Page 128 of The Holiday Gift

She thought of that day when she had taken Luke to the clinic, battered and broken. She had thought Ben so cold and uncaring. As she watched him gently lay Sadie on a blanket she had quickly grabbed from the sofa to spread in front of the still-glowing fireplace, she wondered if she had ever so poorly judged a person.

He was kind and compassionate. Wonderful. How could she ever have imagined that first day that he would become so dear to her?

“What’s going on, girl?”

At least Sadie opened her eyes at his voice, but she didn’t move as the veterinarian’s hands moved over her, seeking answers.

“You said she hasn’t been acting like herself. What have you seen?” he asked her.

She tried to think back over the past few days. The truth was, she had been so busy coping with the stress of Christmas, she hadn’t paid as much attention to her dog as usual.

“She’s been lethargic for three or four days. And it seems like on the nights when she wanted to sleep inside, she was always having to go out to pee. She hasn’t eaten much, but she has been more thirsty than usual.”

He frowned. “Exactly what I suspected.”

“What?”

He looked at her with such gentleness, she wanted to weep. “I’ll have to do labwork to be sure but I suspect she’s having chronic kidney failure. It’s not unusual in older dogs.”

She drew in a heavy breath. “Can you...can you fix it?”

“The good news is, I can probably help her feel better tonight. She needs fluids and I always keep a few liters in my emergency kit. I can give her an IV right here.”

“The bad news?”

“It’s called chronic kidney failure for a reason,” he said, his eyes compassionate. “There’s no miracle cure, I’m afraid. We can perhaps make her more comfortable for a few months, but that’s the best we can do. I’m so sorry, Caidy.”

She nodded, those tears threatening again. “She’s thirteen. I’ve known it was only a matter of time. But...even a few more months with her would be the greatest gift you could ever give me.”

“I don’t know for sure it’s kidney failure. It could be something entirely different, but from the symptoms you describe and the exam, I’m ninety-nine percent certain. If you want me to, I can wait to treat her until I run bloodwork.”

“No. I trust you. Completely.” She paused. “I knew you would be able to help her. When I found her in the barn, all I could think about was bringing her to you.”

He appeared startled at that, then gave her an unreadable look. “I’ll go grab the supplies for an IV, then.”

After he left the room, she knelt down beside the sweet-natured border collie, who had provided her with uncomplicated love and incalculable solace during the darkest moments of her life, when she had been a lost and grieving sixteen-year-old girl.

“Ben will help you,” she told the dog, stroking her head softly. “You’ll feel better soon. We can’t have you missing your Christmas stocking. Here’s a secret. Don’t tell any of the others but I got you a new can of tennis balls. Your favorite.”

Sadie’s tail flapped halfheartedly on the carpet. It was a small sign of enthusiasm, yes, but more than Caidy had seen from the dog since she walked into the barn.

What would have happened if she hadn’t found Sadie in time? The dog would never have made it. She was certain of that. When she and Destry and Ridge went out for chores on Christmas morning, they would have discovered her cold, lifeless body.

Just the thought of it made her stomach clutch. Shehadfound her, though. Something had prompted her to brave the weather so she could find the dog in time and bring her here, to Ben, who knew just what to do.

Whyhadshe gone out to the barn? Yes, she had found peace and solitude in the barn a few times before on Christmas Eve over the years, but it wasn’t as if she made a habit of it.

She had been standing at the window gazing out at the cottage lights flickering in the trees, ready to collapse in her bed after a long day with her family, when some impulse she still didn’t understand had compelled her to slip into her coat and head outside.

Coincidence? Maybe. Somehow she didn’t think so. More like inspiration. Perhaps her own little miracle.

The thought raised chills on her arms as she gazed down at her beloved dog. What else could she call it? She had gone to the barn just in time to save a life. Even more miraculous, a wonderful veterinarian who knew just what to do lived just a quarter mile away—and he had the ready supplies necessary to help her dog.

Yes. A miracle.

A sweet sense of peace and love trickled over her, healing and cleansing, washing away the fear and sadness that had become so much a part of Christmas for her.

The clock on the mantel chimed softly. Midnight. It was Christmas. What better time for miracles, for second chances, for hope and light and life?

---