My Kind of Christmas (The Christmas Tree Ranch #1)(53)

Chapter 13


Travis was startled from sleep by a solid weight thumping onto his bed. Warm dog breath and sloppy tongue-licks brought him fully awake. He groaned.

“Damn it, Bucket, this better be important.” He pushed the dog off his chest and sat up. The murky light seeping through the bedroom window told him it was barely dawn outside.

Tail wagging, Bucket jumped off the bed, ran to the bedroom door and then back to the bed. The dog didn’t appear alarmed or worried, just happy.

Happy—at five freaking o’clock in the morning! The silly beast could’ve awakened Rush or Conner. But no, it seemed that Bucket had chosen Travis as his pack leader.

Travis swung his legs off the bed. The linoleum floor was icy on his bare feet. It was too early to go out and feed the horses, but it might be a good idea to light the fire he’d laid last night in the old coal stove to warm the house before stumbling back to bed.

Bucket raced ahead of him to the kitchen door. Still muzzy, Travis opened it to let the dog out. A wonderland of white met his eyes. Snow, well over a foot deep and still falling, blanketed everything in sight, coating trees and fences and forming high mounds where vehicles stood. Even the stillness was breathtaking. But it didn’t last.

With a joyful yip, Bucket rocketed off the porch and went bounding through the fluffy snow, romping, tunneling, and leaping like a crazed rabbit.

Fool dog. Travis shook his head and closed the door, leaving it slightly ajar in case Bucket wanted to come back in and get warm.

By the time he’d lit the fire, he was wide awake. Too bad because, until Bucket had come flying onto his bed, he’d been deep in an erotic dream about Maggie. The chance of picking up that dream where he’d left off would have lured him back to bed. But dreams didn’t work that way. Neither, it seemed, did real life.

Travis had lain awake half the night thinking about Featherstone and having to go to court to fight those two bogus tickets. The thought had stirred memories of his last court appearance, which had ended in a nightmare. Then there was Hank and his dirty tricks—and there was Maggie, who seemed on the verge of giving up on him. He should have known that there’d be no chance of anything lasting with such a classy woman.

Damn it, he needed a break. But there was no break to be had from the black cloud of worry hanging over him this morning.

Still in his thermal long johns, he was making coffee when Conner came half-stumbling down the hall carrying his clothes and boots. “What the devil are you doing up so early?” he muttered.

“Ask that damn fool dog,” Travis said. “He’s the one who wanted to go out and play in the snow.”

“Snow?” Conner dropped his clothes, strode to the window, and peered through the frosted panes. “Hallelujah! Will you look at that? Do you know what this means?”

“I’d say it means lots of shoveling.” Travis filled two mugs with coffee and put one on the table for Conner. “We haven’t even started, and my back can feel it already.”

“No, man!” Conner picked up his jeans and pulled them on. “I mean, yes, we’ll have to shovel. But think. Think sleigh rides!”

“I’m thinking.” Travis sipped his coffee, letting the heat seep into his limbs. Of the three partners, only Conner knew how to hitch and drive a team of horses. If the sleigh rides were to become part of their Christmas tree operation, that would have to change.

Conner seemed to read his mind. “How does this sound?” he asked. “First, we shovel the snow. Then, we take a few hours to teach you and Rush the ropes of sleigh hitching and driving.”

“Fine,” Travis agreed. “The sooner we get started, the better.”

“In that case, we’d better wake Rush,” Conner said. “You know how he likes to sleep in.”

“Be my guest,” Travis said. “If Rush bites your head off, that’s your problem.”

Just then a black nose pushed open the back door. Covered in snow, tongue lolling and tail wagging, Bucket pattered into the kitchen. When he shook his fur, wet snow flew in all directions.

Conner looked at the dripping dog and grinned. “Sure, I’ll wake Rush. No problem. Come on, Bucket.”

He led the dog back up the hallway to Rush’s room and cracked open the door. Travis could hear the sound of Rush’s snoring all the way to the kitchen.

Conner opened the door wider and glanced down at Bucket. His grin widened as he pointed to Rush’s sleeping form in the bed. “Go get ’im, boy!” he commanded.

For all the weight of his worries, Travis couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed so hard.

*

Maggie took advantage of the Sunday storm to sleep late. It was almost 8:00 when she roused herself, slipped on her robe, and pattered into the kitchen to make tea and toast. When she opened her front door to get the morning paper off the porch, she was greeted by sunshine, blue sky, and a wonderland of glistening snow. A helpful neighbor with a snow blower had already cleared her walk, and the city snowplow was just coming down her street. There’d be no shoveling for her today.

This was her idea of a perfect morning—calm, sunlit, and beautiful. There was only one person she wanted to share it with. But that wasn’t going to happen. Given the tension between herself and Travis, they were better off staying apart, at least until the end of the pre-holiday season.