Holidays on the Ranch (Burnt Boot, Texas #1)(52)

“Heard you had a little dustup with Betsy down at the store.” Verdie pulled out a chair and sat down at the end of the table. “Looks like they may make it a three-way feud.”

Callie hung her coat over the back of a chair, picked up a doughnut, and bit into it. “Holy smoke, Verdie. These are to die for. Has Orville ever had one?”

“Hell, no! I didn’t want him hangin’ around my back door whinin’ like a half-starved hound dog,” Verdie answered.

“You hear that Ilene Gallagher is out after Orville?”

“Of course. There ain’t much goes on in Burnt Boot that I don’t know. Crazy thing is that she really likes him, but he’s afraid to get tangled up in the feud. Did Gladys exaggerate, or did you really bite Betsy?”

“She did not exaggerate.” Callie pulled out a chair and sat down.

“Why didn’t you just knock the shit out of her?”

“Gladys wouldn’t like us fightin’ in her store.”

“And this makes Betsy look like a fool, right?”

Callie reached for another doughnut. “Yes, ma’am.”

***

Verdie had just finished reading a chapter to Martin that evening when Callie peeked into the room.

“Come right in and join us. Martin is a good kid. He lets me read to him when he’s plenty old enough to read it for himself, but he knows it brings me pleasure.” Verdie smiled.

Martin had been antsy all afternoon and evening, as if waiting for something. Callie couldn’t put her finger on it, but something just flat-out wasn’t right. His eyes darted from the window to the bunk beds, back to the window, and then to the closet, as if he was casing his own bedroom to rob it.

“Did I tell you that my feet didn’t get all wet in them boots that Granny Verdie let me borrow? They’re a little big, but, boy, they sure beat wadin’ through snow in my shoes.” Martin changed the subject quickly.

A hard pang of guilt slapped Callie in the ribs as she sat down on the bottom bunk of the extra set of beds. Cowboy boots wouldn’t make him a bad person, and it was downright crazy to let him continue to work without something warm on his feet.

“I been thinkin’ that with my first paycheck I’d buy me some of them rubber boots. Santa Claus knows I want cowboy boots for Christmas, and I won’t have the money to buy them for a long time, but rubber boots don’t cost so much and…” He paused for breath.

“Next time we get into Gainesville, I’ll get you some rubber boots,” Callie promised.

Finn stuck his head inside the door. “You want the plain old black ones or some with pink hearts on them?”

Martin did a fake gag. “Come on, Finn. You know boys don’t wear pink ones with hearts on them. I want some black ones or red ones like firemen wear.”

“So you might be a fireman?” Finn sat down on the bed next to Callie, legs touching from hips to knees, causing her thoughts to drift away from boots of any kind or fashion.

“Maybe a volunteer fireman right here in Burnt Boot, but my real job will be ranchin’,” Martin said. “Finn, did you ever know of coyotes, the ones like are howling out there tonight, to attack people?”

“Never heard of it. Besides, you’re in the house, and coyotes never break through windows to get into a house. They run from people,” Finn said.

“I like it when we’re all together in my room for just a little while,” he said.

“Well, young man, it’s time for us all to get into our own rooms so you can go to sleep. Good night, all y’all,” Verdie said. “It’s so good to be back home.”

She headed off to her room, and Callie started toward the living room with Finn right behind her. She sat down on the end of the sofa and pulled her legs up under her, tucking a fluffy red throw tightly around them.

“He’s up to something,” she said.

“Yep.” Finn sat down beside her and shifted her feet into his lap. Starting at her toes, he massaged one at a time. “Don’t know if it’s a ploy for cowboy boots, or if he’s going to sneak out the window and go coyote hunting, but he’s definitely up to something. Did you notice the way his eyes kept going to the window?”

“I did,” she said. But thoughts of her young nephew were fading fast as Finn worked on her feet. “You could go into business. We could make more on foot massages than we can raisin’ cattle. Big old steamin’-hot cowboy like you with those hands, wow, just wow.”

One dark eyebrow jacked up toward the ceiling.

“Stop it. I wouldn’t really want you to be touching another woman,” she said.

“Jealous?”

“No, just protecting my interests. There’s a major difference between jealousy and protecting one’s property.” She smiled.

The eyebrow went up another notch. “And I’m your property?”

“Shhh! Did you hear that?” Callie whispered.

Shotgun raised his head and growled.

Pistol cocked his ear to one side and waited.

Angel didn’t even open her eyes.

Finn shook his head. “Old houses groan with the cold. The dogs are going back to sleep, and the cat didn’t even wake up. Now where were we?”

She threw a leg over his lap, and his arms went around her as she rested her cheek on his chest. Hard muscles barely muffled the steady beat of his heart. She liked that about Finn O’Donnell. He was steady and true, kind and honest, and he took in strays, which testified to his kindness.