A K-9 Christmas Reunion by Lisa Carter

Author:Lisa Carter
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2024-07-09T12:30:37+00:00

Chapter Ten

Thanksgiving Day dawned crisp and cold. Overnight, the temperature had plummeted. Snow was forecast over the holiday weekend.

Filled with anticipation, Gemma awoke early to get a jump start on a timetable that would have rivaled D-Day. She didn’t bother putting on fancy clothes. She’d change into something more festive later.

Donning jeans and an old gray sweatshirt, she hurried into the darkened kitchen. Getting the turkey into the oven was her first priority.

She hadn’t been in the kitchen fifteen minutes before Nathan joined her. Downing a quick cup of coffee, he scanned her to-do list. Padding into the kitchen, Rascal availed himself of the new doggy exit. The little door flapped behind him.

A blast of frigid air followed in his wake.

“Brrrr...” She reached for her coat hanging on the peg. “I think I left my purse in the car last night.”

“I’ll get it for you. Stay inside where it’s warm. I’m headed outside anyway.” Nathan shrugged into his heavy, fleece-lined coat. “I have to chop through the ice so the cattle can drink.”

On frosty winter mornings, he was the kind of guy who had probably warmed the car for his wife. A woman would be blessed to have him as her husband. A woman like her?

A ridiculous notion, but she smiled at him. “Thank you. Happy Thanksgiving.”

Nathan smiled back. “You’re welcome, and happy Thanksgiving to you, too.”

Her heart ticked up a notch. Just because he smiles at you... Stop being such a teenager.

Nathan put on his work gloves. “I’ll be back to help.” There was another rush of air as he went outside.

Seconds later, Rascal bounded into the house once more.

Gemma gave him a hug. “Good dog.” His fluffy fur was cold against her face. The collie disappeared down the hall to resume his protective watch over Ike.

Wistful for the home she’d always longed for and never known, she took out the odd assortment of items she’d bought on a whim yesterday. She wasn’t sure why she’d purchased the ingredients for her mom’s corn pudding. Everything else on the menu was a Crenshaw family tradition.

Perhaps she’d merely wanted to bring something of herself—one of the few good things she’d carried from her own dysfunctional childhood.

She’d been angry with her mom for so long—unreasonably so—for failing to fix the toxic atmosphere with Gemma’s dad. But most of all, for failing to rescue them until it was far, far too late.

Yet putting together the recipe made her feel close to her mother in a way she hadn’t felt since the tragic events of that long-ago day. The ending of her family had been so painful she’d developed the habit of pushing her memories of her mother away. As if her mother had never existed.

But in pushing away the bad, how much of the good had she lost, too?

It made no sense to blame the parent who’d been most wronged for the situation. Yet she had.

Over the months that followed the tragedy, a host of trauma counselors had cautioned her that until she

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