Annie's Rainbow - Fern Michaels [26]
“That would be so nice, Tom. Which bags are yours?”
“The two big gray ones. They have wheels. We can’t go yet. I have to wait for your present to come up. Stay here with the bags. I think I see it now.”
Annie craned her neck to see where her brother was going, but the heavy holiday traffic pushed and jostled her until she finally gave up. It would be like Tom to bring her an orange tree loaded with oranges. She sat down on top of the largest traveling bag to wait. When she felt a tap on her shoulder she turned.
“Merry Christmas, Annie,” Tom said, handing her a bright blue dog kennel.
“A dog! You got me a dog! Oh, Tom, how wonderful! Can I take him out? What’s his name?”
“Of course you can take him out. He’s yours. Rosie is her name. She’s the best of the best, Annie. Championship lines all the way. Now that you’re living alone, you need someone like Rosie here.”
“A German shepherd! Oh, she’s just gorgeous. I love her. I will love her forever and ever. Oh, Tom, this is just so wonderful of you.” Annie buried her face in the dog’s soft fur. She thought she could hear the dog purr her approval.
“You have to bond with her. That means you hold her close to your heart and snuggle with her. I didn’t handle her at all because I didn’t want to confuse her. Tell me where the car is, and I’ll get it. You stay here with the baggage and Princess Rosie. She’s six weeks and two days old. Do you really like her, Annie? You know, really like her?”
“How could I not, Tom. She’s adorable.”
“You can do anything you want. She’s your dog. Now, where’s the car?”
“It’s a Volvo station wagon. Dark green and parked in Row C, third one from the end. Here’s the key. Drag the bags outside, and I’ll carry the kennel. We’ll wait on the curb for you. Oh, look, she’s asleep.”
“She can feel your heart beat so she feels safe with you,” Tom said.
“How’d you learn so much about dogs? We always had cats.”
“I got a crash course last night. I found this dog in a little less than three hours and still made it to the airport. I have books in my baggage on what to do and not do. The breeder said you need to read them. All of them,” he said ominously.
“Okay,” Annie said, nuzzling the dog. This time she thought she heard the puppy sigh. Suddenly her world felt right side up. Tom was here and bygones would now be bygones. She wouldn’t be alone anymore, and now she would have someone to love. Someone to love her back. “You can’t take Mom’s place but you’ll do,” she whispered into the puppy’s ear. “This is going to be the best Christmas ever.”
Annie set the table as the new pup tweaked her ankles and shoes. She was everywhere, but always within sight, curious and devilish as she explored every inch of the old house.
“Okay, big gal, let’s go for a stroll in the garden. We don’t want any messes when company gets here. Go get your leash. That’s a good girl,” Annie praised, as Rosie brought her a frayed and tattered string that had once been a leash. “Guess it’s a chain from now on. We do not chew our leashes. Is that understood?”
The shepherd sat up on her haunches, her ears straight as arrows as she stared at her mistress. Her bark was deep and joyful at the prospect of an outing.
Annie walked the dog through the garden. “You know, Rosie, I bought this house because of the garden. I saw myself sitting out here on one of those old Charleston rockers, reading and sipping lemonade. I bet that angel oak is at least three hundred years old if it’s a day. When you get a little bigger you’re going to love lying under it. It stays green all year long, so on sunny days we can come out here to contemplate the conditions of the world and my deep, dark secret that suddenly doesn’t seem so deep and dark. Of course that just means I’m in denial.”
Annie eyed the ancient wooden gate with the stout padlock. No one could get