An Aspen Creek Christmas

by Roxanne Rustand

  Ethan held Cole’s other hand and steadied him. It took just a second to find Hannah in the crowd. Her long blond hair swung with each purposeful stride as she approached the four-foot-high wooden wall surrounding the ice rink. And yes, indeed—she definitely didn’t look happy.

  “We’d better go see what she wants, buddy. Ready?” Ethan glided slowly across the rink with Cole in tow.

  Molly was still clinging to the fence off to one side, awkward as a scarecrow on her skates. But a girl in a purple coat was talking to her now and gesturing toward the center of the rink.

  Molly let go of the fence and reached for the girl’s arm but flailed wildly, her feet going in opposite directions. She lurched forward to grab the fence, missed and landed on her rear.

  But instead of scowling, she was grinning at the other girl. Grinning. Ethan did a double take. That glimpse of her smile made every bump and bruise and penny of this adventure worthwhile, along with the aching muscles and tendons he’d have tomorrow.

  Except now Hannah had reached the rink fence, her mouth flattened in a grim line and her eyes flashing fire.

  Ethan continued toward her slowly, thankful Cole was with him. She seemed to be upset, but surely she wouldn’t make a big scene in front of Cole and so many townspeople whom she probably knew.

  “Why didn’t you answer my texts?” she demanded in a low voice. “I’ve been frantic.”

  Surprised, he raised an eyebrow. “You asked me to pick up the kids and I did.”

  “But now it’s after six o’clock. And I had no idea where you were.” Her eyes narrowed. “It didn’t cross your mind to let me know?”

  Yep, she was angry, all right, but he could also see the worry in her eyes. Had anyone ever been that concerned about Rob and him?

  All around him, he could see parents hovering over their kids, watchful of every step. Consoling the little ones who fell, cheering on every tiny success.

  It was like watching the old sitcom reruns where the loving mom always wore pearls, heels and a ruffled apron, and the dad dispensed calm, sage advice from a favorite chair. He’d watched those shows as a kid with longing, mystified by a world so different from his own.

  He could remember Dad as irritable and impatient over his unexpected role as a single dad after mom left. Gramps wasn’t much better. Rob and he had mostly experienced an unstable childhood of changes beyond their control.

  He jerked his thoughts back to the present. “I did text, and told you I’d picked them up. I don’t have a key to your house, so I called the ER to leave a message for you, wondering if you usually leave a key hidden somewhere. The guy who answered sounded pretty stressed out. He said you were assisting in surgery and couldn’t be interrupted. He said he’d give you the message.”

  “I never got it. But I’ve been trying to text you and you never answered. Not once.”

  “My phone is in the SUV, hooked up to the charger. But it only charges if the vehicle is running, so it’s still basically dead.”

  Her agitation seemed to fade. “Where have you been?”

  “After I got the kids, we went to get pony food, then to the malt shop. After that, we bought skates, where I think Molly fell for a cute guy from her math class, then we came here. Where, if you take a look to the right, you’ll see that Molly is making a new friend. I think. Unless she crashes and nails the poor girl again with her skate blades.”

  Hannah’s steely expression softened. “She needs a friend so much. I’m sorry, Ethan. I was terrified that something had happened.”

  He eased closer to the fence. “You mean you were terrified that I might have taken the kids. A rather surprising lack of trust, if you ask me.”

  She looked away, a delicate rose tint blooming on her cheekbones. “It’s been a stressful day, in a lot of ways. I apologize for thinking the worst, when you were doing such a good job with them. I was just so worried.”

  “On that note, I didn’t have a key, so your dogs have been in the house since ten this morning. I can finish up here and drop the kids off, if you want to get home to take care of things there.”

  “I hate to have you make the trip, but that would be super—oh, look!”

  He followed her gaze to the far side of the rink where Molly was clinging to her new friend’s arm as they slowly, painfully, made their way along the ice. Molly’s knees buckled and she went down, but the girl patiently offered her hand and Molly quickly scrambled back to her feet.

  “Believe it or not,” Ethan drawled, “it’s going a lot better.”

  “Me, too,” Cole chirped, his cheeks ruddy from the cold. “I’m better. Let go, Uncle Ethan.”

  Cole edged onto the ice with a wide-legged stance, moving his skates with tiny forward-and-back scissor motions that gained him little progress. “See?” He looked over his shoulder. “I can stand up!”

  Hannah cheered. “Wonderful! I’m so proud of you.”

  “I haven’t been the best teacher, but I saw a sign offering lessons. That might help.” Ethan grinned.

  Looking up at him, she rested a hand on his. “Great idea. I’ll definitely check it out. Thanks again, Ethan, for everything. I’m going to make a quick stop at the grocery store and then be on my way home.”

  “We’ll be there as soon as I can round them up, though it might take a while.” But Molly’s new friend was nowhere to be seen and Cole was trying to pick himself off the ice.

  So maybe it wouldn’t take as long as he thought.

  * * *

  Hannah parked in front of her garage just as Ethan’s headlights swung into the driveway. When none of his car doors opened, she went to the front driver’s-side door and rapped lightly on the window.

  He rolled the window partway down. “We’ll be in—just give us a minute.”

  “Something wrong?” She peered in the backseat window, where Cole appeared to be pouting and Molly wore a scowl. She stepped back to Ethan’s window. “Oh, dear.”

  He nodded. “We’ve been talking about people who are friends and those who aren’t. And how you can’t really make others play nice.”

  “So...something happened at the ice rink?”

  Ethan nodded. “The girl who befriended Molly pretty much stabbed her in the back as soon as some other girls came out on the ice.” He looked at the rearview mirror. “Right, Molly? She wasn’t kind at all. But I promise you, you’ll meet nice people before long.”

  “I hate it here,” Molly burst out. “Those girls were laughing at me. And the kids at school are all mean. They hate me, and say I talk like a stupid cowboy. I’m not going back there. Not ever.”

  “I love your Texas accent, sweetie,” Hannah said. “And others will, too. I think it makes you very cool.”

  Molly didn’t budge.

  “I don’t blame you for feeling upset, but let’s go into the house, okay? It’s cold out here and we can talk later.” Hannah opened Cole’s door and helped him out, then grabbed the ice skates that were on the floor.

  Ethan went to the back of his SUV and carried a fifty-pound sack of horse feed into the garage, then retrieved her groceries from the backseat of the Subaru and carried them into the house, with Cole on his heels.

  Molly still sat in the backseat, her face filled with misery.

  “Honey, I know you’re upset. But please come inside, okay? You’re going to get really cold out here.”

  At the sound of a faint, pitiful whimper, Hannah straightened and looked around the yard. “Do you hear something?”

  Molly’s scowl deepened and she sunk lower in her seat. But then she must have heard it, too, because she straightened and looked out her window.

  The overcast sky cast only a faint glow over the heavy drifts of snow in the yard and the high banks the snowplow had left along each side of the road.

  “Th
at sound didn’t come from the house or garage,” Hannah said quietly. “It sounds to me like something is hurt.”

  Molly got out of the car and joined her as she scanned the yard. “There—” She pointed to the base of the metal flagpole by the garage. “What is it?”

  She hurried toward the small, quivering shape.

  “No, Molly. Stay back,” Hannah called out sharply as she went after the girl.

  Now she could make out the shape—a skeletal dog of some kind that had been chained to the flagpole while they were away. Chained outside in the snow. With no shelter, in rapidly dropped temperatures.

  “Don’t get too close. She’s terrified and she might bite.”

  But Molly ignored her and crouched, murmuring gentle words. Still, the dog cowered as far away from her as the chain allowed, its tail tucked between its legs.

  Molly lifted tear-filled eyes to Hannah. “Just look at her. She’s all bones, and there’s something weird about her neck—it looks crusty. What if we hadn’t come back tonight? She would have frozen to death out here. Who would do such a terrible thing?”

  Far too many horrible people, Hannah thought. Molly’s tender heart hadn’t yet encountered the wretched people who locked dogs away in dirty kennels and never let them out, or kept them on chains in miserable conditions.

  Which was exactly why Hannah had begun her private, no-kill rescue. “The one good thing is that someone cared enough to bring her here, where she’ll now have a chance.”

  “W-will she be okay?”

  “I’m going to get some treats for her and hope to make friends before we try to move her inside.”

  But Molly was already edging closer to the stray, oblivious to the risk of approaching a dog this scared. Her sympathy would doubtless overcome all caution if she was left for even a minute without adult supervision.

  “On second thought—can you go get a little stainless-steel food pan, put some kibble in it and bring it to me? And switch on the outside floodlights when you come back out.”

  Molly raced into the garage and returned in a flash with an overflowing food pan. “What do I do—should I put it down in front of her?”

  “No. Come over here behind me and let’s see if this works.”

  Hannah crouched and tossed a piece of kibble a couple feet in front of the dog. The animal yelped and fought the chain, but she was already at its end and had no escape. When she settled, her bony sides were heaving and she was wobbling on her feet.

  “That’s a good pup,” Hannah murmured in a gentle, soothing voice. “You’ll be glad to come inside. Yes, you will. A nice warm bed, doggie friends, good food.”

  She tossed more kibble, and this time the poor thing just quivered. Then she edged forward with her head down and ears flattened. She gave Hannah a long, wary look, then suspiciously sniffed at the kibble before wolfing it down.

  “Can she sleep in my room tonight?” Molly whispered. “Please?”

  “Not yet. I think she’s been injured. She’s scared. Just coming into the garage would be a big transition right now. She might not be accustomed to any sort of indoor shelter.”

  “But she’s so cold,” Molly pleaded. “Look at her shaking.”

  “The garage is heated. I just keep the temp low so the transition of the animals going outside isn’t so abrupt.” Hannah tossed more kibble, a few inches closer to her own feet. The dog took a half step closer and eyed the food. Then she backed up.

  “She’s probably shaking from fear as well as hypothermia. The poor girl doesn’t have any body fat at all and I hate to think what I’ll find under that wet, matted coat.”

  “Can you take care of...of whatever is wrong?”

  “I’m going to talk to the vet in the morning and see if I can take her in for an exam before I go to work.”

  “It’s so cool that you do this.” Molly looked at Hannah with newfound respect. “But how will you get her there? She looks so scared.”

  “If she’s too frightened to be lured into my car, I’ll see if the vet can stop by. I don’t want to waste any time if she needs antibiotics or other treatment, and I very much doubt she’s had any vaccinations. I also need her checked for an identification chip.”

  Molly rocked back on her heels, aghast. “Why?”

  “She could have been stolen from a good home and then mistreated, or maybe she ran away from nice owners and got lost, then fell into the wrong hands. There might be children who miss her terribly. Or, sadly, maybe it was her real owner who is responsible for this.”

  Molly’s eyes widened with horror and started to fill with tears.

  “You should probably go inside,” Hannah said quickly. “Take your bath and get your pajamas on. You must be cold out here.”

  Molly shook her head. “No. I’m staying.”

  “Just a few more minutes then.” Hannah tossed another piece of kibble and this time the dog crept cautiously forward on its belly to within a few feet of them. She nabbed the morsel and didn’t retreat.

  “What a good girl you are,” Hannah crooned in a soft, low voice. “You’ll be so pretty when you put on a few pounds and have a nice bath. Where have you been to end up looking like this?”

  “What should we call her, Aunt Hannah? She can’t just be ‘the dog.’”

  Hannah glanced at her and smiled. “Since you were the one who found her, I think you should decide.”

  “Belle.”

  “From the cartoon?”

  Molly shook her head firmly. “Because she is going to be beautiful. I just know it.”

  “Perfect. Then Belle it is.”

  After another ten minutes of patience, the dog finally edged forward enough to sniff Hannah’s hand. Another fifteen and she finally accepted gentle strokes against the side of her head, though her tail was still clamped between her back legs and the hair along her spine raised.

  “Molly, can you do me a favor? I’ve got her distracted right now. Can you give us a wide berth and slowly, quietly, unfasten the chain from the flagpole? Then bring that end to me. Try to not let it jingle too much.”

  After taking care of the chain, Molly watched with rapt attention as Hannah slowly eased the frightened dog into the garage and offered her a pan of water.

  The chickens were already roosting for the night and didn’t stir, but Lucy barked once, then looked over the fence surrounding her pen at the newcomer with frank curiosity. Once the garage door was shut, Hannah breathed a sigh of relief.

  Whatever happened now, at least the poor thing couldn’t panic and escape into the cold winter night.

  “Now I need to fix a big pen for her, with lots of blankets, and she’ll be comfy for the night. And I also need to put the other dogs out one last time. So, young lady,” Hannah said firmly, though she couldn’t quite contain a smile. “You’ve been a great help, but now it’s almost nine o’clock and this time I mean it. Go get ready for bed. I’ll be in shortly, so we can talk about your tough day at school.”

  Chapter Eleven

  When Hannah finally finished her chores outside, she walked into the house and found Ethan on the living room floor, where he and Cole were playing yet another game of Candy Land.

  “I figured you and Molly were busy outside, so I thought I’d better stay with Cole until you came in,” Ethan said as he stood. “I wasn’t sure what to do about bath time, though, so I just let him get into his pajamas. He’s also had a bedtime snack, and just a couple minutes ago he brushed his teeth. Molly is taking a shower.”

  “Wow. Thank so much, Ethan. I appreciate it.” She smiled down at Cole. “So, let’s go read some stories, all right? Just a few, though. I should have been in an hour ago to get you to bed. Sorry.”

  “I had fun with Uncle Ethan. You can go back outside if you want, ’cause we’re playing a game.”
/>
  “You’ll have to finish another time. Can you say good-night to your uncle?”

  Cole hesitated, then stood and plowed into Ethan and wrapped his arms around Ethan’s good leg. “Thanks! Come again, okay? Someday you’re gonna win.”

  “I doubt that. You are way too good.” Ethan ruffled the boy’s hair and let his hand linger, as if he were savoring a moment he didn’t want to end. “Sleep tight, okay?”

  Hannah walked into Cole’s room and flipped on the light. She gasped. “Ethan—did you do this?”

  He sauntered into the room. “I hope it’s all right. I didn’t want to think about Cole using a mattress on the floor again, so he and I studied the situation while you were outside. Is it all right?”

  “All right? It’s perfect. Thank you so much.”

  He shrugged. “It was pretty easy. We switched some of the pieces so he has a regular twin bed now, and the spare pieces are in the upstairs storeroom in case you want to switch things back again.”

  Overcome with the sudden temptation to give him a kiss of thanks on the cheek, she took a quick step back, knowing it might unleash a flood of emotions she could not afford. The children were all that mattered right now. “It’s wonderful. Absolutely wonderful.”

  “I like it, too,” Cole said, climbing under the covers. “I’m not so high up, in case I have to go to the bathroom. And Maisie can even be on my bed, see?” The dog, curled up at the foot of the bed, thumped her tail once at the sound of her name.

  “This is perfect in every way,” Hannah said, her heart overflowing with love for this sweet little boy. And with sadness, too. Dee had missed so much of her children’s lives already. “Let’s say our prayers now, okay? And then we’d better let you get a good night’s sleep.”

  Cole dutifully recited his prayers. She kissed him good-night, turned on his night-light and went out to the living room, where Ethan was pensively staring into the fire he’d started earlier, his thumbs hooked in his back jeans’ pockets.

  “Molly is done in the shower and back in her room,” he said in a low voice. “She looks pretty tired.”