“You got it?” Connie asked.
I started to tell her no.
“Now toss your bundle into the fire.”
I opened my eyes just as she and Archer tossed theirs into the flames.
“Go on, Toby,” Connie encouraged.
I tossed it without thinking, watching it spark just a little when the cinnamon disappeared.
“You just made your first fireside wish,” Connie said, giving me a one-armed hug.
“What did you wish for?” Brett asked.
Connie gasped. “Do not tell him! Your wishes are foryou. Telling people will keep them from coming true.”
I should definitely,definitely,tell someone, then.
But even as I thought it, my lips stayed sealed.
8
Archer
Despite Toby the Terrible’spresence at the Yuletide bonfire, the event was a success. Most of the town came out, and the selection of precut trees in the barn was growing limited.
After making sure the fire was burning brightly, the wood was stocked, and everyone had what they needed, I slipped in through the back door of Hodge Podge for a little reprieve. I used to be a people person, but now I mostly wanted peace. And in my experience, people weren’t all that peaceful.
The scent of woodsmoke clung to my clothes as I walked into the kitchen, looking to the spot we’d made up for Marlowe earlier in the day.
He whined excitedly, tail beating against the dog bed piled high with blankets, as his ears quivered.
“Hey, boy,” I greeted, heading right toward him. Dogs were just so much simpler than people.
At the sound of my voice, he jumped up and limped forward, tail still wagging.
“Easy now,” I murmured, quickening my steps to get there faster. “You’re supposed to be resting that leg.”
Scooping him up, I carried him back to the dog bed while he sniffed my face and dragged his tongue across my cheek and nose. “Dog breath,” I muttered, placing him down.
Still excited, he bounced around, not wanting to lie down.
“Sit,” I commanded, and when he listened, I scratched behind his ears.
After a few more moments of scratches and pets, I instructed him to stay and wandered over to the fridge. On my way, I snagged a Christmas cookie off the counter and shoved the entire thing in my mouth while I grabbed a sandwich and carried it back over to the dog bed.
“There room for me?” I asked Marlowe and sat down beside him.
He rolled onto his side and laid his head in my lap, looking up at me with pleading eyes as I unwrapped my food.
“You’ve probably eaten more than me today,” I told him, taking a big bite.
He watched me chew, and I felt like I was suddenly in the middle of one of those heartbreaking commercials about neglected animals.
Sighing, I broke off a chunk of meat, cheese, and bread and tossed it to him. Marlowe snatched it out of the air and swallowed it without chewing.
“Did you even taste that?” I wondered. “What a waste of good eats.”
