Those Christmas Angels (Angels Everywhere #5)(96)

“Wanna play soccer?” Timmy asked. “I can get Cameron and Isaiah and—”

“No, thanks.”

Timmy looked as dejected as Carter felt. “It’s cold out here. Let’s go inside.”

“All right.” Timmy followed him off the playground and into the building.

When classes started, he had trouble paying attention to Ms. Jensen. Carter kept wondering what had happened to Rusty. He worried that Animal Control had picked him up, and then worried that they hadn’t.

Deep down, Carter knew that if Rusty was at a shelter, he’d at least be out of the cold. And there’d be plenty of food for him. But Carter had brought an extra-big lunch today, just in case.

After the recess bell rang, his friends dashed out the door, eager to put on their winter clothes and get onto the playground.

“Carter.” Ms. Jensen stopped him.

Carter trudged over to his teacher. “Yes, Ms. Jensen?” He thought about asking if she’d seen the stray dog recently, but then he remembered Mr. Nicholson’s warning.

“Is everything all right?”

“Yes, Ms. Jensen.”

“At home, I mean.”

He nodded. He wanted to tell her that his family wasn’t getting Christmas presents this year and that he’d lied to his friends. He still felt bad about misleading Timmy. But he didn’t want the other kids to know that the only gift under the tree would be underwear from his grandmother.

“You don’t seem yourself. Are you feeling well?”

“I’m fine, Ms. Jensen. Can I go outside now?”

“All right. Oh, and thank your mother for the cookies she sent me.”

“I will,” Carter promised.

As he hurried onto the playground, Carter noticed that his teacher was still watching him. No sooner was he outside with his friends than he saw Rusty. Carter could hardly breathe, he was so excited.

Rusty saw Carter, too, and even though one of the third-grade girls was offering him a cracker, the dog shot across the schoolyard. Carter knelt down to greet his friend. Rusty licked his face and seemed as happy to see Carter as Carter was to see him. Carter dug inside his pocket for a meatball he’d managed to smuggle out of the refrigerator early that morning. Rusty gobbled it up and looked to Carter for more.

“I’m sorry,” Carter told him, and then because he was so ecstatic, he wrapped his arms around the dog. He didn’t care that Rusty was filthy or that the sleeves of his winter jacket came away all muddy. His mother would be upset, but even her displeasure was worth the enjoyment Carter received from this special dog.

“We can’t let Mr. Nicholson see you,” Carter warned, then ran over to where his friends were playing.

Rusty followed Carter wherever he went. When Mr. Nicholson stepped into the yard, the stray quickly and quietly disappeared, just as if he understood.

Carter turned around and looked for him, but Rusty was nowhere in sight. Then he saw that the dog had gone into the trees that separated the schoolyard from the nearby houses.

“Good boy,” Carter whispered. Rusty was no dummy. He knew who his friends were—and his enemies.

At lunchtime, Carter only ate his apple. The rest he saved for Rusty. Once again the mutt gobbled the food and gazed up at Carter with bright, shining eyes that revealed his gratitude.

Carter petted Rusty’s head, although his hand got really dirty. What would happen to the dog over the holidays, when there was no one at the school? Who’d feed Rusty then? Who’d watch out for him? Carter already knew the answer. No one. After today, school was over for the year, and the yard would remain empty until the first week of January. Rusty could starve by then.

Holding the dog’s muddy face between his hands, Carter peered into his deep brown eyes. Disregarding what his father had said, Carter whispered, “Rusty, listen, I need you to follow me home.”

The dog blinked and stared back at him intently.

“I take bus number seven. Follow that bus, okay?”

Rusty cocked his head to one side.

Carter didn’t know what more he could do. Disconsolate, he tried to accept that the dog wouldn’t understand him, no matter how many times he repeated the information. After today, when the bus delivered Carter to his home, it was unlikely he’d ever see Rusty again. Carter couldn’t bear to have that happen, but he had to prepare himself for disappointment.

Because it was the last day before winter break, school was dismissed an hour early. While Carter lined up with his friends for bus number seven, he scanned the area for Rusty. Again the dog was nowhere to be seen, and once again Carter’s heart fell.

“You wanna come to my house and play video games?” Timmy asked, plopping down on the seat next to Carter.

“No, thanks.”

His friend seemed dejected.

“Can I come on Monday?” Carter asked.

“Sure.” Timmy perked up right away. “I’ll show you all my presents under the tree.”

“Okay.” Carter tried to smile but it was hard. He was glad that his friend was getting lots of gifts. He wanted gifts, too—stacks and stacks of them. But Carter would give up every single one for Rusty.

God had answered his prayer, Carter told himself, struggling to believe. Rusty would find him. God had sent Rusty to that schoolyard and now God would figure out a way to bring him to Carter’s house.