Page 127 of The Holiday Gift

He pictured her old border collie, thirteen years old and moving with slow, measured movements. “Sure. I can come over tomorrow morning.”

“Oh, I don’t think it’s urgent. After Christmas would probably be fine.”

“All right. First thing Wednesday. Or if the kids and I feel like taking a walk after they open presents, maybe I’ll stop up at the house to take a look.”

“Thank you. You should probably go back. You left a fire in the fireplace, don’t forget.”

“Yes.” He wanted to kiss her, here in the wintry cold. He wanted to tuck her against him and hold her close and keep her safe from any more sorrow.

He didn’t have that right, he reminded himself. Not now. Maybe after the holidays, after he and the children moved into the new house and Mrs. Michaels came back, he could ask her to dinner, see where things might progress.

“Thank you again for your help with the gifts.”

“You’re welcome. If I don’t see you again, Merry Christmas.”

“Same to you.”

She gave that half smile again. Against his better judgment, he stepped forward and brushed a soft kiss on her rosy cheek, then turned around, scooped up his little dog and walked swiftly away through the snow—while he still could.

Chapter 14

“Hang on. Just a few more moments. There’s my sweet girl. Hang on.”

Icy fear pulsed through Caidy as she drove her truck through the wintry Christmas Eve in a grim repeat of a scene she had already played a few weeks earlier with Luke. She was much more terrified this time than she had been with the younger dog, and the quarter mile to the foreman’s cottage seemed to stretch on forever.

Sadie couldn’t die. She just couldn’t. But from the instant she had walked into the barn just moments earlier and found her beloved dog lying motionless in the straw of one of the stalls, all her vague concerns about the dog’s health over the past few days had coalesced into this harsh, grinding terror.

Sadie, her dearest friend, was fading. She knew it in her heart and almost couldn’t breathe around the pain. She couldn’t seem to think straight either. Only one thought managed to pierce her panic.

Ben would know what to do.

She had picked up the dog, shoved her into the bed of the nearest vehicle, Ridge’s pickup, pulled the spare key out of the tackroom and drove like hell to Ben’s place.

Now that she approached the house nestled in the pines, reality returned. It was nearly midnight on Christmas Eve. The children would be sound asleep. She couldn’t rush in banging on the door to wake them up, tonight of all nights, when they would never be able to go back to sleep.

Adrenaline still shooting through her, she pulled up to the front door, trying to figure out what to do. The Christmas tree lights still blazed through the window. Maybe Ben was still awake.

Sadie hadn’t made a sound this entire short trip, though Caidy could see her ribs still moving with her shallow breathing.

Caidy opened her door and was just trying to figure out which bedroom was his, wondering if she could throw a snowball at it or something in an effort to wake only him, when the porch light flicked on and the front door opened. An instant later, he walked out in stocking feet, squinting into the night.

“Caidy!” he exclaimed when he recognized her. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

Relief poured through her, blessed relief. Ben would know what to do.

“It’s Sadie,” she said on a sob, hurrying to the passenger side of the pickup. “She’s... Oh, please, Ben. Help me.”

He didn’t even stop to throw on shoes—he just raced down the frozen sidewalk toward her. “Tell me what happened.”

“I don’t know. I just... After Destry and Ridge went to bed, I was just sitting by the Christmas tree by myself and I... I decided to go out to the barn. It’s a...sacred sort of place on Christmas Eve, among the animals. Peaceful. I needed that tonight. But when I got there, I found Sadie lying in the straw. She wouldn’t wake up.”

She choked back her sob, knowing she needed to retain control if she had any hope of helping her beloved dog.

“Let’s get her inside out of the cold and into the light so I can have a look at her.”

He scooped the old dog into his arms and carried her back across that snowy walk. Caidy followed. Her heart felt as fragile as her mother’s antique Christmas angel. How would she bear it if Sadie died tonight, of all nights?

No. She wasn’t going to think about that. Only positive thoughts. Ben would take care of things, she was sure of it.

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