Who would be wanderingaround Jack’s barn?And why?
I strode across the lawn, ready to confront anyone who would even think of messing with my much-loved llama.Okay, possibly only much-loved by me—the rest of town might be on the fence.I wasn’t sure if the gossip mill was still talking about the fact that Jack had been found holding Santa’s hat.Which I guess was better than holding the bag—Santa’s bag.Yeah, no, not really.
As I reached the gate, I saw that it was closed and latched.That was a good sign.Maybe whoever I saw was just cutting through my backyard.It did happen occasionally.Sometimes kids—or even my neighbor—would use my yard as a shortcut.
Still, I needed to check on Jack.He’d been out for his morning graze, but I had put him back in his stall while my mom and I were in Bar Harbor, much to his chagrin.He loved his free-range time and his favorite snack of dandelions were in full bloom.
I approached the small barn and saw that one of the heavy double doors stood cracked open.I knew I had made sure it was securely shut when I left.Carefully, I crept, listening for anyone inside.I couldn’t hear anything other than the leaves rustling in the trees, birds chirping, and the occasional car passing from the road in front of the pub.
Cautiously, I inched the door open, making sure the old hinges didn’t squeak.When the door was ajar just enough, I squeezed inside.I paused, listening.
There wasn’t any noise except for the rhythmic chomping of Jack as he grazed on his hay.From where I stood, I could see Jack’s woolly back.Then, a moment later, his head poked up.But rather than acknowledge me as he normally would, his eyes drifted into sleepy slits, and he rumbled his llama purr of contentment.
I heard a watery snuffling sound.Then another.I frowned.That didn’t sound like the noise of someone coming to torment my llama.I crept further into the barn and saw a head resting on Jack’s side.The person’s small hand scratched his neck just below his long ears.
Well, that explained his happiness.
After a moment, I recognized who it was.
“Hannah?”I said.
I hadn’t expected the teenager to be back to look after Jack for another week.She normally came by a few times a week to help me out, but she was supposed to be gone to summer camp up in northern Maine.
The girl lifted her head, startled.And now I knew that the sound had been.She was crying.
Embarrassedly, she swiped at her wet cheeks.
“Hannah, are you alright?”I opened the stall door to join her.“Did something happen at the summer camp?”
She shook her head, then nodded.“Well, we had to leave early because all the kids came down with a stomach flu, but I wasn’t upset about that.All the puking was really disgusting.”
I made a face that showed I was totally onboard with that assessment.“So, you did like working at the summer camp?”
She shrugged.“It was okay.The cabins were old and kind of creepy, and there were tons of mosquitoes, and the food was pretty bad.I’m glad to be back in my own bed, and Mom’s ordering pizza for dinner, so that’s all good.”
I studied her.“That all does sound pretty good.So, if you’re glad to be home, why are you crying?”
She dropped her head against Jack’s side again, scratching his favorite spot on his neck.
“As soon as I got home today, I went to see some of my friends.A couple of them told me about the festival at the inn, and they said Jack killed Santa Claus.”
I sighed.“Let me guess—Space Buns and Mom Jeans?”
She lifted her head from Jack, looking at me, puzzled.“Who?”
“No one.I’m just being a smart aleck,” I said, waving the comment away.I didn’t want to say anything negative about girls who were probably her friends, although I could argue they were not great friends since she was here crying.
“There was an accident,” I explained to her, “but Jack wasn’t involved.Are you sure that’s all that’s bothering you?”
Her reaction seemed very extreme for what the girls had told her.She was too old to believe in Santa, although anyone dying was certainly traumatic.And while she adored Jack—clearly—crying over what they were saying didn’t seem like Hannah.
She shrugged, then turned to scratch Jack’s snout.After a moment, she said without looking at me, “I didn’t hate everything about camp.”
“Really?What did you like?”
She risked a glance at me, and I raised a curious eyebrow.
“I mean, there was this one boy there, and he was pretty fun.”
