C.J. Carmichael

Christmas with Daddy


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in the woods. He pointed out a bird’s nest exposed in a winter-bare tree, a chattering squirrel, rabbit tracks in the snow. Though she couldn’t possibly understand, Mandy seemed to love it when he explained all this to her. She soaked in every new experience, waving her arms and babbling.

      The off-leash route circled back to their starting point and as he was merging onto the main path, he heard dogs barking, then a sharp whistle. He turned and saw the neighborhood dog-sitter, Bridget Humphrey, emerging from a curve in the path, with her pack of four dogs. She bent to pluck something from the graying Airedale’s leg.

      “Poor Stanley. Why do you always find the burrs? Stand still for a minute. There’s a good boy.”

      As she dealt with Stanley’s coat, three other dogs—a boxer, a white terrier and a giant schnauzer—circled her. When she was finished with Stanley, she clipped him back on the lead, then called the boxer closer.

      He watched, impressed as always with the quiet authority she held over the dogs. He’d met Bridget on moving day when she’d brought over cookies to welcome him to the neighborhood. “We’ll get along fine,” she said, “as long as you don’t mind dogs.”

      He loved dogs. Always had. One day he was going to break down and buy one himself. Bridget had already promised to make room in her doggy day care when he did.

      Sometimes, when he happened upon Bridget and the dogs at the park, he walked along with them for a while. He enjoyed throwing sticks for them in the off-leash area and tussling on the grass when the weather was fine.

      Bridget was just reaching for the collar of the schnauzer—Nick’s favorite—when Herman spotted Nick. He gave one sharp bark of recognition, then set off running.

      “Herman, stop!” Bridget called. Immediately the big gray dog jerked to a halt. He glanced over his shoulder at Bridget, then longingly toward Nick.

      Nick had already positioned himself between the dogs and his daughter. He’d seen them with kids before, knew they were gentle and well trained, but he wasn’t taking chances.

      Three seconds later, Bridget and the other dogs caught up to Herman. Bridget snapped the schnauzer onto the lead. “Sorry, Nick.” She sounded breathless. “I should have put them back on leash sooner.”

      “No harm done.” He held out a hand so the dogs could sniff. As he gave each dog a bit of attention, Bridget went to say hello to Mandy. His daughter was squirming with excitement.

      “Can I take Mandy out of the stroller for a minute?”

      “Sure.” Herman nuzzled his hand, demanding more scratch time. As Nick complied, Bridget swung Mandy in the air, making her laugh.

      “Oh, she’s a sweetie, Nick. She wants to pet the dogs. Should I let her?”

      “Sure.”

      Lefty, a sweet boxer who especially loved kids, approached and licked her little fingers. Mandy giggled.

      “I think I’ve got a dog-lover on my hands,” Nick said.

      “Just like her dad.” Bridget pushed her sunglasses up on her head and smiled at him.

      He didn’t often get a look at Bridget’s eyes because she usually wore sunglasses. But when he did he was always startled that such a nondescript woman should have such gorgeous eyes. They were large and vibrantly green, like new leaves in the spring. Most intriguing of all, they slanted up at the edges, giving her ordinary face a mysterious allure.

      “Not to be nosy,” she said, “but why aren’t you at work?”

      “I booked the day off. My ex left for Australia today.”

      “Really? That’s a big trip.”

      “Yeah, and she’s going to be gone for three weeks.” Which reminded him of his number-one problem. “Do you know of any good day cares in our neighborhood?”

      “Sunny’s Day Care is the best. But she has a six-month waiting list.”

      “Cripes. Any other suggestions?”

      “What about your mom?”

      “She’s great with Mandy for an hour or two, but a whole day is out of the question. Have you heard about any other day cares?”

      “Most of the good ones have waiting lists. Even I have a waiting list for new dogs.”

      “Yeah? How about babies? I don’t suppose you could take on one of those?”

      “You’re not serious?”

      “I don’t know about serious. I am desperate, though.”

      She bit her bottom lip. Was she actually considering saying yes?

      “I’d pay you well. And it’s only for three weeks.” He hesitated, suddenly wondering if she could handle the job. Babies were a bit more complicated than dogs. “Have you looked after a baby before?”

      “I worked at a day care one summer when I was in college,” she offered reluctantly.

      So she was experienced. Even better. “I’ll pay you double the going rate.”

      “Mandy’s a sweetheart, Nick, but these guys keep me pretty busy.” She gave the end of her leash a gentle tug. “Plus I have my business appointments, too.”

      The dogs were really a sideline with Bridget. Her main occupation was as a numerology and astrology consultant. He had a hard time taking that stuff seriously, but he knew she did. Generally avoiding the subject seemed to work best.

      “Mandy wouldn’t be that much trouble. Plus, she loves going on walks. You can take her with the dogs. She’ll fit right in.”

      “I’m sure she wouldn’t be trouble, but…”

      “Besides, couldn’t you use some extra cash for Christmas? For gifts and things?”

      “I don’t need extra money.”

      “You’re not giving me much to bargain with.” If she was any other woman, he might try charming her with a smile, but he couldn’t see that approach working with Bridget. Every now and then he came across a woman who was impervious to his brand of sex appeal. From their first meeting his instincts had told him that Bridget was one of those women.

      Still, he had to come up with something. He was due at the station tomorrow at eight in the morning. And he didn’t think his partner was expecting him to bring along his six-month-old daughter.

       CHAPTER TWO

      NICK GRAY WAS THE KIND of guy smart mothers warned their daughters about. After five years of living in the same neighborhood, Bridget had seen him with so many different women, she’d given up asking their names. In the historical novels she loved, he was the rake, the ne’er-do-well but handsome younger brother, the favorite son who always disappointed his father but was the apple of his mother’s eye.

      Sometimes when Bridget looked at him, she felt a crazy, unfamiliar excitement. He made her aware of possibilities that she would never normally consider. Possibilities that were neither safe nor sensible.

      It only took a few seconds for her to shake off that feeling, though. Nick was drawn to glamour, sophistication and style. The women he dated turned heads on the sidewalk. And not because they had four dogs in tow.

      Just as well she wasn’t Nick’s type. She’d never been one for flirting and casual dating. Whereas even Nick’s relationship with the woman he’d married had lasted less than a year.

      It was an appalling record, and she ought to think less of Nick for it. But she couldn’t help liking him, despite his rather obvious character flaws. Someone who loved dogs as much as he did, couldn’t be all bad.

      He had a special affinity for her giant schnauzer Herman. Aptly named, Herman was solid, dependable, unstoppable when he wanted something.