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 backside 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.
“Creed is tough as nails to work outside in this kind of weather,” she said aloud.
She carried the laundry basket to the table and folded the two ratty blankets. Grand saved everything until she’d gotten the last drop of good out of it. Sage would have tossed those two blankets years ago, but not Grand. And now they’d come in almighty handy.
She put them back in the linen closet and worked on her painting again. In the thirty minutes before it was time to switch clothing to the dryer, she could get part of the mistletoe painted.
When she painted, the world disappeared. But that morning was different. She painted the waxy green leaves and white berries, but Creed would not leave her mind.
Grand had been right about him. He was the perfect cowboy to take over the ranch and Sage was coming to grips with the idea. Still, she felt guilty. She should be fighting harder to get her grandmother to stay and not leave for that godforsaken place in the mountains of Pennsylvania.
* * *
Creed measured the boards for the floor of the doghouse and added four inches all the way around. When they went into town he’d buy a roll of insulation. That would keep the cold from sneaking in between the boards.
“I could just buy a couple of decent doghouses, but what’s the fun in that?”
Besides, you had to get out of the house. One more lonesome tear from Sage’s eye and you’d be calling Ada Presley and telling her to come home on the next flight. You’d declare that you couldn’t live in this desolate hole in the ground, but it wouldn’t be that at all, would it?
“Shut up,” he demanded out loud.
He finished nailing the floorboards to the base and fixed the studs to the sides. Noel meandered in, her ears drawn back against the cold wind. She curled up in a pile of loose hay with her head on her paws and watched him.
“It’s for you and the puppies. I’ll build one for Angel too, so get that sad look off your face. She won’t be taking up permanent abode in the house either.”
Noel’s tail wagged, scattering loose hay all around her.
“How’d you talk Sage into letting you out?”
Noel raised her head and barked her answer.
“Lied about having to go, did you?”
He discussed everything with Noel as he worked. He told her how big her house was, how much insulation he planned to put inside, how he’d put the bulb in the attic with a piece of glass between it and the ceiling so the puppies wouldn’t slap at it and get their paws burned. He told her about his new feelings for Sage and how he couldn’t stand to see her cry or know that he was the cause of her unhappiness.
“I’d planned on fighting with her to the bitter end, but I’m a sucker for tears.” He sighed.
Noel growled.
“You don’t think so? Well, that’s comforting that you don’t think I’m a sucker. So what do you think, girl? Will you like your new log cabin or did you want it to look like a white mansion?”
Noel shut her eyes and went to sleep.
“Log cabin it is. I’m glad we agree. I’ll get the outside covered and then put the insulation in the walls and cover the inside with quarter-inch plywood. It’ll be a nice home for you and your bluetick hounds.”
Noel got up and meandered out of the barn as slowly as she’d come in. She looked over her shoulder and gave one more bark but didn’t slow down.
When she was gone, Creed realized that he couldn’t feel his nose and his fingers had begun to tingle in the bitter cold. He unplugged the circular saw, put it back in the tack room, and left the beginnings of a doghouse sitting right in the middle of the floor.
* * *
The dryer beeped and Sage laid aside
