She turned around in the middle of the living room. “I’m going to get my supplies out of the bunkhouse, take a shower, and then paint until the light fades so much I can’t see. And FYI, cowboy, I do not like people to talk to me while I’m painting.”
“In cold water?”
Was he stupid or what? An idiot knew you didn’t paint in water.
He grinned. “Are you going to take a shower in cold water?”
Dammit! Why couldn’t he have one of those big toothy grins that turned a woman off? Oh, no! Grand had to leave her with a cowboy who had a smile so sexy that it lit up the whole universe.
“The hot water tank runs on propane. Grand thinks a total electric house is a joke. The trick to having a hot shower is to keep the generator that runs the well pump filled with gas. That means twice a day, and I like hot water enough to do it myself if you don’t want to.”
If anyone had told her two days ago that she’d be explaining the workings of her home to a complete stranger, she would have thought they were crazy. Never in her wildest dreams did she think Grand would ever go this far in selling the ranch. But it happened and it hurt to admit it, but his green eyes were mesmerizing, his pancakes were good, he was good to the dog, and when he grinned her heart got a hitch in the beating process. She’d bet dollars to cow patties that if there were kids around they’d flock to him like flies on the kitchen table in the summertime. That must have been what Grand saw in him when he appeared on the porch.
Grand might have enough clout with God to get Him to send the storm to the canyon so Sage would have no choice but to spend days and days with the cowboy, but Ada Presley had met her match. Sage had three whole weeks to fire up her temper and work on her arguments.
“What are you going to do with yourself all day long?” she asked.
“Read until chore time and then afterwards read until bedtime.”
“What are you reading?”
“I got a whole pile of books in my bedroom.”
That is Grand’s bedroom. Like I said before, don’t get too comfortable, Creed Riley.
He stacked the breakfast dishes on the cabinet. “They’ll wait until after lunch and then we’ll run a sink full to do dishes.”
“We?” she asked.
“I understand you don’t cook. Some women don’t. But darlin’, you can damn sure help with the dishes. If you don’t know how to do that, I will teach you.”
“Don’t you get all high-handed with me, cowboy.”
He held up his palms and took a deep breath.
“Hey, what do you say that we start over? Hello, Sage Presley. I am Creed Riley. Your grandmother, Ada Presley, is selling me this house. She told me you’d pitch a fit and I realize it’s a shock to you, but I will buy it. I can cook. I can take care of a ranch. Looks like we are stuck together in this house for a few days. What do you say we make the best of it?”
“Don’t look like we have much choice. I will try to be civil.”
A mistletoe cowboy and a dog so ugly that its face would stop an eight-day clock—her world had turned totally upside down.
Where in the hell had those words come from about her trying to be civil anyway? She didn’t want to play nice; she wanted to kill something.
The dog crossed the living room and sat down at her feet. “Grand’s wanted me to have a pet for years and I don’t want one. He’ll have to go to the dog pound in Claude soon as this storm lets us out of the canyon.”
The dog whimpered in disagreement and rolled over on his back.
“Do you know what’ll happen to him at the pound? No one will adopt something that looks like that. Can you imagine a little kid coming in and looking at that in the cage? Kid would cry and run the other way. He’d tell his momma that he’d do without a dog before he took that critter home. They won’t even wait the two weeks or however long it is before they put him down. First little kid he scares they’ll shoot him right between the eyes. You want that on your conscience, Sage? And just for the record, it’s not a boy dog. I just didn’t think anything that ugly could be a girl, and there’s more.”
“What?” Sage asked.
“If that dog ain’t pregnant then I’ll eat my socks.”
“Shit!” Sage mumbled. “I couldn’t let them kill a momma dog about to have puppies.”
“All that wiry hair and snow on her made her look like a fat old boy. But it’s a girl and she’s arrived with baggage. Hey, my coveralls are already wet with snow. Ain’t no use in you gettin’ layered up to go back out in the weather. Tell me what you want from the bunkhouse and I’ll bring it in while you shower. Then you can paint the rest of the day.”
“You’d do that?” she asked.
“We started all over. I wouldn’t have a little while ago when I was still mad because you were mean and before we found out we’re going to be grandparents.” He grinned.
“I was not mean! And that dog isn’t…” She stopped abruptly. “Thank you. My easel is in the corner. It folds up. Please bring the big black box beside it and as many stretched canvases as you can carry. It might take two trips.”
“You were mean. The dog is, and you are welcome. I’ll rap on the bathroom door between the trips in case you think of something else.”
* * *
The house was so small a cowboy couldn’t cuss the pregnant dog without getting a hair in his mouth. And Creed didn’t feel like spending his days in so much tension
