XOXO: A Bundle of Cozy Novellas

Davey

DAVEY

Christmas Eve, eve.

“Hey, buddy, are you feeling ready for this?”

Brewski stomped his hoof and huffed white clouds of breath into the cold air of the barn.

“Me too, me too.”

Other people might think Davey was ridiculous, talking to his horse as if he were human—he knew they did. But Brewski was better than many humans Davey knew, and Brewski loved this time of year. When Davey dragged the sleigh out of storage, Brewski got an excited gleam in his eye and his tail swished back and forth faster than usual. He loved pulling the sleigh, and he was patient with the neighbor kids who wanted rides and asked to pet his nose or flanks. Brewski was a damn handsome horse, and he deserved the attention.

This afternoon, they were taking the sleigh out for a trial run. Tomorrow, Davey and Brewski would spend the day giving kids and adults rides, as well as delivering a few special packages around this side of town. Slowly but surely, Hollyridge was spreading outward. When Davey’d been a kid, town had been a few miles down Cottonwood but anymore town was almost at his property line.

“Let’s go, big guy. Walk, Brewski.”

Davey didn’t need reins, although he held them loosely in his hands; Brewski was trained to respond to voice commands. As Brewski tossed his head and stepped forward, the sleigh began to move across the snowy ground.

It was a gorgeous afternoon. About an inch of snow had fallen the night before covering everything Davey could see with a blanket of white, but not so deep he and Brewski couldn’t get out and have their fun. The cedar and fir trees surrounding Davy’s house and barn looked like something out of a Christmas village, and he made a note to see if he could find more strands of solar lights to drape around them.

This begged the question, how many lights were too many lights? He and his friend Skylar had recently discussed the question over a few spiked hot apple ciders, and they’d come to the conclusion there was no such thing as too many Christmas lights. Skylar’s fiancé Wallace had sent Davey home in a taxi when the rum ran out. It’s not as if he left the lights up all year like some of Hollyridge’s citizens. Maybe he’d make a last-minute run to Bi-Mart and see if they had any strands left, it wouldn’t hurt to have a few more.

They were near the end of the drive when barking caught both Davey’s and Brewski’s attention. Davey didn’t have a dog and neither did the Prichards, who were his closest neighbors. The next inhabited property was a half-mile east, and another mile past that was the abandoned Hachette property. To the west, closer to town was the half-finished housing development that had replaced the strawberry farm.

“Stop, Brewski. Good boy.”

Brewski stopped, and it seemed to Davey they were both listening for the dog again. Seconds later, more sharp barks sounded and Davey spotted a black-tipped tail bounding through one of his snow-covered pastures where, come spring, he would be planting more hop vines. The barking was from a dog that looked to be a husky and was having a blast leaping over the hillocks and snow-covered shrubs, chasing who knew what. For a second, he watched as it raced around, chasing after ghosts and celebrating its freedom.

As much fun as the husky was having, somebody would soon realize their dog was missing, and Davey hated it when he saw lost animal posters around town.

“Wait, Brewski.”

Davey climbed down from the sleigh and stomped over to the fence line, whistling to get the dog’s attention. From the middle of the field the dog shot him a coy glance and Davey could almost see it decide whether or not to come and say hello to him. Huskies were gorgeous, smart-ass dogs who needed equally smart owners; this dog clearly did not have one. The dog gave him a wag and barreled toward him at mach speed, crossing the pasture in seconds before leaping over the split-rail fence with ease and nearly bowling Davey over.

“Hey, boy,” Davey greeted the dog, ruffling its fur and feeling around for a collar. Which it also did not have. His opinion of the owners dipped even lower—who didn’t put a collar on their dog?

“Where’s home, handsome?”

The dog just danced around and barked again, probably answering Davey’s question but he didn’t speak husky.

“Christ. Well, Brewski, I guess we’re paying Doctor Lee a visit.”

The small and large animal veterinarian’s office wasn’t far, just on the other side of the new housing development. Davey climbed back into the sleigh and without having to be coerced, the husky jumped in after him, huddling on the bench and pressing against his side.

“Yeah, you may be made for the cold, but you have to get used to it first. I sure hope you have a microchip, I don’t want to spend the rest of the day trying to figure out who you belong to.”

His knit gloves made it hard to get his phone out of his pocket, but he managed it.

“Walk, Brewski.”

The phone rang only twice before one of the vet techs answered with a cheery, “Hello.”

“Hi there, it’s Davey Childs. I found a stray dog and I’m hoping to bring it in for a scan so I can get it back to the owner.”

“Come on by, we’re open until seven.”

Doctor Lee was shaking her head, but smiling at him. “You and Brewski brought the dog in the sleigh? I would have liked to see that.”

Brewski was waiting patiently out front in a proper parking space. Davey didn’t see anything wrong with that.

“We’d just gotten hooked up, and pulling the sleigh is one of his favorite things, I wasn’t putting it away again. Besides, this guy seemed fine, sat right by my side all the way here.”

The dog in question was now on a borrowed leash, but he was being a good boy, sitting by Davey’s side.

Doctor Lee held a scanner in her hand but hadn’t swept it over the dog’s body yet. Instead she knelt down, cooing, “What a good boy! So many kisses, so much love. Hold still for one second while I do this.”

There was a great deal of wiggling, giggling, and sloppy dog kisses, but Doctor Lee managed to get a read off the microchip.

“Nice to meet you, Elvis!” The husky began wiggling again and then to howl. “Shhhhh, I know you have a lot to say, Elvis. Hmm, looks like the owner lives close by, on this side of town, at least.”

“What’s the owner’s name?” Davey asked. “If it’s on our sleigh ride route I can drop the dog off.”

“Milo Zajac, one two two three Red Wing Road.” She glanced at him a thoughtful expression on her face. “Isn’t that the old Hachette place? I’d heard someone bought it recently.”

“Someone who can’t keep his dog in line,” Davey grumbled. Now that he’d heard the owner’s name, he was feeling much less charitable. “He could have been hit by a car or just lost forever.” The Hachette place was farther than Davey wanted to push Brewski today, but they could head home and then Davey would take Elvis the rest of the way in his truck.

“Luckily, there’s a phone number. I’ll have Bethany call it.”

Milo Zajac? Davey wasn’t sure how he felt hearing that name after all these years.

Scrap that, he knew exactly how he felt. Milo Zajac obviously hadn’t changed one bit, still the unreliable jerk he’d been ten years ago when they’d graduated high school. Earnestly asking Davey if he wanted to grab a burger at the Ice Berg and then go see the summer movie at The Cinemark. And then never showing. Ghosting Davey for the rest of the summer until Milo finally disappeared altogether and Davey didn’t have to worry he might run into him somewhere.

It had been Davey’s first lesson in heartbreak.

Davey and Milo had been in the same graduating class, which meant they’d been in each other’s orbit for years before graduation. Davey wasn’t sure if he could pinpoint when he realized he was attracted to Milo—maybe while watching him play saxophone in the marching band during football games. Being out in a small town took courage or stupidity, and neither of them had taken the risk. When Milo had asked Davey if he wanted to hang out and stuff, Davey had been surprised, but also YES. It wouldn’t have been his first time with a guy, but it was the first time a guy wanted to do something in public.

If Milo was ready, Davey was ready.

A couple years later when the Lost Apostles made it big, began touring the world and wowing crowds with their music, and the local newspaper reported practically daily about how a local Hollyridge boy and his band had made it to the big stage, Davey let his anger go. Milo and his band had managed to grab the golden ring and run with it. He’d never know what happened to keep Milo from meeting him that day, and in the larger scheme of things it didn’t matter.

But now Milo was back in town and not responsible enough to keep his dog safe? Milo hadn’t grown up at all, had he? Probably the band members had had handlers who did everything but go to the bathroom for them. How would Milo Zajac know how to take care of an intelligent dog like Elvis?

“Davey?”

“Oh, sorry. What?”

“I can tell you’re over there thinking the owner is irresponsible, but Huskies are wily, super-smart dogs and this one is young—only about a year old, maybe less. They just get notions in their heads and decide to take themselves on walks. We’ll call Mr. Zajac and let him know we have his dog.”

“I’ll wait and see if he bothers to answer.”

Doctor Lee shot Davey a look but didn’t say anything, just left the exam room the scanner still in her grip. Elvis leaned against Davey’s thigh, plopping his chin down and giving him a soulful look.

Was it terrible that Davey was considering… dog napping?