The Proposal at Siesta Key Part 30

"I know, child." Gently, she rubbed her thumb over the little line that had formed between her middle child's brows. "You know I would never do anything to hurt Frankie. Go get your sisters, and hurry, please. We're going to have to look for him."

While Mandy ran back inside, Emma put her hands on her hips and looked left and right. Then she did it again, valiantly hoping that Frankie would suddenly appear trotting down the street toward them.

But that was unlikely to happen. If her silly dog had managed to sneak a slice of pizza, he wouldn't still be wandering around. Instead, he would be looking for a shady place to take a nap.

And because he was a very deep sleeper, he would likely not even hear the four of them calling his name.

Behind her, the screen door squeaked open with a sprinkle of giggles. Looking at her three angels, Emma did a quick inspection. All three were dressed for the day. Their three different shades of violet dresses neatly in place, rubber flipflops on clean feet, and white kapps on just so.

They were her heart, for sure and for certain. After Sanford had pa.s.sed away three years ago, Emma had wondered if she'd ever smile again. But then she'd looked into her sweet girls' faces and knew that the Lord was good, indeed. He might have taken Emma's husband away far too early but He'd also given her three wonderful-gut reasons to live.

All she needed was for Frankie to stop escaping and her life would be fine.

"Where do you think Frankie went this time, Mamm?" little Annie asked.

"Wherever he smelled pizza." Feeling vaguely like a bit of a canine herself, she breathed deeply through her nose. "Do you girls happen to smell any?"

"We never do," Lena said. As the eldest daughter, all of eight years, she currently had an answer for everything. "But I think we should go to the right today when we start looking."

"How come?" Mandy asked. "The Kaufmanns live to the left and they always are eating pizza."

Lena shrugged. "Frankie went left last time. Plus, it's kind of early for them to be eating pizza. They're usually all at work or school this time of day."

That was as good a reason as any. Holding out her hands for Mandy and Annie, Emma turned left and let Lena lead the way.

"Frankie? Frankie!" Lena called out. "Frankie, you silly beagle. Where are ya?"

"Frankie, come home! You, you hound!" Emma yelled in her best no-nonsense "mom" voice.

"I don't think Frankie likes being called a hound, Mamm," Mandy said.

"Let's just hope he comes when one of us calls."

Taking that as an invitation to bellow, Lena took a deep breath. "Frankie!"

Emma winced. "Lena, not quite so loud."

"But if he's sleeping he won't wake up."

"I know, but-"

"Who's Frankie?" A boy sitting on the front steps of the Orange Blossom Inn said as they approached. He looked to be a year or so older than Lena. He was also dressed in long trousers, a light blue shirt, suspenders, and wore a straw hat. He was surely Amish, but his att.i.tude told Emma all she needed to know . . . he, too, was blessed with the know-it-all syndrome.

Lena marched right up to him. "Frankie is our beagle. Have you seen him?"

"Nope. Why's he called Frankie?"

"'Cause that's his name, that's why."

"Well, I wouldn't come if I was a dog named Frankie. That's a silly name for a dog."

Lena planted her hands on her hips. "Frankie likes his name. A lot."

"Then why doesn't he come when you call?"

"He likes pizza," Annie said as she scampered over to him. "Do you?"

Emma braced herself to step in. Surely he was going to say something snarky, Lena was going to blurt something inappropriate, or Annie was going to start crying.

But instead, the young man stared at little Annie for a moment, stood up, and smiled. "Did you say he likes pizza?"

"Oh, jah. He loves it!"

"My family does, too. And they just happen to be eating it out on the back patio. Come on."

Next thing Emma knew, all three of her girls were following the boy into the inn. Though Emma wasn't afraid for them-she'd known Beverly Overholt, the proprietor for several years now-Emma wasn't especially certain that either the boys' family or Beverly would want three little girls to be traipsing through her inn.

But since they were inside, she followed, looking for Beverly as she stepped into the lovely entryway. When Emma spied Beverly standing by the stairs, her arms folded across her chest and grinning, she grimaced. "Sorry about the interruption. I'm afraid we're searching for Frankie again."

"When I heard you calling for him down the street, I thought that might be the case," she replied. Pointing toward the kitchen, she said, "They went that way."

"Danke." Emma hurried on. There would be plenty of time to apologize better later. For now, she had to keep track of her busy girls before they managed to get into as much trouble as one missing beagle.

The moment she pa.s.sed through the swinging kitchen door, a pretty blond girl about eighteen or nineteen smiled at her. "They just went out the back door," she said, opening the door helpfully.

"Danke."

Then, as she finally stepped out onto the back cement patio, six-no seven-pairs of eyes turned her way. Three were her girls. The other four belonged to three boys and one man. One very handsome, very perplexed-looking man with dark blond hair and very light blue eyes. "Hi," she said weakly.

"Hi," he said right back. "I hear you're looking for Frankie the beagle?"

She nodded. She was embarra.s.sed, but this was no time to wish for better behaved beagles or less trusting little girls. "He wandered off." Feeling more than a little foolish, she asked, "Have you seen him, by any chance? He's tricolored and has white feet and a white-tipped tail."

"Just as if he stepped in paint and got his tail dirty, too!" Mandy supplied. "He really likes pizza."

"I think we just met a dog with that very description," the man murmured.

Almost a little too mildly.

Emma just now noticed that he was staring at his pizza box. Then she noticed that the paper plates next to the box hadn't been pa.s.sed out.

And a slow, sinking feeling settled in.

"Did, um, Frankie find your pizza?"

"He did." When he opened the lid, Emma groaned. At least half the pizza was gone. And the pieces that remained were decorated with paw prints.

Frankie had struck again.

"I'm so sorry. I'll go buy you a fresh pizza."

His lips twitched. "I'd take you up on it if I didn't feel so sorry for you."

"Why?"

That's when the boy they'd been talking to silently pointed one finger down below him.

Both Emma and her girls leaned down to see what he pointed to. There was Frankie. Lying on his side, stomach distended, eyes closed.

He was breathing deeply and kind of snoring, too. Orange pizza sauce dotted the white patch of fur on his chest. It was obvious that Frankie was going to have a pizza hangover for most of the day.

While the girls groaned, Emma fought against taking a seat at the table and silently hoping for some stranger to come along and take over her life for the next four hours. If they attempted to move him, he was liable to throw up. Unfortunately, she knew this from experience.

The man looked like he was trying hard not to laugh. "I'm starting to get the sense that he's done this before."

"All the time," Lena whispered. "He can't help himself, though. It's his weakness."

"I really am sorry," Emma said, looking at all of the boys and the man. "I don't know what to say."

"Why don't you tell me your name instead?" he murmured.

Suddenly, a whole other feeling came over her, and this one had much more to do with noticing that he was handsome.

"My name is Emma. Emma Keim. And these are my daughters, Lena, Mandy, and Annie."

"Where do you live?" the oldest boy asked, who she now realized wasn't actually a boy. No, he was more a young adult.

"Just down the way," she said evasively.

"We have a white house and lots and lots of orange and cherry trees," Mandy said.

"We're living here at the inn while my daed gets our new haus fixed up," the middle boy said.

"Oh?"

"I'm Jay. And these are my sons Ben, Mark, and William."

She smiled at them all. "Pleased to meet you. I am sorry about the pizza. If you could wait a minute, I'll run home and get my purse and give you some money to pay for a new one."

"That's not necessary."

"But I'm sure your wife won't like your boys missing a meal." The moment she said that, Emma wished she could have taken back every single word. Now she not only sounded rude but more than a little intrusive.

All four men looked mighty uncomfortable.

"We don't got a mamm," William said quietly. "She's up in heaven."

"I am mighty sorry to hear that," Emma said. "It's hard to lose a parent."

William looked at her curiously. "How do you know? Is your mamm up in heaven, too?"

"No, but, um, my husband is."

A new awareness crackled in the air. The man-Jay-lost his smile but he seemed to be examining her more closely. "I'm sorry for your loss, too."

"Daed, how about me and Tricia take William and Mark to Village Pizza?" the oldest boy asked.

"Tricia?"

"She's the girl who works here, remember? You met her yesterday."

"Oh. Well . . ."

"They need to eat, Daed."

After giving him a long look, he nodded. "Jah, sure. Go ahead."

"Can the girls come, too?"

"Nee. We don't really know them," Jay said before Emma could say the same thing.

Ben looked tempted to argue, then shrugged. "Let's go," he said to his brothers.

"Ben. Manners."

"What? Oh, sorry. Nice to meet you," he murmured before shuttling his brothers back inside.

Emma noticed all three of her girls staring in the boys' wake. She wondered if it was because they were new or because they were boys.

She stood up. "Well, um, I think it's time to grab my beagle and be on our way."

"How will you get him home?"

"I'll carry him."

He looked extremely doubtful. "Is it far?"

"Nee, just a couple of houses down."

Lena lifted two hands and showed off eight fingers. "Eight of 'em."

"That's too far for you to carry a heavy dog. I'll carry Frankie."

"I couldn't let you do that."

Before she could protest any more, he bent down, contorted himself to slide two arms around a snoring beagle, and with a grunt lifted him in his arms. "He's pretty hefty. Ain't so?"

"He's chubby. Sometimes I think he needs to go on these pizza journeys," she said as she led him through a back gate and up the side yard to the street. "They're the only exercise he likes."