Read Online Christmas in Cowboy Country by Janet Dailey - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Janet Dailey
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fluttering in a few places along the fence lines where heâd set a marker in the ground below. Her sharp-eyed dad had spotted them, pitched a minor fit, and vowed to remove them all.
Her phone chimed. Nellâs answer came surprisingly quickly. I sure do. Marshall Stone is renting the cabin on that land I own outside town. Nice to have such a responsible tenant. And so easy on the eyes. You should stop by and say hi, Annie.
Did that qualify as a hint? It was more like a blunt instrument. Nell obviously thought Annie should be actively looking for l-o-v-e, not that it was any of her business.
So he was at the cabin that Nell had recently restored with an eye to renting it during ski season. Annie hadnât been out that way, hadnât even thought of it because she hadnât imagined Marshall Stone was in town for very long.
Annie guessed there hadnât been enough snow for Nell to find other takers. But she knew Nell wouldnât have rented it without doing some kind of background check.
Asking Nell about that wasnât likely to get her much information. The saloon owner kept up with all the town doings and occasionally indulged in gossip like everyone else, but that didnât mean she would reveal private information about a paying customer. Safe to assume that Stone had passed inspection with Nell, which was a good sign.
For now, Annie just wanted to talk to him. That was all.
She didnât have his phone number or his e-mail. Nell hadnât offered either. Another hint. All right. Annie would play friendly and stop by the cabin.
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Marshall opened the door about a minute after she knocked. Right away she saw why it took him so long. He had a black-and-white dog by the collar, some kind of herding breed by the looks of it and the level of energy. It seemed awfully interested in getting outside.
âYou have a dog?â she asked, surprised. âDown, boy.â She reached out a hand to pat the wriggling animal, who licked it eagerly.
âStop that, Rowdy. I found him in a Dumpster, got him out and got him shots and a checkup straightaway. Healthy and full of beans. The vet said he wasnât microchipped. So the answer is yes, I now have a dog.â
Heâd rescued a stray. Uh-oh. Annie could feel the beginnings of a dangerous thaw in her mixed feelings about Marshall Stone. But until she knew more about who he was and what he was doing in Velde, it might be wiser to keep this supposedly social call on the short side.
She stayed where she was until Marshall motioned her inside, still hanging on to the dogâs collar. âCome on in. Heâs not completely nuts. But Iâm getting there.â
âHeâs cute. Rowdy is a good name for him.â
âHe lives up to it, believe me.â
Annie looked around the snug cabin, which was one big room, the old log walls sanded and varnished to a honey color and the restored chinking between them thick as sugar icing. The floor was made of split hackberry logs, worn smooth long ago and recently refinished. A crackling fire was visible through the isinglass panes of an antique woodstove in the corner. Super cozy.
She checked out the rest of the décor, never having been inside, although sheâd seen pictures. There were knickknacks on a whatnot shelf dripping with doilies and vintage books for après-ski entertainment. No television. Annie wondered if there was Internet access.
Then she saw the router, also on a doily. All the modern conveniences with a touch of yesterday.
Obviously Nell had intended the cabin to be a romantic retreat for vacationing couples. Unfortunately for Annieâs peace of mind, there was only one piece of furniture big enough for two people to sit on.
A love seat faced the bed, which was a king-size affair of poufy, down-stuffed white supported by four tall posters carved from dark, heavy wood. It was the kind of bed you could run at and fling yourself into and not come
Her phone chimed. Nellâs answer came surprisingly quickly. I sure do. Marshall Stone is renting the cabin on that land I own outside town. Nice to have such a responsible tenant. And so easy on the eyes. You should stop by and say hi, Annie.
Did that qualify as a hint? It was more like a blunt instrument. Nell obviously thought Annie should be actively looking for l-o-v-e, not that it was any of her business.
So he was at the cabin that Nell had recently restored with an eye to renting it during ski season. Annie hadnât been out that way, hadnât even thought of it because she hadnât imagined Marshall Stone was in town for very long.
Annie guessed there hadnât been enough snow for Nell to find other takers. But she knew Nell wouldnât have rented it without doing some kind of background check.
Asking Nell about that wasnât likely to get her much information. The saloon owner kept up with all the town doings and occasionally indulged in gossip like everyone else, but that didnât mean she would reveal private information about a paying customer. Safe to assume that Stone had passed inspection with Nell, which was a good sign.
For now, Annie just wanted to talk to him. That was all.
She didnât have his phone number or his e-mail. Nell hadnât offered either. Another hint. All right. Annie would play friendly and stop by the cabin.
Â
Â
Marshall opened the door about a minute after she knocked. Right away she saw why it took him so long. He had a black-and-white dog by the collar, some kind of herding breed by the looks of it and the level of energy. It seemed awfully interested in getting outside.
âYou have a dog?â she asked, surprised. âDown, boy.â She reached out a hand to pat the wriggling animal, who licked it eagerly.
âStop that, Rowdy. I found him in a Dumpster, got him out and got him shots and a checkup straightaway. Healthy and full of beans. The vet said he wasnât microchipped. So the answer is yes, I now have a dog.â
Heâd rescued a stray. Uh-oh. Annie could feel the beginnings of a dangerous thaw in her mixed feelings about Marshall Stone. But until she knew more about who he was and what he was doing in Velde, it might be wiser to keep this supposedly social call on the short side.
She stayed where she was until Marshall motioned her inside, still hanging on to the dogâs collar. âCome on in. Heâs not completely nuts. But Iâm getting there.â
âHeâs cute. Rowdy is a good name for him.â
âHe lives up to it, believe me.â
Annie looked around the snug cabin, which was one big room, the old log walls sanded and varnished to a honey color and the restored chinking between them thick as sugar icing. The floor was made of split hackberry logs, worn smooth long ago and recently refinished. A crackling fire was visible through the isinglass panes of an antique woodstove in the corner. Super cozy.
She checked out the rest of the décor, never having been inside, although sheâd seen pictures. There were knickknacks on a whatnot shelf dripping with doilies and vintage books for après-ski entertainment. No television. Annie wondered if there was Internet access.
Then she saw the router, also on a doily. All the modern conveniences with a touch of yesterday.
Obviously Nell had intended the cabin to be a romantic retreat for vacationing couples. Unfortunately for Annieâs peace of mind, there was only one piece of furniture big enough for two people to sit on.
A love seat faced the bed, which was a king-size affair of poufy, down-stuffed white supported by four tall posters carved from dark, heavy wood. It was the kind of bed you could run at and fling yourself into and not come
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