"Not only that," Carter rushed to tell his father, "when we first plugged in the tree, the lights only flickered and then they went out."

"And after Rusty got here, Carter plugged in the lights and they worked," Bailey said, so happy and excited that her words ran together.

Carter frowned at his sister. "I wanted to tell Dad that."

"Can he stay?" Ignoring him, Bailey turned to her father, eyes wide.

"I'm sorry, kids, we've already been through this."

"David, here's the number for the shelter," his mother said as she came into the room.

"I'm going to call and find out what happened." His father took the slip of paper and reached for the telephone. Carter stood by his side. He wanted to learn what had happened, too.

His father seemed to wait for a long time. Carter could hear the phone ringing. Holding the receiver away from his mouth, his dad muttered, "The shelter must be closed for the night."

Hope flared to life inside Carter. Maybe they'd have to keep Rusty overnight. Maybe-

"Hello," his father said, dashing Carter's hopes. "Yes, I understand the shelter's closed." He seemed to be listening. "We're the family who brought Rusty. He's the reddish stray that showed up in the schoolyard and followed my son home. I dropped Rusty off at the shelter yesterday afternoon. Well, Rusty's now here."

This announcement was followed by a short silence. Carter's father was shaking his head, as if the person on the other end of the line was arguing with him.

"I assure you he's here."

Another silence.

"Well, you might want to go and check his cage."

The person from the shelter must've said something else, because his father grew quiet once more. "He's going to check the cage where Rusty was put earlier," he told Carter.

The shelter employee was obviously back on the phone.

"Yes, he's here," his father explained for the third time. "I don't have a clue how he escaped or how he managed to get back to this house, but somehow or other, he did."

"Can he stay the night?" Carter pleaded. "Just one more night. Please, Dad, please."

"Yes, I'll bring him back in the morning," his father was saying.

Carter wrapped his arms around Rusty's neck. He had no idea how the dog had found his way across miles and miles of snow-covered roads to their house-but he'd always known Rusty possessed special powers.

His father hung up the phone. "He can only stay until morning, Carter."

Carter nodded. It wasn't long enough, but for this one last night, Rusty was his.

CHAPTER Eighteen

"They're here!" Rosalie shouted from the living room. Her voice rose with excitement. She'd gone to look out the window every few minutes, waiting for their daughter and her husband.

"Is it Donna?" Harry asked. He was no less excited than his wife.

"Yes," Rosalie said, letting the curtain fall back into place.

Harry struggled to get to his feet, and instantly Rosalie was at his side. She brought him the walker he hated and then slid her arm around his waist, guiding him into the hall.

"How do I look?" she asked.

Harry pretended to study her, noting her carefully combed hair, a soft lovely gray, and the antique cameo she wore with her dark green dress. "You couldn't be more beautiful if you'd tried."

"Oh, Harry."

At his words, Harry could see the blush of pleasure that crept across her cheeks.

The door opened and in breezed his daughter, with Richard, their son-in-law, both of them laden with parcels and bags. Soon everyone was kissing and hugging. Rosalie had tears in her eyes and, for that matter, so did Harry. Seeing his daughter renewed his waning strength.

All their married life, Rosalie had been a gracious hostess, and as soon as Donna and Richard had taken their coats off, she led them to the formal living room and brought out a tray of coffee and cookies.

Donna helped serve, and before long they were all sitting together, chatting and catching up. Harry watched his daughter's animated gestures, and his heart swelled with love. In appearance, Donna resembled Rosalie's family, with her dark brown hair and eyes. Her personality, though, was all his. She was practical but enjoyed taking a risk now and then.

Donna was a teacher and had taught kindergarten and first grade for nearly thirty years. She was close to retirement, as was Richard. They'd met in college and married soon after. They'd presented him with two wonderful grandsons, two years apart.

"Tell me about Scotty," Rosalie said, eager for news of their youngest grandson. In a recent conversation, Donna had hinted that she had something special to share.

Donna and Richard smiled at each other, and Richard reached for his wife's hand.

"Scott's engaged!" Donna said happily.

"Is it Lana?" Harry asked. Their grandson had stopped by to visit in September and had brought a young woman to meet them. Harry recognized the look in his eyes. The boy was in love.

"Yes. Everyone likes Lana," Donna said. "We're all so pleased. Rich and I recently met her parents, and they're just as thrilled as we are."

"When's the wedding?" Rosalie asked.

"February," Donna told her mother.

"So soon!" his wife trilled, her eyes glowing. "Oh, I'm so glad."

"Lana wanted to wait for June," Donna said, "but Scott said a Valentine wedding was more romantic."

"Who would've guessed that about Scott?" Richard asked.

Rosalie glanced at Harry and they exchanged a smile. "He gets his romantic heart from his grandfather."

"Dad?" Donna did an exaggerated double take.