1225 Christmas Tree Lane. Debbie Macomber

Beth suggested, and marched into the house, assuming everyone else would follow.

      The girls had obviously been playing with the puppies when Kent arrived because the second the door opened they swarmed onto the porch, eager as jailbirds to make an escape. Four were already out the door and racing down the porch steps.

      “Don’t just stand there,” Beth cried to her daughters. “Help me.”

      Laughing, Sophie and Bailey hurried in one direction while Beth went in the other. Even Kent got involved in the chase. The only one who didn’t move was Danielle. With her arms crossed, she remained immobile, as if moving a single inch would have dire consequences.

      Once the puppies were all inside the house, Beth brought Kent and Danielle in. Danielle perched on the arm of a recliner with her feet off the carpet. She seemed to fear that all the puppies would rush toward her at one time.

      Beth called out instructions. “Get the puppies into the laundry room,” she told the girls. “I’ll give them some treats.” This was not the way she’d planned to greet Kent, with puppies creating havoc.

      In the momentary quiet of the laundry room, Beth pressed one hand to her chest, which felt as though it was knotted with pain. She would not, could not, yield to the icy tide of disappointment or to the surprising burst of white-hot anger. Not now. Not here. She’d rather be dipped in Christmas-tree sap and rolled in holly leaves before she made a fool of herself in front of the girls.

      With a deep breath, Beth squared her shoulders and opened a bag of canine treats just as the girls herded in the last three pups. Whether it was the rustle of the bag or the distinctive aroma, Beth didn’t care, only that they all came on the run. On another calming breath, she promised to deal with her emotions later as she distributed the miniature bone-shaped biscuits.

      She slowly and deliberately wiped her hands on her jeans while arranging her features in her best hostess smile. Returning to the living room, she motioned Sophie and Bailey to the couch and nodded at her guests. “Now, where were we?”

      The girls exchanged a puzzled look and obeyed. At Beth’s question, they fixed their gazes on their father.

      “Are all those dogs … yours?” Danielle asked incredulously.

      “No, no. I’m finding homes for them.”

      “Where are your dogs?” Kent asked. “Do you still have Lucy and Bixby?”

      “Of course. They’re in the heated kennel in the back.”

      “It’s huge. You should see it, Dad,” Sophie said, growing more animated as she spoke. “Mom’s got six dogs of her own, and she helps with the Reading with Rover program at the library and … and she trains dogs and she just got a puppy herself.” She was out of breath by the time she completed her list.

      “He’s been sickly so she keeps him upstairs,” Bailey added.

      “In your bedroom?” Danielle’s eyes widened with what appeared to be horror.

      “You started to tell us about Danielle,” Bailey reminded her father, turning away from the other woman.

      “Well, yes.” Kent looked at Danielle. “She’s a … friend.”

      “A good friend,” Danielle murmured. “A very good friend.”

      “I can’t believe this.” Bailey paced their bedroom with her hands locked behind her back. “This is all wrong! Nothing is working out like we planned.”

      “When did Dad meet Danielle?” Sophie, the practical one, asked. “And where?”

      “Why are you asking me? I don’t know any more than you do.”

      Sitting on the edge of the bed with her hands in her hair—as if trying to pull out an answer—Sophie said, “Well, she wasn’t there when we visited him at Thanksgiving. And he didn’t say a word about her to me, but I thought he might’ve mentioned it to you.”

      “I wish.” Bailey threw a scowl at her sister. “If he had, we never would’ve invited him for Christmas. That’s for sure. Besides, I’d have told you. What’s Dad thinking? Or is he thinking? Anyone with half a brain can see she’s all wrong for him.”

      “She can’t be much older than we are.”

      “Did you see how she reacted to the puppies?” Bailey cried. “Like they were diseased or something. Sitting with her feet in the air, as if they’d mistake her leg for a tree trunk. Too bad they didn’t.”

      Sophie groaned. “And did you hear how she talked to me? Like I’m ten years old. For a minute I thought she was going to pinch my cheek and tell me how cute I was.”

      “Dad and Danielle? It’s a joke,” Bailey muttered. “A terrible joke.”

      “That’s what you said about the divorce—until it happened.”

      “I know. I just don’t want to believe this … whatever it is.” But she’d seen the way Danielle had looked at their father. Clearly, he didn’t have a clue. This woman was set on getting a big diamond ring from him. Bailey was bound and determined that wasn’t going to happen. Not on her watch. If ever their father had needed help, it was now. They had to do something before he made the second-biggest mistake of his life. The first had been going through with the divorce.

      “Well, you’d better come up with an idea fast, or you’ll be spending next Thanksgiving with Dad and your new stepmother. Just you and Danielle and Dad. ‘Cause I’m not going. I’ll be here with Mom.”

      “Don’t say that,” Bailey moaned. “Besides, you’ll have to come.”

      “Nope. I don’t like Danielle.”

      “Me, neither.”

      “There’s got to be something we can do,” Sophie said.

      “What?” Bailey asked in frustration, which was immediately followed by discouragement. “We can’t let this happen. We just can’t.”

      “I agree. Think, Bailey. You always come up with good plans.”

      “I’m trying, I’m trying.”

      Sophie kicked off her shoes and sat cross-legged on the bed. “First, we have to figure out what Danielle wants. No woman that young and perfect-looking would ever date our dad.”

      Bailey nodded. As harsh as it sounded, Sophie wasn’t saying anything she hadn’t already considered.

      “We could introduce her to a younger man.”

      “Who?” Bailey asked.

      “Jeff is cute.”

      “Mom’s foreman? He’s married. I don’t want to be responsible for breaking up a marriage in order to get our parents back together.”

      “Yeah, that’s bad,” Sophie agreed. “Okay, who else is there? It’s got to be somebody young. I mean, Dad’s way over forty.”

      “So is Mom.”

      “Oh, Mom,” Sophie said miserably, flopping back onto the bed. “She knew. She was so stoic when she introduced herself to Danielle, I wanted to scream.”

      Bailey had been too shocked to tear her eyes from her father. When she did look at her mother, she couldn’t bear the return of the polite frozen smile. From the moment she and Sophie had mentioned that their father would be coming for Christmas, they’d both noticed a change in her.

      In the beginning, when she’d heard the news, Beth had seemed confused and a bit panicky. Over dinner the night before, she’d peppered them with questions about their father. She was interested, all right. Interested and intrigued and, after a while, Bailey had sensed a definite excitement. She’d seemed happy, and for the first time since the divorce, they’d seen a brightness in her eyes.

      It