The Twelve Dogs of Christmas

by Lizzie Shane

  “They’re growing on me,” he admitted, the words barely audible as he shuffled one step forward and placed his hand on her hip. “But the way you talk about signs, it seems like they’re just a way of giving yourself permission to do what you want to do anyway.”

  “Maybe.” Ally’s smile was small and private, her lashes shuttering her eyes as she shifted her camera out of the way, setting it on the craft table near the door, and erased the last of the space between them. One of her hands rested gently on his upper arm, and he caught her other one at her side, slowly bringing it up to rest against his chest. The top of her head barely came to his chin and she swayed closer still, resting her cheek over his heart.

  His heart seemed to slow and race at the same time, a thick, heavy beat, as if they shared one pulse, passing it back and forth between them wherever she pressed against him.

  He knew this song, he must have heard it a million times, but he didn’t think he’d ever hear it again without remembering this moment, the way the entire world seemed to fade away until it was just the two of them and the dreamy promise the lyrics wove around them.

  When the song ended, Ally was slow to pull away, her chin tucked down so he couldn’t see her face. “Feels like home every time I hear it,” she murmured.

  He cleared his throat roughly. “It’s a great song.”

  She nodded toward the hallway, reaching for her camera. “We should probably…”

  “Yeah.” But he wasn’t ready for her to leave yet. Wasn’t ready to go back to the party where he had to pretend he didn’t want to touch her. “Ally…”

  She looked up then, meeting his eyes for the first time since they’d fallen together into the song. “Yes?”

  He couldn’t kiss her. Not here. He’d already been foolish, dancing with her where anyone could walk down the hall and see them.

  They stared into one another’s eyes a beat too long and then Ben forced himself to look away. “Nothing.” He shook off the moment. “Why don’t you head back first?” he suggested. “I’ll follow in a few minutes.”

  She nodded. “All right. See ya later, Ben.”

  “See ya, Ally.”

  He waited until she was gone, trying to figure out what they’d just agreed to in all the unspoken messages that had seemed to fly between them. He didn’t like unspoken things. He liked having everything laid out in black and white, making sure everyone was on the same page, but he hadn’t wanted things to be clear because he didn’t want this thing between them to end. Even if he knew he was playing with fire.

  Turned out, he liked fire.

  And maybe he didn’t have to get burned. Ally had shown him that he didn’t have to give up himself to be a good guardian to Astrid.

  But if he tried to add one more thing to his life, would it upset the balance he’d found? Could he really have something more with Ally? Because he was starting to realize that was what he really wanted for Christmas.

  * * *

  Today had been almost perfect. Christmas carols and laughter and cocoa and community. And then that dance with Ben in Gram’s studio…

  It didn’t get any better than that, and Ally wasn’t ready for it to end. She didn’t want everyone to head home. Or maybe she just didn’t want one particular family to head out. One particular man.

  She stood on the porch in her jacket, saying goodbye to everyone as they made their way back down the freshly cleared driveway. Deenie and Elinor walked arm in arm toward town, still singing Christmas carols. Music drifted out of the house as Ben made a production of zipping his coat, taking his time as he lingered beside her on the porch.

  “It was great seeing you again, Ally,” Connor said loudly beside her, shooting Ben a look she couldn’t interpret. “Let me know when you process that application for Maximus.”

  “I will,” Ally assured him. He’d already completed and submitted his application, but she was a little wary of his enthusiasm. Once Connor was out of earshot, jogging to catch up with Elinor and Deenie, she turned toward Ben. “I’m not sure that’s the best fit. Maximus is quite a handful.”

  “Don’t underestimate Connor’s stubbornness,” Ben advised, pulling on his hat.

  “You’re sure Deenie didn’t just goad him into it?”

  “That might have had something to do with it,” Ben conceded. “But Connor’s a good guy. And he needs something in his life right now. Maximus could be just the thing.” He tugged on his gloves, looking up toward the barn where the twinkle lights gleamed in the darkening twilight. “The lights look good.”

  She followed his gaze. “They do.”

  “I’m just glad I didn’t have to do them.”

  Her gaze snapped back to his. “You are? You seemed so gung ho the other night.”

  “I might have a tiny little problem with heights,” he admitted.

  Ally’s jaw dropped. “Wait. You’re afraid of heights, and you were going to climb up to the top of that barn to put up my Christmas lights just so you wouldn’t owe me for doing laundry over here?”

  “Never underestimate my stubbornness, either.” He met her eyes. “You wanted lights. I wasn’t going to let a little thing like crippling fear of plummeting to my death stop me.”

  She pressed her lips together, trying to fight the smile that felt like it was radiating out of her soul. Never underestimate his stubbornness…or his kindness. How could everyone in town not see what a prince this man was?

  She wanted to kiss him, to throw her arms around him and pay no attention to who might be looking, but the front door opened behind them and more people spilled out onto the porch.

  Ben shifted away. “I should get Astrid and my folks home.” His eyes met hers and he lowered his chin a notch. “Ally.”

  “Ben.” Her voice came out breathless, everything in her tight with awareness.

  He slid past her, gently brushing her arm, then moved down the steps, off to gather up Astrid from where she’d disappeared into the kennels again to visit the dogs.

  “It was very nice to meet you, dear.”

  Ally jumped, turning guiltily to face Ben’s mother. “And you, too.”

  Mrs. West paused, looking toward the barn where Astrid had emerged to meet Ben. “Thank you,” she murmured after a moment.

  “Oh. For…?”

  Ben’s mother studied her, her gaze intent. “I don’t know what’s going on between you two or isn’t, but you’re good for him.”

  “Oh, I…I don’t know that—”

  Mrs. West met her eyes, Ben’s knowing winter-blue gaze coming at her from the smaller woman’s round face. “Ben isn’t always an easy person to help. They can say whatever they want about nature versus nurture, but that boy was born wanting to do everything himself. I still remember when he was a toddler, and the only thing we could ever get him to say was, ‘Me do it!’ He never wanted anyone to help him. Not even us. But with you…I haven’t seen him this relaxed in years.”

  “I don’t think I did anything—”

  “You don’t have to think it,” his mother said calmly. “But thank you all the same.”

  Ben crunched across the snow-covered gravel toward them. “What’s all this?” he called when he reached the bottom of the steps.

  “Nothing you need to concern yourself with,” his mother said with a flip of her scarf, grinning at Ally. “Good night, Miss Gilmore.”

  “Good night, Mrs. West.”

  “Rachel. Please. You and I are going to be friends.”

  Ben was still frowning when his mother descended the steps and linked her arm through his. His father emerged from the house a moment later.

  Ally stood on the porch, waving the last of their guests goodbye and trying to hold on to this moment. This feeling. Trying not to think about the future. Just looking up at the lights on the barn eaves and feeling like she was in exactly the place she was meant to be.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  December twenty-third dawned crisp and cold, with a brisk wind that picked up t
he top layer of snow and blew it into slopes against the sides of buildings and fences all around Pine Hollow. The snow had all been blown off the trees, but the sloping drifts made all the edges seem like they’d been rounded off the buildings. Ally wanted to grab her camera and head into town as soon as the sun was up, but she detoured via the barn, which seemed to echo with empty pens even as the remaining dogs greeted her.

  Once Connor claimed Maximus and the newly christened Hemingway went home with Mr. Blake, it would only be Partridge, Peanut, and Dolce and her puppies.

  That afternoon she and the unclaimed dogs were due at the community theater for the final rehearsal of the Christmas pageant, but until then she had time—to clear her head and come up with a plan.

  She had to find some way to keep the shelter open. She finally knew what she wanted. She knew where she wanted to be, but she needed income. She might be able to line up a few freelance jobs remotely, but her career would undoubtedly take a hit if she stayed in Pine Hollow. Could she make ends meet with a part-time local job that still left her time to help out at the shelter? Provided she could find some way to keep the shelter open.

  Once the dogs were all fed and cuddled, she picked up Peanut. The tiny chihuahua still hadn’t found his people and seemed especially lonely since his pen-mates had been adopted, so she tucked him into a little sling inside her jacket and carried him with her as she headed into town.

  Ally had struggled with what to get her grandparents this year, but when she’d tried to think of the perfect gift for Ben and Astrid, the answer had been obvious.

  All the photos in their house were of Astrid with her parents, before Ben had come to live with her. Over the last couple of weeks, Ally had managed to capture several great candids of Astrid and Ben together—at the Christmas Fair and the senior center—but the real gem had been yesterday when she’d gotten a picture of Astrid and Ben and Ben’s parents all laughing together. She planned to blow up black-and-white versions of the photos and frame them, but she didn’t have any spare frames.

  So she ducked her head against the icy breeze and hurried toward the small shop Gram had told her about on Maple Street. It was more arts and craft supplies than frames, but as soon as Ally stepped through the door to the chime of bells and the familiar smell of developing chemicals, she knew she was home.

  “Come on in and have a look around!” a raspy female voice called from the back. “I’ll be right out.”

  Ally made her way through the clutter of the store until she spotted a table overflowing with mismatched frames of reclaimed wood. Some were rough and jagged, others smooth and polished, but each had been made with care and an artistic eye.

  “You finding everything all right?”

  Ally looked up as a woman came out of a back room. She had to be in her seventies, with a shock of white hair sticking straight up in spikes, glasses an inch thick, and tattoos running up and down her arms.

  “These are gorgeous,” Ally said, holding up one of the smoothly polished driftwood frames. “Did you make them?”

  “Mm-hmm.” The woman’s gaze flicked down to the camera tucked into the crook of Ally’s arm. “You Rita’s granddaughter?”

  “Ally Gilmore.” She extended a hand. “Are you Peg?”

  A leathery hand gripped hers. “That’s me.”

  A tiny nose poked out of Ally’s coat, and Peg’s eyes widened behind her thick glasses. “And who’s this?”

  “This is Peanut. Sorry, I should have asked—is it all right if I have him in here?”

  “I don’t have many rules here. Peanut’s as welcome as you are.” She extended a hand for the tiny pup to sniff. “Do you think he’ll let me hold him while you pick out what you want?”

  “One way to find out.” Ally gently lifted Peanut from his sling and settled him onto Peg’s palms. The scent of developing chemicals drifted off her skin. “You have a darkroom back there?”

  Peg’s eyebrows popped up as she tucked Peanut safely against her chest. “That I do. You’re welcome to use it if you like. Most kids your age are all about the digital.”

  “Digital’s convenient, but I like both. There’s something more real somehow about watching a picture develop.”

  Peg grinned. “Woman after my own heart. I’m not much of a photographer, but I play around with it from time to time. My problem is I can never stick to one medium. That’s how I ended up with this shop.” Keeping Peanut tucked snug against her chest with one tattooed arm, she spread the other to indicate the whole shop. “Behold, all my many hobbies.”

  Ally took it all in—everything from paints to stained glass, clay sculptures and wood sculptures and blown glass ornaments. “It’s incredible.”

  “No need to butter me up. I know you’re a real artist. Rita’s shown me some of your stuff.”

  “The photography’s just a job,” she hedged, suddenly self-conscious.

  Peg snorted. “I think we both know that’s not true. A passion is a passion. You ever think about showing some of your stuff at the farmer’s market? During the winter we only have ’em once a month at the community center, and they’ve been canceled since the roof caved in, but I hear they’re gonna be fixing it soon, so we should be up and running before long. Give ya a deal on my frames if you wanna use ’em to showcase your work at my booth.”

  “That sounds like I’d be getting the better end of that deal. Discounted frames and a spot at the farmer’s market?”

  “You forget. I’ve seen your stuff. I’ll sell more of my frames with your stuff in ’em than I’d ever sell on my own, and people will come to look at your pictures and buy my knickknacks. Win-win.” She shrugged. “Besides, it’ll be fun.”

  Ally studied Peg. “Did my grandmother put you up to this?”

  “Rita?” Peg snorted. “Nah. She brags on you, but that woman doesn’t have a business-minded bone in her body. She wouldn’t think of it.” She cuddled Peanut a little higher, tucking his silky head beneath her chin. “Just consider it. Let me know if you’re interested.”

  “I will,” Ally promised. It was a good offer, one she would absolutely take Peg up on if she stayed, but selling a few photos wasn’t going to keep her solvent.

  “You could even bring some of these little guys.”

  Ally smiled at the offer to include the dogs—but she had to find a way to keep the shelter open first.

  “So how many of those frames you need?”

  She’d planned to get three for Astrid and Ben.

  She bought a dozen.

  Ally walked back home with a bulging canvas bag banging against her leg, her camera in the crook of her arm, and Peanut once again tucked into his sling inside her jacket. She was halfway back when her phone binged in her pocket. She paused in front of the bakery, smiling to herself as she remembered the first time she’d seen Ben—glowering at her over his coffee-stained shirt—and stepped to one side to set down the frames and check her phone.

  She expected a text from Deenie or her grandparents, or maybe Ben, but it was an email, not a text. Ally started to put her phone away when the subject line caught her eye.

  Interview with the Spectrum Group.

  She sucked in a breath.

  The job she’d applied for before she left New York. Good benefits, good pay, but more importantly, that company was a team. A family. That’s what all their employees said about working there. It was why she’d wanted the job. Seeing the same people every day, being part of a community like that. No more travel. No more building connections with people she never saw again.

  Two months ago, the position with Spectrum had been her dream job—and even now her heart rate was accelerating as she thought about meeting with them.

  But the truth rang inside her like a gong.

  She didn’t want that life anymore. Her dreams had changed. She wanted Pine Hollow. She wanted the shelter. She wanted him.

  She was in love with Ben West.

  The future was still so unsure here, but she couldn’t i
magine walking away from this.

  “Did your jacket just whimper?”

  Ally yanked her gaze off the phone to lock on the two women who had just exited the bakery. One was tall and dark-haired, and the other cradled an adorable little French bulldog in her arms. Spotting the dog—and a likely forever-mom for Peanut—she slapped on her brightest smile. “Possibly.” She opened her jacket to reveal Peanut in his sling.

  The women moved closer, their faces softening as everyone’s did when they saw Peanut. “That is the tiniest dog I have ever seen. Is he a puppy?”

  “Nope, he’s about ten years old. And up for adoption if you’re interested.”

  The dark-haired woman’s eyes were such a pale brown they were nearly gold, and they widened, locking onto Ally’s. “So you’re the one I’ve been hearing about.”

  “I am?” Ally asked.

  “You run the shelter, right? I’m Isabelle Scott.”

  Her smile was so open and welcoming it took Ally a good thirty seconds to place the name. “You…”

  “Used to be engaged to Ben West. Yeah. That’s me.”

  Before Ally could figure out what people had been telling Ben’s ex about her and what one was supposed to say to the ex-fiancée of the man she was falling for, the other woman gave a little squeak of excitement.

  “Wait, you work at the shelter? So you must know who’s been doing those cute little photos for the Twelve Dogs of Christmas emails. I am in love with them.”

  “Thank you.” Ally gestured with the camera in her left hand. “I took them.”

  “Oh my goodness, darling, you are so talented. I’m Kaitlyn Murray, and this is Romeo.” She indicated the little Frenchie in her arms, who snorted his own greeting. “I take pictures of Romeo for his Instagram, but they never look as good as yours. What do you charge? Because whatever it is, I. Will. Pay it.”