Free Dancing Through the Snow by Jean Little Page B

and button noses were adorable.
    Not one of them looked like the throwaway dog in the shed, the quivering, ragged, filthy creature who had lain so still on the examining table.
    Min could not speak. She pulled back and turned her head away.
    Toby glanced at her to see why she was not answering. Then he closed the book. “She was in a bad way, you said. Don’t compare her coat to these. Would she be about this size if she was healthy?” he asked, his voice quiet. “Was her nose black and did her eyes pop out a bit? Was she fluffy at all? I mean, will she be when she’s clean or does she have short hair like a pug?”
    Min turned back for another look. He had kept his finger in the place and he opened to it at once. Reluctantly, Min conjured up the picture of the wounded dog. “Her nose was jet black and her eyes did sort of pop a bit like those,” she got out, in a shaking voice. “She was so dirty and so hurt, I couldn’t tell much. She was creamy-beige maybe. And her bones stuck out. But she had hair …”
    He pointed to another picture. “Maybe she’s a Tibetan Spaniel? They look kind of the same. Champagne, they call this colour.”
    “That’s crazy,” Min said, recovering her composure. “Champagne is like gingerale, clear and bubbly.”
    “Maybe when she’s clean she’ll look totally different,” he suggested. “I’ll come to the vet’s office with you tomorrow. I want to see her for myself.”
    Min jerked upright. Who did he think he was anyway? How dare he just push in like that!
    “You can’t!” she cried. Then, turning her back on him, she rushed out of the room. She fetched up in the kitchen and leaned on the counter, collecting herself. Then she got a glass of water. She stood still and drank half of it before she started back. He must have heard it running. She carried it back with her as an excuse for taking off so abruptly, although one look at his face told her he was not fooled for a minute.
    “Jess’ll let me come,” he flung at her. “You wait and see. She isn’t your mother, you know. Where is your mother, anyway? I think you have your nerve moving in on Jess right at Christmas.”
    Furious and frightened both, she gulped down the rest of the water while she scrabbled around, searching for a reply that would flatten him. “Well, I didn’t ask you and, anyway, it’s none of your business,” she got out finally. “It was Jess’s idea to bring me here, not mine. I haven’t got a mother, if you must know, or a father or sisters either. So shut up.”
    Toby’s mouth opened and closed and his eyes dropped. Her outburst had really shocked him and she was glad.
    “Sorry,” he mumbled. “What … what happened to your family?”
    “I don’t know and I don’t care,” Min yelled, amazed at herself. “I thought you were going to have all those things hung on the tree before Jess comes back. Hadn’t you better get going?”
    Toby let the dog book slide off his lap and sprang to finish the job. The back of his neck looked very red.
    She took a deep breath and went to help. They worked together, without speaking. Min had to concentrate because her fingers felt all thumbs. But slowly the rage drained away, leaving her feeling empty and cold inside.
    “Pizza time!” Jess called, coming in bearing the familiar big boxes — two of them! “Tobe, run and get the other stuff from the van.”
    He was gone and back in seconds. The rich aroma of gooey cheese and spicy sausage reached their noses, and puppy mills were forgotten as they fell upon the food like hungry wolves. They were just getting well into their second slice when the telephone rang.
    “You get it, Min,” Jess groaned. “I’m too hungry to go. Maybe it’s somebody trying to sell me something. Just say no!”
    Min did her best to look totally calm as she went to pick up the receiver. She kept her back turned to the other two. “Dr. Hart’s residence,” she said.
    “Min?” Sybil Willis exclaimed.