Read Online 1420135090 (R) by Janet Dailey - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Janet Dailey
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fire and lit it with a match. The old man really did take good care of Muriel and her property.
With the fire going, Shane wandered into the kitchen to find his coat and boots. The well-worn cowboy boots, which weren’t made for snow, were still damp, but they’d have to do. At least the socks on his feet were dry, and the sheepskin coat would be warm.
Slipping his boots and coat on, he glanced around the kitchen. No power would mean no hot water for coffee. Too bad. But never mind, he wanted to be gone from the house when Kylie came downstairs. After last night, facing her would be awkward.
He couldn’t say he regretted kissing her—she’d clearly needed kissing, and her lips had been as delicious as ripe strawberries. But he had a rule against kissing any woman who wore a wedding ring—even a widow. And last night he’d broken it. Kylie might be legally free. But that band of gold around her finger was a clear signal that her heart belonged to another man.
Pulling his leather work gloves out of his coat pockets, he opened the back door and stepped out onto the porch. The sky was clearing, but the cold was bitter enough to sting his skin, and the snow was more than two feet deep. He couldn’t remember a time when this part of Texas had seen so much. Around his truck, which he’d abandoned in the middle of the yard, it was over the hubcaps, with more snow piled high on the hood, the cab, and the bed. Time to find a shovel and start digging.
Slogging through knee-deep snow, he made it to the machine shed, where he found Henry tinkering with the gasoline-powered generator. The old man glanced back at him with a grin. “Almost got it,” he said. “I’m hoping an oil change and a fresh starter battery will do the trick.”
“Holler if you need any help,” Shane said. “I’ll be busy shoveling.”
“Knock yourself out. Shovel’s hanging on that far wall.”
Shane started with a path from the shed to Henry’s trailer, and from there back to the house. He was almost to the back porch when he saw the back porch light flicker on. The generator was working. It wouldn’t be like having full power. They could only use electricity for essentials, but it was better than nothing. Maybe by nightfall, the power company would make it out here to fix the problem—if they could get through the drifting snow.
After he’d shoveled a path around the house and down the front walk to the mailbox, he started clearing the snow off his pickup. The storm had been a wet one—good for the land, but heavy to shovel. Shane was used to hard work, but he could tell he’d be hurting later on. Taking a breather, he paused to survey the snow-buried road out front. Even if he could shovel a path out of the yard, he’d be lucky to make it a hundred yards without getting stuck. Muriel hadn’t owned a horse in years, and Shane doubted he could survive the five-mile distance to his ranch slogging through deep snow in wet cowboy boots. Since the town of Branding Iron had no snowplow, it was anybody’s guess when the road would be cleared.
He’d left extra food and water for his animals, but he hadn’t planned on being gone longer than overnight. He needed some way to get back and take care of them.
“How about some hot breakfast?” Kylie had come out onto the porch. Wrapped in a blue fleece jacket, with tousled hair and no makeup, she looked fresh and pretty. The memory of last night slammed Shane like a gut punch. Forget it, he told himself. Like the lady said, it never happened.
“Breakfast? That sounds just dandy!” Henry had come out of the shed. Trudging along the path Shane had shoveled, he reached the porch, where the two men stomped the snow off their boots.
Shane followed Kylie into the warm kitchen, inhaling the aromas of bacon and fresh coffee. Kylie turned away from him, avoiding eye contact while she tended the bacon and scrambled the eggs. Muriel was buttering toast at the counter. Amy and Hunter sat at the
With the fire going, Shane wandered into the kitchen to find his coat and boots. The well-worn cowboy boots, which weren’t made for snow, were still damp, but they’d have to do. At least the socks on his feet were dry, and the sheepskin coat would be warm.
Slipping his boots and coat on, he glanced around the kitchen. No power would mean no hot water for coffee. Too bad. But never mind, he wanted to be gone from the house when Kylie came downstairs. After last night, facing her would be awkward.
He couldn’t say he regretted kissing her—she’d clearly needed kissing, and her lips had been as delicious as ripe strawberries. But he had a rule against kissing any woman who wore a wedding ring—even a widow. And last night he’d broken it. Kylie might be legally free. But that band of gold around her finger was a clear signal that her heart belonged to another man.
Pulling his leather work gloves out of his coat pockets, he opened the back door and stepped out onto the porch. The sky was clearing, but the cold was bitter enough to sting his skin, and the snow was more than two feet deep. He couldn’t remember a time when this part of Texas had seen so much. Around his truck, which he’d abandoned in the middle of the yard, it was over the hubcaps, with more snow piled high on the hood, the cab, and the bed. Time to find a shovel and start digging.
Slogging through knee-deep snow, he made it to the machine shed, where he found Henry tinkering with the gasoline-powered generator. The old man glanced back at him with a grin. “Almost got it,” he said. “I’m hoping an oil change and a fresh starter battery will do the trick.”
“Holler if you need any help,” Shane said. “I’ll be busy shoveling.”
“Knock yourself out. Shovel’s hanging on that far wall.”
Shane started with a path from the shed to Henry’s trailer, and from there back to the house. He was almost to the back porch when he saw the back porch light flicker on. The generator was working. It wouldn’t be like having full power. They could only use electricity for essentials, but it was better than nothing. Maybe by nightfall, the power company would make it out here to fix the problem—if they could get through the drifting snow.
After he’d shoveled a path around the house and down the front walk to the mailbox, he started clearing the snow off his pickup. The storm had been a wet one—good for the land, but heavy to shovel. Shane was used to hard work, but he could tell he’d be hurting later on. Taking a breather, he paused to survey the snow-buried road out front. Even if he could shovel a path out of the yard, he’d be lucky to make it a hundred yards without getting stuck. Muriel hadn’t owned a horse in years, and Shane doubted he could survive the five-mile distance to his ranch slogging through deep snow in wet cowboy boots. Since the town of Branding Iron had no snowplow, it was anybody’s guess when the road would be cleared.
He’d left extra food and water for his animals, but he hadn’t planned on being gone longer than overnight. He needed some way to get back and take care of them.
“How about some hot breakfast?” Kylie had come out onto the porch. Wrapped in a blue fleece jacket, with tousled hair and no makeup, she looked fresh and pretty. The memory of last night slammed Shane like a gut punch. Forget it, he told himself. Like the lady said, it never happened.
“Breakfast? That sounds just dandy!” Henry had come out of the shed. Trudging along the path Shane had shoveled, he reached the porch, where the two men stomped the snow off their boots.
Shane followed Kylie into the warm kitchen, inhaling the aromas of bacon and fresh coffee. Kylie turned away from him, avoiding eye contact while she tended the bacon and scrambled the eggs. Muriel was buttering toast at the counter. Amy and Hunter sat at the
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