Chapter 4
Four
T he following morning, Norah stepped out the front door with Paddy beside her. The calm sea air nipped at her cheeks and carried the familiar loamy scent. She inhaled deeply. Ahh, December in Christmas Beach.
She spied something sitting on the Christmas-themed welcome mat. A grocery bag from Toussaint’s.
Huh, what was this?
She bent to pick up the bag. Heavy. Curious, she looked inside and found two large jars of peanut butter. One smooth and one extra crunchy. She grinned and let out a hoot of laughter.
Matt.
She also found another bag inside the Toussaint’s packaging, this one from Kirk’s Hardware and scrawled under the store’s logo in familiar handwriting, a note.
I’ll install it for you. Let me know when—Matt
From the weight of the Kirk’s sack, she knew before she even peeked inside it was a deadbolt.
Yep.
A rush of giddiness swept through her. A silly rush. A foolish giddiness. But she didn’t care because this was so very Matt. She’d thought of him often over the years, more so the past four since he opened his clinic in Christmas Beach, but never in her wildest dreams did she imagine how fun reconnecting with him would be.
Or how very much she’d missed him.
“Not much of a guard dog, are you?” She squatted to run her hand over Paddy’s ruff.
Paddy just sniffled the bag and wagged his tail.
“Well, at least you didn’t eat the evidence.” Norah scratched behind Paddy’s ears. “Though I suppose peanut butter through the plastic might have been a bit challenging, even for a clever boy like you.”
She stashed the peanut butter in the house and then headed out, stopping by the Beach Bean Coffee Shop for her morning latte.
The aroma of freshly ground beans wafted through the air. “Ah, Paddy,” she said, “if they could bottle this scent, I’d wear it as perfume.”
“Well, good morning, Norah,” Marge, the barista, called out, her eyes lighting up at the sight of Paddy.
Marge and Norah had gone to high school together. Norah had gone off to college, while Marge had stayed in Christmas Beach, married the quarterback and raised a passel of kids. Now, she owned the beach coffee shop.
Marge came around the counter to greet Paddy. “And who’s this handsome fellow?”
“This is Paddy.” Norah patted the dog’s head. “I’m fostering him for a bit.”
Marge offered her hand for Paddy to sniff. “Aren’t you just the sweetest thing?”
Paddy licked Marge.
“Aww, I like you too.” Marge shifted her gaze to Norah. “You thinking about making it permanent?”
“Oh no.” Norah shook her head. “He’s got owners. He’s been well cared for. We’ve just got to find them.”
“By we , do you mean you and Matt Gray?” Marge went back behind the counter and washed her hands at the sink.
Good gravy. Was the Christmas Beach grapevine already buzzing?
“Don’t read anything into that,” Norah said. “I’ll have the usual.”
“Uh-huh.” Marge winked. “Changing the topic. I get it.”
After Marge filled her order, Norah and Paddy headed for the beach. Once on the sand, Norah zipped up her thick hoodie, grateful for the extra layer over her Christmas sweater and jeans.
They set off, the rising morning sun glinting off the water. Paddy splashed at the water’s edge, tugging on the leash to investigate driftwood, clumps of seaweed, and tiny crustaceans.
“Careful there, Paddy,” Norah said as the dog sniffed at a substantial piece of driftwood. “You never know what might be hiding in there. Could be a crab ready to pinch that curious nose of yours.”
Paddy looked back at her, tilting his head as if to say, Me? Get into trouble? Never!
Her mind drifted to Matt and last night’s emergency. How was his patient faring? Matt Gray. After all these years. Wow. Just… wow. Dang, she couldn’t stop grinning.
Her phone vibrated in her pocket. She fished it out and pushed her sunglasses up on her forehead so she could read the text.
It was from Matt.
Any chance you could stop by the clinic today?
That giddy feeling surged again, accompanied by a knot of worry. Was everything okay? Had something happened with last night’s emergency? Or… Her heart skipped a beat. Had they located Paddy’s family already?
She stared at his words, hearing them spoken in Matt’s low voice. In her mind’s eye, she saw his dimples deepen beneath that sexy beard.
What time?
Norah picked up a piece of driftwood and considered tossing it for Paddy to chase. She decided against it, not ready to unleash him just yet. While he bonded with her quickly—recognizing her as his new source of food and affection—Norah couldn’t risk losing him. Not when she’d just found him.
Her phone chimed with Matt’s reply.
Last appt @ 3. Come by after that if U can.
She cataloged her day’s tasks. Most were work-related, with a smattering of holiday prep. The latter made her chuckle. Without her siblings visiting, her celebration plans were minimal this year. Why did she feel this artificial pressure of holiday to-dos?
Gathering her courage, she texted.
News on Paddy’s family?
The idea stabbed at her. Of course she was thrilled to reunite Paddy with his people, but she had to admit her temporary sidekick stirred up long-buried feelings.
No. See you then. Oh, and bring Paddy.
Ha! “Very cryptic, Dr. Matthew Gray. Very cryptic indeed,” she muttered and glanced down at Paddy, who sat patiently at her feet, watching the waves roll in. “Well, buddy, it looks like we’ve got a date with the good doctor later. Any idea what he’s up to?”
Paddy’s tail thumped, and his doggy grin said, No clue, but I bet it’ll be fun!
“You’re right,” Norah nodded as if they’d just had an entire conversation. “No use worrying about it now. Come on, let’s finish our walk. I’ve got work to do before we see what surprises Matt has in store for us.”
Norah had a ten o’clock appointment with the owner of Whitley Plumbing and the punctual Dwight Whitley arrived at the stroke of the hour.
She handled the books with the same meticulous care Dwight applied to pipes and fixtures. Over the years, he’d become one of her favorite clients.
His reliability extended beyond appointments—every piece of paperwork arrived in immaculate order. Even in this digital age, Dwight brought printed receipts, canceled checks, and bank and credit card statements. Norah knew the true architect behind this organization was Dwight’s wife, Colleen.
Norah’s dining room was reborn as her home office. The doorway leading to the kitchen? Gone. The entrance now opened directly into her foyer.
The strategic redesign created a psychological boundary between home and work. The absence of a kitchen doorway eliminated the temptation of too-frequent snack breaks.
Dwight filled the doorframe, his body as solid as the pipes he worked with. His chambray shirt strained at his biceps and forearms. A Whitley Plumbing ball cap perched atop his bald head. His face, ruddy from sun and wind, bore the marks of his trade—including a nose that veered slightly left, hinting at a long-ago mishap.
But it was Dwight’s smile that transformed his weathered features. “Hey, Norah. How goes it?”
“Morning, Dwight.” Norah set aside a stack of receipts secured with a binder clip. “How’s Colleen feeling?”
Dwight eased into the chair across from Norah’s desk. “Pretty good. Doc wants her to walk thirty minutes each morning, strengthen her leg and all that?—”
Paddy roused from his nap and peered around the corner. His ears perked forward.
Dwight’s face lit up. “Well, hey there,” he said, his grin crinkling the corners of his eyes. “Who are you?”
“This is Paddy. I’m fostering him through the holidays.” Norah glanced over at her sidekick. “I hadn’t really planned to have him hang out with me, but he gave me that look, you know? Like he was on the verge of separation anxiety. And, well, so was I.”
“Hey, ya, Paddy,” Dwight said, extending a hand.
Paddy looked to Norah as if seeking permission.
“Go on.” She gave an encouraging nod.
Paddy eased toward the big man.
“You are a good-looking pooch.” Dwight set his folders on Norah’s desk and rubbed Paddy’s head. “Me and Colleen used to have a golden. Sweetest thing. Those two walked hundreds of miles together. Shame she doesn’t have a good boy like you to walk with her now.”
Norah’s gaze flickered between Paddy and Dwight. Perhaps Dwight and Colleen might like to foster Paddy? It seemed a perfect solution. Colleen would have a companion for her recovery walks, and Norah would be free of a responsibility she’d never intended to take on.
She opened her mouth to suggest it, and yet the words stuck in her throat. Paddy had already burrowed his way into her heart despite her vow never to let that happen again.
This situation was all Matt’s fault. Matt, who’d become a veterinarian inspired by her family’s dogs.
Her throat constricted, the past rising like a lump she couldn’t swallow. Her stomach flip-flopped. Why now, of all times, for that memory to surface? She reached for her Santa’s head coffee mug, gulping the cooling liquid. With a sharp shake of her head, she told Paddy to return to his bed.
Impeccably mannered, Paddy obeyed.
“Okay then,” Norah said to Dwight, forcing her voice into professional mode. “Here’s what you’re looking at for the end of the year.”
Back to business. Back to routine. Back to the comfortable world of numbers and ledgers.
“Before we dive into the numbers,” Dwight said, leaning back in his chair, “I gotta ask—where’d you get such a well-behaved dog? Colleen’s been talking about getting another one, you know.”
Norah hesitated, her earlier thought about Dwight and Colleen fostering Paddy resurfacing. “Actually, he’s staying with me until we can find his family. I found him roaming the beach and took him to Dr. Gray, but unfortunately, no microchip.”
“Dr. Gray, huh?” Dwight’s eyes took on a mischievous sheen. “Isn’t he the fella you used to date back in high school?”
Norah’s cheeks heated. “Ancient history, Dwight. We’re just… old friends now.”
“Uh-huh.” Dwight nodded, a knowing smile on his face. “Well, if you’re looking to rehome this handsome fellow, Colleen and I might be interested, but something tells me you’re not quite ready to let him go just yet.”
Norah cleared her throat, trying to steer the conversation back to safer topics. “Let’s focus on your financials for now, shall we? We can talk about Paddy’s future another time.”
“Fair enough.” Dwight grinned. “But don’t think I didn’t notice how you dodged that question about Dr. Gray.”
Norah shot him a playful glare. “I’m your accountant, Dwight, not gossip column fodder. Now, about these receipts…”
The veterinarian clinic sat perched on the northern edge of Christmas Beach, a stone’s throw from the town limits.
The building itself was a whimsical sight, resembling an oversized doghouse painted a cheery red that stood out against the coastal landscape. In a nod to the season, the dog and cat illustrations on the front door sported jaunty Santa hats, a string of Christmas lights around their necks, and painted eyes twinkling with holiday mirth.
Icicle lights in festive red, white, and green draped from the eaves. The windows sparkled with intricate webs of glittery, hard plastic snowflakes. Through the window, Norah spied a Christmas tree standing proud, but with a twist—its top crowned not with a star or an angel but a plush cat. The feline’s expression was decidedly Grinch-like, its green eyes narrowed. Norah laughed.
Typical of Matt to inject a splash of color and whimsy into a town already named Christmas Beach.
“Well, Paddy,” she said to her canine companion. “What do you think of Dr. Gray’s decorating skills?”
Paddy tail-wagged his approval.
The minute Norah walked inside, Vanessa pounced. “Oh, Norah! I’m so glad you’re going to be a part of our Christmas adoption event!”
What?
“It’ll be so much fun!” Vanessa did a little happy dance behind the reception desk.
Stunned, Norah blinked. “Um… I…”
The landline phone rang, and Vanessa grabbed it. “The Pet Vet. Vanessa speaking.” Paddy tugged on his leash, pulling to sniff at the desk, investigating exciting smells.
“Norah!”
Matt’s voice drew her attention. She turned and spotted him standing at the far end of the long hallway near the back door. He beckoned, crooking an index finger for her to follow him.
“What is it?” she asked, moving closer, the dog sticking to her side as if glued there.
Matt held the rear door open. His clothes were a study in contrasts. The crisp professionalism of his white lab coat and athletic shoes, offset by scrubs in navy blue, patterned with an absurd design of mice on ladders using tongue depressors on giraffes.
“Nice scrubs,” Norah said. “I didn’t realize giraffe dentistry was part of your practice now.”
Matt glanced down and grinned. “Well, you know me. Always branching out into new areas. Though I have to say, the ladder work is a bit challenging.”
“I can imagine. So, what’s this about an adoption event?”
He crooked a finger. “Follow me.”