Page 269 of A Merry Mountain Christmas

Jack’s mouth dropped open. “What?”

“Your job is done. You delivered her safe and sound,” Maisie said, then made a shooing motion. “Now it’s my turn. And not to worry. I’ll keep her safe and sound.” She shot him a mischievous grin. “Probably.”

Jack hesitated, and Maisie laughed. “She’ll be fine. I promise. Actually, don’t worry about coming back to get her. I’ve got to pick up Addy at your place for our girls’ night with Blue, so I can drop her off.”

Once again Jack hesitated, long enough for Iris to groan. “Jack.”

But it wasn’t the kind of groan she’d been making for the past month. She sounded more like the girl he’d known for seventeen years, not the pod person who’d shown up in her place.

“Okay,” Maisie said. “Off with you.”

“Okay…” He took a few steps backward, telling himself he was being ridiculous, but if he were honest with himself, he’d hoped to spend more time with Maisie. Sure, he couldn’t pursue a relationship with her now, but he still hoped there was a chance for them in the future. Was it wrong to want an excuse to see her? Was it fair to either of them?

He gave Iris a soft smile, but she was already opening Pete’s kennel to walk in. He caught Maisie’s eye instead. He had trouble reading the look she was giving him, but at least she didn’t seem pissed that he’d turned her down—or sort of turned her down—at Thanksgiving. He thought maybe she understood. And for now, maybe that was the best he could hope for.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Iris was different here. The dogs brought her to life in a way the madness of a Buchanan family gathering hadn’t. And Maisie respected that. The dogs brought her to life too. She’d known that ever since Einstein had pawed at her leg, dirty and starving, beaten down by life. Helping him had given her purpose when she’d desperately needed it.

She’d let Iris show herself around mostly, recognizing that she wasn’t the kind of girl who liked being corralled, something else she appreciated, but toward the end of their time together, she herded her over to the sink next to the windows at the far end of the kennels.

“Is this where the cleaning part comes in?” Iris asked, her tone making it clear she was less than excited by the thought.

“Only for our hands. I want to introduce you to someone.”

She expected some sort of smart comment, but Iris just nodded, glancing back at Chewbacca, the part-chow, part-Chihuahua, all teddy bear dog they’d taken in a week ago.

“You’re a fan of Chewie?” Maisie said, scrubbing her hands. She pulled back, leaving the sink for Iris, who shrugged.

“He’s all right, I guess.” But the sparkle in her eyes said she thought he was a whole lot more than that. And if sheweren’t already living with a dog and a hell cat, Maisie would have contemplated surprising Jack with another dog. He hadn’t reacted so badly last time, had he? There was something sweet in the way he’d left the decision to Adalia—like maybe he knew how much she needed Tyrion, and vice versa, even though he’d been halfway across the country.

After Iris had washed her hands too, Maisie led her out of the kennel and down the hall, Dustin waving jauntily at them from the front desk. He’d volunteered so much Maisie had taken him on full-time as her volunteer coordinator-slash-jack-of-all-trades. A financial crunch when they were already hurting, but she’d needed the steady help, and retiree or not, he’d made it clear he wanted to be here. Privately, she thought he enjoyed talking to the visitors as much as he liked the dogs, but she was okay with that.Shedidn’t feel that way, and someone had to make nice, especially with people who came in to surrender pets. Her other full-time employee, Beatrice, wasn’t much for making nice either.

She waved back to Dustin, biting her lip to hold back a laugh when he winked at Iris. She didn’t need to glance sideways to imagine the teen’s look of horror. Dustin was technically Iris’s boss, but Maisie felt no need to point that out. Because she’d decided to take Iris under her own wing.

She told herself it had nothing to do with Jack, and that was partly true—she saw herself in Iris, and she saw Molly in her too—but partly true wasn’t the same thing as totally true. She’d sent him away earlier because Iris had needed him to leave. If it had been up to her, she would have kept him around. If it had been up to her, she would have led him into the playroom and locked the door behind them.

Then again, Jack had made it very clear that nothing more could happen between them, and he was right—not just becauseof Iris, but because of the whole screwed-up River and Georgie wedding situation.

She’d video-chatted with her sisters again after Thanksgiving, and while Mary had essentially gaped in horror the whole time, Molly had laughed so hard she’d peed a little in her yoga pants. She’d also recorded the whole thing, insisting she wanted to write about it for her blog (with all the identifying details changed).

“Don’t you work for a dating blog?” she’d asked.

“Oh, some things are universally funny,” her sister had said. “No one would mind. Plus, Datesgiving was a huge hit. Especially that guy who brought a wishbone and insisted I break it with him, then carried his half around in his pocket all night.” A sly look had crossed her face. “Besides, you and Jackaresort of involved.”

“Is that why he cringed when I grabbed his thigh?” Of course, that wasn’t entirely true, but the outcome was the same. “You just need to accept it’s not going to happen. And so do I. It’s for the best anyway. I need to get through this wedding before I can move on.”

Mary was the one who’d responded to that, shaking her head slowly. “Maisie, Mom would have told you that you can move on any damn time you choose.”

Which was maybe the first time she’d heard her sister say “damn.”

Shaking the thoughts away, Maisie led Iris to the back office and knocked twice.

“Dustin, for the love of God, I do not want one of your stinky cheese Danishes. I do not care that someone’s filming a movie in Sylva, and I definitely don’t care that you’re wearing mismatching day-of-the-week socks. Now leave me in peace so I can crunch some numbers.”

The corners of Iris’s mouth twitched in a would-be smile, and Maisie smiled back and opened the door.

“It’s me, Beatrice.”

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