Mistletoe Cowboy (16 page)

“Three of them? And they are beautiful,” she whispered. “Look at the little spotted things, Creed. Not a single one looks like her.”

Creed squatted beside her. “They all look just like bluetick hound dogs.”

He picked up one and handed it to her.

She rubbed its head against her cheek. “I don't know why I fought Grand against a pet.” She held it out from her and studied it: black ears, brown around where its eyes would be when they opened up, a splotchy blaze up across its square black nose. The rest of the white dog was covered with what looked like big blue ticks.

“Hello, Elvis,” she said.

“Elvis?” Creed asked.

“He sang about a blue Christmas. And there ain't no doubt this little bluetick hound dog is Elvis. Besides, Elvis also sang about a hound dog. Put him back and let's look at the next one.”

Creed put a second one in her hands and she kissed it on the nose. “It's a girl and her name is Blue.”

Two big dark spots that looked like black paint had dripped on the pup's back. Her muzzle was white and covered with a black mask around her eyes. If she'd been a boy, Sage would have named her Zorro. She wiggled and whimpered so Sage held her close to her chest. She settled right down when she was next to the flannel shirt and Sage sang a few lines of “Blue Christmas” to her.

“She's sleeping now. Give her back to Noel and let's take a look at the next one,” Sage said.

Creed handed the runt to Sage.

“Oh, look! It's so tiny and has hardly any color at all except for the dark-colored ticks all over her.”

Sage held her out and looked at her carefully. “You are Lady Crosby. I bet you grow up to be a better singer than either Reba or Wynonna.”

“Hey, now!” Creed said.

“She will. She'll make them look like they can't carry a tune.”

“How did you come up with that name?”

“Bing sang ‘White Christmas,' remember?”

“And we do have a white Christmas coming up.” Creed nodded.

“That's right.” Sage laid the puppy close to Noel, who wagged her tail even harder. “That's why you didn't want to go with us, isn't it?”

Then it dawned on Sage.

“You knew, didn't you? That's why you took me out to check on things, right?” she asked Creed.

“I did and you are right. You'd have fretted yourself sick about her if you'd known she was knottin' up with contractions.”

The cowboy just flat-out amazed Sage.

***

The puppies were cute right then. But they'd grow up fast, and pretty soon there would be lots of problems and messes everywhere, so his next job would be building a doghouse. He could set it on the front porch and as soon as the cold snap was over, Noel and the puppies would be nice and warm out there. He chuckled softly at his next thought: a cathouse. There was no way Sage would put Angel and the kittens in the barn, so he'd better start designing a cathouse as well as a doghouse.

He visualized miniature log cabins. He could insulate the inside and cover the walls with plywood, put a flap door on the front, and run wire for a lightbulb through the window. A nice worn blanket and a forty-watt in the attic of each house would keep the animals cozy on cold nights.

“What are you thinking about so hard?” Sage asked.

“Construction work. Let's eat and then you can paint while I design.”

“What kind of construction work?”

“A surprise,” he said. “Listen. A norther just hit. We barely got back to the house in time, Sage. That wind sounds pretty ferocious out there.”

She shivered. “We probably won't get electricity today.”

“Maybe not.”

An hour later she was painting and he had a notebook and several sharpened pencils in front of him on the kitchen table. Four of Sage's pictures were drying in the pantry and she worked on the one with the mistletoe and icicles in the top of the snow-dusted scrub oak tree. He picked up a pencil and figured out a comfortable size for the dog and then for the cat and calculated the pitch of the roof. The lightbulb should be close to the babies, but not so close that they could touch it.

Or it could be behind a piece of glass at the back of the house instead of inside the attic. That would work like the lights inside the chicken house where Creed's mother hatched out peeps in the spring time. There were basic woodworking tools in the tack room in the barn and some spare lumber pieces stacked in the corner. Some split fire logs would make a real log cabin exterior and look pretty fancy sitting on the front porch.

Sage laid her brushes down and sat down across from him. “What are you working on, Creed?”

“Building a couple of houses.”

“Why? There is this house and then the bunkhouse. Why would you want to build two more?”

“For Noel and Angel. We're getting a little crowded in here, Sage.”

“It's too cold to put them outside.”

“Come look at this,” he said.

She leaned forward and he told her his idea of putting the cathouse and the doghouse on the porch and how they'd heat the houses with lightbulbs. He drew a crude picture of what the houses would look like and then waited. She didn't say a word for a long time.

“It would keep the smell down in here, wouldn't it? We wouldn't have to have a litter pan and they'd just be right there on the porch where I could go out and play with them, right? And they could come inside for a little while each day?”

“Yes, you could, and yes, they could. But rest assured, eventually Angel and the kittens will wind up in the barn because that's where the rats are, and believe me, that's like round steak to them.” He chuckled.

“And my puppies?”

“Will probably claim the porch, bark at any newcomers, and trip you up when you try to bring in groceries,” he told her.

She laughed. “Kiss me, Creed.”

His expression made her laugh harder.

“Wasn't expecting that, were you?” she asked.

He shook his head.

“I can accept all that you just said if you kiss me.”

She walked around the table and sat down in his lap so that she was facing him. She put a hand on each side of his face and leaned in for the kiss. When her mouth touched his, strong arms encircled her body.

When the string of hot, heavy kisses ended, he asked, “What does a kiss have to do with doghouses?”

“Not a damn thing. I heard you. I agree with you. But all I could think about when you were talking is how much I wanted to kiss the lips that were moving.”

“I thought we were slowing this wagon down.”

“We are slowing it down, but we aren't unhitchin' it.”

***

He kissed her again, this time controlling the pressure with his hand on the back of her head and teasing her lips with soft nips and his tongue. So she wasn't ready to unhitch the wagon and put it in the barn forever. Well, neither was he and if kisses were all he could have until after the sale, then he'd enjoy them to the fullest.

“I like the way you feel in my arms,” he said.

“I like the way I feel in your arms too.”

“But…”

“No buts; just kiss me again.”

He held her chin in his hand. “But I can't do this all evening, Sage. Just sitting in the same room with you makes me crazy with want. Kissing you one time jacks up the heat in my body. A dozen times and I'm throbbing.”

She moved back to her original chair. “Do you think Noel was in love with her old bluetick hound boyfriend?”

Creed wasn't sure how to answer that. Were they talking about dogs or dancing around their own relationship?

“I hope so. She's got three babies to raise… oh my God! Sage, I just thought of something. We didn't use a bit of protection yesterday. I didn't even think of that when we…” He let the sentence trail off.

“I'm on the pill. I've always had problems with regularity so I've been on it for years.”

He wiped a hand across his forehead.

“You tellin' me you wouldn't want me to have three little dark-haired cowboys or cowgirls to run around in this canyon?”

“I wouldn't mind that at all, but I'd damn sure like for them to be legitimate. I got a feeling the wrath of your Grand would not be a pretty sight.”

Creed's comment about kids haunted Sage. It hadn't been a drop-down-on-one-knee proposal, but it had rattled her nerves. If she had kids they'd grow up and leave her. She could barely think about putting Noel and Angel and their broods out on the front porch.

A child would be so much harder to lose. Her very own father was proof of that. He'd left the canyon to serve his country. Oh, he'd come home all right. The grave in the cemetery on the other side of the grandfather rock was proof of that. Sage laced her hands behind her head and stared out the window at the stars twinkling in the black sky. Grand was a strong-willed woman to survive losing her only child. And then she took in her daughter-in-law and granddaughter only for the daughter to die two years later. Sage wasn't sure she could live with that much pain.

She closed her eyes and sleep came easily, but the dreams haunted her all night. Dreams of little boys and girls chasing puppies around the yard and of Creed swinging them up into his arms when he came in for dinner. She watched the scenario as if it were a movie and felt the joy of the love surrounding them. When she awoke she wasn't sure if she'd been a character or someone viewing it from a padded seat with a bag of popcorn in her hands.

A pang of pure old jealousy stabbed her in the heart when she thought of some other woman living on her ranch, raising Creed's children, and playing with her puppies and kittens. It was still pitch-black dark outside and the clock on her nightstand said that it was three thirty. She snuggled back into the covers, wished Creed was holding her so she wouldn't feel so alone, and went back to sleep.

The next time she awoke she was floating through the air. Afraid that she'd gotten too close to the bed and was falling off, she jumped and grabbed at the air. Only it wasn't air that she latched onto. It was Creed's big strong biceps.

“I've got you, darlin',” he whispered.

His heartbeat against her cheek convinced her that it wasn't another dream. He really had picked her up out of her bed and was carrying her off somewhere. Had she moaned in her sleep? Was he carrying her to a rocking chair to soothe her?

“Don't open your eyes until I tell you,” he said.

She clamped her eyes so tight that her face hurt. He took a few more steps and sat down in a rocking chair but was careful not to set it in motion. Something sounded strange in the background. The smell of coffee filled the room but the percolator didn't sound right. He brushed a kiss across her lips and then planted one on the end of her nose and she forgot all about coffeepots.

“Merry Christmas, Sage,” he said.

Her eyes flew open and there it was, not three feet from her, in all its glory. The Christmas tree was lit up with multicolored lights. The electricity was back on!

She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him hard and passionately.

“Hey, I didn't do it but I like getting the rewards. When I came out of the barn the lights around it were all lit and when I got to the house, this is what I found.”

“It's a Christmas miracle,” she said.

“I'd say more like overtime for a lot of hard workers to buy Christmas miracles for their kids,” he chuckled.

“Washing! We can do laundry!”

“Magic has gone. Mundane landed safely,” he said in a monotone.

She gave him a big hug. “Mundane is magic today.”

“Oh, and the news on the tractor radio says that the roads are being cleared but they're still icy so to use caution.”

“Only thing we need from town is dog and cat food and they're not complainin'.”

She hopped up off his lap and turned on the living room light, both lamps at the ends of the sofa and a floor light that usually sat between the rockers but had been relegated to a corner when her easel came into the house.

“Isn't it beautiful? That means television and I can paint until midnight if I want to.”

He smiled at her and headed toward the kitchen to start making breakfast. Then he leaned over the counter and asked, “Television?”

She slung open two doors of a cabinet on the opposite side of the fireplace and there was a small television. “Works beautifully and we've even got cable. Grand loves her old Western movies.”

“So do I,” Creed said. “Since we have electricity, do you want toast with your ham and eggs?”

“I'm partial to skillet toast like you made when you brought me breakfast in bed. I usually use that toaster for Pop Tarts.”

“Then fried toast it is. It's my favorite too. Grandpa hated the toaster and tossed it into the trash when Granny died. He said the thing only dried out the bread and it crumbled when you tried to put butter on it. When you took the toast out of a skillet, it was buttered, browned on the outside, and still soft on the inside.”

“Smart man!”

Even the floor felt warmer with the lights all on as she padded across the room to pet her animals. Noel was curled around her puppies that were slurping noisily and kneading her stomach as they ate.

“She went out with me this morning. I flipped her blanket over to the clean side but it needs to be washed. You got another one somewhere that she could have while that one is getting cleaned up?”

“Sure, and I'll put a fresh one in Angel's basket too. We should do that first. They'll be done by the time we get our beds stripped down and our stuff all sorted out.”

***

Creed would have never believed that talking about laundry and dog beds could be sexy, but it was. Listening to her talk about stripping down the beds sent his thoughts back to what had gone on in her bed and a stirring started in his jeans.

The phone put an abrupt halt to his visions and he picked it up on the second ring.

“You still frozen in?” his brother, Ace, asked.

“We got electricity just this morning and the snowplows are still working on clearing the roads. Sage tells me that we are always the last to get dug out because our roads are the least traveled, especially this time of the year. We still haven't even plugged in our phones and computers to recharge them.”

“Then you're on your way back to civilization. It hit us last night but we only got the tail end of it. A couple of inches on the ground and the sun is out so it'll melt soon. Jasmine and Lucy are outside building a snowman about waist high. They plan to take pictures of it with Jazzy. She says this is the baby's first snowman even if she can't see it. I told her to pull up her shirt. Maybe the baby can see it through her belly button, kind of like a camera lens.”

Creed laughed. “I bet that got you a slap on the arm. How is Jasmine? Things going all right?”

“Oh, yeah. We can't wait until spring for her to be born. I swear, Creed, there is nothing like the feeling or the fear of being a father. I don't know how Dad did it seven times. I hear you got holed up with the granddaughter of the ranch owner. How'd that work?”

“Not so bad. Could have been worse.”

“Good-lookin'?” Ace asked.

“Oh, yeah!”

“Do I hear something in your voice?”

“I couldn't answer that, brother.”

Creed heard a commotion in the background.

“I miss Lucy's giggles. Tell Jasmine I'll send her a picture of a whole snow family as soon as I get my phone and laptop charged.”

He put the receiver back into the base and it rang again before he could turn around.

Sage reached over his shoulder and grabbed it.

“Hello.”

No more than two seconds clicked off the clock.

“Oh, Grand, I'm so glad you called. The electricity is back on. We have puppies and I named the girls Blue and Crosby and the boy Elvis, and Creed says their poppa is a bluetick hound. And the kittens are named after Santa's reindeer. I can't wait for you to see them. Creed says they'll all have their eyes open by Christmas and he's going to build a doghouse and a cathouse…”

A short pause and some laughter. “I know it's funny, but what else would you call it? Bet you never thought you'd have a cathouse on the Rockin' C, did you? Anyway, he's going to run an electric cord out into their little houses on the front porch and we'll keep them warm with a lightbulb. Kind of like you do in the spring to hatch out the chickens.”

There was silence for a while and Sage wiped a tear from her eye. “I miss you. My cell phone will be charged up by noon and I'll have it with me all the time.”

Creed's heart went out to her. Should he back out of the sale? She'd never be happy without her Grand close by, and her happiness was more important than anything.

***

“You miss her bad, don't you?” Essie asked.

Ada nodded. “But she needs to cut the apron strings and realize that just because someone leaves her doesn't mean they are gone forever. I'll go back and visit the ranch often and you're going with me.”

“Not in the summer. I'd die in that godforsaken place in the summer. My poor little fat cells would all melt and there'd be nothing left of me but wrinkled skin and brittle bones.”

“We've got an air conditioner. You can take your knitting and sit in the living room all day, but we're going back every three months. After the first year, you can play with the great-grandbabies. Until then you'll have to make do with puppies and kittens.”

Essie shook her head. “Don't like cats and barely tolerate dogs. When the boys were grown, I said no more pets in this place.”

Ada slapped the kitchen table. “Looks like you'd best learn to tolerate them because the choice you got is a week out of every three months in Texas with me or a nursing home with a whole new set of friends.”

“You are a hard woman, Ada Presley,” Essie pouted.

“I learned it from you.”

Essie stuck out a hand. “Deal.”

Two hardworking, veined hands clasped together in an unwritten agreement that was as binding as ink on paper.

When the hand shaking was over, Essie laughed. “I would have gone for two weeks four times a year.”

Ada smiled. “I would have settled for three times a year.”

“You know she's enough like you that you can't force her into doing what you want, right?” Essie said.

Ada threw an arm around her sister. “She gets that from you.”

***

Noel and Angel both had clean beds and two sets of sheets were in the washing machine. Sage and Creed carried their overflowing laundry baskets to the kitchen and set them on the floor.

She dumped hers. “Might as well combine the loads. It'll take less time.”

He dumped his on top of hers. “I agree.”

Putting her underwear in with his was the hardest thing she'd ever done in her life. It seemed so personal, so symbolic. Not even a long morning of sex had made her blush scarlet. But she did as she sorted clothing and visualized their personal things tangled up in the washing machine together.

When the kitchen floor looked like an explosion in a Goodwill Store, she poured a cup of coffee and carried it to her easel. The canvas looked different with overhead lights, and lamps added to the sunshine pouring in from the window.

“That sun promises warmth, but if you poke your head out the door that cold wind will freeze your nose off,” Creed said.

“It's better than snow falling so hard that you can't see your hand in front of your face. Aha! I can turn on the radio. Six days and I'd already forgotten what all electricity does bring in the house.”

She picked up the remote, hit a button, and music instantly filled the room.

Creed exhaled loudly.

“What?” she asked as she poked a button on the stereo unit inside the cabinet with the television.

“I liked the feeling of no technology. It's crazy, but I did. It's the same feeling I got when I first came out here.”

“Want me to turn it off?”

“No, I'd like to hear the news before I go out in the barn and start building the dog and cathouses,” he answered.

Toby Keith sang his newest song and then there was five minutes of news, most of it still covering the snow and all the damage it had caused. When that was done, Creed pulled on his coveralls, gloves, and boots and settled his hat just right on his head.

“See you at dinnertime,” he said.

“I'm making tortilla soup.”

He made his way around the piles of clothing and kissed her on the cheek. “That sounds great.”

The house felt empty with him gone. Even the DJ and the constant noise of Christmas songs from country artists didn't fill the void. The dryer buzzed telling her that the dog and cat bedding was ready to fold. She laid her brushes to the side and went to the back side of the huge walk-in pantry.

It
needs
to
be
as
big
as
the
kitchen. It has to house the freezer, the washer and dryer, and enough food to last a month, my child. It's our grocery store and our laundry all rolled into one.
Grand's answer to her question when she was a little girl flitted through her memories.

Would she ever tell her daughter the same thing when she asked why the pantry was the biggest room in the house?

She pulled the old blankets from the dryer, cleaned enough lint from the filter to make a bonfire, and switched the sheets over from the washing machine. Then she gathered up a load of towels, put them in the washer, and added detergent.

Noel cold-nosed her hand when she started back out and Sage yelped.

“You scared me, girl.”

The dog went to the door and put a paw on the doorknob.

“It's cold out there,” Sage said.

The dog barked and she opened the door. Noel meandered out and headed straight for the barn. Other than her floppy ears blown back against her head, she didn't act like she even felt the cold. But Sage shivered when the icy wind shot up under her shirt. She quickly shut the door.