Gus Martin passed away two months after Christmas with Fuzzy nestled on his lap and Jace and Adaline sitting at his bedside in room 212.
In the weeks leading up to his passing, Gus taught Adaline how to play chess. He shared stories about his beloved wife, Marilyn, for as long as Jace would listen. And he let Gram drag him to every group activity the senior center offered, until the effort to get out of bed became too much.
When the three-foot Christmas tree in his uncle’s room began to drop needles on the floor, Jace replaced it with a new bookshelf he’d built himself at the workbench in Gus’s barn. Then Jace lined the shelves with the horse show pictures he’d found in the storage closet. In Gus’s final days, he spent hours looking at those photographs. When he died, the creased picture of Marilyn with her horse and Charlie the Cavalier was tucked inside the breast pocket of his new striped pajamas, right next to his heart.
“Are you sure you’re ready for this? We can wait if you want to spend a few minutes alone out here,” Adaline said to Jace on a cool spring day three weeks after the memorial service they’d held for Gus in the senior center lobby. Most of the residents had attended—due in large part to Gram’s not-so-subtle prompting—as well as all three Comfort Paws dogs.
Jace shielded his eyes from the sun and lifted his gaze toward the new sign attached to the front of the barn. “I don’t need any time. I’m excited about this. It’s what Gus wanted. It just feels right, doesn’t it?”
“It does.” Adaline rose up on her tiptoes to wrap an arm around his neck and reel him in for a kiss. “And I’m glad you’re excited, because I’m ecstatic. So are the dogs. Maple is having a hard time getting them to sit still for a picture.”
Jace laughed. “If anyone can handle getting four dogs to sit pretty for a photo, it’s Comfort Paws’ intrepid leader.”
“Good point,” Adaline said, just as Maple let out a whoop of triumph.
“Nailed it!” She held the camera aloft and did a little dance in the field of wildflowers that had taken over the pasture where the barn sat.
Off to the right, on the section of the farm where Jace had planted new seedlings, tiny Christmas trees had begun to pop up from the soil. Adaline was looking forward to the days when their home would forever smell like Christmas Eve.
“Okay, the picture is done. Who’s got the champagne?” Ford asked, casting a questioning glance from person to person. All the Comfort Paws girls were there, plus the significant others of those who were coupled up—Ford, Jace and Cam.
And the dogs, naturally. Although, they’d stopped paying attention. All four of them had commenced with a game of chase among the flowers.
“I’ve got it.” Belle thrust the bottle at Jace. “We all agreed that you should do the honors. We’ve got another bottle on ice to drink afterward. You know, once you do the thing.”
Jace took the bottle of bubbly and turned it over in his hands. It was from a winery right there in the Hill Country. “Is it time, then?”
“Wait just a sec.” Maple aimed her camera at Jace. “Okay, go ahead.”
Jace cleared his throat, and before he spoke, his eyes found Adaline’s. Her heart rose to her throat as they shared a quiet moment.
Thank you for this, he mouthed.
She blew him a kiss.
There was no need to thank her. Bequeathing the barn to Comfort Paws had been Gus’s idea, not hers. He’d brought it up out of the blue one day in late January, weeks after she’d told him all about her botched attempt at securing a training center for her therapy dog group. Adaline had just been making conversation, peppering Gus with chatter to keep him alert and engaged.
But the idea had taken root. Shortly after he’d announced his intention to leave all his property to Jace to start a new Christmas tree farm from scratch—with the exception of the barn, which he wanted to donate to Comfort Paws—Gus had arranged for a lawyer to come to the senior center so he could make things official.
This was all Gus’s doing, not Adaline’s. Although, admittedly, the ceremony had been her idea. It wasn’t really necessary. But, to the surprise of no one, she might’ve gotten a little carried away.
Jace cleared his throat and aimed the champagne bottle at the side of the barn. “I hereby christen this building as the Gus and Marilyn Martin Memorial Dog Training Center, in loving memory and gratitude for their generous contribution to Comfort Paws and in honor of their mutual love for animals.”
Tears pricked Adaline’s eyes as he drew back the bottle and smashed it against rough red wood. Champagne sprayed in every direction, and her friends cheered so long and loud that she knew they’d have sore throats later. Dogs barked in the distance, and a bunny hopped past her, seeking the cool, damp shade of the barn.
It was springtime in Texas, and that meant one thing in the Hill Country: bluebonnet season. The violet-blue blooms blanketed the land as far as the eye could see, and Adaline couldn’t think of a more beautiful place for a fresh, new beginning.
Keep reading for an excerpt from Deadlines, Donuts & Dreidels by Jennifer Wilck.