Free A Shiloh Christmas by Phyllis Reynolds Naylor Page B

did,” Dad says. “ I found it, anyway. It was out there in the tall grass, and I ran over it with the lawn mower.”
    Both girls gasp and stare at him, then start to giggle.
    â€œSo wasn’t I mean then?” he asks.
    â€œYes,” Dara Lynn decides. “But you never made me mix up all the food on my plate and put it in my milk and drink it.”
    â€œWhat?” I say.
    â€œDara Lynn, don’t exaggerate,” says Ma.
    â€œI’m not  ! Ruthie told me. When she was in first grade, she was playing around with her food—dropping pieces of bread in her milk—and her dad said she had to mix up the leftover food on her plate and put it in her milk and drink it down for all the starving children in Africa.”
    â€œLet’s not repeat things like this in front of a four-year-old,” Dad says, nodding toward Becky, who’s staring, mouth open.
    Ma changes the subject, but after Becky slides down from her chair to go watch the cartoon channel, Ma says, “Dara Lynn, I don’t mean to pry into your friends’ lives, but has Ruthie ever said that her father hurt her in any way?”
    â€œHe hurts her feelings !” Dara Lynn says defensively. “But he don’t hit her or nothing that I know of.”
    â€œWell, please tell us if he does,” Ma says.
    After Dara Lynn goes into the living room to watchTV with Becky, Ma’s rinsing off dishes in the sink, Dad’s there with his coffee, and I figure this is as good a time as any for my confession.
    â€œI got something I want to tell you,” I say, and get it over with fast. “I let Judd’s dogs loose before the fire got there.”
    I think I’ve said it clear enough, but they look like they don’t understand.
    â€œWhat do you mean, before the fire?” Dad asks.
    â€œI mean . . . before the fire got that far,” I tell him. “Just before the firemen came.”
    Ma grabs the back of her chair and slowly sits down, dish towel in her lap. “You went over there?” she asks. “That’s where you were?”
    â€œMarty!” Dad puts his coffee down so hard it thumps the table. “What in the world were you thinking?”
    â€œI know I shouldn’t have, but Judd was at work and I knew his dogs couldn’t get out, and—”
    â€œYou risked your life for two dogs?” cries Ma.
    And even though the three of us are trying to keep our voices down, Dara Lynn’s right there in the doorway, taking it all in.
    â€œI had my escape all worked out,” I say, which wasn’t entirely true. “I could see the flames way back in the trees, and I promised myself if it got up to twenty yardsbehind me, I’d drop my bike and roll down the bank into the creek.” Telling it now, I leave out the part about trying to save my bike, too.
    Dad lets out his breath and pushes away from the table, then just sits there staring at me. “You think fire’s that predictable? Don’t you think a spark could set the brush on fire along the creek and travel faster than you were going on your bike? Marty, you could have been trapped before you knew it!” His face looks all pulled out of shape.
    I swallow.
    â€œI could have kept this secret,” I say, like maybe I’d at least get points for that. “I didn’t have to tell you.”
    â€œI’m just so—so—astonished at your poor judgment!” Ma says. “I can understand how you’d want to save those dogs, but can you even imagine the grief you’d put us through if anything happened to you?”
    â€œI just . . . just didn’t think it would,” I answer. “But now, I see how it might. . . .” And then I shut up and wait for my punishment.
    Dad shakes his head. “I don’t know what to say,” he says at last.
    I don’t know either. Seems like every time I get in real