Ruby's Slippers by Leanna Ellis Read Free Book Online Page B

quiveringbody over and over, hugging him close. His feet press into my legs and stomach.
    With a chuckle, Craig hobbles into the room, carrying a couple of boxes. “I thought you two would like to see each other.”
    “You,” I cough to clear the emotion clogging my throat, “brought him from Kansas?”
    “All the way. He’s been staying with us. The kids kept him entertained. It didn’t seem necessary to move him here while you were still in a coma. And Abby didn’t …” He shrugs. “She was busy with a show, getting ready to go on tour, so she couldn’t care for him the way we could. When we heard you’d woken up, I checked with the facility to be sure you could have four-legged visitors.”
    “I was so worried! No one told me. I thought … I thought …” Hot tears fill my eyes. I bury my face in the wiry fur.
    “Your sister didn’t tell you?”
    “I haven’t seen her.”
    Craig frowns and leans a hip on the end of my bed. “We found him at your side after the storm. The kids hate to see him go. They’ve grown very attached, so I guess I’m going to have to provide a substitute when I get home.”
    “It’ll be good for them to have a pet.”
    He’s grinning at me in a crazy fashion.
    “What?”
    “It’s just so good to see you. You look great. You do.” His voice turns husky and he coughs into his fisted hand. “We were worried about you.”
    “I’m sorry.” I open my arms wide, welcoming a hug.
    He smells of sunshine and, surprisingly, sugar. I want to hold on to him, a piece of home. Otto squirms between us, and I pat Craig on the back. When he backs away, I catch aglimmer of emotion in his eyes. Feeling awkward at the attention, I scramble for something to say. “Did Lindsey come?”
    “She’s with the kids at the hotel. It’s a couple of hours south of here. We’re taking them to Disneyland this week. Want to go? I’ll get you some mouse ears.”
    I laugh, stroking the soft fur along Otto’s back. He nuzzles my arm and licks my hand where tape once kept my IV attached.
    “I brought you something. I hope you can eat it.” He picks up a bakery box and sets it on the end of my bed. “If not, then I will.” He winks.
    “No you won’t. I’m tired of mushy food.”
    “Maybe you should check with your doctor first.” He peels back a sticker and lifts the lid.
    Inside are a dozen peaks, like little mountains of snowy frosting. “Mugcakes!”
    “Here,” he says, “have a cupcake.”
    We share a red velvet cupcake, the cake so moist it slides right down my throat. It tastes like heaven. Otto gives me the look , and I let him lick the cream-cheese frosting off my fingers. As the minutes grow quiet between Craig and I, comforts of home give me courage to ask. “The farm is gone then?”
    He turns and brings the other cardboard box and places it in my lap. Otto snuggles against my side, licking his paw. “This is all we could salvage.”
    Unable to speak, I stare at the small container. My home, memories, and life compressed to the size of a shoebox.
    As I slide my finger along the pressed cardboard edge, Craig tells me of my friends and neighbors and the damage caused by the storm. My house was the only one demolished, as if the tornado had made a straight trajectory for it.
    “It’s a miracle,” he says, “you two weren’t killed.”
    My throat tightens.
    “I should have stopped you that day from going back to the farm.”
    I attempt a laugh, but it comes out garbled and I end up coughing. “Don’t do that to yourself. Don’t feel guilty.”
    He gives a self-conscious shrug. “That little fellow there, he was found right next to you, refusing to leave.”
    I rub the tips of Otto’s ears as a thank-you for his faithfulness.
    “The house,” Craig continues, “was a total loss. Randy took what furniture might be salvageable and is trying to fix it up in his spare time. The basement was flooded, everything ruined from mold and exposure. Folks from the church rounded