Chapter 6: Worthy Of Friendship

Moonlight shone through Elizabeth's bedroom window, pouring through the thick glass like molten silver. It sheathed her small, upright frame in an otherworldly array, highlighting the fact that her chest heaved as she gulped down cold air as quickly and as quietly as she could to calm her frantic heartbeat.

She'd had another nightmare.

They didn't plague Liz very often. But when she did fall helplessly into their clutches, they were dreadful. Horrific...and so incredibly vivid it was like she actually was present in those hellish dreamscapes.

Try as she might, when she woke up she could never fully recall what they were about. But her body remembered. Sometimes she woke up sweating, as if she had been running really fast. Sometimes she woke up crying, a bloodcurdling scream threatening to tear itself ruthlessly out of her throat...her chest...her very soul. Sometimes she woke coughing and gasping into her pillow, believing that smoke was plugging her nose and filling her lungs with its terrible fumes.

Tonight, she woke with all those symptoms.

Liz rubbed her running nose vigorously, hoping to oust that acrid, phantasmal smell. She wiped the sticky beads of sweat from her brow and then the hot tears from her cheeks, trying to scrub away the bad, anxious feelings as she did so.

She used to tell Sam about these kinds of dreams. But he'd always been so worried about her when she confided in him. Every time she told him about her nightmares, he would get this funny, almost scared look on his face and ask her what they were about. When she said she couldn't remember, he tended to respond with a hug and a "It's probably for the best you don't remember, butterball."

But for days afterward, Liz would catch him watching over her with a troubled expression in his eyes. When she would look his way and sometimes ask rather testily what was wrong, he would quickly recover and hide his concern behind a quip or an excuse—but it was always too late. She could read him so well...she had seen his uneasiness.

About a year ago she had finally had enough, so she had stopped telling him. She had grown tired of that particular look on his face, of him babying her. She wasn't a baby! She was ten years old! Too old to be having nightmares. And certainly too old to wake up crying, like real babies did.

Sighing, she dried the last of her tears on Bunny's fuzzy body. "You won't tell on me, will you?" she asked her favorite stuffed animal softly.

Bunny gazed back at her, loyally silent, as always.

Liz smiled gratefully and kissed her on her battered nose. "Let's open the window a little, Bunny. I'm hot," she whispered, sliding out of bed.

The girl ghosted over to the huge window and tugged at the latch, grimacing. Even though it wasn't snowing, it was so cold outside that it was stuck tight! Grunting determinedly, she gave one last heave.

"Ouch!" she hissed in pain, snatching her hand back.

The latch had given way but her finger had jammed into it, tearing through her skin. Scowling down at the droplets of blood appearing in a jagged line right below her nail, she stuck her finger defiantly in her mouth and sucked, eyes drawn to the snowy wonderland glowing in the moonlight below.

It was so pretty outside. It should've been like this on Christmas Eve. Instead she and Sam had been holed up inside the house, hiding from the howling snowstorm.

Liz had been so worried that Santa Claus wouldn't be able to find their house. She'd been so afraid he and his nine reindeer would get hurt. The blizzard had been terribly violent!

"How will Santa be able to drive his sleigh safely?" she had demanded anxiously of Sam. "How will the reindeer even be able to see?"

To help soothe her worries, Sam had poured her a mug of her favorite, rich hot chocolate garnished with a handful of tiny marshmallows. Once she'd had it cradled in her hands, he had then curled up with her on the couch to reread Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer for perhaps the tenth time this Christmas season.

"Santa will make it here safely, honey. Don't worry." The man gently tapped a finger on the shining red nose of the reindeer gracefully soaring over the book's front cover. "Remember, he has Rudolph to guide all of them—and he has a bit of magic of his own!"

Elizabeth hoped the weather would be better for Santa, Rudolph, and the other reindeer next year. Ideally, it should be exactly like it was tonight: shiningly clear without a cloud marring the sky.

Her gaze was traveling admiringly over the glittering front yard when suddenly her heart skipped a beat, eyes widening in delighted surprise. Then an elated smile spread across her lips, joy erasing all lingering stresses caused by her nightmare.

Red was here!

She'd recognize his car anywhere. Though how he drove something that wasn't a truck in this deep, powdery snow she had no idea—even if the car did have chains on the tires.

She hugged Bunny excitedly before placing her on the bed. Liz was wearing her flannel pajamas but she still paused in her mad dash to the door to put on her fuzzy red slippers.

As she raced down the stairs, she could smell coffee brewing in the kitchen. The living room was dark, but the Christmas tree was plugged in, lighting the way for her. As she flew past it, she took note of the brightly wrapped gifts and one rather large red box with...holes?...resting beneath its green boughs. Then she skidded to a halt just as she entered the kitchen so she wouldn't run headlong into Red.

Liz clasped her hands behind her back, rocking forward on her toes from the force of her stop. "Red! Hi!" she beamed breathlessly up at him.

"Don't you ever sleep?" Red teased, kneeling down so he could be on eye level with her. "Come here, sweetheart."

She threw herself into his arms, hugging him tightly. "I've missed you!" she exclaimed into his neck. "We were wondering if you were going to make it before New Year's. We kept the tree up just in case."

"I'm glad you did!" he smiled, pulling back to meet her happy gaze. "It looks really beautiful. Did you hang all those ornaments yourself?"

Elizabeth nodded, dimpling up at him. "Sam even let me go up on the ladder this year and hang the ones at the very top!"

The tree was definitely an imaginative display of a ten-year-old's charming taste in decor. Red hid an affectionately amused grin against her brow, then kissed it for good measure. "You did a great job, Lizzy. I'd actually love to go sit out there and look at it with you. But let me grab some coffee first?"

She nodded and considerately dropped her arms.

"And while I'm at it," his eyes twinkled knowingly at her, "do you want me to make you some hot chocolate?"

"Yes please!" she grinned winningly at him.

"Well!" the man chuckled. "That settles that!" Right before he let her go, he suddenly paused, his sharp eyes noticing her scabbing finger. He gently caught hold of her hand and lightly held the cut finger between his thumb and forefinger. "How'd you do this, hmm?"

"Oh." She'd actually forgotten about that. "It doesn't hurt anymore."

He arched a brow at her expectantly.

She sighed, resigned. "I was trying to open my window," she explained. "The latch was stuck...so I forced it. And my finger got cut on it."

"Mmm." He searched her face for a moment but luckily didn't ask her why she was up so early in the morning. She was glad because she didn't want to tell him she'd woken up crying due to a nightmare. "Why don't you go get a bandaid from the bathroom cabinet and I'll meet you on the sofa."

"Okay."

Ten minutes later, she was curled companionably against Red on the couch, finger freshly bandaged and a mug of hot chocolate warming her hands. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. He was gazing at the Christmas tree, but his eyes had a faraway look in them. She wondered what he was thinking of...work? His family?

Elizabeth looked pensively down at her drink, worrying her lower lip.

A couple years ago, she had been told why Red was suddenly away so much more often than he used to be.

For days on end she had been peppering Sam with questions about Red...well, maybe pestering Sam about Red was a more accurate description of her behavior...wondering where he was, why he didn't come around as much, had she done something wrong?, was he mad at her?, was he mad at Sam?, was he just with his family?...

Finally Sam had sat her down one evening and had relayed to her, as gently as possible, that Red's wife and daughter had both died in an accident, around the time Liz had been six years old. Losing them had made Red sad. Very sad. After they had passed away, he had gotten a new job, and this job took him traveling far and wide all over the world.

"Now that I've told you this, Elizabeth, you'll have to promise me that you'll never bring it up to him."

She had gazed up at Sam with wide eyes.

"Red doesn't like to talk about what happened to his family. Not ever. It hurts him inside. Do you understand, honey?"

She had understood. And she had promised Sam (she had even had crossed her heart) that she wouldn't talk about Red's family with him.

Even though she was young, she could see how every Christmas after was so difficult for him. There would be times when he wouldn't smile, when his eyes would gleam so sadly. She knew it was because he didn't have his own family to make holiday memories with anymore.

She hoped he realized that she and Sam could be his family.

Red and Liz both glanced suddenly towards the staircase as the sound of shower water rushing through the pipes echoed throughout the house. "I guess Sam is awake," she remarked.

"He probably heard you galloping around the house and figured he might as well get up," Red chuckled.

"I wouldn't say 'gallop' around him, Red," the girl chided.

"Oh?" The man looked over at her. "Why not?"

Liz took a nervous sip of hot chocolate. "Umm...he didn't tell you?"

"No..." The beginnings of a suspicious frown were crinkling his brow. "Tell me what?"

She winced. Why hadn't she just kept her big mouth shut?

"Lizzy?" His tone had that soft, growly note to it, warning her that she better tell him the truth.

"Okay, okay." She puffed out her cheeks, then let the air out in an apprehensive whoosh. "Well, you know how Sam likes to ride horses, and you know much I love horses. So he decided to take me riding. It was my first time. The horse I was riding, Peanut, well, he sort of...took off. We galloped!" Her eyes glistened dreamily. "It was like we were flying. It was the...coolest thing I've ever...like..." she paused, searching for the right word.

"Experienced?" Red offered helpfully.

She nodded pensively. Then she blinked, coming out of her reverie...and chanced a hesitant look in his direction. Seeing that he was waiting patiently for the rest of the story, withholding judgement, she took in a deep breath and continued, "But I fell off and broke my arm. It wasn't Peanut's fault, Red. I didn't hang on tight enough and I didn't make him stop and I fell."

"You broke your arm?" And no one told him? Of all the fucking—

She was watching him closely.

Squashing that train of thought so she wouldn't be able to read it in his face, he raised a brow again at her instead.

He was going to have to have a little chat with Sam later.

"Well, I guess I didn't," she amended. "The fall broke it."

Oh. Wonderful. She was at that age where she could play with semantics. "Which arm broke?" he managed to ask calmly, but he wasn't able to swallow the protective growl that slid traitorously into his tone.

Liz glanced at him warily. He was using that gravelly voice. She didn't want him fussing over her! She was a big girl now. Setting her mug down on the coffee table, she held out her left arm. "Right here," she pointed at the top, near the shoulder.

Red reached out and lightly fingered the area.

"It's all healed now," she informed him proudly.

"Mmm."

She'd been lucky she hadn't crushed her shoulder!

"Sam blames Peanut. But...it wasn't his fault!" the girl repeated, her shining eyes beseeching him to believe her.

The man gentled his expression. "Let me guess...Sam won't let you back on Peanut."

"Peanut, or any horse," she confided sadly. "I really want to ride, Red."

Yes, he had really wanted her to ride too. Sam had told Red just how hard it was for her in school the older she got. Oh, Liz had some friends, but no one she was kindred spirits with. She was smart as a whip and did extremely well in her classes, which many kids found off-putting, like she was showing off all the time.

Elizabeth put on a brave face, but Sam could tell she was suffering quietly inside for lack of true companionship with boys and girls her age. Sam and Red had agreed that the local equestrian club would be a good place for her to meet new people and, at the same time, be around one of her favorite animals. Sam must have had a near heart-attack, seeing Lizzy tumble from the back of a runaway horse. Red could almost hear her bones crunching as they broke.

Yes, he had to admit that if he'd been in Sam's position, he probably would have banned her from keeping the company of horses as well!

"He just doesn't want you to get hurt, baby."

"I know," she huffed. "But I know now what I did wrong, and I won't do it again." Her voice was tinged with frustration. "How can I get any better if I can't practice? I have to do it to be good at it!"

Touché, darling.

"Almost all the kids at school ride. They talk about the trails they go on a lot together with their dogs and horses."

The wistfulness in her tone made his heart twist painfully in his chest. She needed this. It would be good for her. He had to put what was good for her first, before his admittedly selfish desire to keep her safe from any and all harm. As much as he knew he and Sam both wanted to, they couldn't keep her caged forever. She had to test her wings.

And horseback riding? While it wasn't the safest of activities, it certainly was what she needed.

Red set his coffee mug down on the table next to hers. "I'll tell you what," he whispered conspiratorially.

Her full attention was immediately fixed on him.

"You promise me that you'll follow whatever safety rules Sam will lay out for you regarding horses, and I'll convince him to let you ride."

"You will?" she asked excitedly.

"I will," he replied seriously. "But you have to promise me."

Her blue eyes shone. "I promise, Red."

"Good." He tweaked her nose affectionately. "Now, in the meantime, while you wait for me to boss Sam around..."

She giggled.

"...You see that big red box under the tree?"

"The one with the holes?"

"Mmm. I want you to go open it."

Liz bounced up from the couch and knelt down before the box. Carefully she lifted the lid, peeking inside—and gasped.

"I think he'll keep you busy until the snow thaws enough for you to ride," Red smiled as she turned around to face him.

In her arms she cradled a beautiful black and sable puppy. Her expression was one of incredulous wonderment. "He's mine, Red? He's really mine?"

"He's all yours, Lizzy."

Tears of happiness glittered in her eyes and she buried her face in the puppy's thick coat, sinking to her knees. "Hi there, puppy. Hi! You are so cute...look at you!"

The puppy licked her nose and cheeks with his soft, pink tongue, little tail wagging so hard his whole lower half trembled back and forth.

Red smiled tenderly down at them.

It had occurred to him over this past year that with all the time Lizzy was spending outdoors, away from Sam's vigilance, she needed a companion who would be a friend...and, once it grew up, could eventually protect her if something were to happen.

Sam had scoffed at Red's paranoia, but had agreed that the girl wouldn't be so lonely with a puppy to train and love. Sam had wanted to get one locally for her, but Red had stopped him. He'd been traveling through Austria at the time, pursuing a lead for a business opportunity. One quiet and calm afternoon, he'd happened upon a small farm situated just on the outskirts of the town he'd been passing through, overlooking acres of green where sheep grazed in carefree abandon. Sheepdogs had watched over the flock, but they had been unlike any sheepdogs he'd ever seen before.

Red rose from the couch and knelt beside her. "He comes all the way from Europe." Reaching out, he ruffled the puppy's ears, grinning as he tried to nip at his fingers playfully. "He's a Sarplaninac. Usually dogs like him guard livestock."

"Like sheep?"

"Yes, but they've been known to guard cattle, goats, horses...even chickens!"

"But..." she looked up at him, brow creasing in confusion. "We don't have any of those animals."

"I know," the man smiled. "Even though his parents and siblings guard animals, that won't be what he will do. He is here especially for you, Lizzy."

She gave him another beaming smile before she turned her gaze back down to the puppy wiggling happily in her lap. "How do you say his breed's name again?"

"Sarplaninac."

"Sarpleka..." she tried the foreign word on her tongue, wrinkling her nose as she mispronounced it.

"Shar-pla-nee-natz," Red helpfully reiterated.

"Sarplaninac," she repeated proudly, cuddling the puppy closer. "He's beautiful, Red. And so fluffy!"

"He is. And he'll be a big boy when he's grown, Lizzy."

"How big?"

"Very," he told her gravely. "He'll probably be about this tall when he's all grown up," he demonstrated by raising his hand impressively high off the ground.

The girl's eyes were wide with awe. "I didn't even know dogs could get that huge!"

"Since dogs like him usually have to protect their charges against big animals like wolves, coyotes, mountain lions...even bears...they need to be just as big to scare those animals away."

"Yeah," she agreed thoughtfully, looking down at the pup curiously snuffling her palms. "That makes sense." Then a grin curved her lips. "Looking at him now, it's hard to imagine that he'll get so big though!"

"It'll happen before you know it! You know how animals grow up faster than we do."

"I'll blink and he'll suddenly be taller than me!" she giggled.

"Only when he stands on his hind legs," Red grinned back.

Elizabeth cupped the puppy's fluffy face in her palms and dropped a kiss on his perfectly black nose. "I think he really likes me."

"With the way he's licking you all over your cheeks like that? Of course he does!" As the man watched her cuddle the dog, his expression turned a little more pensive. "These dogs, Lizzy...they're very loyal to their families. Besides being excellent guards, they also make wonderful friends. I think this little guy will be both to you."

Her smile was knowing, and suddenly she was older than her years. "Because you can't be here with me all the time."

Red gazed down at her, admittedly taken aback—but then again, this wasn't the first time she had outwardly shown her keen insightfulness into how people thought and behaved. "Is that why you think I brought him home for you?"

"Isn't it?" she asked softly, running her fingers through the puppy's downy fur. "I know Sam's been telling you things."

His eyes searched hers intently.

"I know he's told you that I don't have many friends." She swallowed around the sudden shiver in her throat and looked quickly away, embarrassed.

Anger flared, and his eyes flashed with it. She was vulnerable...hurt...and besides giving her this puppy, there was nothing else he could really do about it. "Anyone who doesn't want to be friends with you is a little piece of—"

Elizabeth's wide eyes snapped to his, half in shock, half in curiosity for what his colorful expletive would be.

He clenched his jaw shut, forcibly reining in his temper. "...Isn't thinking clearly," he finished with a quiet snarl.

She snorted self-deprecatingly, a very adult response he wasn't expecting. But the way she bowed her head and hid her face behind her long hair was a physical reminder that even though she sometimes showed understanding beyond her age, she was still growing up...she was still a child who not only needed guidance, but reassurance as well.

"I mean it," he told her firmly. "Look at me, Lizzy." His tone brooked no argument.

Rubbing the puppy's ears, she reluctantly met his eyes.

"You are a smart girl. Sweet. Clever. Funny—witty, even," he listed her admirable attributes without hesitation. "You are loyal. Caring. Loving. And you are strong."

Very strong. Red had a feeling that as she grew up, the inner strength glowing inside her would mature into fiery resilience. She'd be a formidable woman, just like her mother had been.

"You," he put a soft emphasis on the word, "are worthy of friendship."

She smiled tentatively at him. "We're friends right, Red?"

"Yes, Elizabeth." He reached out to affectionately tuck a lock of sleep-tangled hair back behind her ear. "We're friends. And even though I'm away on business a lot, I will always come back to you. It's what friends do."

She favored him with a wider, more assured smile before looking back down at the now sleepy puppy in her lap. They sat there on the floor in comfortable silence for a while, each gently stroking the puppy's coat.

"Red?"

"Hmm?"

"Thank you," she whispered.

"Merry Christmas, sweetheart."