A Christmas Message - Debbie Macomber Page 0,48

your sister and brother-in-law supposed to return?” Wynn asked with what seemed to require an extraordinary amount of effort.

“Zelda said they should be home by three.”

“That late?”

K.O. couldn’t keep the grin off her face. It was just as she’d hoped. She wouldn’t have to argue about the problem with his Free Child theories, since he’d been able to witness for himself the havoc they caused.

Straightening, K.O. suggested they listen to some more music.

“That won’t disturb them, will it?” he asked when she got up to put on another CD. Evidently he had no interest in anything that might wake the girls.

“I should hope not.” She found the Christmas CD she’d given to Zelda two years earlier, and inserted it in the player. It featured a number of pop artists. Smiling over at Wynn, she lowered the volume. John Denver’s voice reached softly into the room, singing “Joy to the World.”

Wynn turned off the floor lamp, so the only illumination came from the Christmas-tree lights. The mood was cheerful and yet relaxed.

For the first time in days they were alone. The incident with Wynn’s father and the demands of the twins were the last things on K.O.’s mind.

Wynn placed his arm across the back of the sofa and she sat close to him, resting her head against his shoulder. All they needed now was a glass of wine and a kiss or two. Romance swirled through the room with the music and Christmas lights. Wynn must’ve felt it, too, because he turned her in his arms. K.O. started to close her eyes, anticipating his kiss, when she caught a movement from the corner of her eye.

She gasped.

A mouse...a rodent ran across the floor.

Instantly alarmed, K.O. jerked away from Wynn.

He bolted upright. “What is it?”

“A mouse.” She hated mice. “There,” she cried, covering her mouth to stifle a scream. She pointed as the rodent scampered under the Christmas tree.

Wynn leaped to his feet. “I see it.”

Apparently so did Zero, because he let out a yelp and headed right for the tree. Zorro followed.

K.O. brought both feet onto the sofa and hugged her knees. It was completely unreasonable—and so clichéd—to be terrified of a little mouse. But she was. While logic told her a mouse was harmless, that knowledge didn’t help.

“You have to get it out of here,” she whimpered as panic set in.

“I’ll catch it,” he shouted and dived under the Christmas tree, toppling it. The tree slammed against the floor, shattering several bulbs. Ornaments rolled in all directions. The dogs ran for cover. Fortunately the tree was still plugged in because it offered what little light was available.

Unable to watch, K.O. hid her eyes. She wondered what Wynn would do if he did manage to corner the rodent. The thought of him killing it right there in her sister’s living room was intolerable.

“Don’t kill it,” she insisted and removed her hands from her eyes to find Wynn on his hands and knees, staring at her.

The mouse darted across the floor and raced under the sofa, where K.O. just happened to be sitting.

Zero and Zorro ran after it, yelping frantically.

K.O. screeched and scrambled to a standing position on the sofa. Not knowing what else to do, she bounced from one cushion to the other.

Zero had buried his nose as far as it would go under the sofa. Zorro dashed back and forth on the carpet. As hard as she tried, K.O. couldn’t keep still and began hopping up and down, crying out in abject terror. She didn’t care if she woke the girls or not, there was a mouse directly beneath her feet...somewhere. For all she knew, it could have crawled into the sofa itself.

That thought made her jump from the middle of the sofa, over the armrest and onto the floor, narrowly missing Zero. The lamp fell when she landed, but she was able to catch it seconds before it crashed to the floor. As she righted the lamp, she flipped it on, provided a welcome circle of light.

Meanwhile, Barry Manilow crooned out “The Twelve Days of Christmas.”

Still on all fours, Wynn crept across the carpet to the sofa, which he overturned. As it pitched onto its back, the mouse shot out.

Directly at K.O.

She screamed.

Zero yelped.

Zorro tore fearlessly after it.

K.O. screamed again and grabbed a basket in which Zelda kept her knitting. She emptied the basket and, more by instinct than anything else, flung it over the mouse, trapping him.

Wynn sat up with a shocked look. “You got him!”

Both dogs stood

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