“What if we named them the months of the year?” she asked. “The one with just a small bit of brown coloring, we could name her January. Then the one with the next biggest brown patch, February. And so forth.”

She wagged her tail, obviously thrilled with her idea. “Listen up, you little heathens! I figured out what to name you!” She hurried over to the almost black puppy with a little brown spot on his head. After grabbing him by the scruff of the neck, she brought him over to me. “You’re January Dunner!” Then she grabbed the one with a little more brown coloring. “You’re February Dunner!”

She was so excited, I didn’t bother to remind her that the puppies would be renamed once adopted. As she proclaimed everyone’s name as if she were the queen knighting them, I continued to clean the floor.

After she’d been through all the months, she glanced over at me. “We need one more puppy so I can name them December.”

I shook my head and snorted. “For someone who was upset about the puppies arriving, you sure are taking a big interest.”

“They are kind of cute,” she said. “But they are loud and messy.”

“Who are you talking to, Mom?” Jacob called from the living room.

“The dogs!” I yelled. “All the dogs.”

I glanced out the window. If only they’d been found during a time of the year when we didn’t have snow. They could have gone outside and run off some of that puppy energy they’d acquired since being at my house.

A sudden thought occurred to me, one I should’ve considered earlier. “Daisy,” I whispered. “Ask them what happened to their mother.”

Chapter 3

She walked into the middle of the litter and stared down at them. I watched and listened closely. They quit their roughhousing and gathered around her. Eleven fluffy little faces stared up at her as if… they were having a conversation. A chill ran down my spine. It never failed to amaze me when Daisy spoke to other dogs. I found it more fascinating than when she spoke to me.

After a moment, she looked over to me. “Gina, who is Rudolph?”

I furrowed my brow. “What do you mean?”

“They said Rudolph was taken and their Mom went after the bad man who stole him.”

“I… I don’t know,” I said, thoroughly confused. If Rudolph was a person, I needed to call the police. Maybe he was a ranch hand over at the Tupper farm? But then I remember the deer in Charlie’s barn. I hadn’t asked him about it because I’d been so focused on the puppies. Could one of the deer be Rudolph? Of course. It was Christmastime, and the Christmas Festival was days away. Charlie must be keeping the animals for the festival. In the past, there had been a petting zoo where the kids could feed the deer, and the animals were always billed as Santa’s reindeer.

But, I should double-check, just to be certain.

I pulled out my phone, scrolled through my recent calls and pushed his number. It went to voicemail.

“Hmm… I think I better head back to the Tupper Farm,” I muttered. “Charlie and I need to talk.”

“Do you know who Rudolph is?” Daisy asked.

“I have an idea, but I need to verify.”

“Can I come?”

It would be best to leave Daisy at home to help care for the puppies, but she could also be helpful to me. Maybe she could catch the mother’s scent and at least see which way she’d ventured. “I suppose so,” I muttered. “Let me talk to Jacob.”

“How are you going to explain that you need to go out to the Tupper farm because your dog is talking to other dogs and then passing on the conversation to you?”

Okay, she had a valid point. I couldn’t share any of what I’d learned with Jacob.

“Jacob!” I yelled, stepping over the gate into the hallway. I walked into the living room and smiled as he hung an ornament.

“What’s up?” he asked. “Look at this ornament. Isn’t that a picture of me at my kindergarten Christmas recital?”

I smiled. The contrast between the young boy and the man in front of me now wasn’t lost on me. Time flew by so fast. “It is,” I replied. “You looked so cute in that Santa hat. And you sang your lungs out. You were very proud of your performance that night.”

With a chuckle, he hung it on the tree.

“Listen, I need to run back out to the Tupper Farm,” I said. “I was wondering if you could offer the puppies some food in about an hour?”

“Sure. I’ll also put some lights up outside. Grandpa will like that.”

My father used to hang lights every Christmas until my brother and I moved out. Then after I’d had Jacob, Dad had continued the tradition at my house. With my childless brother and my worthless husband at the time, my father had come through for me and helped me give Jacob holidays to remember. Now in his eighties, I’d kill him if I ever saw him on a ladder. “That’ll be nice,” I said. “I shouldn’t be too long. I can give you a hand when I get home.”

“Take your time,” he said as I grabbed my purse and slipped on my coat. “I’ll be here when you get back.”

Daisy complained about the snow while she ran to the car. “It’s cold on my toes! Cold toes, Gina!”

“I’m not carrying you,” I muttered, opening the door for her. Once she was inside, I slammed it, then slid into the driver’s seat. After adjusting the heating vents, we were off.

The drive out to the Tupper Farm was clear and not nearly as scary as this morning. My tires remained on the road. Heywood was coming alive, and I’d been correct—it was going to be a busy day for the store owners. If I didn’t have the puppies, I’d consider opening my own store, File It Away, the only nail salon in town. But did tourists really want manicures while shopping? My guess was no, and frankly, I didn’t feel like working. Right now, I had other things to worry about.

Traffic continued to be stop and go throughout the town, but once I was on the other side, we were able to speed up. As I turned down the lane to the Tupper Farm, I sighed with relief when I saw Charlie’s truck still parked in front of the house. He may not have been answering his phone, but at least he was home.

I pulled up near the pickup and hurried up to the front door with Daisy on my heels. After ringing the doorbell, I waited a moment, then pounded my fist against the panel.

No answer.

With a curse, I ran around the back of the home, peeking through windows as I went. My heart thundered and sweat dotted my brow despite the cold.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” Daisy muttered.

For some reason, I did as well, even though I had zero proof something was amiss. “Let’s check the barn,” I said. “Maybe he’s still in there mucking stalls or something. Or his phone went dead.”

We tromped through the snow and entered the barn. “Charlie?” I called while Daisy ran in before me.

The building was oddly quiet. That morning, there’d been animal sounds—snorts and grunts. My footsteps were now the loudest noises. “Charlie?” I called again.

“Where are all the animals?” Daisy yelled. “The stalls are open. I can smell them, but where are they?”

As I moved deeper into the barn, my breathing became shallow and the feeling of dread sat heavily on my shoulders.

My mind screamed at me to leave the barn and call the police. But what if Charlie was hurt? I should help him and see what medical attention he needed before calling anyone.

After taking a deep breath, I took another step. The hay and dirt crunching under my boot seemed to reverberate throughout the barn.

“Gina, no one is here,” Daisy called. “The whole barn is empty!”