The Firefighter's Christmas Reunion by Christy Jeffries

Author:Christy Jeffries
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2018-09-12T17:39:34+00:00

Chapter Ten

“She kinda looks like a dalmatian,” Sammy said to Isaac, and Hannah had to bite her lip to keep from correcting the boy. After all, it wasn’t her child’s fault that Isaac had barged in uninvited on their visit to the animal shelter, getting her all flustered and then putting her on the defensive.

“Well, she’s white with some black markings,” Isaac replied as he gently removed a set of tiny canine incisors from the laces of his boot and urged the spotted puppy back toward her solid-colored siblings. He and Sammy sat on the concrete floor and rolled a tennis ball back and forth to each other as the four littermates gave chase, a flurry of oversize paws and wagging tails scrambling to be the first to catch the green felt orb. “But dalmatians have short hair and this girl is gonna be a total fur ball. Plus, the vet tech said they think she’s part husky and part Great Dane. She’s going to end up being almost twice the size of a dalmatian, aren’t you, Big Dot?”

“Big Dot!” Sammy repeated and giggled so hard he fell onto his side. Hannah wanted to warn him to watch the little yellow puddle one of the pups had made when it got too excited from a vigorous belly rub a few minutes ago. But Isaac had already teased her about being a germophobe when she’d insisted on a squirt of antibacterial gel every time any of them so much as looked at a different kennel. So, instead, she stood up and went in search of some paper towels or disinfecting wipes to clean up the mess.

“I think she likes me, Mama.” The sound of Sammy’s belly laugh as Big Dot tried to balance on top of the six-year-old’s chest made Hannah’s heart stretch so much, she doubted her ribcage could contain it. Just when she thought she might burst with happiness, her son said those four little words that would force her to into the role of meanest mother in the world. “Can we keep her?”

Sighing, she sat down cross-legged beside Sammy and stroked his head, her forefinger tracing the line where his hair met his face. “I don’t think that would be a good idea, sweetie.”

Sammy’s shoulders slumped against the ground as he looked up at the ceiling, sadness filling his solemn brown eyes. The puppy wiggled its bottom and the boy absently petted her, then rolled his head so he was looking at Hannah. “Remember when we had to draw our family in class?”

Hannah’s throat clogged at the memory. She’d seen the pictures hanging up in the kindergarten room when she was at the school for parent–teacher conferences the previous week, and Sammy’s had been the only one with just two people in it. And those two people didn’t look anything alike. She made another mental note to talk to Choogie Nguyen’s mothers as she slowly nodded at her son, waiting for the inevitable.

“Well, almost everyone had a pet in their drawing, except for me.

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