Page 81 of Puppy Christmas

“There are no weapons in the kennel, I’m afraid,” she said with her palm outstretched. “All sharp objects must be left at the door.”

Byron glanced first at his cutlass and then back at Lila, as if determining how far he could push it. That was when she noticed he also had leather-style pirate cuffs on each wrist and dark-ringed eyes that had been applied, one would hope, with his mother’s eyeliner.

“Captain’s orders,” she said, making a stab. “This is my ship, and if you want to be onboard, you have to follow my rules.”

With a sigh, Byron handed the cutlass over. She was about to thank him when he bent over and pulled a matching plastic knife from his sock. As this was accompanied by anactualbutter knife from his pocket and a wadded-up ball of paper that may have been masquerading as a hand grenade, she was thrown somewhat off her guard.

However, she was coming to understand the rules. Emily lived in a world where princesses appeared out of nowhere to help her find her missing father. Byron and Neil lived in a world where the rules of the high seas applied to everyday situations.

They were strange creatures, children, but she could appreciate their commitment to a theme.

“Thank you,” she said, looking around in vain for a place to store all her booty. In the end, she had to end up tucking most of it into her own pockets. The cutlass, however, was too large. That had to be tucked into her belt, imbuing her normal walk with a swagger.

That swagger lost her no credibility in the Griswold boys’ eyes. With a stern look, she planted herself in front of Neil. He was forced to come to a stop before her.

“Yours too, if you please.”

“I don’t have any,” he protested.

She made a quick scan of his small person and identified a lumpy bulge in the region of his solar plexus. “Under your shirt. Right above your belly.”

The boys shared a wide-eyed look of wonder. “How did you know?” Neil demanded, but he lifted his small shirt to reveal yet another butter knife taped around his midsection with what looked like every Band-Aid that Helen must have owned. “Do you have X-ray vision?”

Remembering that half of his heart belonged to the world of caped crusaders rather than pirates, Lila shook her head. “Of course not. That would be preposterous. No one has X-ray vision.” As she followed this up with a heavy wink, Neil took none of this amiss. He breathed a sigh of wonder and stood at her feet, awaiting her next order.

“Now that we have everything settled,” she began, “you may each choose one puppy at a time. No, not to take home, so don’t get too excited. It’s just for this evening. They need playtime, and your job is to make sure they get it. There’s a box of toys in that corner, which you’re free to make use of, but you must be gentle. No tugging ears. No pulling tails. And no, um, biting?”

She tried to think of what other activities these two redoubtable children might come up with to torture her poor animals, but decided to stop there. No need to put ideas into their heads.

“There’s only time for you to play with one or two of them, though, so choose carefully,” she said. Byron took her at her word and started to walk up the center of the kennel, appraising each puppy in its turn. Neil, however, paused and glanced shyly up at her.

“Is this where Emily got Jeeves?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Did she get to pick any one she wanted?”

“For the most part, yes. Only she gets to keep hers forever.”

He nodded. “I like Jeeves,” he said and, with a somewhat defiant glance at the back of his brother’s head, “I like Emily, too.”

“So do I,” Lila confessed. In fact, she was rapidly coming to love that little girl. It was difficult to imagine a time when she’d been terrified at the prospect of spending eight hours in her company. Or, she reflected ruefully, in her father’s company. Despite their flaws and fears and—in Ford’s case, at least—their flirtations, those two had won her over, heart and soul.

It had just taken a little time, that was all. Time and understanding and…

“You know what?” she asked, suddenly struck with inspiration. “Do you see that puppy in the third kennel down?”

She pointed at a fluffy tan-and-white collie. They’d only just bought her, earmarked for use as a seizure alert dog for an upcoming case. The animal had already shown extraordinary sensitivity—which was great from a training standpoint but meant that she exhibited nervous tendencies.

“That one?” Neil asked, following the line of her finger.

“Yep. She’s my favorite, but don’t tell anyone.”

Neil looked doubtfully at the collie puppy, who was eyeing him with the same wariness. “She’s all right, I guess. I like the one next to her.”

Predictably, he indicated the boisterous Chihuahua with a tail like a whip. She was showy and enthusiastic but had a tendency to lose interest in just about everything after ten minutes.

“Really?” Lila asked, allowing a note of incredulity to creep into her voice. “Pip’s good, too, I guess, but for my money, Andromeda’s worth ten of her. She’s a little wary of strangers, but she’s stronger than every other dog in here. She just hides it until it’s needed. Hang on a sec, will you? I think your brother has decided on the Akita.”