Angel Unaware (10 page)

Over Penny’s head, Dora stared down at them. Tony had the distinct impression Penny was not only referring to the dog, and the look on Dora’s face told him he was right.

“Well, we’ll see. Now, let’s take a look at this dog.” “Jack, Uncle Tony. His name’s Jack.”

“Okay. Let’s take a look at Jack.”

Penny opened the laundry room door to reveal the most pathetic excuse for a dog Tony had ever laid eyes on. She flopped down beside the mutt and encircled his neck with her arms.

She looked at Jack as though he were the latest Hollywood hunk. “Isn’t he handsome, Uncle Tony?” Then she cupped her hand around her mouth and whispered, “Don’t say
beautiful
. He gets insulted.”

“Insulted?” Tony glanced at Dora, who raised her eyebrows and gave a tiny nod of her head, silently warning him not to say anything disparaging about Jack. “He sure is handsome all right.” He waited for a bolt of lightning to strike the house in retribution for his blatant lie. He curled his nose at the smell emanating from Jack. Wet manure came to mind. “But you know what? He’d be even more handsome if he had a nice bath.”

As if on cue, the dog backed away from him. Evidently bathing wasn’t high on the mutt’s list of priorities.

“Great idea,” Dora said brightly. “You and Penny can bathe him while I get supper started.”

Tony stifled a moan and turned to glare at Dora. “Okay, but we’ll do it in here in the laundry room sink.” He pointed to a very large, deep stainless-steel sink where Rosalie had done hand-washables or soaked stains out of clothes before they went into the washer.

“Well, I’ll leave you two to it,” Dora announced, backing away. “I’ll be in the kitchen.”

“Thanks,” Tony ground out and cast another you’ll- pay-for-this glare at Dora.

Forcing back a grin, Dora left them to their unsavory task and went into the kitchen. As she pulled the makings for stew from the refrigerator, she could hear Tony giving Penny instructions for the bathing of Jack. While his tone was friendly and patient, to Dora’s ears it lacked something. Warmth? That special tenor one uses when talking to a cherished child. Dora didn’t for one minute doubt Tony’s love for his niece; she only wished he could show it.

“Pull the stool over by the sink so you can reach it.” A pause followed and then she heard the sound of the scraping of metal legs across the floor as Penny obeyed her uncle’s wishes. “That’s it. Put the plug in the bottom so the water doesn’t run out. Now, turn on the water and add a little soap. That’s enough. Good job! Let the hot water run until it’s hot, then turn on the cold water until it’s warm.” Next came the gush of water hitting the metal sink and then the shuffling of feet. “I’ll put Jack in the sink and show you how to wash him. Come here, Jack.” More shuffling of feet followed by a loud grunt and a bark.

“Jack, please be good and let Uncle Tony put you in the sink. Let’s face it, you’re handsome, but you smell like poop.” Dora stifled a chuckle. She could picture Penny’s pert little nose curling up.

More shuffling, another bark, and then a muffled curse and a splash came from the room off the kitchen. Dora assumed Jack had at last made it into his bath.

About an hour later, a large pot of fragrant, beef stew was bubbling on the stove and the table was set. Dora hadn’t heard any noise from the laundry room for about fifteen minutes. Suddenly, the door opened and out bounded Jack, snowy white and smelling like spring sunshine. Following him were Tony and Penny, looking like they’d emerged from a swim in the local swamp.

Dirty water dripped from both of them and puddled at their feet. Dog hair clung in clusters to their clothes and skin. Their cheeks were pink with a combination of the heat from Jack’s bathwater and the exertion of bathing him. Penny’s school uniform was past ruined. Tony’s white T-shirt no longer resembled anything close to the crisp, clean garment he’d put on that morning.

Penny sported a satisfied smile, while Tony glared at Dora, the threat of retribution written clearly on his features.

“Isn’t he just the handsomest dog ever, Dora?”

Dora wouldn’t go that far, but he certainly was a vast improvement over the disreputable mutt that had been standing on the front porch a few hours ago. Now that the tangles had been brushed out, his fur laid smoothly over his back and head and the fringe on his tail reminded her of the feathers in an angel’s wings. Dora squatted down and looked Jack over. She couldn’t believe how white he was. If she’d had to venture a guess as to whether or not he would have ever cleaned up, it would have been that the filth and matting were going to be part of Jack for eternity.

“He certainly looks much better.” Dora patted his damp head. “And he smells a lot better.”

“All he needed was a bath and a few hugs,” Penny said, dropping to the floor and embracing the dog.

Jack seemed to enjoy the hugs for a while, and then he pulled from her grasp and fairly strutted around the kitchen as though showing off his newly washed, snow-white fur.

“He looks so … so self-confident now,” Dora said to no one in particular.

“That’s ‘cause he knows I love him,” Penny said. “Everybody always feels better when they know somebody loves them.” She stood and grabbed a handful of Jack’s neck hair and led him back into the laundry room. “Come on, you need to be brushed some more.”

Penny’s words hit a raw note of awareness in Dora. Though the child had been talking about her dog, Dora knew that the truth behind the words came from some unfulfilled need deep inside.

Dora glanced at Tony, who was preoccupied picking gobs of wet dog hair off his jeans. She couldn’t say for sure, but her guess was that he had totally missed what Penny had said. Would she ever get through to him that his niece needed his love to thrive as much as a flower needed water to flourish and grow? How would she go about breaking through the protective wall he’d built around his heart?

CHAPTER 6

Tony hung up the wall phone next to the refrigerator and turned to Dora, who was finishing up the supper dishes. “The
Tribune
will run the ad tomorrow. Because it’s a lost pet, they’ll run the ad free of charge. If the owner comes forward, we should know in a few days. Where’s he now?”

“Penny took him upstairs.” She waited for Tony to object, but he didn’t.

Instead, he placed the pad on which he’d written the newspaper’s classified division phone number on the counter and leaned his hip against the Formica edge. “The stew was great, Dora. Where did you learn to cook like that?”

Dora froze in the process of drying a plate. What was she supposed to say?
The Angel of Transition made sure I had the skill when I came down here
? She fumbled for an explanation and snatched the first one that drifted through her mind. “It … uh … just comes to me out of the blue.” Her answer teetered precariously on the edge between truth and lie. She recalled Millie’s belief that cooking talents were passed down through the family and added, “Sort of an inherited talent.”

For the most part, pretending to be mortal was easy, but every once in a while, she hit a snag like this one. So far, she’d been able to make it past them. Hopefully, she could continue to do so without making Tony suspicious. Of course, he’d never guess she was an angel in disguise, but there were a myriad of other, less than savory possibilities he could choose from.

“Well, wherever you picked it up, you did a good job.” Tony shuffled his feet nervously, as though he wanted to say more, but couldn’t find the words.

An uncomfortable silence hung heavy in the kitchen. Then Tony looked directly at her, his dark gaze sending ripples of strange, unaccustomed pleasure racing down her spine.

The dish towel dropped from her numb fingers. Dragging her gaze from his, she bent to retrieve the towel, just as Tony reached for it. As her hand closed over the material, Tony’s hand enveloped hers. Tiny tingles of awareness skittered over her skin. Together, they straightened, neither of them relinquishing their grip.

Cautiously, Dora raised her gaze to meet Tony’s. She tried to read the look in his eyes, but failed. That expression was as foreign to her as anything she’d run into so far on Earth, and she had a feeling she would get no Heavenly help deciphering it.

Then she felt the tug. Not on her hand. The pull came from deep inside her, as though some unseen force was urging her to step forward into Tony’s arms. She could tell by the intensifying of his strange expression that he felt it, too.

A memory of being in Tony’s arms at the Christmas tree lot flashed through her mind. She could never recall a time when she’d felt happier, more content, or so totally in tune with everything in Heaven and Earth. It had been as if that was where she belonged, as if she’d come home.

The pull grew stronger by the minute, until Dora had to grit her teeth to keep from giving in and falling into Tony’s arms.

Although every ounce of her being said
do it
, she knew in her heart that Calvin would never approve. He’d been emphatic about not getting emotionally involved with the mortals and the dire consequences that would result.

Then a small voice inside her head whispered,
If Calvin doesn’t know, it can’t hurt him
.

But would Calvin know? Since Calvin’s last visit to the mirror, Dora had had no contact with the angel. No blinking lights, no whispers in her subconscious, nothing. Perhaps he’d taken to heart her plea to let her fulfill her mission on her own. Perhaps he had no idea what was happening here. She took a tentative step toward Tony.

Out of nowhere a white streak zoomed by in her peripheral vision. It seemed to fly across the kitchen and straight at Tony. He had to release her hand to catch it before it ended up in the sink.

To everyone’s surprise, Jack nestled securely in Tony’s arms. Dora’s mouth fell open partially in surprise and partially with dread at what Tony would say. Penny, who had followed Jack into the kitchen, stood in the doorway, her apprehensive gaze fixed on her uncle.

“Damned dog,” Tony mumbled under his breath, thankfully too low for Penny to hear. He set Jack on the floor.

Now that the mesmerizing spell between her and Tony had been broken, warm embarrassment seeped into her cheeks. Thank goodness for the interruption. If Jack hadn’t shown up when he did, Dora wasn’t sure what would have happened, but she knew that whatever it might have been, Calvin would look dimly on it, and she would be the recipient of another reprimand from her boss.

Dora avoided looking at Tony and busied herself by putting away the dried dishes. From the corner of her eye, she watched for Penny’s reaction.

“Wow, Jack, that was some jump!” The child’s grin lit up the room. “Guess he likes you, Uncle Tony,” Penny said brightly, unaware of what she and Jack had interrupted. She grinned up at her uncle and patted Jack’s shaggy head. “Come on, Jack, let’s go outside.” She darted from the room with Jack at her heels.

“Put on your hat and mittens,” Dora called after them. Tony started for the door, and then paused. “Dora, I—”

Before he could finish, a high-pitched voice broke in from the back porch. “Yoo-hoo? Is anyone home?” Millie. “Yes. We’re home. Come on in, Millie,” Dora called in answer, happy for the second interruption. Something told her it was infinitely better that she never got to hear whatever it was Tony had been about to say. When she turned back, Tony had left the room.

Millie came in, her face pink from the cold. She stomped the snow off her boots on the rug in front of the door, slipped the boots off, and padded into the kitchen in her socks. Clutched in her hands was a plate of Christmas cookies.

Dora took the plate and set it on the cleared table. “You don’t have to bring food every time you visit,” she told the older woman.

Millie patted her hand. “Dear, I love doing it, and since Preston doesn’t eat sweets, and I don’t have any little ones of my own, I’m afraid your little family is my only outlet.” She laughed and patted her ample middle. “Besides, I refuse to get fat alone.”

The words
your little family
hit Dora in the heart.

Tony and Penny were never going to be her little family no matter how much she wished it otherwise. Though it would break her heart, she was resigned to the fact that when Christmas Eve came, she’d be gone, never to return to the Falcone household—or Tony.

Millie took her customary seat at the table while Dora poured coffee for them and tried not to think about leaving Tony and Penny.

“Did I hear a dog barking over here?” Millie asked with undisguised curiosity.

Dora smiled. In the short time she’d been living at the Falcones’, she’d learned there was little that went on in their household of which Millie was not aware. “Yes. Penny found a stray, and Tony’s letting her keep it until the owners claim it.”

Millie frowned. “Is that wise? I mean the child will get attached, then the owners will come, and she’ll have to give it up. It’ll break her heart.” She made a
tsk-tsk
sound.

“She’s had so much heartache already, poor little thing.” After setting two steaming cups of coffee on the table and adding a bowl of sugar and a small pitcher of cream, Dora took her seat. “I worried about that, too, but there was just no separating her from that dog. She was head over heels in love with the mutt, and before we made it from the porch to the kitchen, she’d even named him Jack.”