The Christmas Sisters

“She did. She picked up your scent right away.”

He straightened. “Are you telling me I smell?”

“Be grateful that you do. It’s how she finds you. She is trained to look for human scent. If you’re panicking and sweating, you give off a stronger smell.”

“I was buried in snow. I can assure you not a drop of sweat emerged from my frozen pores.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. She sensed your fear.” She enjoyed teasing him. “And she could probably feel the vibrations in the snow where you were shivering. But seriously, thanks. It was a good thing you did and we’re all grateful.”

“She seems like a pretty good rescue dog to me.”

“Fetch is her favorite game, which helps. You need a dog who has a strong drive to retrieve. And also scenting is her superpower.”

They picked their way over the lumps of snow, back down the track to where Posy had parked her car. A fresh layer of soft powder dusted the surface of the snow and the freezing air numbed her cheeks.

“Have you rescued many stranded climbers and hikers?”

“Yes. And sometimes I’ll get called by the police to help search for a missing person. A couple of weeks ago Bonnie found an elderly guy with dementia who had gone walkabout. His family were beside themselves—apparently he’d managed to unlock the front door and wander. They were relieved when we found him.”

“Wait—” He stopped walking. “I thought a trailing dog is a different type of rescue dog.”

“More often than not it is. Dogs either air scent, where they follow any human scent, or they follow the trail of a specific scent. It’s rare for a dog to be trained to do both.”

“And she is?”

“What can I say? She’s a superstar.”

They carried on walking. “The man you found was all right?”

“He was pretty cold. Bonnie found him sheltering behind a hedge. Spent a few nights in the hospital, but doing okay now. Bonnie and I went to visit him.”

“Is there anything she can’t do?”

“She doesn’t love helicopter rides—” Posy pulled a face “—and we get a few of those.”

Bonnie jumped into the back of the car and wagged her tail exp

ectantly while Posy changed her boots and removed the outer layers of her clothing.

She stuck out her hand. “Have a great day.”

Luke stared at her hand. “I give you my whole body, and all you give me in return is your hand? The least you could do is invite me to join you for a mug of hot chocolate in that cozy café you run with your mother.”

“Can’t. Today I’m staff, not a customer.” She slid into the driver’s seat. “But I’ll bring you home a slab of chocolate cake.”

“Dinner, then. I’ll take you to the Glensay Inn. Roaring log fire, local ale, good food and great company.”

And all the gossip you could handle.

“I’ve lived here for most of my life, Luke. You don’t have to sell the charms of my own village to me. And tonight, I’m busy.”

“You, Posy McBride, are always busy. When you’re not out tracking down lost souls with your dog or guiding someone up an ice wall, you’re working in the café, tending the sheep or collecting eggs from your hens. Which, by the way, taste like nothing I’ve ever eaten before.”

“Everything tastes better here. It’s the air. I have to go.” She knew her mother would be overwhelmed. “It’s our busy period and Mom is handling it on her own because Vicky is feeling under the weather.”

He stood, legs spread, hands on hips. “You’re good to your mom.”

It seemed like a strange thing to say. “She’s my mother. Why wouldn’t I be?”