Page 34 of The Christmas Keepsake
Dots began bouncing along the screen.
Mallory:She’d be proud of you too, Hol. And she would have put Esther in her place if she’d been there.
Hollis:You think so?
Mallory:I know. I’m not letting you back out of the play. You’re the kind of guy who sticks to his word. I’m holding you to that.
Hollis was honored that she would think that highly of him. He tapped out another text.
Hollis:Ho, ho, ho.
Mallory:That’s better. See you tomorrow night.
Hollis:I’ll be there. Hey? I have a question.
He’d heard something from Mallory’s brother-in-law, Sam, who sometimes helped out with the deliveries on the farm. He hoped it was a false rumor, but considering the source was Mallory’s own sister, he doubted it.
Hollis:Are you really considering selling the theater?
There was a delay in Mallory’s response, and Hollis realized hewas holding his breath. Was she really considering such a drastic change?
Mallory:I can’t work extra shifts indefinitely to keep Nan at Memory Oaks. And I’m a nurse, not a theater director. Maddie thinks it might be best.
Hollis’s heart broke at the thought, but he understood. His main concern was what was best for Mallory. What would make her happiest?
Hollis:If that’s what you decide, I’ll help you in any way I can.
Mallory:You really are a lifesaver this holiday.
Hollis woke early the next morning to put in some extra training time with Buster before heading over to one of the current construction sites. December was usually an off month, but one of the guys had called out sick yesterday, leaving Matt and the crew scrambling to make their deadline. In Hollis’s experience, deadlines were like dominoes. Once you missed one, all the next scheduled jobs fell behind as well.
Hollis took a walk through the rows of trees with Buster off-leash. Buster had proven that Hollis could trust him not to go anywhere without his verbal okay. On the first couple walks, Hollis had rewarded Buster frequently and immediately, and he only made Buster walk a few minutes before allowing him to have freedom. Hollis was working on Buster’s self-control though. He could see in Buster’s alert eyes that he was eager to take off, chasing the wind. But he showed restraint, waiting for permission. “Good dog,” Hollis said, his words coming out with a puff of white air.
Hollis stopped walking and faced Buster. “Sit.”
Buster folded his body onto his hind legs, his gaze fixed on Hollis.
“Good boy,” Hollis said again. He didn’t need treats anymore.Buster would still get them, of course, but they weren’t required for Buster’s obedience. “Stay.” Hollis held up a hand before walking away from Buster, leaving the dog right where he was. When Buster started to return to all fours, Hollis gave another firm command. “Stay.”
Hollis waited a moment longer, wondering what was going through his foster dog’s mind.I’m not leaving you, buddy. Not anytime soon, at least.
“Come!” Hollis finally commanded, patting his hand to his thigh.
Buster took off toward him, practically flying into Hollis’s open arms as Hollis squatted to meet him.
“Good boy, good boy.” Hollis laughed at the dog’s attention. This time he reached inside his pocket and pulled out a treat. Straightening again, he nodded at Buster. “Run free!”
With a happy bark, Buster ran circles around Hollis before racing off to weave through the trees.
Hollis did one more training session with the dog before going inside the house to shower and get dressed for work. He added an extra layer of clothing because the weather had finally gotten the memo that it was December and the temperature had plunged accordingly.
Growing up the way he did, Christmastime had tended to be when Hollis acted out the most. In hindsight, he understood why. It was the season of hope, and the one thing he’d wanted most back then—a family—had seemed hopeless. He wished he could give the little boy he’d been a great big hug and tell that kid that things would work out. It would take until he was seventeen and nearly out of the system altogether, but the family he’d hoped and dreamed of every Christmas would finally welcome him in. Matt was the father figure he’d always dreamed of.
After locking up the house, Hollis climbed into his truck and sipped his coffee, noting the subtle layer of dread he felt facing a day of construction ahead. He didn’t love the work anymore. He was supposed to be done. It was going to be a difficult transition forMatt, but Hollis hoped that Matt would adjust and support him the way he always had.
Ten minutes later, gravel crunched under Hollis’s tires as he pulled up to the Maynard property. He parked beside a towering oak under an umbrella of branches, and then he pushed open his door and stepped out.
“It’s cold out here,” Matt said, walking toward Hollis, wearing a heavy jacket.
