Rescuing Christmas: Holiday Haven / Home for Christmas / A Puppy for Will

“Not really. I was hoping—”

“Hang on. Let me check with Tansy.” Faye put him on hold and he listened to “Jingle Bells” sung by barking dogs and meowing cats. It made him smile.

“Ben?” Tansy’s voice wiped the smile right off his face and jacked up his heart rate.

“Hi. I bought these two cat trees, and I—”

“Faye told me, and we really appreciate that.”

He wished she’d said I instead of we. It was a subtle but telling difference.

“Listen,” she continued, “I don’t blame you for not wanting to interrupt your Saturday again, so let’s—”

“It’s not that.” Great. Now she thought he was worried about cutting into his weekend. “I just figured the sooner the cats have them, the better.”

“Well, that’s obviously true. They love having new furniture to explore, and we could really use one out in the portable. Anyway, I can take your delivery. That’s one of the advantages of living right next door. Give me a call when you’re on your way and I’ll come meet you. How big are they?”

“About four feet tall and a couple of feet square. I can carry them. Don’t worry about getting help to unload the things. If you want, I can even cart them out back.”

“Thanks, but that won’t be necessary.”

Ouch. She really didn’t like him anymore. He couldn’t blame her, but he wanted the other Tansy back, the one with sunshine in her eyes and a smile on her full lips. But to get that, he’d have to do more than buy a couple of cat trees. After she gave him her cell number, they ended the call.

His heart was still beating faster than normal as he put his phone on vibrate and tucked it into his jeans pocket. Even when she was frosty, she still affected him. The strong attraction was damned inconvenient. Why couldn’t he feel this way about one of the women going on the ski trip?

But he didn’t. His buddy, Justin, had brought him into the group. They were an ever-shifting singles group of six to ten members tied together by their work at the station and a love of outdoor sports. They skied in the winter and enjoyed water sports and hiking in the summer.

One of the women, a good-looking brunette named Janine who worked in the advertising department, had hinted that she’d like to be more than friends with him. Because he valued her friendship, he’d told her gently but firmly that he thought of her as a sister and nothing more. The chemistry wasn’t there for him.

Apparently he was like Max. He had his preference, and no one else would do. Tansy was it. Now that he’d experienced the bright sparkle of her personality, other women seemed colorless.

It couldn’t develop into anything, of course. But he liked knowing that she existed, that she was here in Tacoma, even if they couldn’t be close friends. Thinking of her might be frustrating sometimes, but her very presence in the world gave him joy.

A little after six, he picked up both cat trees from the pet store, wrapped a blue tarp around them and tied it down. The air was wet, misty and cold, but fortunately the hard rain that had fallen during the afternoon had stopped. After climbing back into his truck, he called Tansy.

She picked up immediately. “Hi, Ben. I forgot you were coming.”

That was a blow to his ego. “Is it still all right? I already have the cat trees in the back of my truck.”

“Sure, it’s fine. Come on ahead. I’m in the Doggie Digs mopping, and I need to get that done, so if you wouldn’t mind, could you walk down here instead of having me meet you in the office?”

“Mopping? That part of your regular cleanup?”

“Unfortunately not. We have a leak that’s only getting worse. One of our volunteers crawled up on the roof late this afternoon and put plastic down, so it’s temporarily handled, but there’s still a lot of water on the floor.”

“Didn’t anybody stay to help you mop?”

“They all offered, but it’s the Christmas season. Everybody had either parties or relatives visiting or shopping to do, and I sent them home. I can handle it.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Ben, you don’t have to help.”

“But I will. See you soon.” He disconnected and started up the truck. She might not welcome his help, but she was going to get it anyway. He wasn’t about to drop off the cat trees and leave when she had a crisis. That wasn’t his style.

But helping her tonight wasn’t the only issue. Roof leaks were common in a wet climate. If she didn’t have insurance to cover repairs…this was not good news for Tansy’s already tight budget, not good news at all.

CHAPTER FIVE

TANSY HADN’T EXPECTED to see Ben again, so when he’d called about the cat trees, she’d had to deal with a rush of unwanted excitement. She’d forgotten that he’d taken one of the angel cards when he’d come in that Saturday morning.

She’d wondered if following through on that gesture had simply been an inconvenience for him. Maybe it was, but he’d been generous enough to get two cat trees instead of the single one listed on the angel card. Or had he gotten an extra one to soothe his guilty conscience?

Now, as she mopped up the worst of the puddles, she talked to the four dogs that had temporarily been housed together. The pie-shaped enclosures had side walls about three-and-a-half feet high with chain link above that, so the bigger dogs could put their paws on the top of the wall and look over at their neighbors. Currently all four dogs were watching her mop.

The yellow Lab and Irish setter had always been roommates in this section, but for the moment they shared the space with a husky and a black Lab. The setter, whose name was Bailey, was the only one whining. The rest seemed merely curious about what she was doing. Talking calmed Bailey, but it also helped Tansy sort through her uncomfortable thoughts.

“I screwed up, guys,” she said. “If Ben has a guilty conscience, it’s my fault.”

The yellow Lab named Nugget barked once as if agreeing with her.

“Exactly, Nugget. You never want to bully someone into taking a furry friend home. They could resent being talked into something they weren’t ready to do.”

The black Lab sneezed.

“Bless you, Charcoal. Anyway, there’s no excuse for the way I acted. Maybe Ben has a wonderful way with animals, and maybe I have a little crush on him and wish he’d change his mind about adopting. I’d hoped it would help him deal with the pain in his past. But none of that gives me the right to suggest he has an obligation to take Max home for the holidays.”

Squeezing out her mop, she slapped it back down on the floor. “My one little word of sorry doesn’t cut it. Now that he’s on his way here, I’ll grab this opportunity to tell him I was out of line. It won’t be easy, but I’ll make myself do it.”

“Anybody home?”

Awareness skittered up her spine at the sound of his voice. The dogs barked in response, so she had to shout. “In here!” Leaning the mop handle against the wall, she walked through the door of the pen into the center section and nearly collided with Ben. She quickly stepped back and staggered.

“Easy.” Ben caught her, his gloved hands firm as they gripped her arms.

“Thanks.” She gazed into dark eyes that had the power to make her forget her own name. Wow, he was as gorgeous as ever. Same sheepskin coat and brown felt cowboy hat. He rocked that look.

“No problem.” He held on to her a little longer than was necessary. Then he let go and moved away. “Got another mop?”

“Ben, you really don’t have to help me with the floor. I can take a break from this and open up the Kitty Condo so we can put the cat trees in there and you can be on your way.”

He went very still. “Do you want me to be on my way?”

No. “I hate to hold you up. I’m sure you have things you’d rather do than help me mop the floor.”

He tipped back his hat and regarded her steadily. “Actually, I don’t. But last time we talked, you were upset with me. Maybe you’d prefer that I drop off my donations and leave.”

“No, I would not prefer that.” She took a deep breath. Now or never. “I had no right to be upset with you. And I had no right to put pressure on you to take Max for the holidays. I violated my own rule by doing that, and I hope you’ll forgive me. It was inexcusable.”

His expression relaxed. “Not inexcusable,” he said. “You adore these animals. You love Max and want the best for him. You saw a chance for him to bond with someone, and you wanted to encourage it.”

“Loading you up with guilt in the process.”

“No, I don’t feel guilty, Tansy. I’m only sorry that I’m not the ideal match you and Max think I am.”

“Me, too.” She wondered if he realized that statement could apply to her as well as Max. Probably not. He didn’t know Rose had once had high hopes for a romance between them.

“Friends?”

She nodded. “Friends.”

“And friends don’t let friends mop alone.” He shoved his gloves in the pocket of his coat before unbuttoning it. “Where can I put my coat?”

“I’ll take it.” She smiled as a weight lifted off her heart. She’d apologized and he’d been more than gracious. Maybe they could be friends, after all. “You can have my mop and I’ll get another one from the storeroom.” She took his coat, which was still warm. To her credit, she didn’t hug it close, but she did take some guilty enjoyment in appreciating the snug fit of the long-sleeved T-shirt he had on underneath.

“Might as well give you my hat, too.” He took it off and handed it to her.

“Be right back.” She hurried into the octagonal space that mirrored the one in the Kitty Condo, except this one was bigger and had one whole wall devoted to leashes. Two raised dog beds plus food and water dishes sat in a corner, waiting until the mopping was finished to be put back in their rightful places.

Tansy hung Ben’s coat and hat on a hook next to where she’d left her own parka. Before she walked away, she held the soft sheepskin to her nose and inhaled. Ahhh.

Visually he was a beautiful man, but she’d always been sensitive to scent. A man could look like a Greek god, but if he didn’t appeal to her nose, she wasn’t attracted to him. Ben passed the scent test with Max, apparently, but he passed it with her, too.

Grabbing another mop from the storeroom, she headed back into the flooded area. Moments later they were working side by side as they attacked the remaining puddles.

He mopped with long, sure strokes. “When did you find the leak?”

“This morning when we opened up.” She resisted the urge to watch him instead of working. Concentrating on the floor was a challenge when the alternative was ogling the shift of his muscles as he wielded the mop. “When Rose reported it, we didn’t think it was too bad, but in the afternoon, when it rained harder, the leak got worse.” She glanced up at the stained ceiling. “The plastic seems to be holding the water at bay for now, but I’ve asked a roofer to come out tomorrow and give us an estimate.”

“Insurance?”

“We have it, but last year I raised the deductible to lower our monthly bill and help keep us in the black. Obviously that was a mistake.”

“Do you have enough to pay the deductible?”

She sighed. “No, we don’t. And I can’t dip into the money earmarked for the second Kitty Condo. We’ve almost hit our goal, which the station will announce very soon, and donors will expect to see the building go up.”

“And I guess you can’t suddenly announce another fund-raiser for the roof.”

“It’s Christmas, and people have already been more than generous. I can’t go back to them again so soon. This is just a bit of bad luck. I’ll figure something out.”

She just had no idea what that could be. What if she couldn’t find the money? What if the shelter went bankrupt, the animals became homeless…and it was all her fault?

“I’m sure you will. I just wish I could help.”

She couldn’t ask for what she really needed—to be held. In her fantasy, he’d put down the mop, wrap her in his strong arms and cradle her against his chest while he smoothed her hair and told her everything would be all right.

“You did help,” she said. “You took some great pictures that are making our Facebook page and website shine. I’ve had so many compliments on those photos, Ben. Contributions through Facebook and the site for the Kitty Condo are definitely ahead of where they were before I added your pictures.”

“Good.”

From the other side of the wall, Bailey whined and shoved his nose against the mesh.

“Almost done, Bailey.”

“Yeah,” Ben said. “I think we’ve got it handled. If you’ll take the mops, I’ll empty the bucket.”

“Thanks. We’ll need to move those beds and their food and water dishes back in here before we transfer the dogs.”

“No problem.” He sounded cheerful, as if he might even be having a good time.

They were finally able to return Bailey and Nugget to their rightful spot, and Ben was a hands-on helper, petting all the dogs and talking to them as if they were his buddies. The husky, Yukon, seemed especially taken with Ben, but all of them responded with wagging tails and doggie smiles.

The longer Tansy observed Ben’s behavior at the shelter, the more she became convinced that all Ben needed was a chance to hang around animals for a while and get past his fear of becoming attached. He might be a lot tougher about such things than he gave himself credit for.

Ben was in an excellent mood as they put on their coats and headed into the misty night air. “Here’s my thought,” he said. “I’ll unload the first cat tree while you open up the Kitty Condo. Once we’ve got them in place, I’ll take you to dinner.”

“All of that sounds good except the last part.”

He paused on the sidewalk and stared at her. “You’re refusing my dinner invitation? I thought we’d signed a peace treaty.”

“We have, but I don’t think it’s fair for the guy who brought over two cat trees and helped me mop the floor to also buy me dinner. I have some homemade veggie soup and a loaf of homemade bread at my house. Why don’t you come over?”

He hesitated for a fraction of a second. Then he smiled. “Sounds perfect.”

She caught her breath. She’d been doing fine, keeping her balance and congratulating herself on how well this friendship thing was working, until he smiled. Just like that, she became a molten mass of hormones. And she’d just invited him to share an intimate dinner in the privacy of her home. What had she been thinking?

BEN HADN’T EXPECTED his dinner invitation to become something even cozier than a shared table at a restaurant. He’d taken a chance offering that, but she’d had a tough day and it had seemed like the right gesture. A friendly thing to do.

Sharing a meal in her house was riskier, and for a brief moment, fear of that type of intimacy had made him hesitate. Then he’d decided it wasn’t a romantic gesture on her part. She wasn’t a temporary fling kind of woman, and she’d definitely avoid getting involved with a guy who’d declared he wouldn’t be adopting any animals.

They were friends, nothing more. He kept that firmly in mind as she exclaimed over the beauty of the cat trees he’d bought. Her appreciation felt great after all the time he’d spent agonizing over which to buy. She continued to rave about them as he carried each one into its designated space.

Anyone listening to her would have thought he’d brought her diamonds. Though he couldn’t imagine her getting this excited about mere jewelry. In fact, she’d probably hock it and put the money toward something for the animals.

When the second cat tree was settled in the portable building, they stood together and watched the cats adapt to their new climbing and scratching structure. Even though the cats had been through tough times, they were recovering their natural instinct to have fun. A few held back, but within minutes the carpet-covered towers were play central.

Ben laughed as a black cat chased a tabby in, out and around the tower. Then they reversed roles and the tabby became the aggressor until a calico joined in, making a three-way game of it.

“Wish I’d brought my camera.”

“I think that all the time, but even when I do remember to bring my camera, the results aren’t as good as yours.” Tansy stood beside him, her expression animated, her eyes bright with pleasure. She’d left her parka on, but it was unzipped.

He was resigned to having her as a friend and nothing more, so he shouldn’t notice how her red turtleneck sweater hugged her breasts. But he did. He shouldn’t have watched her during the mopping session, either, but he had. The fit of her jeans had affected the fit of his.

He wasn’t sure how he’d deal with his response to her when they were tucked inside her little blue Victorian house. He’d have to leave early if he found himself wanting to act on his feelings.

For now, though, he chose to make conversation and pretend that he could ignore the urge to kiss her.

“I really can teach you how to take good pictures,” he said. “It’s not that tricky.”

She glanced over at him. “I’m not sure I believe you. Some people are talented in one thing and some in another. I have an affinity for animals. You’re a genius with a camera.”

“Thanks for boosting my ego, but I’m no genius, Tansy. It’s a skill like any other. It can be learned.”

“I’m sure it can, but those who are gifted will always do a better job than those who aren’t. I know my limits.” She paused, her gaze tentative, her body language hesitant. “Maybe you would…no, that’s asking too much.” She looked away.

“You can’t leave me dangling like that. Tell me what you started to say.”

“Okay, but it’s fine if you say no. We’ll still be friends.”

“Tansy.”

“Would you consider volunteering to be our official photographer?”

His pulse leaped. Volunteering to take pictures for the shelter would mean he’d see her on a regular basis. His heart wanted to, but his brain said it was a bad idea. “It’s a thought.”

“Never mind. It would be an imposition. I’d offer to pay you, but as you know, money’s in short supply.”

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t do it.”

“But you didn’t jump at the idea, either. I’m sure it’s a lot to ask.”

It was, but not for the reason she thought. He was already becoming too attached to the shelter and to her. And that led only to pain. Yet refusing to help because he was conflicted about their relationship seemed petty, especially when he was fascinated by the kaleidoscope of cats arranging and rearranging themselves.

He’d had fun capturing the changing expressions on the faces of the dogs. But his photographer’s soul belonged to the cats. They were art in motion, a feline version of Cirque du Soleil. They begged to be photographed, and good pictures would go far to getting them new homes. Fortunately, it wouldn’t take any emotional involvement on his part. He was a professional; he knew how to keep his distance from his subjects.

He took a deep breath. “I’d be honored to be your official photographer.”

She turned to him, her eyes shining. “Oh, Ben, that’s so awesome. The cat trees are wonderful, and I would never want to discourage you from donating such things, but you have a skill that no one on our staff has. Eventually the pictures on the website and on Facebook will be dated as the animals are adopted. We need to give the newcomers their fifteen seconds of fame.”

“I’ll take care of that. But I’m still buying more cat trees when the new Kitty Condo goes up. These things are amazing.”

“And I’ll happily accept them. Oh, look! Casper’s stalking the others. Too cute.”

He’d noticed that she called each cat by name, and she’d done that with the dogs, too. “You have so many animals at The Haven. How do you remember who’s who?”

“That’s part of my talent, just like knowing how to frame a shot is part of yours.”

He nodded. “Point taken.” He continued to stand there, and the urge to cup the back of her head and taste her mouth became stronger. They needed to move on. “Anything else we should do?”

“Oh!” She turned to him. “I’m so sorry. I could stand here for hours watching the cats play, but you must be starving.”

“Hey, I understand. When I’m shooting something that fascinates me, a bomb could go off and I wouldn’t notice.” He’d had that reaction the morning of her TV appearance, but he decided not to mention it. He didn’t want to upset the delicate balance they’d achieved.

“Nevertheless, I promised to feed you, and it’s past time to honor that promise. Let’s go.”

He wasn’t about to argue with her. He’d eaten a quick lunch on the fly because he’d been buying cat trees, and food sounded great right now. Maybe a filling meal would curb his appetite for other things, things he shouldn’t be hungry for.

CHAPTER SIX

EVERY CHRISTMAS SEASON, Tansy anticipated that special moment when she felt the spirit of the holidays for the first time. As she and Ben walked through the parking lot toward the flagstone path connecting the administration building to her house, their breath fogged the air. They talked about the resilience of the cats who’d been taken from the hoarding situation, and the great photo ops that would be possible with so many fascinating subjects.

Fat snowflakes drifted down, sparkling in the white lights outlining the yellow Victorian and settling like bits of lace on Ben’s hat and coat. Tansy glanced over at her house, where she’d strung tiny multicolored LEDs along her porch railing and placed a small decorated tree on each side of her front door.

Both houses looked festive and ready to celebrate. The crisp scent of damp evergreens hung in the air. As a delicate snowflake landed on her cheek like a kiss, a rush of joy told her that once again, Christmas had arrived in her heart.

“It feels like Christmas,” she said.

Ben laughed. “Is that all it takes? A couple of cat trees?”

“No, I wasn’t thinking of the donation you made, which is wonderful. It’s the combination of the snow, And the Christmas lights….” And you walking beside me. But she wasn’t about to say that, so she improvised. “And how generous everyone has been to The Haven. All of a sudden the Christmas spirit hit me like an incoming snowball.”

“That’s great.” His tone was wistful. “I envy you.”

She wasn’t sure how to respond to that. “Hey, it’s only the middle of December. You have lots of time to get in the mood.”

“Not everybody gets in the mood, you know.”

She hesitated. “You don’t?”

“No.”

“Not ever?”

“Can’t say that I have.”

She thought she should drop the subject because it seemed to be a touchy one, so she remained silent.

“The thing is…”

“Mmm?” She didn’t even want to use an actual word to prompt him, for fear he’d clam up completely. She sensed that whatever he’d started to say wasn’t something he mentioned to many people. Maybe not to anyone.

He sighed. “Never mind.”

He’d retreated. His behavior reminded her of animals who’d come from bad situations and were afraid to trust. She let the silence stretch between them and figured that was the end of his willingness to share something personal. Then, to her amazement, he spoke again.

“I think you have to have a store of good Christmas memories to draw on from when you’re young.” He cleared his throat. “That’s how I think you get the Christmas spirit, tapping into that.”

Her heart ached for him, but she kept her voice light. “I’ve never looked at it that way, but that could be true.” What had his childhood been like, that he had no happy memories of Christmas? More than anyone she knew, this man needed the unconditional love of an animal…or a person.

She led the way up her porch steps and reached for the front door latch.

“You don’t lock it?”