The Twelve Dogs of Christmas

by Lizzie Shane

  “I can’t believe you arranged all this.”

  “I can’t take credit. It was all Deenie’s idea. Except the lights. Those were me. And now, if you’ll excuse me…” He jammed his hat back on his head. “I’ve got a job to finish.”

  He tromped back the way he’d come, climbing back onto the snowblower and firing up the noisy machine as Ally watched. She looked around, taking in all the townspeople pitching in. Her grandparents had retreated back inside—probably to properly put on their winter gear so they didn’t miss the fun, but Ally didn’t move, even when her fingers started to feel stiff from the cold where she was gripping the pot and the spoon.

  This. This was what she wanted. To be part of a community that rallied together.

  She’d created a bubble around herself when her parents died, putting distance between herself and the world, because when she let people get too close, she was afraid she would get hurt. They’d been her whole world, and she’d shut off a part of herself when she lost them.

  Her loneliness hadn’t been about New York. Or working too hard and traveling too much. It had been about her. That’s why her loneliness hadn’t been magically cured when she moved to Pine Hollow. Even when she came here, she was still in that bubble. She wasn’t reaching out to see who was reaching back. She was hiding here. Behind the dogs. Behind her grandparents. Behind her camera.

  But she hadn’t hidden with Ben. And then she’d met Deenie, and somehow things had changed. The town saw her—and she didn’t need to hide anymore. She was right where she belonged.

  Deenie bounced over, beaming at her. “Were you surprised? We wanted you to be surprised. I love surprises.”

  Ally grinned. “I think it’s safe to say I was surprised.” She lifted the pot and spoon. “I was coming to scare off the moose.”

  Deenie snorted. “Honey, you need something bigger than that for a moose.” She thumped onto the porch, her feet hitting each step in a rapid-patter succession. “Did you see that application that came in for JoJo?”

  Ally cringed. One of the seniors from the Estates had fallen in love with little JoJo. She hadn’t known how to break it to Deenie, but she’d forgotten she’d given her access to the shelter email account. “I did. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. I want her to go to a good home. Especially because I can’t keep her.”

  Ally wanted to find some way for Deenie to end up with the little dog, but she could definitely empathize with wanting things she couldn’t have. It wasn’t just Ben. They hadn’t had any luck with grants or alternate funding, and the dogs were all getting adopted. The shelter was really going to close. And then what would she do? She’d been so busy worrying about the dogs she hadn’t let herself think about the future, but now it was all she could think of. She wanted to stay, but how would she make a living in Pine Hollow?

  “Are we cooking?” Elinor asked, appearing at the porch rail with Harry straining at the end of her leash.

  Ally flushed, realizing she was still clutching the pot and spoon, and ducked inside to get rid of them while Deenie explained. When she returned Elinor was on the porch, Harry seated beside her, though the Aussie instantly popped up when she saw Ally.

  “How’s she settling in?” Ally asked, crouching to greet the dog who wriggled with excitement.

  “Good. Though I think I’m going to be taking her to Burlington for training classes sooner rather than later. She’s the sweetest, cuddliest dog in the world, but I wasn’t prepared for an escape artist of her caliber. I’ll need to keep her entertained while I’m at work. But we’ll figure it out.”

  The engine of the snowblower cut out again, and Ally instantly turned toward the sound, her gaze finding Ben. He leapt off the machine, greeting a tall man in a tailored winter coat and clapping him on the back. Ben indicated the porch and the two men started toward them. Ally instinctively straightened.

  “She still in denial about that?” Elinor asked Deenie under her breath.

  “Apparently,” Deenie muttered back.

  Ally shushed them, coming to her feet as Ben approached with the man she’d now identified as Connor, the trash-talking poker buddy she’d met at the tree lighting.

  “Hey,” Ben called as they reached the steps. “Connor here is thinking about getting a dog. He’d like to meet Maximus.”

  “Maximus?” Deenie spoke before Ally could, skepticism ringing in her tone as she eyed Connor from his expensive leather gloves to his perfectly polished boots. “He’s a lot of dog.”

  Connor eyed Deenie—with the glitter on her face and the hot pink earmuffs—just as skeptically. “Are you implying I can’t handle a lot of dog?”

  Deenie met his gaze without flinching and smiled sweetly. “Yes?”

  Ally stepped forward before Deenie could antagonize him into retreat. “I’ll take you to meet him.”

  “No, I got this,” Deenie assured her, already bounding off the porch. “Come on, Princeton.”

  “I went to Yale, actually,” Connor corrected her, falling into step beside her as they made their way toward the kennels. “If you’re going to imply I’m a snob, at least get it right.”

  “Should I go supervise?” Ally asked, frowning after them.

  “They’ll be fine,” Ben assured her. “Deenie’s tough.”

  “It isn’t Deenie I’d be worried about,” Elinor commented dryly, before glancing pointedly past Ally. “Oh gosh, it looks like my light-untangling skills are needed at the barn. Have fun, you two.” She trotted down the porch steps with Harry, leaving Ally alone with Ben.

  Or as alone as they could be while standing on a porch in full view of all their neighbors.

  The driveway was free of snow—and cars, since everyone had parked down on the street to leave room for the snowblower to maneuver. The paths around the shelter were rapidly being cleared—and the kids had already disappeared inside, no doubt to play with the remaining dogs. With the snow mostly taken care of, most of the adults were now clustered around the barn, staring up at the eaves and offering unsolicited advice to the lucky folks at the tops of the ladders. Her grandparents had joined the kibitzers, smiling and chatting with their neighbors.

  “Is this all okay?” Ben asked, coming to stand beside her at the rail. “We pretty much invaded.”

  “Okay?” Ally looked up at him. The flying snow from the snowblower still clung to his shoulders and dampened his eyelashes and beard, making them look even darker. “I feel like George Bailey.”

  Ben frowned. “I don’t know what that means.”

  “We were just watching It’s a Wonderful Life. And I know this is going to sound so cheesy, but I feel exactly like George Bailey when the whole town comes together to save the savings and loan.”

  Ben winced. “Okay, don’t hate me, but I barely remember that movie.”

  “Seriously?” she squeaked. “It’s a Christmas classic.”

  He shook his head. “All I’ve got is something about pulling down the moon.”

  Ally smiled. Right now, she felt pretty confident he could have pulled down the moon for her. “If you’re only going to remember one part, that’s not a bad one.” Over at the barn, one of the ladders wobbled and everyone gasped before it was quickly stabilized. Ben tensed at her side, then slowly relaxed. “What are your favorite Christmas movies?” she asked to distract him from worrying about everyone else.

  “Astrid loves Elf,” he said without taking his eyes off the light-hangers.

  “I asked about your favorites.” At her side, a stillness seemed to fall over Ben. “You don’t have to think of her first every single time, you know.”

  “It’s habit,” he admitted. Then, after a short pause. “Scrooged.”

  A surprised laugh popped out of her. “With Bill Murray?”

  “That and Die Hard. Those are the real Christmas classics.”

  She couldn’t seem to stop giggling. “Very sentimental.”

  He shrugged, grinning. “I’m a softie.”

  “I�
��ve noticed.”

  His eyes twinkled down at her, and the world faded away as their gazes caught and held. Her breath went short with the possibility. The same possibility that felt like it had been building since the second they met.

  “Ben…” she whispered.

  But as soon as she started to lean toward him, lifting her hand in preparation for putting it on his firm, snow-coated arm, a cheer went up from the barn group, and Ben leaned away, his attention moving back to the shelter where icicle lights now dangled from the eaves.

  “Who wants cocoa?” Gram called, waving everyone back toward the house.

  Ally’s hand fell back to the porch railing as Ben cleared his throat. “Sounds like it’s time for hot chocolate.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Somewhere between snowplowing and cocoa, it turned into a party. The Gilmore living room was crowded with revelers. Kimber and Astrid played with the dogs while Deenie and Elinor sang Christmas carols in harmony, and everyone drank as much cocoa as they could hold.

  Ben sipped peppermint cocoa and watched his parents trading stories of past Christmases with their old neighbors. This hadn’t been what he’d intended when he’d asked Deenie if she knew anyone who had some extra Christmas lights lying around. He hadn’t expected a party, but Astrid had already declared that this was the best Christmas tradition yet, and they had to do it every year.

  It was tempting.

  Ben glanced over at where Ally was doubled over laughing as Deenie and Elinor improvised additional lyrics to “Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer.”

  A lot of things were tempting.

  He’d almost kissed her on the porch. Right in front of his parents, Astrid, and half the town.

  That would have been a huge mistake.

  Astrid was already so attached to her. The second he gave any hint that they were together, Astrid would latch on to that—the whole town would. Railroading them toward love. Which was the last thing he needed.

  He liked Ally. But she wasn’t necessarily staying in Pine Hollow, and even if she did, he didn’t know if this was forever.

  He needed to do everything he could to protect Astrid. To keep his love life separate from her so she wouldn’t be affected if things went down in flames.

  So he was avoiding standing too close to Ally. Or even within ten feet. He couldn’t be reckless. Not with Astrid in the picture.

  “Ally seems nice.”

  Ben hadn’t noticed his mother creeping up at his side, or he would have made more of an effort to keep his eyes off Ally. He pointedly looked toward Astrid. “Don’t,” he murmured to his mother. “The entire town is speculating. I don’t need you doing it, too.”

  “We all just want you to be happy,” his mother said, the words a gentle scold.

  “I am,” he insisted.

  And the crazy thing was…he really was. Not just keeping it together. Not just getting through the season. Not just having momentary flashes of joy to punctuate his base state of overworked panic. He was actually happy. He still had more things to do than hours in the day to do them, but somehow everything seemed a little more manageable now. Or maybe it was simply that he was learning not to sweat the small stuff so much.

  Astrid was happy. She was healthy. If the other parents at her school thought he was too much of a snowplow parent or not enough of one or whatever it was parents thought about one another, they weren’t going to pass around a petition to have her removed from his care. He hadn’t even had that dream recently—the one with the clipboard-wielding social worker who appeared to tell him he had officially failed Katie and Paul’s memory.

  “Have I told you how proud I am of you lately?”

  Ben met his mother’s eyes, startled by the words. He’d needed someone to tell him he was doing a good job for so long—and no one but Ally had seemed to see how badly he needed that. Or maybe he just hadn’t been able to hear it from anyone else. Maybe he hadn’t been listening.

  “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I’m not sure I would have heard you.”

  Sadness shifted in his mother’s gaze, and he knew she was thinking of Katie. Of Paul and the fact that they should be here now. Ben slipped his arm around his mother’s shoulders, tugging her against his side in a one-armed hug.

  “Your father and I have been thinking of spending more time up here. He’s ready to retire, and I thought I might cut back to half time so we could be around more. Help more.”

  Three weeks ago, Ben might only have heard his mother saying she didn’t think he could do this on his own, but now he saw the cautious hope in her eyes—like she wanted so badly to help but worried he would be upset by her offer.

  “Astrid would love to see more of you,” he said.

  Relief flashed across her face. “Yeah?”

  “I would, too.”

  His mother sniffled, her eyes glistening. “Well. Good.”

  Connor stepped in front of them, a giant mug of cocoa gripped in one large hand. “I’m getting a dog,” he declared forcefully.

  Ben blinked. “You are.” The statement was half question.

  “Maximus is perfect,” Connor declared. “You can’t break into my house anymore if I have the world’s biggest, loudest guard dog.”

  “If you want to call it breaking and entering, you probably shouldn’t have given me the door code.”

  His mother chuckled. “You boys have been bickering since you were five years old.” She lifted her empty cocoa mug. “I need a refill.” She gave Ben a squeeze before releasing him, her smile a little extra sappy as she moved away.

  “Poker tomorrow night?” Connor asked. “I’ll host. Your folks can have some valuable bonding time with Astrid and you can get drunker than Mac for a change.”

  Ben cursed softly. “I forgot it was Wednesday. I’m supposed to go to the pageant rehearsal in the afternoon, and you know how those things go. We’ll probably be there all night.”

  Connor arched a brow. “You’re doing the pageant now?”

  “Some of the dogs are going to be in it. The ones we haven’t found homes for yet. Partridge and Peanut—”

  “Say no more. You should have just told me Ally was going to be there.”

  Ben worked his jaw. “It isn’t like that.” He actually did need to tell her about the rehearsal. He’d only gotten the text back from the committee chair half an hour ago.

  “Sure it isn’t,” Connor teased. “So next week…”

  “Poker Wednesday. Absolutely.”

  “You know we don’t have to do poker,” Connor suggested. “Just say the word, and we’d all show up to do this for you.”

  “This?”

  “Barn raising. Or, in your case, kitchen remodeling. Or putting up walls in your basement so Mac doesn’t scream at the spiders every week.”

  Ben frowned. “I don’t think—”

  “Elinor said something about your two-year plan. To fix up the place and move out. We kind of figured you didn’t want to change anything, but if you want to get that stuff done, you know you don’t have to do it alone, right?”

  Something caught in his throat, but Ben kept his smile dry. “I always figured you were too pretty for manual labor.”

  “Oh, I am,” Connor assured him. “But I have no problem putting Levi and Mac to work. I excel as a supervisor.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “See that you do.” Connor moved to join the group around the piano and Ben hung back, the offer shifting around in his thoughts.

  For once asking for help didn’t feel like admitting defeat. When had that happened? Sometime between the tree lighting and the bake sale?

  As Ben watched, Ally bent down to say something to Deenie and then separated from the group, moving toward the back of the house. He needed to talk to her about the pageant, and if he did it where everyone could see, it would only stoke the rumors.

  He glanced around, but no one seemed to be paying any attention to him, so he slipped away, trailing her down the
hall away from the noise of the party. The hallway emptied into a room that looked like an artist studio, and Ben stopped on the threshold. Ally bent over a desk at the far end of the room, but she turned to face him, her camera in her hands.

  “Hey.” She lifted the camera. “I left this on the charger back here. You okay?”

  “Yeah, I just…” Now that they were alone together, this felt entirely too intimate. “I talked to the pageant committee and they love the idea of adding the dogs. All we need to do is bring them by tomorrow afternoon for the final rehearsal, and they’ll fit them in.”

  Her smile lit her face. “That’s great. Thank you.”

  He hesitated. “You know I—the other night, it wasn’t that I didn’t want…”

  “I understand,” she murmured, closing the distance between them.

  He couldn’t take his eyes off her. Just like always seemed to happen when they were alone together, he couldn’t seem to remember any of the reasons he shouldn’t want her.

  “I wanted to thank you. For today.”

  Her eyebrows arched high. “You’re the one who brought the cavalry and dug us out.”

  “Yeah, but you…” She’d made it special. She’d made it feel like Christmas.

  Ally smiled, tipping her head to study him. “Are you still convinced you’d be a terrible mayor?”

  “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “You love this town—even when it drives you crazy. You moved back here. You make time for the people even when you feel like you have no time for yourself, because it matters to you. You don’t have to be mayor or councilman or any of it. You can just be Astrid’s dad. But I think you might miss being the one everyone needs to keep this town running.”

  “But I’m not.”

  “Aren’t you?”

  The song drifting down the hallway changed and Ally went still, turning her face toward the sound, her eyes going distant.

  “Ally?” he asked, speaking softly. “You okay?”

  “Yeah…” She shook her head as “I’ll Be Home for Christmas” piped softly into the room. “This was my mom’s favorite Christmas song. My dad used to put it on for her, and they’d just sway in front of the fireplace.” She focused on him, her eyes nearly black in the low light. “You still don’t believe in signs, do you?”