A Family Under the Christmas Tree (3 page)

Pure panic gripped David. All sorts of horrible scenarios played through his head. “Oh, Dear Father in Heaven, please don't let anything happen to him.” The prayer slipped out, surprising him. He wasn't really sure where he stood with God, but he'd been raised to believe. Apparently in a crisis, default mode was to turn to Him.

He jumped to his feet, grabbed his and Troy's jackets, and chased after his nephew.

S
ophie clicked a leash to Riggs's collar. She was dressed for the rain with mud boots, waterproof pants, and a raincoat over a warm sweater. She knew better than to come to the Pacific Northwest in December unprepared. “Come on, dog. We're going to let Grandma rest.”

Grandma had settled in a recliner by the fire, her feet up and a blanket covering her. A book lay open in her lap but her eyes were closed. Sophie smiled with tender affection.

After a filling breakfast and some Christmas planning—­decorating the house, shopping online for the family, and recipes to make for their holiday dinner—Grandma had taken to her chair while Sophie finished unpacking her things into the guest room. Not much had changed in the house since her childhood. The same green comforter covered the trundle bed. The same lace curtains, yellowed with age, hung over the window that looked out on the small backyard.

The hallway was lined with framed photographs, starting with black-and-white images of her grandparents from back when they were first married and moving through time with each subsequent picture. It was like watching her family's lives unfold.

Sophie touched the images of her grandfather with fond remembrance. He'd been a big man with a large laugh. If she closed her eyes and listened she could hear the echo of his laughter filling the house.

In the living room, the knickknacks Sophie had played with as a child still sat on the shelves of the hutch in the corner. She'd liked to pretend the blue glass swan was a princess in disguise and the ceramic farm animal figurines were trying to help the princess find her way home.

The mantel clock softly ticked away the time. Warmth from the fire filled the house, and the hint of Grandma's gardenia perfume teased Sophie's nose. The smell brought back memories of curling up under the orange afghan on the couch and watching old movies with her grandparents.

She was amazed by how happy she was to be here, to be back to the one place she'd always felt at home. And she was surprised by how much she was looking forward to spending Christmas here. She couldn't wait to get a Christmas tree and dig out the box of old ornaments that Grandma had said was packed away in the attic. They also planned to do some serious baking, something Sophie hadn't had time for in ages—let alone a place. She tended to spend most of her days and nights in hotel rooms on assignments that took her around the globe. Her small studio apartment in Burbank was more of a landing pad and staging area than an actual living space.

Riggs was pulling on the leash, so Sophie cast one more glance back at Grandma and saw that she was sleeping. Then she
followed behind as Riggs tugged the leash all the way toward the door. Sophie figured a little exercise and fresh air would do her and the dog good. Though Riggs wouldn't be getting the same type of workout he'd had yesterday with the neighbor's nephew. What a cute kid!

And his uncle was pretty cute, too. Tall, broad-shouldered, and dark-haired. The stuff of girlhood dreams. Okay, maybe some adult dreams, too. She couldn't stop thinking about the flare of interest she'd seen in his eyes or the stirring of attraction she'd felt.

Not that it meant anything.

She probably wouldn't even see David again while she was here. Well, maybe in passing. A friendly wave. A Christmas greeting. Nothing more.

Getting involved was not on her agenda. Her focus while in Washington was to get Grandma back on both feet. Then Sophie would be off on another job. Hopefully with a prestigious skiwear company, though she didn't want to get her hopes up. She'd had that particular dream quashed before.

But that was then. This time the company had come to her. Or rather her agent. She'd been pursuing jobs with them for a long time, and it looked like her career was finally starting to take. She wanted to be one of the top commercial photographers in the country, and she had worked very hard to get there.

And she'd learned from painful experience that pursuing her dream didn't line up well with romantic relationships. Boyfriends tended not to like it when she was gone for weeks at a time. They got insecure when she was photographing some of the best-­looking men in the world. They didn't understand that just because she was traveling to exotic places, she was not on vacation. Better, she had discovered, to stay focused on what she could control. Men certainly were not on that list.

Riggs's
nails clicked on the hardwood floor as he danced with excitement at the prospect of going out for a walk. His long, bushy tail swept from side to side. He really was a handsome pup, all fluffy and very masculine. One could never mistake Riggs for a girl dog. His striking coloring and expressive face would photograph well.

Which reminded her . . .

“Stay put,” she said, and dashed back to her room to grab her camera from its case. She put a bright blue rain cover over the equipment for protection from the rain and then slipped the camera strap over her head and rested the camera against her chest.

After grabbing the ball thrower from the laundry room, Sophie tugged her rainhat over her ears, buttoned her coat, and opened the front door. A blast of cold rain greeted her. For half a second she contemplated aborting the idea of a walk, but Riggs rushed out the door, pulling her along with him. She held tight to the end of the leash as she shut the door behind her.

The dog stopped at the top of the steps to glance back at her as if to say
hurry up
. She tucked the ball thrower under her arm and snapped off a few shots of him with her camera. Was he smiling?

With a rueful laugh, she let Riggs take the lead and hurried to keep up.

“Do you know where you're going?” she asked him. He did seem to know the way to the wooded community park that she'd intended to take him to. The park had tennis courts, basketball hoops, a playground, and a dog off-leash area. They didn't encounter anyone as they walked through the neighborhood, but she was struck with a sense of nostalgia.

How many times had she and her brothers made this trek to the playground? Back then her grandparents had never been far
behind, always wanting to keep a watchful eye on their grandchildren.

There'd been other kids in the neighborhood who'd sometimes come out to play with the Griffith kids when they visited. Sophie wondered whatever happened to Amy Keen, a girl the same age as Sophie. Amy had had dark hair and a bright smile. They'd become fast friends and had promised to be friends forever. They'd stayed in touch until middle school.

Then Amy's letters had dried up and Sophie's cards had been returned stamped
NO LONGER AT THIS ADDRESS
. Grandma had said Mr. Keen had been transferred to a job overseas. The loss of Amy's friendship had stung.

Sophie and Riggs reached the park and entered the fenced-in, off-leash dog area. As Riggs sniffed around, Sophie stared across the street at the blue house on the corner that had once belonged to the Keens. Someone had hung lights and set up an inflatable snowman in the front yard.

The echo of a yearning she hadn't felt in a very long time throbbed in her chest. She'd enjoyed spending time with the Keens. They'd been a kind and loving family who had actually eaten dinner together.

That was unheard of in Sophie's life. Both of her parents had very demanding Hollywood careers that required long hours away from home. A string of nannies had attempted to fill the void over the years, but Sophie had always felt the lack of connection to her parents. Still did, if truth were told. Even though her parents had recently slowed down, they were strangers to her in many ways.

Riggs let out a short bark. He sat on his haunches and cocked his head at her, his eyes locked on the ball thrower. He was clearly waiting for her to pay attention to him.

She laughed and unleashed him. “Okay, you. We'll play until I'm too cold to throw the ball anymore.”

Thankfully, the rain had subsided to a misty drizzle. She threw the ball, and then quickly brought her camera up to capture action shots of Riggs as he whipped around and raced through the mud after the flying tennis ball. His paws flung mud and water everywhere.

Her heart beat with excitement. She knew she'd gotten some great shots that she could add to her portfolio. Riggs found the ball where it landed, and he loped back to her side to drop it at her feet. All the while she kept clicking away.

“Hmmm. Someone has trained you well.” She picked up the slobbery ball. “Ick.” She popped it back into the thrower and then wiped her hand on her coat. “Don't get used to this, dog. We're going to have to find you a new home after Christmas. Grandma can't take care of you. You are too big, too much.”

Riggs shuffled closer and licked her hand, then stared up at her with soulful brown eyes that seemed to plead with her to love him. Tender affection budded within her and she took several pictures of him. She came out from behind the lens to say, “Stop looking at me like that.”

She threw the ball again and marveled at Riggs's agility as he chased after it.

She'd have to make sure to find him a good home. Someplace that would be able to accommodate a dog of his size. He already was past her knee and would only grow bigger when he matured.

Riggs scampered toward her, carrying the ball in his mouth, and then skidded to a stop a few feet away. His ears perked up. His nose lifted. He dropped the ball and let out a bark. She captured the change in him with her camera.

“
What are you doing?” she asked him.

Riggs shifted to face her, barked again, and then ran to the gate. Her mouth dropped open. She kept taking pictures as he jumped up. His huge paw hit the release mechanism on the gate, allowing the gate door to swing open.

He raced through the opening like his feet were on fire. She sputtered with astonishment and took off after him. What if he darted into the street and was hit by a car?

Dread spread through her like a virus, making her stomach roil with nausea. She couldn't let anything happen to him. “Riggs, come back!”

The dog ignored her and darted around the brick building that housed the restrooms.

“Riggs!” Her sneakers slipped and slid on the slick grass. She tucked her camera to the side so that her arm could hold it like a football and it wouldn't be damaged bouncing against her ribs. Mud and water soaked her jeans as she ran in an effort to keep up with the much faster Riggs.

She rounded the edge of the restrooms in time to see the dog disappear into the thick shadows of the woods that bordered the park. Oh, no. She'd never catch him. But she had to try.

She ran harder and caught sight of a dark figure in her peripheral vision a second before they collided.

David.

His identity registered in the split second before her feet slipped out from beneath her.

Her arms cartwheeled. The camera bounced against her ribs. The world tilted. She brought her elbows in and curled around the camera protectively, bracing herself for a fall.

But strong arms snaked around her, catching her and drawing her close. Her nose was buried in the wet folds of his
weatherproof jacket. Her feet dangled in the air for a moment before he set her down.

“Whoa. Are you okay?” he asked.

She gripped the lapels of his coat and leaned back to look up into his anxious face. “Yes. Sorry. I didn't mean to slam into you.”

“No, my bad. I didn't see you until the last second.” He stepped back. He held a child's rain slicker in his hands. Worry darkened his eyes. “Have you seen Troy?”

Concern flooded her. “No. What happened?”

David threaded the fingers of his free hand through his dark, wet hair. “We had an argument and he ran out the door. I was hoping to find him at the playground but he's not there.”

Sophie looked around, as if he might be nearby. “I haven't seen him,” she said.

David pinched the bridge of his nose. “I can't believe I let this happen.”

“Hey now. He's a kid. It's not your fault.”

But David just shook his head. “I'm horrible at this parent thing. They should never have picked me to be Troy's guardian.” He drew in a deep breath, trying to pull himself together. “I have to find him.”

Filled with anxiety, Sophie offered, “I'll help you search.”

“I'd appreciate it, thanks.” David pointed to the women's restroom. “Can you check in there? I'll get the men's room.”

Riggs reappeared from the tree line, drawing their attention with a series of barks. Then he whirled away to once again disappear into the trees. Crazy dog.

“What's he doing?” David asked as he moved toward the men's restroom.

“I have no clue. He let himself out of the dog park and ran into the trees,”
she explained. She hurried to the women's restroom and checked the stalls. Empty.

She met David in front of the building. She shook her head to let him know she hadn't found Troy.

“Where could he have gone?” David pulled out his cell phone. “I have to call the police.”

Riggs returned to the same spot and barked again. This time the pitch intensified, became more insistent.

“Riggs, come,” Sophie called, a good dose of frustration lacing her tone.

The dog dashed forward and then backed up, all the while barking frantically.

“I think he's trying to get us to follow him,” David said. “Maybe he found Troy.” He rushed to trail after the dog.

“Now, that would be a Christmas miracle.” Sophie hurried to catch up to David.
Please, Lord, let us find Troy safe and sound
.