Christmas with Tucker Read Online Free PDF

cruel dream, I wanted to be there when the screen door slammed shut and he walked back into our lives.
    So I stayed and waited and pretended that maybe tomorrow would be that day. My mother made it clear that she had not wanted to leave me behind, but she understood and allowed that I needed a few more months on that farm. So, in early September and with my full approval, she packed the car and drove off.
    With my father gone, my mother moved to start over, my sisters away at college, and my grandparents lost in each other’s arms, I was not sure where that left me, but I did know that I felt very much alone on top of that windswept hill.
    Before long I could hear, like sand blowing hard against glass, the sound of little bits of snow and sleet tapping out a haunting rhythm on the windowpane. Tucker sneaked up from the foot of the bed and squeezed into the space between me and the wall. He felt warm and comforting.
    Tucker’s ascent from the back porch and into our home was now complete, but my work was just beginning. Very soon, things would begin to change.

Chapter 7
    “TUCKER NEEDS his breakfast, too,” my grandmother said as she set his bowl on the kitchen floor. He lapped up his food with vigor while we looked on.
    “He eats more than George!”
    “Very funny, Grandma.”
    My grandfather stood near the kitchen window, surveying the yard. “All we got was a dusting.” He then turned his attention to a quick study of the dog. “He looks better. Food and a comb can do wonders for man and beast alike.”
    It took only moments for me to recognize what a good dog Thorne had stumbled on to. As I got ready for school that morning, it was clear that both my grandparents had reached the same conclusion.
    No one in the house could pass the dog without petting him and making some favorable remark about either his appearance or his friendly demeanor. When I got out of bed that morning, I almost tripped over him. He had spent the rest of the night on the floor, at my bedside. Having a dog felt so normal, if notnecessary—it was as if the McCray family had suddenly discovered the benefits of running water.
    Looking back on it now, Tucker was the only living creature in our house who wasn’t feeling sad, and perhaps that’s why he established himself so easily in our hearts and minds. When he wagged his tail and acted content, he reminded us how happiness looked and joy felt. We sensed that there was a huge absence in our lives, and though Tucker couldn’t fill it, his presence hinted, gave us some hope, that those vast empty spaces might someday be full again.
    On Thursday afternoon, after dropping my lunch pail and books in the house, I trudged around the farm, doing my chores with Tucker by my side. It had been a while since I strayed far from the barnyard, and I thought today would be a good day to do some exploring. Grandpa caught up to us and seemed to have a new project in mind for us.
    “Hold him for a second.” He slipped a bit of twine around Tucker’s neck and roughly measured its diameter, tying a small knot in the twine and stuffing it into his pocket. “I’ve got some leather scraps around the shop. I’ll make him a collar. Do you want to help?”
    “Nah, I think I’ll take him for a good long walk down to the creek.”
    Grandpa reached into his jacket and pulled out a letter. “I almost forgot. This is from your mother.” He handed the slim envelope to me, along with the rope we were still using for a leash. “You better take this, too. Just in case he tries to run off. Don’t let him in the barn when I’m milking. I don’t want him spooking the cows.”
    “I won’t. Thanks, Grandpa.”
    I pocketed the rope and the letter. I wondered if he’d speculated on its contents and how he felt knowing that I’d told Grandma I might want to leave the farm before year’s end. I knew that my grandfather, like Grandma, wanted me to feel that I would always have a home with them. I didn’t want to hurt