Holidays on the Ranch (Burnt Boot, Texas #1)(19)

“Well, shit! Guns. Hit the ground, punk!” Joe hung upside down on the perch and shut his eyes.

Finn wrapped his cold hands around the mug of chocolate and sipped at it. “Tastes wonderful, and the dog does look like a Pistol, so we’ll call him that until we see if someone claims him. Welcome to Salt Draw, Pistol and Joe.”

Angel slithered out from under the kitchen table and walked sideways on her tiptoes toward the dog. It ignored her completely until she was just inches away and then it flopped down on its belly and wagged its tail. Angel sniffed its nose and then licked it up across the face.

“Looks like Shotgun and Angel think he needs a bath,” Finn said.

“They’re just making friends with him. He’s sure enough different than Shotgun,” Callie said, smiling. “I’ve always wanted pets, but an apartment isn’t the place to have them.”

“I don’t reckon he’ll be much good at herding cows, but he might be real good as an alarm system.” Finn would have gathered up every stray in the county just to see her smile like that every day.

“How is a dog an alarm system?” Martin asked.

“Well, if someone comes around, I bet he lets the whole house know it.”

“Sue the bastards.” The bird flew down, lit on Martin’s head, and deposited a dollop of bird crap on his back.

Callie grabbed another paper towel and wiped it away. “We’ve got to get him settled somewhere. I’ve got a necklace that might work for a chain, but we need a perch.”

“I know.” Martin got up slowly and motioned for them to follow him to the utility room. He pointed at a foldout clothes-drying rack made of dowel rods. “If we set that up in front of the window and put a chain on his leg, he could move from one end to the other. It looks like four rods all the same height, so he could even hop from one to the other if the chain wasn’t too short.”

“With newspaper under it to catch all the droppings,” Finn said. “It just might work.”

“Will you take care of keeping the newspaper changed?” Callie asked Martin.

“I sure will.” Martin beamed.

Finn carried the rack to the living room with Martin and Joe right behind him. Callie went off to her bedroom to get the leg-irons.

They managed to get the chain around his leg, but then he figured out what was going on and threw a hissy fit. “Run, dog. Police. They’re killin’ me. Sue the bastards.” Joe hopped from one rung to the other and back again.

“I think Joe has watched too much television.” Finn laughed.

“Where’s the remote? Damn police. Joe wants doughnuts.” He went as far as the chain would let him and pecked at the edge of the curtains.

“One problem solved, now let’s go back to the Christmas tree,” Finn said.

“He’s very vocal. I’ve never seen a bird that could say so many words.” Callie sat down on the floor in front of the fireplace, and the new dog crawled up in her lap.

Finn joined her, thigh against hers, the sizzle there every single time. “I think he’s taken to you.”

She picked up the dog and held him up to her face. He promptly licked her from chin to forehead. “You do look like a Pistol. I like this little guy. The bird belongs to you guys. I don’t even like canaries and parakeets, so I sure don’t want a bird.”

“Hot damn! Joe needs a cracker,” the bird said.

“His name is Joe for sure,” Callie said.

“Well, Mary!”

Callie laughed out loud. “I bet his owner is married to Mary. That should narrow down the list, right?”

Pistol wiggled out of her arms, sniffed the air, and followed his nose to the food bowl in the utility room. Angel romped along behind him, hackles up and meowing like someone had rocked on her tail.

“She wants him to play,” Callie said.

“Either that or she’s warning him not to eat all that food.” Finn stole sideways glances at Callie. She’d aged little in the past two years, but there was a more mature look to her. Maybe instant motherhood did that to a woman. Whatever, it damn sure looked good on her.

Callie dragged one of the boxes over to her side and opened it carefully. “It’s a red metal tree stand and a quilted tree skirt. Wonder why Verdie left these behind?”

Finn stood up and crossed the great room into the kitchen area. He put his empty cup in the dishwasher and settled in on the end of the sofa. “Maybe where she moved to doesn’t have room for a big tree that requires water.”

Callie ripped open the other box and said, “Look. It’s a strand of those big old lights folks used to put on trees. And this used to be strung popcorn, but the string is so old that it’s falling apart. This other thing is cranberries that have turned into raisins.”

Finn patted the sofa beside him. “We could string popcorn and cranberries, but if we want to go to the Christmas tree lighting, we’ll have to put that part of the decorating off until tomorrow evening. It’s your choice.”

“Popcorn. Popcorn. Joe wants popcorn.” Joe made noises like corn popping in the microwave, complete with a ding like a timer going off.

“Please, can we go to town?” Martin begged. “I might meet some kids that like me, and tomorrow won’t be so scary.”

“We can string popcorn and cranberries another day,” Callie said.