The Target Read Online Free PDF

wife wouldn’t be cool for her to hear. He should never have begun this one. He cleared his throat.
    The words blurred as he said quietly, pretending still to read, “But he realized that he had another choice. His little girl was waiting at home for him. He loved her more thanhe loved himself, and that was saying something. In fact, he loved his little girl more than he’d loved anything or anyone in his life.”
    She was sitting very quietly beside him. That foot was still between them. He had no idea whether or not she was listening to him. At least she was warm. She was wearing one of his undershirts, a gray one with a V-neck, a cardigan sweater over it that nearly touched the floor, and the afghan pulled to her chin against the chill of the incessant rain and wind. He was getting better at braiding her hair. If she weren’t so very silent, perhaps with a small smile on her face, you could take her for any kid, sitting next to her dad, while he read her a story.
    But she wasn’t like any kid. Slowly, he looked back down at the book. He said with a feeling that was suddenly crystal clear and true inside him, “He wanted his little girl to know that she would always be safe with him. He would protect her and love her for as long as he lived. She was sweet and gentle and he knew she loved him. But she was scared and he understood that. She’d been through so much, too much for a little girl to have to bear. But she’d come through it. She was the bravest little girl he’d ever known. Yes, she’d survived it, and now she would be with him.
    â€œHe thought of the little mountain cabin in the Rockies with its meadow of brightly blooming columbine and Indian paintbrush. He knew she’d like it there. She’d be free and he’d hear her laugh again. It had been a long time since he’d heard her laugh. He walked into the house, saw her standing there by the kitchen door, holding a small stuffed monkey. She smiled at him and held out her arms.”
    He turned to her and very slowly, very lightly, touched his fingertips to her ear. “Do you have a stuffed animal?”
    She didn’t look at him, just kept staring straight ahead out the cabin windows, at the gray rain he wondered would ever stop. Then she nodded.
    â€œIs it a monkey?”
    She shook her head.
    â€œA dog?”
    She turned to him then and tears pooled in her eyes. She nodded.
    â€œIt’s all right. Hey, he’s not stuffed, is he? He’s a real dog? I promise, you’ll be back soon enough with your dog. What kind is he?”
    This time she reached over for the pen and paper he’d set on the table by the sofa the previous evening. This was the first time she’d paid any attention to it. He felt a leap of hope. She drew a dog with lots of spots on it.
    â€œA Dalmatian?”
    She nodded, then she smiled, a very small smile, but that’s what it was, a smile. She tugged at his sleeve. She actually touched him.
    â€œYou want the story to go on?”
    She nodded. She moved just a little bit closer to him and snuggled down into the afghan. He said, “Funny thing, she wanted a dog, but she loved her stuffed monkey more than anything. His name was Geek. He had very long arms and a silly brown hairy face. She took him everywhere with her. One day when she and her daddy were walking across their meadow in the mountains, they heard this loud sound. It was a milk delivery truck. ‘Why did it come up here on our mountain?’ the little girl asked her papa.
    â€œ ‘He’s bringing us our weekly milk supply,’ her father said. Sure enough there was milk in the truck, but what the man had really brought was a litter of puppies, all of them pure white. Soon the six puppies were yapping at each other and chasing each other around the meadow, hiding in among the flowers, rolling over on their backs, all in all having a wonderful time.
    â€œBut Geek wasn’t