Holidays on the Ranch (Burnt Boot, Texas #1)(75)

“You’re the boss,” she smarted off.

“Hey, I was teasing. What’s got a burr under your saddle? I thought the evening went fine, except I didn’t like all those cowboys dancing with you.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, leaned back, and shut her eyes. “Then why didn’t you dance with me more?”

“It’s called being polite. Shit!”

He hit the brakes, and the truck went into a long, greasy sideways slide.

“What?” She grabbed at the dashboard.

“Those fools. Don’t they know that a pup will freeze in this kind of weather?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Someone just tossed a puppy out the door of a car and then drove away. I almost rear-ended their car before I could get stopped on that slick snow and ice,” he said.

For a split second she could see the red taillights disappearing down the road, but then the new falling snow covered them completely.

“How far back?” she asked.

“It’s snowing like hell, and I might have run over the dog before I even saw him.”

“Then I’ll walk back until I find him. I won’t let a little puppy freeze to death,” she said.

“In that getup? You’ll ruin your shoes and your dress and catch pneumonia to boot,” he said.

“We are going back to get that dog,” she said. She’d have nightmares if she left a poor defenseless puppy out there in six inches of snow with the promise of another two inches before morning.

“Bossy after dancing with all those big important ranchers, aren’t you?” He put the truck in reverse and backed up slowly. “If I run over that dog and kill it, I don’t want a single tear or whimper out of you.”

Her forefinger came up in a blur. “You kill that dog, and I’ll sling snot all over this truck and there won’t be a damn thing you can do about it.”

***

If the pup hadn’t had a black spot on its head and if it hadn’t been huddled down close to the side of the road, Finn would have never seen it. He braked, slid a few feet, and opened the door to find not one but two bundles of white fur whimpering in the snow. He reached down without getting out of the truck, picked up one by the scruff of the neck, and set it down behind Callie’s seat.

“See, that didn’t kill you, did it?” Callie said.

He started for the second one and the critter ran. White dog. White snow. Woman who was turned around in the seat talking baby talk to the puppy hunkered down in the floorboard of the back seat. He could shut the door and go and no one would be the wiser, but he couldn’t leave that puppy out there to freeze.

He engaged the parking brake and crawled out of the truck.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Keeping you from slinging snot,” he said gruffly.

Stepping out in the blinding snow, he caught a movement to his right. He whistled and the pup whined but kept backing down into the ditch. The ground was uneven and slick with several inches of snow on top of a thick layer of ice. One second Finn was bending to catch the dog; the next he was sprawled out on his stomach, snow in his nose, his mouth, and down the front of his shirt. But, by damn, he had that critter by the leg.

“Finn! What is going on?” Callie yelled.

He came up with the wet dog and carefully carried it back to the truck. “There were two of them, and this one is shy. I had to run her down.”

“My God, Finn, are you all right?”

He put the whining pup on the back floorboard, crawled into the driver’s seat, and started home. “Are you happy now?”

“Coming from the man who takes in strays more often than I do,” she said.

“They are not living in the house. We will put them in the barn. They’ll be big dogs, and we’ve got enough animals in the house.” His focus was straight ahead. If he looked at her and she cried, he’d give in, and this was one fight he didn’t intend to lose.

“Yes, sir, boss man. I was going to suggest the same thing. I believe they’ve got some Great Pyrenees in them, so they’ll get big quick. But they’ll be great cattle dogs,” she said. “I can’t wait until the kids see them. I’m glad there are two. One would be lonely.”

Her tone had changed, but Finn wasn’t ready to make up, not yet. He hadn’t liked the way she’d flirted with all those Brennan cowboys, and he damn sure hadn’t liked the way they had looked at her.

If he stopped outside the barn, she’d get out and ruin her shoes and possibly her dress. Then tomorrow that would be his fault, so he told her to stay in the truck while he opened the big doors and he drove right into the barn.

Just as he thought, she bailed out of the truck and went straight for the tack room to get a bowl of dry food for the new babies, who were both cowering behind a bale of hay. Finn made a dog pen by arranging eight bales of hay, tossed a horse blanket in the middle, and put food and water off to one end.

“They’ll be fine. Now if Queen Callie says it’s all right, I’d like to go to the house and get out of these wet clothes,” he said.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Don’t make fun of me.”

The puppies ignored the food and water and set up a whimper.

“Thank God you didn’t demand that we take them in the house. They would have wakened everyone and kept us all up until morning.” He sat down on one of the hay bales, jerked off his boots, and removed his socks.