Those Christmas Angels (Angels Everywhere #5)(119)

The fog was so thick he couldn’t even see his sister’s bed. He choked. Taking a breath was painful.

Completely disoriented, he sat up.

“Bailey?”

His sister didn’t answer.

“Bailey!” He tried again.

All at once, the bedroom door burst open and was shut with a bang. Out of the fog, his father emerged with his hand cupped over his nose and mouth.

“Dad? What’s happening?”

“Fire,” his father said tersely. It wasn’t fog then, but smoke. Carter’s dad swooped him off the bed and into his arms. He stumbled across the room, carrying Carter, then set him down and reached for Bailey. Jerking open the bedroom window, he gently dropped her, bare feet and all, into the snow.

“Get away from the house as fast as you can,” he said. “Your mother’s out front waiting for you.”

Carter watched his sister race through the snow.

The smoke that was now pouring out of the bedroom window made Carter’s eyes smart. He was next. His father lowered him carefully into the snow, then looked over his shoulder and leaped out himself.

Father and son ran hand in hand around the side of the house.

In the distance, Carter heard the wail of a fire engine, the alarm piercing the night.

His house was on fire.

His mother cried out with relief when she saw Carter and his father. Sobbing, she held out her arms. She swept Carter into her embrace and started kissing him. He hugged her tight and felt the tears on her cheeks.

The fire truck arrived and suddenly there were all kinds of people in front of the house. The paramedic put Carter and his family inside the aid car and checked their vital signs. His father had to breathe into an oxygen mask for a few minutes.

When Carter looked out the back of the aid car, he saw flames shooting up through the roof. The firefighters had the hoses going, and there seemed to be a dozen men and women at work.

“What woke you up?” The question came from the man who’d given his father the mask.

Carter answered. “Rusty.” All of a sudden he realized he didn’t know where his dog was. Bolting to his feet, Carter screamed, “Where’s Rusty?” even though it hurt his throat to do that.

His father removed the mask. “My son’s dog was barking,” he said hoarsely. “If it hadn’t been for Rusty, I would never have been able to get my family out of that house.”

“Where’s Rusty? Where’s Rusty?” Carter cried, looking frantically in all directions. The thought of his dog still inside terrified him.

Then the sound of Rusty’s bark cut through the night.

“Rusty!” Carter jumped out of the aid car as the dog raced across the neighbor’s yard toward him. Getting down on one knee in the snow, Carter wrapped his arms around the dog’s neck and hugged him. “You saved us. You saved us,” he whispered again and again.

His father joined Carter and knelt down next to him and the dog.

“Well, boy,” David said and his voice was shaking. “We still can’t afford a dog, but you’ve earned your way into our home for the rest of your life.”

“Do you mean it, Dad?”

“Every word.”

“Rusty,” Carter choked out. Rusty was his dog, just the way he’d always hoped, just the way he wanted. Tears fell from his eyes and Rusty repeatedly licked his face.

“All I can say,” the man inside the aid car told them, “is that you’re mighty lucky you had that dog.”

“It wasn’t luck,” Carter insisted. “Rusty’s the dog God sent me.”

The medic nodded. “You’ve got all the proof you need of that.”

Twenty-One

Lorraine and her husband, Kenny, had arrived early on Christmas Eve. Now it was two o’clock, and Rosalie was busy in the kitchen with her daughters, getting everything ready for dinner that evening. Richard and Ken sat with Harry in the family room, watching a football game on television. Two of the grandchildren would come later that afternoon.

This was all the Christmas Harry needed. With his children and two of his four grandchildren close, he was at peace.

Rising from his chair was difficult, and embarrassed by his need for it, Harry groped for the walker.

“You need any help with that, Dad?” Richard asked.

“No, I’m fine. A little slow, but fine.” A bit wobbly on his feet, he glanced over at the two men who’d married his daughters. He loved them as much as he did Lorraine and Donna. They were the sons he’d never had. It was through their children that Harry and Rosalie would live on.

“Where are you going, Dad?” Lorraine asked, stepping out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish towel. Harry didn’t know what they were cooking in there, but it sure smelled good.

“I thought I’d rest for a while before dinner.”

She put her arm around his waist and walked him down the hallway to the master bedroom.

Inside the room, Harry sat on the edge of his bed and Lorraine placed the walker where he could reach it once he awoke.

“I’m grateful to have this moment alone with you,” he said to his oldest daughter.

“What is it, Dad?” She sat on the bed beside him.

“After I’m gone, I’ll need you to look after your mother. You and Donna.”