Read Online Christmas in Cowboy Country by Janet Dailey - Free Book Online
Authors: Janet Dailey
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taken up the rest of the short afternoon. Annie didnât know much more than when sheâd started, but she was determined to have it out with Marshall Stone. Maybe it was standard procedure and maybe it wasnât, but she didnât like the idea that he had researched their property without ever telling her. As if her father didnât respect other peopleâs boundaries. That would be Chuck Pfefferâs game. She felt more than a little ticked off.
She kicked a pebble down the stairs and headed for her red pickup.
What next? If she wanted to talk to him, sheâd have to find him first. That fancy truck of his ought to stand out even more during the dayâalthough sunset wasnât far off. Still, it would take less than half an hour to drive through every street in Velde.
She had several good reasons to stick to conversation this time around. Annie vowed not to let herself get distracted by his long, lean good looks and potent attractiveness.
He might have worked both to his advantage the night of the town meeting, but he hadnât apologized at the supermarket and he wasnât likely to now either.
His conduct raised questions. The way Annie saw it, Marshall Stone owed her some answers.
She got into her truck and drove away.
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About ten miles out on the road into Velde, Marshall Stone was cleaning out the cab of his truck. Strictly speaking, it wasnât his.
Where he was from in Wyoming, no one would ever drive something so showy. On principle, theyâd be likely to bang it up a little, just so the truck knew who was boss.
He had thought when it was assigned to him that the gleaming new vehicle would stand out too much in a town like Velde. Maybe not in Aspen or Vail, but in cowboy country it just looked too damn new. Still, he couldnât complain. There was no way the IT team could retrofit a vintage one with the wireless gear and encrypted satellite connection he needed to stay in touch with his colleagues on the fraud case.
Which was going slower than he liked. If he could wrap up this investigation before Christmas and get out of Velde, that would be fine with him. Hell, if he could wrap it up before Thanksgiving, that would be even better.
He didnât think for one second that a certain beautiful brunette would miss him. Marshall crumpled up a handful of fast-food wrappers and stuffed them into a plastic bag. Heâd had about all he could stand of steamed burgers and stale fries.
However, it seemed best to stay out of restaurants, especially restaurant doorways, for the time being. Then again, lightning wasnât supposed to strike twice. The kiss he had shared with Annie had been the kiss of a lifetime.
Yesterday heâd done himself a favor, and swung off the road when heâd spotted a lunch truck out by the sawmill, figuring that hungry loggers knew how to chow down.
The roast beef sandwich heâd selected had been about as big as his head and truly tasty. But he hadnât been able to eat the whole thing and heâd forgotten about the remains, which he tossed into the plastic bag too.
Holding it closed, he walked toward a Dumpster in the parking lot that several small businesses shared. All of them were closed. About to toss in the bag of trash, he heard an echoing bark. Then the scrabble of claws.
Marshall was just tall enough to peer in over the side. The Dumpster was empty . . . except for a black-and-white dog that was staring up at him, wagging its fluffy tail. Didnât have a collar. Looked dusty, but not too bad otherwise.
âHowâd you get in there?â
It jumped up toward him and fell back again on all fours.
Marshall looked around. There was no one else in the parking lot. It was possible that the dog had jumped in somehow, unless some son-of-a-bitch had put it in there.
He sighed and went to get a heavy-duty plastic crate stashed behind one of the businesses. He fished out what was left of the roast beef
She kicked a pebble down the stairs and headed for her red pickup.
What next? If she wanted to talk to him, sheâd have to find him first. That fancy truck of his ought to stand out even more during the dayâalthough sunset wasnât far off. Still, it would take less than half an hour to drive through every street in Velde.
She had several good reasons to stick to conversation this time around. Annie vowed not to let herself get distracted by his long, lean good looks and potent attractiveness.
He might have worked both to his advantage the night of the town meeting, but he hadnât apologized at the supermarket and he wasnât likely to now either.
His conduct raised questions. The way Annie saw it, Marshall Stone owed her some answers.
She got into her truck and drove away.
Â
Â
About ten miles out on the road into Velde, Marshall Stone was cleaning out the cab of his truck. Strictly speaking, it wasnât his.
Where he was from in Wyoming, no one would ever drive something so showy. On principle, theyâd be likely to bang it up a little, just so the truck knew who was boss.
He had thought when it was assigned to him that the gleaming new vehicle would stand out too much in a town like Velde. Maybe not in Aspen or Vail, but in cowboy country it just looked too damn new. Still, he couldnât complain. There was no way the IT team could retrofit a vintage one with the wireless gear and encrypted satellite connection he needed to stay in touch with his colleagues on the fraud case.
Which was going slower than he liked. If he could wrap up this investigation before Christmas and get out of Velde, that would be fine with him. Hell, if he could wrap it up before Thanksgiving, that would be even better.
He didnât think for one second that a certain beautiful brunette would miss him. Marshall crumpled up a handful of fast-food wrappers and stuffed them into a plastic bag. Heâd had about all he could stand of steamed burgers and stale fries.
However, it seemed best to stay out of restaurants, especially restaurant doorways, for the time being. Then again, lightning wasnât supposed to strike twice. The kiss he had shared with Annie had been the kiss of a lifetime.
Yesterday heâd done himself a favor, and swung off the road when heâd spotted a lunch truck out by the sawmill, figuring that hungry loggers knew how to chow down.
The roast beef sandwich heâd selected had been about as big as his head and truly tasty. But he hadnât been able to eat the whole thing and heâd forgotten about the remains, which he tossed into the plastic bag too.
Holding it closed, he walked toward a Dumpster in the parking lot that several small businesses shared. All of them were closed. About to toss in the bag of trash, he heard an echoing bark. Then the scrabble of claws.
Marshall was just tall enough to peer in over the side. The Dumpster was empty . . . except for a black-and-white dog that was staring up at him, wagging its fluffy tail. Didnât have a collar. Looked dusty, but not too bad otherwise.
âHowâd you get in there?â
It jumped up toward him and fell back again on all fours.
Marshall looked around. There was no one else in the parking lot. It was possible that the dog had jumped in somehow, unless some son-of-a-bitch had put it in there.
He sighed and went to get a heavy-duty plastic crate stashed behind one of the businesses. He fished out what was left of the roast beef
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