“What?” Mr. Spain barked.
Millie giggled as she sat on the porch watching as poor Spike tried to hang some fairy lights in the trees around the house. She bet he hadn’t anticipated having so many helpers.
Turning on the ladder, he gave her a look that promised retribution. She didn’t know why he was blaming her. All she’d done was made the suggestion that some fairy lights in the trees might look pretty.
She hadn’t expected Mrs. Spain and Mrs. Larsen to demand that Spike drive them to the store to buy them. Or that they’d all expect him to hang them then and there.
She just smiled widely back at him.
One of the puppies barked and another one ran across the porch and onto the lawn, a shoe held tightly in his mouth.
Uh-oh. That looked suspiciously like Spike’s shoe. Seemed all the puppies had caught onto Mr. Fluffy’s games with Spike.
It was only because they liked him so much.
Or that’s what she tried to tell him, anyway.
All the other puppies raced out of the house, chasing him. Well, all of them except Mr. Fluffy who was sleeping on the porch in one of his dog baskets. Mrs. Spain and Mrs. Larsen had also done some shopping for all the puppies.
“You’re happy.”
She glanced over as Reverend Pat walked towards her, carrying two cups of coffee. He set them down on the small table that sat between the two rocking chairs. Then, leaning over he adjusted her blanket on her lap, making sure it covered her legs even though it wasn’t that cold out here.
Everyone was fussing over her. She’d barely been allowed to lift a finger in two weeks. But she knew she’d given them all a fright. It was their way of showing they cared. Although she’d never have thought Reverend Pat would worry so much.
She guessed, deep down, he really did love her.
“I am. I really am.”
He handed her a coffee then sat and took one for himself. She took a sip. Ahh, made perfectly.
“He’s a good man. Wasn’t so sure for a start. The tattoos. The motorcycles. His gruff manner. But he loves you.”
“He does. And I love him. Gruffness and all. Although he still hasn’t taken me for a ride on his motorcycle.” She pouted. She’d have to wait until her arm was fully healed.
“Probably a good thing,” Reverend Pat muttered. “Not sure I want you on the back of one of those things.”
She rolled her eyes at him good-naturedly.
His face grew serious. “I’ve been worrying about you since the moment you left Nowhere.”
“Really? Because you seemed awfully happy to see the back of me at my good luck party,” she teased.
He sighed. “I admit, there have been times over the years when I thought you were sent to test my patience. But I’ve missed you, Millicent Margaret. Your smile. Your joy. Even your clumsiness.”
“Aww, Reverend Pat, you love me, don’t you?”
“Wouldn’t go that far,” he said gruffly. But she noticed his cheeks growing red. “You’re a good girl. Your grandparents would be very proud of you. Daria would be proud of you.”
Sadness filled her. She was still coming to terms with her sister’s death. “I still feel like I failed her.”
He reached over and patted her knee gently. That was about as affectionate as he got.
“You aren’t responsible for everyone, Millie. And you couldn’t fail anyone if you tried.”
She sniffled at his words. “Thanks, Reverend Pat. Wish you could all stay longer.” They were headed home the day after tomorrow. And the puppies were all going to their new homes. She was a little sad that Spike wouldn’t let her keep Mr. Fluffy’s littermates. But she guessed having five puppies might be a bit much.
“It’s time to get home. I fear we might be outstaying our welcome.” He grinned as Spike let out a frustrated groan.