Soon growing full, Tori said, “This one’s for you, Rip!”
“Tori,” Libby said gently, “Rip can’t have chocolate. It’s poison to dogs.”
The little girl got a stricken expression on her face. “Oh, no! I already gave him a little bite.” Then she burst into tears and hugged the dog’s neck. “I’m sorry, Rip. I’m so sorry. I’ve killed you.”
Crystal ran over and crouched by the child. “No, you haven’t killed him, sweetie. You didn’t give him that much. Unless Rip ate a lot of chocolate, he should be fine.” Crystal had owned only one dog, a pup when she was twelve, and she would always blame herself for his death. Even if Rip got sick, she didn’t want this little girl to feel guilty. “Years ago people didn’t know chocolate was bad for dogs, and they gave it to them all the time. Not all of those dogs died, and Rip won’t, either. He probably won’t even have an upset tummy. One smidgeon of chocolate? He’ll be okay.”
Tori sat back on her heels and wiped away her tears with chocolate-smeared fists. “He looks happy, not sick.”
“Exactly. And you can still make him his own s’more with the crackers and only a marshmallow. He’ll love that.”
Tanner added, “Nah. He should get peanut butter, too. I don’t think it’s bad for dogs.” He arched an eyebrow at his daughter. “You want the s’more specialist to help you make it for him?”
Tori’s face was now smeared with melted Hershey bars. “Yes, Daddy. I want Rip’s s’more to be the best one tonight.”
Michael joined in the fun, making a s’more for the dog, too.
Tori wore a pink top with spaghetti straps and an elasticized midriff. While hugging the child, Crystal had felt goose bumps on her skin. “Did you bring a jacket for Tori?”
“It’s in the truck, Tanner,” Libby said. “It doesn’t feel cold to me, but Tori doesn’t have much insulation.”
“I’ll run and get it,” Tanner said. “Michael, are you getting chilly?”
“Nope. I’m good.”
Crystal took over for Tanner in supervising the children as they roasted their last marshmallows. She complimented each kid on technique, saying that their finished products would be browned perfectly.
Michael said, “Watch the master!”
He moved his stick in a figure eight, trying to mimic the dashing lunge of a fencer. On the apex of the second swing, his marshmallow went airborne. From where she stood beside Tori, Crystal felt as if the melted confection cannoned through the air at the speed of light before landing on Tori’s shoulder. Tori screamed, dropped her stick, and spun in a circle, stamping her feet.
Crystal’s only thought was to pluck the gooey substance off the child’s shoulder. In her peripheral vision, she saw Libby dashing toward them. With her bare hand, Crystal grabbed the marshmallow. Some of Tori’s skin came away with it. The child screamed again.
Libby grabbed a pitcher from the table, held Tori’s arm so she couldn’t run, and drizzled ice water over the goo-flecked burn. “It’s okay, darling. I know it hurts, but this will make it feel better.”
Tanner appeared with the jacket, which he tossed aside when he realized his daughter was hurt. He saw the patch of raw skin on her shoulder. “What happened? I was gone for only a minute!”
As Libby explained the mishap, Crystal felt sick to her stomach. I happened, she thought. Libby had been sitting in a lawn chair away from the fire. Tanner had gone to the truck. Crystal had been the adult in charge.
“Why on earth would you fling a stick around, playing swords, with a hot marshmallow on the tip?” Tanner asked his son.
Michael’s eyes filled with tears. “I didn’t know it would come off and hurt anyone.”
“Well, now you know, Michael. I understand it was an accident. But don’t ever do that again. Okay?”
Tanner flew into action, fetching a large first aid kit from his vehicle. Then he carried both Tori and the plastic case inside. He set the child on the counter by the sink. Everyone else gathered behind him.
He turned on the faucet and adjusted the temperature. “Cool water should help with the burn.”
“I used ice water,” Libby said. “The hot marshmallow was still partly stuck to her, and I didn’t want the burn to go deeper.”
“You did the right thing, Mom. Running cool water over a burn minimizes the damage.”
Crystal couldn’t help but think that she’d done very little. “I’m so glad you were there, Libby.”
Within twenty minutes, Tori was bandaged and playing outside with Rip again. Crystal stood near the fire, arms locked around her waist. “Are you sure she doesn’t need to see a doctor, Tanner?”
“We’ll change the dressing tomorrow and have a look, but I’m pretty sure she’ll be fine.”
Crystal still felt nauseated. She was standing in the same place she had been earlier, and Libby had been sitting at the table, her view of Michael blocked. Crystal should have known that roasted marshmallows could become burning projectiles. If Michael had been under proper supervision, the accident might never have happened.
“Excuse me for a moment,” she said to no one in particular. Moments later, she knelt by the toilet in the bathroom adjoined to her bedroom and purged her stomach.
* * *
Tanner sensed that Crystal was upset and followed her into the house. When he heard her vomiting, he set aside polite protocol and went in to check on her. She folded her arms around the commode seat to hide her face as she retched. He found a cloth and ran it under water. Then he crouched to press the cold terry cloth against her throat.
“Sometimes this helps. Do you think it was something you ate?”
She straightened and used the cloth to wipe her mouth. “No,” she said, her voice tremulous. “A fright response, I guess. When I pulled that marshmallow off and her skin came away, I nearly fainted.” Eyes filled with shadows, she met his gaze. “I’m sorry. I know you thought I’d watch the kids, and I totally blew it. You may as well have left Michael in charge.”
“You’re not blaming yourself for what happened, surely?”
“I blocked your mom’s view where I was standing, so I was the only adult supervising. If I’d told Michael not to swing the stick, Tori wouldn’t have gotten burned.”
“Okay.” He studied her face. Hers was not a symmetrically beautiful countenance, but he thought it was perfect. “You know what I’ve learned from being a father?” When she shook her head, he answered, “That if anything can go wrong, it will go wrong. My kids and I have roasted so many marshmallows I’ve lost count, and when Michael started playing around, I might not have said anything, either. I learn from my mistakes and hope I’ll do better next time. That’s all anyone can do.”
“What if something horrible happens? What then, Tanner?”
“That’s not how it usually goes. With kids, tragic things can occur, but mostly it’s cuts, scrapes, and bruises. You’re fabulous with my children. They like you—a lot. Just relax and enjoy them. Shit happens. When it does, you do the best damage control you can and move on. You know what I did once?”
Her lips finally curved up at the corners. “No, what?”
“Tori finally had her balance on her bike, so I removed the training wheels. She’d been riding it on the sidewalk for weeks. That required steering. Or so I assumed. But apparently training wheels also help a child steer, because right after I took them off Tori’s bike, she started wobbling and veered off the sidewalk, went over the grass median, and hit a parked car. Did I see that coming? No. Was my daughter hurt? Yes. She flew onto the hood of the vehicle and fell on the asphalt. She was scraped and bruised. Her head was bleeding. When I got her to the ER, the physician said she had a concussion. It was a mess.”
“Oh, no. You must have felt awful.”
“I did. And then my mother reminded me of the day my dad said I was a good enough swimmer to no lon
ger wear a life jacket at the river. There was a nice swimming hole there. Only, I choked on water and sank like a rock. The current caught me, and when my father dived in after me, he couldn’t find me. By the time he did, I wasn’t breathing. My mom called for paramedics, Dad started CPR, and I was fine before help arrived. But my father said I could never go swimming again without a flotation device. I was sixteen before he finally relented.”
She emitted a weary sigh. “You’ve made me feel better. Supervising kids is trial and error.”
“Sometimes it feels as if it’s a series of mistakes. Want to go back out and get a little food back in your stomach?”
She nodded and took his hand.
* * *
A few evenings later, Tanner and his children came to Crystal’s for dinner again. She had prepared a kid-friendly meal: hamburgers and homemade fries with ice cream sundaes for dessert. They ate on the patio, and everyone devoured so much food that it was decided the sundaes could wait until later. Yelling and laughing, the kids raced around the property to play with Rip. Crystal and Tanner sat across from each other at the table, holding hands.
“I’m disappointed that your mom couldn’t come.”
“She went out with some friends. That’ll be good for her.”
Crystal gazed at the kids. “I could get used to this.”
“That’s my plan, to get you addicted.”
She smiled. “I never allowed myself to dream about having a family. But I love having your kids around. Just listen.”
It was growing dark, and he tipped his head. Tori was angry with Michael because he wouldn’t give her a turn throwing a stick. Michael retorted, “Go find your own stick!”
Tanner chuckled. “All I hear is trouble and more trouble.”
She laughed. “I hear life happening. It makes me realize how empty mine has been. Children fill it up.”
“What am I, chopped liver?”
“You fill it up, too.”
The kids came to the patio, both red cheeked from exertion. “It’s too dark to see, and we’re ready for ice cream!” Michael said.
“Me, too!” Crystal got up from the chair. “I want a banana split with a little of all three syrups and whipped cream on top!”
“Yum. I love banana splits!” Tori shouted.
Everyone adjourned to the house, and Crystal began pulling bowls from the cupboard and bananas from the fruit bowl. “Michael, would you get the ice cream out so it’ll soften a bit?”
Michael opened the freezer door. “I don’t see it.”
“It should be there on the top shelf.”
“I still don’t see it.”
Crystal went to look herself. There was no vanilla ice cream. “Uh-oh. I had it on my list. I thought for sure I got some. I must have been so absorbed in choosing toppings that I forgot the most important thing.”
Tanner intervened. “Not a big deal. I can drive to Flagg’s and get some in only a few minutes, and it’ll be just the right softness for scooping when I get back.”
“Can I go?” Michael asked.
“Sure. Tori, would you like to come?”
The girl bounced around the kitchen. “I’ll stay and help Crystal.”
After the guys left, Tori asked, “What can I do? I’m really good at slicing bananas the long way. Nana lets me do it with a table knife.”
“I’d prefer to slice them just before we’re going to eat them. I don’t want them to turn brown.”
Tori nodded. “Do you know what makes that happen? It’s oxidization.”
Crystal studied the child’s face. “Did you look that up?”
She nodded. “On the computer. Only that’s a big word. Did you know you can make a computer say words for you? That’s how I learn.”
Crystal wondered why an eight-year-old would care what caused fruit to turn brown. “That’s interesting. And it’s great that you remember things you’ve looked up.”
“My teacher says my brain takes pictures.” Tori sighed. “If I can’t slice bananas yet, can I go outside to play with Rip?”
Crystal glanced at the windows. “It’s way too dark.”
“We can play in the front yard with the porch light on. Daddy lets us do that at home.”
Crystal decided that would be safe. “Only if you leave the front door open so I can hear you and you promise you won’t leave the lighted area. There are coyotes in the woods.”
“They normally don’t hurt humans.”
“True,” Crystal agreed. “But you’re small, and I don’t want to take any chances.”
Crystal followed the child to the front door to make sure she left it open and turned on the porch light. “Okay, be sure not to leave the lighted area. And if you need me, just yell.”
“I will!”
Tori bounced down the steps to play with the dog. Crystal decided to quickly put the dinner leftovers in the fridge before she joined Tori and Rip in the front yard.
She kept her ears pricked for Tori’s voice. She heard the child consistently, either calling to Rip or telling him to fetch. Then, as she straightened a shelf, she realized she heard nothing coming from the yard.
Crystal ran to the front door and grabbed the flashlight that she kept sitting by the mopboard. “Tori?” She stepped out onto the porch. Both the child and the dog were gone, and with a leap of her heart, Crystal saw that the front gate yawned open. “Tori!” she called. “Where are you?”
Just then Crystal heard coyotes. And straight out of a nightmare, she heard Tori scream. She bolted off the porch and hit the ground at a dead run. “Tori!”
She heard coyotes keening and snarling. Then Tori’s shrill voice rent the night. “No! Stop it! Help, Crystal! Help!”
Flipping on the flashlight, Crystal followed the sounds. Then she heard Rip bark, and a cacophony of snarls and battle cries ensued. Half the time, she ran blind, the flashlight beam bouncing over pine trees one moment and the ground ahead of her the next. She caught her toe on something and fell, smacking her face against the dirt and knocking the breath from her lungs. Staggering back to her feet, she forced her legs to scissor forward again, knowing that if she stopped Tori might be killed.
She burst into a small clearing. In the splashes of light, she saw Tori backed against a pine tree with No Name clutched against her narrow chest. A group of coyotes, shimmering in the illumination like a writhing mass of gray fur, was lunging at the child. All that held them at bay was Rip, who danced back and forth, snarling and slashing with his teeth at any wild creature that dared to get too close.
“Get!” Crystal yelled at the coyotes. “Get out of here!”
But it was as if she made no sound. The cacophony rising from the pack of wolflike animals filled the night. Rip was outnumbered and barely managing to hold them at bay. One predator circled out and around while the others held Rip’s attention. Crystal, in a full-out run, realized that the pack wanted the kitten and the dog, not the little girl. But Tori’s presence wasn’t enough to frighten them away.
“Turn No Name loose!” Crystal screamed.
“No! They’ll kill him!”
Crystal felt as if she were in one of those dreams where she tried to run and went nowhere. She estimated that she was about thirty or forty feet from the child, and just as that settled into her brain, the lone coyote darted in behind Rip and leaped at Tori. The little girl whirled to face the tree and hunched forward to protect the kitten. The attacking animal collided with her back. If not for being slammed against the tree, Tori would have been knocked down. Rip whirled at the sound of her cries.
Twenty feet. Crystal knew she wouldn’t get there in time.
“Rip!” Still running, she pointed at the pack. “Spring forward! Spring forward!”
Rip had already sent the lone marauder fleeing. Now the heeler whirled around and went after the pack. N
o hesitation. No more trying to merely hold his ground. He dived into the midst of the predators, tearing viciously at fur and flesh. And then he vanished under an undulating wave of gray.
Crystal, deafened by the snarls and whines of several coyotes in a killing frenzy, reached the pine tree, tossed down her flashlight, and grabbed Tori. “In the tree!” Lifting the little girl as high as she could, she yelled, “Grab the limb! Grab it, Tori, and swing up!” She’d seen the little girl on monkey bars. She was as agile as a gymnast. But before Tori did as Crystal told her, she set the kitten on the limb. “Forget No Name! Get in the tree!”
Finally, the child grabbed the limb. With a twist of her body, she soon straddled the barky appendage. “Rip!” she screamed. “They’re killing him!”
Now that Crystal had Tori lifted to safety, she retrieved the heavy flashlight. Without stopping to think about the danger, she waded into the fray, swinging the torch as if it were a battle club. Rip. He’d gone down. They would tear him apart.
“Get out of here!” The heavy end of the flashlight cracked against something hard. A coyote squealed in pain and ran off. Crystal kept swinging. She had only one thought: that she’d commanded Rip to go after the pack, and now she had to save him. He’d offered the ultimate sacrifice to protect Tori, and she couldn’t allow these bloodthirsty killers to take his life. She waded deeper into the pack and kept swinging. Her makeshift weapon connected again and again with bodies. The thudding sound of heavy metal impacting with flesh resounded against her eardrums.
Finally, after what seemed an eternity but was probably only seconds, the last of the coyotes fled with their tails tucked between their legs. Gasping for breath, Crystal dropped to her knees beside the dog. With one play of light over his ravaged body, she wanted to turn her face to the sky and scream. Only, she heard Tori sobbing. This was no time to lose it in front of the little girl.