they jangled as it opened, setting the dogs into a chorus of barking welcome.
“We’re back here!” Ally shouted to her grandparents.
But it wasn’t Hal and Rita Gilmore who appeared in the open doorway.
“Ben. Astrid.” Ally stood up so suddenly she startled Partridge, who had been leaning against her knee. He tumbled onto his side in slow motion.
Astrid beamed, barely containing her excitement. Ben had his hand on his niece’s shoulder and gave Ally a half smile as they entered. “Are we too late to help?”
Ally met his gaze, her heart thudding entirely too hard for a man she barely knew.
“Uncle Ben said you might be able to use us,” Astrid gushed.
“Of course,” Ally blurted, yanking her eyes away from Ben’s when she realized she’d been silent too long. “We can always use an extra pair of hands.”
Ben smiled, and she could almost swear his eyes twinkled before he glanced past her and gave a brisk nod. “Deenie.”
“Hey, Ben. Astrid.”
Partridge picked himself up from the floor and trotted over to greet the new arrivals, his bulk swinging pendulously as he snorted happily. “Don’t drool on me,” Ben warned, giving him a cautious pat on the head. Astrid was already kneeling on the floor, crooning at him as he snuffled at her fingers.
“Do you two want to handle Partridge?” Ally asked. “Since he’s so happy to see you?”
“He’s happy to see the treats he’s convinced are in my pockets,” Ben argued, but he picked up the end of the leash Partridge had been
dragging.
“Hey. That’s true love,” Deenie argued from her position on the floor with JoJo crawling all over her lap. “The way to any male’s heart is through his stomach.”
Ally hadn’t planned to bring the little papillon to the tree lighting. She’d mentally earmarked her as a perfect candidate for the Estates, but she’d noticed that Deenie the Dog Whisperer seemed to be particularly fond of the eager little dog with her tufted ears, calling her “princess” and putting little bows on her head—and if Deenie could somehow talk her landlord into letting her have a dog, it would likely be one that could fit inside a purse, just like JoJo.
She’d been wondering if they were bringing too many dogs—JoJo and Fred and Ginger and Partridge and Biscuit and Captain America, who was the best doggie ambassador of the group—approachable, placid, and sweet. Even though he had an application pending, he might bring people to the shelter to see the other dogs.
“I’m glad you came,” Ally said to Ben, with a little too much feeling. She was just so happy to see them. Maybe too happy.
“Me too!” Astrid enthused.
Ben opened his mouth to speak, but the bells over the door jangled again, cutting him off.
“Merry Christmas! Ho-ho-ho!” her grandfather bellowed, and Ally grinned.
“Hold that thought,” she murmured to Ben, moving past him to greet Gramps as he came down the aisle. “Everything okay at the house?”
“Yep. Your gram’s checking on that preggo pupper again.” He tossed an arm around Ally’s shoulder, and she squished against his bulky winter coat. “She’s smitten already. If I’m not careful, we’re going to end up with that pooch and all her pups running around underfoot. Imminent foster fail.”
“Maybe we should feature her on the Twelve Dogs,” Ally suggested. “Get a family lined up for when she’s ready so Gram doesn’t get too attached.”
“Who am I overly attached to?” Gram demanded as she rounded the corner to join them. “I love all my dogs equally and want each and every one to have a happy home.” She wasn’t using her sling again, and Ally resisted the urge to remind her that she was supposed to wear it even when she didn’t think she needed it as a reminder not to overuse her arm. “Speaking of, I had the greatest idea when your Gramps and I went out to the Estates for bingo night—where I won five hundred dollars, thank you very much.”
Ally gaped at her. “You won five hundred bucks at bingo?”
“Bingo is serious business at the Estates. It’s a huge draw—which is why we should do our pet fair on a bingo day. Residents come in from all the patio homes to play.” She frowned. “But then everyone who loses is bummed afterward. Maybe during one of the Christmas concerts is better. Less depressing. Hello, sweeties!”
She crouched to greet the dogs—and Ben and Astrid and Deenie—and Ally hung back with her grandfather, dropping her voice. “Shouldn’t she be wearing her sling?” Her grandmother had never been good at being cautious, but maybe Gramps could persuade her.
“She says it’s too tight over her winter coat. Don’t worry. We won’t let her overdo it.”
Ally tamped down her worry as they joined the others, but she couldn’t get rid of it entirely. Gram was sitting on the floor with Astrid, playing with Fred and Ginger. Gramps walked over to her, never hurrying, and offered his hand to help her to her feet. They were so different at times that it was hard to imagine how they’d ever fallen in love, but then Gram looked up at him, putting her hand in his and smiling, and it was all right there on their faces. They were always there for one another.
Ally’s chest ached with want. Her parents had been like that, but none of her relationships had ever come close. Was it her? Was she doing something wrong? Or had she just not found the right man yet?
“Hey.” Ben appeared at her side as if in answer to the thought—and she flushed, quickly squashing the urge to reach toward him.
Engaged, remember? They were friends. Very platonic friends.
“Hey,” she said back—clever as always, and relieved when her grandfather’s voice rose over them, breaking the moment.
“Shall we get this show on the road?”
Chapter Fifteen
Ice crunched beneath their boots, and the dogs pranced at the ends of their leashes, sniffing everything as they passed. Pine Hollow was charming year round, but a special kind of anticipation seemed to hover in the crisp, cold air tonight as they walked toward the town square.
Twinkle lights were draped over picket fences and lining the eaves of every house they passed. Wreaths seemed to have appeared on every door. The town had that magical Christmas feel, and Ally felt herself smiling as Deenie and Gram kept up a lively running commentary on everything they passed.
This was why she’d wanted to spend the holidays in Pine Hollow. For moments like this. Feelings like this.
“Are you mad at me?” Astrid appeared at her side, her voice soft and hesitant, her gaze on her hands where she held Biscuit’s leash.
Ally’s chest tightened. “Oh honey, no. Of course not.”
“Uncle Ben says I have to apologize to you. Since I let you think my parents said it was okay.”
As apologies went, it left something to be desired, but Ally cared more about the why than a pretty I’m sorry. “Did you think you couldn’t tell me?”
Astrid shrugged, still looking down. “Around here everyone knows. I guess…I don’t know. It was nice to pretend it was like it used to be for a while.”
“I can understand that.” Ally tugged gently on the leash to get Cap to pick up the pace as he lagged behind to investigate a smell. “My parents were killed in a car accident when I was eighteen. I don’t always tell people. It’s like it isn’t as real if they don’t know.”
Astrid looked up then, meeting her eyes for the first time since they’d started talking. “Was it someone texting?”
“No. Just bad road conditions and bad luck.”
Astrid looked down, and when she spoke, the words were so soft Ally barely heard them. “Do you still miss them?”
“Every day.”
Astrid nodded. They walked in silence for a moment, then Astrid looked up, worry in her eyes. “I love Uncle Ben.”
“I know. I love my grandparents.” Cap lagged again, and she gave the leash a little shake. “But it isn’t the same.”
“Yeah,” Astrid murmured. Biscuit did a little dance, twisting himself in his leash, and a smile twitched around Astrid’s mouth, fading as quickly as it had appeared. “They said I could have a dog when I turned ten,” she said softly. “My mom and dad.”
Oh sweetie. Ally’s heart ached at the unfairness of it. All the promises her parents wouldn’t be able to keep. Just another thing that had been senselessly taken away.
“Come on, you two,” Gram called. “Keep up!”
Ben looked over his shoulder from where he and her grandfather had been deep in conversation. Partridge waddled alongside. Ben’s brow pulled into a frown, and Ally pasted on a smile.
They’d reached the main part of town, and the foot traffic was more congested here with all the townspeople gathering for the ceremony. Ally shortened up Captain America’s leash to keep him closer, and Astrid did the same, mirroring her movements. Biscuit was one of the more docile dogs in the shelter, rivaling even Colby for laziness, but even he had perked up with all the new people around.
A stage had been set up to one side of the square, opposite the gazebo, which was strung with white twinkle lights until it glittered like an entire constellation of stars. A band played on the stage, filling the square with the sound of familiar Christmas favorites. Dozens of booths had been set up, hawking everything from cocoa to Christmas crafts—and the massive, darkened evergreen tree towered over it all.
The square was already packed, and the tree wouldn’t be lit for at least another hour. Ally felt a little whisper of nerves as she looked at the swarm of strangers. She’d never been intimidated by the crowds in New York, but this was different. A
ll of these people knew one another. She was the outsider here. Suddenly she wished for her camera to provide a buffer between her and the world.
“Wait right here,” Deenie instructed, picking up JoJo so she could navigate the crowds more easily. “The Friends of the Library said we could set up next to them. Let me see if there’s enough space.”
Deenie darted into the crowd. Seconds later, Gram perked up, tugging on her husband’s arm. “Oh, look, there’s Peg. Peg!” She waved, charging off into the crowd with Gramps and Fred and Ginger in tow.
“Can I go say hi to Neesha?” Astrid asked. “She thinks she can talk her parents into getting another dog, and she might like Biscuit.” Ben frowned as he looked where she was pointing. The two of them began discussing whether Astrid could handle Biscuit on her own—and Ally glanced around the festivities, her anxiety increasing.
Around the square, people smiled and called greetings to one another—but Ally didn’t know these people. She’d been here a month, and she was still as much of a stranger as she’d been when she only came for a few days around Christmas each year.
No wonder she wasn’t finding homes for any of the dogs. She wasn’t part of the community—
“You okay?”
Ally jumped at the sound of Ben’s voice close to her ear. Astrid was a few feet away, showing Biscuit off to her friends. “What? Of course. I’m great.”
Partridge and Captain America sat obediently at their feet. Cap alertly gazed at the people around them while Partridge alertly gazed at Ben’s pockets, lest more treats fall out of them.
“You look kind of green,” Ben observed. “I promise there’s no ritual human sacrifice before we light the tree. You’re safe.”
“Says the man who’s lived here his entire life.” She glanced around nervously as someone called out Merry Christmas. “I don’t know anyone. Who to talk to. Who to avoid.”
“So ask me. I know all.” He waggled his eyebrows, and she couldn’t help but grin. “Omniscience is one of the benefits of living in one place forever. That’s what I learned from Groundhog Day.”