Holiday in Your Heart Read Online Free PDF Page B

you’ll be nice and warm and have a good meal.”
    The dog would also be in a prison cell, albeit a more pleasant one than Johnny Cash’s Folsom Prison. Mo could relate to Caruso’s dislike of confinement. Still, November was no time for an animal to be fending for itself at night.
    Maribeth pulled into the driveway of a rancher-style building that bore the sign H APPY P AWS A NIMAL S HELTER .
    â€œHow about you go in,” Mo suggested, “and find someone who has a leash?”
    â€œGood idea.” She slid out of the car and hurried to the door.
    A couple of minutes later, she was back with a youngish man wearing low-slung jeans and a gray hoodie with the hood pulled up over a baseball cap. A leash dangled from the guy’s hand.
    Mo climbed out of the car and, as the young man reached for the back door handle, said, “Be careful. The dog may try—”
    Too late.
    The moment the door opened a few inches, Caruso was out like a shot.
    â€œShit,” the kid said ruefully.
    The dog raced across the street—thankfully, there was no traffic—aiming for a sturdy, bare-branched tree on the boulevard. The lowest branches were about four feet off the ground, and with a leap, the dog launched himself from the ground. He landed in a crook of the tree. A quick scramble and he had climbed up a few more branches, to perch like a cat and peer down at them. In the muted light from streetlights, the dog’s eyes glowed an eerie green.
    Mo, Maribeth, and the kid all gaped back at the dog. That was one pretty amazing animal.
    â€œCaruso climbed that tree.” Maribeth sounded dumbfounded. “I’ve never seen a dog do anything like that.”
    â€œYou’d think he was half cat,” the staffer muttered. “He’s, like, boneless. He can squeeze through cracks that you’d swear a rat couldn’t get through.”
    That had to be an exaggeration, but it did get the point across and also make Mo wonder why the boy hadn’t been more careful when opening the car door. “What are we going to do about him?” Mo asked.
    The kid shrugged. “I’ll put some food at the bottom of the tree. He won’t starve.”
    â€œBut he’ll be cold,” Maribeth said. “He should be inside. We should try to get him out of the tree.”
    â€œKnow what?” the boy said. “If he’s cold, he can get back inside the same way he got out. Or go to the door and bark. It’s his choice.”
    â€œI guess,” Maribeth said, sounding uncertain.
    â€œLady, you can’t help an animal unless it wants your help.”
    Just like people. Mo nodded at the truth of that statement. “He’s right,” he said to Maribeth. “Seems to me that dog knows what he wants. He’s healthy and he’s survived up until now, so he must know what he’s doing. Come on and I’ll buy you that drink.” He took her elbow. It was an automatic gesture, but suddenly his bare palm tingled as if he’d touched the heat of her skin rather than the thick wool of her coat. Static electricity? Had to be. Still, he felt disconcerted as he urged her back to her car.
    When they’d both climbed in again and she started the engine, he said, “Here’s the thing. Would you mind if we didn’t go to a coffee shop or bar? I’d invite you back to my apartment, but I just moved in and the cupboards are bare. Any chance we could go to your place?”
    As she turned to stare at him, he held up both hands. “I know it sounds weird. Honest, I’m not trying to pull anything. It’s just that I, uh, don’t exactly want to publicize my presence in town. Not until . . . Well, that’s what I want to talk to you about.”
    She hadn’t backed down the driveway. Instead, with the engine still running, she took her gloved hands off the steering wheel and crossed her arms over her chest. “Yes, it sounds