The Stroke of Winter(8)

“Hi, Tess!” Jane chirped. “We were just listening to a program on public radio. Do you need anything for dinner? Still want us to come?”

“Yes, absolutely, I still want you to come! I’ve already got the stew on the stove. I’m calling about something else. I have a visitor. Maybe a houseguest.”

“Oh?” Jane asked. “Someone from out of town?”

Tess smiled. “I’m not exactly sure. It’s a dog that was scratching at my kitchen door. It was freezing cold and tired and is now curled up asleep in front of my fireplace in the kitchen.”

“Smart doggie. Anyone would want to curl up in front of that massive fireplace,” Jane said, and Tess could hear the smile in her voice.

“I’m just wondering if you or Jim know of anyone who has a dog like this one—stark white, about one hundred pounds. Sort of looks like a malamute or a shepherd.”

“That’s not ringing a bell with me, but let me ask Jim,” Jane said. “Honey, do you know of anyone with a big white dog? Like a malamute or shepherd? A stray dog came to Tess’s door.”

“Wyatt Templeton has malamutes, but as far as I know, none are all white.”

“You heard that?” Jane asked Tess.

“Yeah,” Tess said. “And nobody else comes to mind?”

“Hi, Tess.” It was Jim, apparently taking the phone from his wife. “So, you’ve got a lost soul on your hands?”

Tess glanced over at the sleeping dog. It was breathing deeply, seemingly thankful to be safe from the storm. “A beautiful dog, yes,” she said. “He showed up at my kitchen door. So, you don’t know of anyone who has a dog like this?”

Jim took a moment before he answered. “Not that I can think of,” he said. “But when we come for dinner, I’ll take a photo of him and put it on the message board in the store. If anyone’s missing this dog, we’ll hear about it.”

“Great,” Tess said. “Sounds like a plan.”

“Hey, you’ll need dog food,” Jim continued. “I’ll pop down to the store and grab a bag for you. A leash, too.”

Dog food! She hadn’t even thought of that. She wasn’t sure how long she’d have this shaggy visitor in her household, but he’d need some food while he was with her. If she had a dog that was lost in a storm, she’d want whoever found him to treat him with the same kindness and love.

“You’re an angel, Jim,” Tess said. “Thank you so much. For everything.”

“That’s what neighbors are for. I was planning to go down to the store anyway to check on things. Make sure the pipes aren’t frozen and all of that. It’s no trouble to grab a bag of dog food. What time do you want us?”

Tess eyed the clock on the stove. The stew needed to simmer for at least another ninety minutes. “How about four? An early dinner.”

“Perfect.”





CHAPTER FOUR



For the rest of the afternoon, Tess sat in the kitchen jotting down ideas for her owner’s suite renovations while the stew simmered, filling the room with a delicious aroma of onions, thyme, and beef broth. The dog slept deeply in front of the fire. Tess wondered how long he had been out in the storm, imagining the poor animal huddled under bushes or next to buildings for shelter from those punishing winds and icy shards. She hated to think of him out there.

Soon, four o’clock rolled around, and Tess heard Jim and Jane rapping on her side door. The dog woke and let out a couple of low barks, not aggressively, exactly, but in warning. He scrambled to his feet as Tess crossed the room to open the door, and before she knew it, he was in front of her, between her and the outside world.

“It’s okay,” she said to him. “It’s just Jim and Jane.” She opened the door, hoping he wouldn’t continue barking or, worse yet, bite. But he just stood there, a silent protector.

“Come in, come in!” Tess said to her guests.

They trundled in, with choruses of “hellos” and hugs, Jim carrying the dog food and another bag, Jane carrying the baguettes and a bottle of wine. Both were wearing wool parkas with a Norwegian design decorating their edges, wool hats with ear flaps, and big woolen mitts. Quintessential northerners.

“You can hang your coats here,” Tess said, gesturing to the hooks by the door, “and just leave your boots there.”

While her guests were unwrapping from their outerwear, and the dog was circling around them happily, Tess opened the wine and poured glasses for them all.

“Well, look at this big fella,” Jim said, petting the dog around the ears. The dog seemed to smile from ear to ear. “Where did you come from, huh?”

“Definitely not a stray,” Jane said, running a hand along the fur on his back. “He’s beautiful. And looks to be in pretty good condition, considering.”

Jim set the bag of dog food on the counter. “Got a bowl?”

Tess retrieved a big stoneware bowl from the cabinet, poured a good amount of food into it, and set it down next to the water dish.

“Here’s some nice dinner for you,” she said to the dog, who sniffed at the food for a moment before taking a few bites.

Jim pulled his phone from his pocket and snapped a few photos as the dog ate his food. “I’ll put these up in the store, but I’m sure I haven’t seen this fella around town at all. So few of us left in the winter, you kind of get to know what’s what with everyone and their pets.”