Lee McClain - The Secret Christmas Child

“Well. I got into training dogs, a little, in rehab.” He made a disparaging gesture toward his prosthetic. “They had therapy dogs, and I kind of bonded with one of them who was about to flunk out. Got him over his fear of prosthetics, actually. Showed a talent, so they gave me a couple other troubled dogs to train.”

“That’s cool, but how’d you learn to do it? I mean, your aunt and uncle had Fifi, but...”

He rolled his eyes. “Fifi. May she rest in peace after eighteen years of giving everyone nothing but trouble.”

“She wasn’t exactly trained, it’s true.” Gabby chuckled. “She did have a lot of cute outfits, though.”

“Don’t remind me. But you know...” He trailed off, looking thoughtful. “I’d guess that, now, with what I’ve learned, I could actually train Fifi.”

She was fascinated, because he’d taken on the same dreamy-yet-passionate look he’d had when she’d known him years ago. “How did you learn what you know?”

“Online videos. Books. After I got better, they let me take a couple of dogs through agility training.”

“All this was through the VA?”

He nodded. “Because while I thought I was rehabilitating dogs, I was actually getting rehabilitated myself.” He sipped coffee. “So when I came home, and there was no possibility of carpentry, there was a need for someone to take over a grant-funded after-school program for at-risk boys. I added the element of dog training, and...Rescue Haven was born.”

“I have a feeling there was more to it.” But she admired his sense of industry, going directly into another line of work. “Reese, can I ask...why’d you come back to Bethlehem Springs?”

He looked out the window. The street was busy with people: couples strolling, families with kids, Christmas shoppers overloaded with bags. “My aunt and uncle needed me.”

“But they always—” She broke off. “I’m impressed that you did that for them, is all.”

“Because they favored Brock? Didn’t really want to take me in? I know,” he said. “But when he passed, they were devastated. Aunt Catherine, especially. My uncle came to visit me at the VA hospital and asked me to come back for at least a year, just to try to pull her out of her slump.”

She stared at him, remembering the cold, snobbish woman who’d rarely had a kind word for anyone. “You did that for her.”

He shrugged. “Uncle Clive pulled strings to get me funding for the dog aspect of the Rescue Haven program,” he explained. “I figured, if I couldn’t do what I wanted to do, at least I could do some good.” He drained his coffee. “Come on. Let’s walk and talk.”

She remembered that about him, then, that he always preferred to be moving. It was why he’d wanted to work with his hands rather than in an office; it was part of the reason he’d gone into the military.

They carried their cups to the counter and then headed outside.

The sun peeked through clouds, and there was a dusting of snow on the ground. The cold air made Gabby wrap her scarf around her neck and put up her furry hood. Reese, just like he used to, went bareheaded.

The temptation to reach for his hand was strong. They’d flowed so easily back into talking, just like old times. Sharing dreams.

He looked down at her as they walked, and she got the strangest feeling that he was fighting the same impulse. They’d strolled down these streets together so many times.

But he looked away and straightened. “Anyway,” he said, his voice going businesslike, “we should figure out this show, because we’re going to need to start practicing and getting organized right away.”

“True.” She frowned, thinking. “It’s got to be a kids and dogs show, somehow. Ooh, let’s go into Mistletoe from Mindy,” she said as they turned a corner. “It’s sure to give us some ideas.”

“You think?” he asked, sounding skeptical. But he held the door for her while they walked into the Christmas-themed shop. The scents of pine and gingerbread filled the air, and every possible display spot held ornaments, garlands and Christmas dishes.

Gabby spun slowly, looking at everything. “We should bring the boys here. It’ll help them get creative.”

Reese groaned. “The thought of all those big, clumsy boys in here... No. Just no.”

“Then what do you suggest?”

“It’s in a church,” he said. “Shouldn’t it be, like, a nativity pageant or something?”

“Dressing the dogs up like stable animals?” She frowned. “That would be cute, but would the boys go for it?”

“Doubtful,” he said.

She’d learned in her education classes that kids needed a sense of control. “In fact, we probably should let them do the planning, make up the show.”

He stared at her. “Do you know how... inappropriate a bunch of boys can be?”

“Oh, I’m sure they can.” She fingered a Santa ornament. “But if we explain to them that it’s for a church, and that it will help keep the program going, they may step up.”

He looked skeptical as they meandered through the shop.

“The alternative is having them sneer through a kid-like program they hate.” She was thinking of Jacob now.

“You have a good point,” he admitted. “At the same time, this is really important to me. The show is like a test. Do we really want to leave it in the hands of a small group of troubled boys?”

She bit her lip. “It’s scary. But if we explain how high the stakes are...”

“Let me think about it,” he said as they reached the door again and headed out of the shop. “That’s going to take an awful lot of trust.”

“In the boys?”

“In God,” he said.

She tilted her head, looking at him. That wasn’t something the younger Reese would have said.

“How about we ask Jacob his opinion? That’ll give us a test run of what the boys might think of, and also draw him into the program.” He met her eyes, his own crinkling in the now bright sunlight.

She drew in a sharp breath. Reese was so handsome. Tall, muscular and athletic, with those rare blue eyes that stood out against his dark complexion and hair.

Add a sincere faith and compassion into the mix, and he was almost irresistible.

Except she had to resist him. Because he was inevitably going to find out about Izzy, and she knew intuitively how much that would upset him. They’d both valued saving intimacy for marriage.

That choice had been taken away from Gabby.

Reese could never, ever find out about the circumstances of Izzy’s conception. That would devastate him and his whole family. And even though she knew better intellectually, it would cause her shame.

So she needed to flip the switch on this attraction to Reese. Unfortunately, she had the feeling it wasn’t going to be easy to do.

That night, Reese looked down at the big, drooling dog beside him and took a deep breath. “I don’t know if this’ll work, Biff. You’ll have to be on good behavior.”

The dog ignored him, lifting his leg in the light of the streetlamp in front of Nana’s house.

So much for making a good impression. He urged the dog up the porch steps, brushed a hand over his hair and reached down to adjust Biff’s floppy ear before ringing Nana’s doorbell.

Jacob opened the door, which Reese figured was a good sign. At least the teen wasn’t sulking in his room.

In fact, when he looked past Jacob, he saw a puzzle on a card table in the middle of the living room. Gabby and Nana were sitting at the table, and a soda by a third chair suggested that Jacob had been working on the puzzle, too. A Christmas movie was on the old-fashioned TV in the corner. Evergreen garlands looped up the stair railing, and a small, lopsided tree stood in the corner, half-decorated.