Christmas in Cowboy Country

by Janet Dailey

  “He showed up just in time,” Darla added.

  “Huh?”

  “There’s a man shortage in Velde. All the good ones are taken.”

  Annie smiled politely. “I don’t think he’s moving here.”

  “So you talked to him?”

  “Yes. He was out by our ranch, surveying Chuck Pfeffer’s land.”

  “Lucky you.”

  Annie braced herself for a barrage of curious questions. But Darla had more to confide on the subject of the handsome stranger, who apparently wasn’t as reserved as Annie had first thought.

  “Some friends of mine decided to go to Nell’s saloon for beers and sandwiches and there he was, long legs and all. One or two of us made eye contact. From a distance. Nothing happened, but something could have, put it that way.”

  “So he was there alone.”

  The thought just came out. Annie bit her lip. “No. He was with a woman. She was gorgeous,” Darla emphasized. “I have no idea who she was, but they sure seemed to know each other.”

  Annie was quiet as she gazed into the fire, tuning out Darla’s speculations on the subject. Apparently her own talent for fooling herself had led her to believe that she might have an exclusive on a man who’d made it clear that he was just passing through. But it didn’t really matter. It wasn’t like she and Marshall had done anything more than kiss a few times.

  Darla stopped and poked her. “Hey. Are you listening?”

  Annie only shrugged. “Sure. But he really can’t be the only available guy in town.”

  “Please. He is,” Darla insisted. “And right now he’s at the top of everyone’s wish list. I can’t believe you don’t want to get to know him better.”

  A small smile curved Annie’s mouth. She wasn’t going to fill Darla in on her efforts to do that so far. “Go for it,” was all she said.

  “How? Follow his truck around?”

  “Whatever works.”

  A college-age waitress with a tray stopped by the sofa. “Can I get you ladies anything else?” she chirped.

  “Nothing for me, thanks.” Annie wasn’t sure she liked being referred to as a lady. It made her feel—not old, but older than she was.

  Darla handed over the cups. “Me neither. Here you go. Appreciate it.”

  “No problem.” The waitress walked away, balancing the tray with the cups as if she was practicing.

  Annie had started the same way, covering weekend shifts at ski resort restaurants and bars just to be close to the action and able to ski during the weekdays, when the slopes were less crowded. It seemed like a long time ago.

  “You ready?” Darla asked. She pulled up the socks inside her huge boots.

  “Yes.” Annie stretched a bit, then put on her jacket, glancing up at the clock framed by antlers. They had been talking longer than she’d thought.

  Darla went out first, lift ticket in her hand. Annie stopped briefly at the deck railing and looked for Marshall’s truck.

  It was still there. A flash of black and white circled it and stopped at the passenger side door. Someone opened it from the inside and Rowdy jumped in.

  Annie was pretty damn sure that Marshall hadn’t done the opening. The person had been wearing pink.

  She blew out the breath she’d been holding. Better to know than not to know, even though what Marshall Stone did was none of her business. It was no big deal. Life went on no matter what she might want. Annie was an expert at getting up and moving on. The trick was to stay busy and not brood. Maybe Nell needed her help with something.

  Darla dropped her off in front of the saloon, but not before Annie looked up and down the main street for Stone’s truck.

  “Right here is fine,” Annie said. “I parked around the corner.”

  “Okay. Nice talking with you, Annie. Let me know when you can ski again. I felt kinda guilty having so much fun.”

  “You shouldn’t. I like doing nothing sometimes. It’s probably good for me.”

  “Stay in touch.”

  “I will. Thanks for the ride.”

  She got out and waved to Darla as she sped away in her zippy little car.

  Annie turned and looked through the windows of Nell’s saloon. The sign said OPEN, but she didn’t see her friend. Or anyone else.

  She went through the swinging half doors to the winterized entry and took a final peek through the glass of the inside door, looking for a pink sweater or jacket. The booths were empty.

  Annie heaved a sigh. She couldn’t fault Marshall Stone for just being a man like all the others. She went in. “Nell? You here?”

  “Coming.”

  The older woman appeared, maneuvering a hand truck stacked with liquor cartons. “Hi, Annie. Want to help me restock?”

  “Sure.”

  The two of them filled in the empty spots in the display of bottles in front of the mirror and got set up for happy hour. There were no customers, which made the various tasks go quickly.

  Nell stepped back and cast a critical eye on the display. “I think that’ll do it,” she said with satisfaction. “Thanks for your help.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Lucky for me you were in town,” Nell added.

  “I was meeting a friend up at the ski lodge.”

  “Such a clear day,” Nell enthused. “The view must have been amazing.”

  “Yes.”

  “So are you heading home now?”

  “Might as well.”

  “I’ll walk you to your car. I could use a breath of fresh air.”

  Annie slipped on her jacket again and waited for Nell to put on her coat and gloves. The older woman turned the OPEN sign to the side that said BACK IN FIVE.

  They stopped to admire a few shop windows along the way, decked out with tinsel and gift-wrapped boxes to attract holiday shoppers. The Thanksgiving themes painted by the schoolchildren had been washed off, replaced by spray snow and glitter applied from the inside to frame the merchandise.

  “Hmm. I’m trying to remember if I need something,” Nell said thoughtfully. “Still haven’t put up those Christmas decorations.”

  “I’ll help you.”

  “You don’t have to, Annie.”

  “Why not? It’s fun. Something to do.”

  “You should be going on dates, not dusting off those old things.”

  Nell gave her a sympathetic look that Annie missed, because she was peering through the window at a scale model of a covered wagon.

  “Now that is wonderful,” Annie said in awe, reading the title on the placard by the display. CHRISTMAS CROSSING. 1880. “Bet that’s exactly how it was back then.”

  “Yes indeed. I guess we don’t have anything to complain about.”

  A small figure of an old cowboy dressed in worn denim and a sheepskin coat held the reins of a team of straining oxen, his slouch hat pulled down low and his shoulders hunched, as if he were bracing himself against a fierce, invisible wind. A tear in the covered wagon’s taut canvas offered a peek at wrapped gifts amid barrels and boxes of foodstuffs and necessities.

  Annie kneeled down to see the cowboy’s face. “Look at his wrinkles. Can you see, Nell? The face is made of dried apple.”

  “It sure is. Can’t you just feel the snow he’s fighting against?” Nell leaned in, her breath frosty on the glass. “I wonder who made it.”

  Annie looked more closely at the placard. “An original work created by Chester Byron Hamilton.”

  “What a romantic name. But I don’t think I know him.”

  “Not everyone is from Velde,” Annie teased her.

  “Just you hush up.” Nell straightened and bumped into someone behind her, apologizing automatically. “Oh dear. I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you.” With a look of surprise on her face, Nell reached out to steady a wobbly old lady. “Elsie?”

  Annie recognized Mrs. Pearson from the post office. She had a crocheted hat over her wispy white hair and wore a heavy coat that looked as if she’d had it a long time.

&nb
sp; “Hello, Nell.” Her voice quavered just a little, but she smiled. “How have you been?”

  “Just fine. And you?” Without waiting for an answer, Nell made the introductions. “Annie, I’d like you to meet Elsie Pearson. She was the school principal back when I first started teaching. Elsie, this is Annie Bennett.”

  “A pleasure.” Mrs. Pearson nodded courteously and extended a thin, gloved hand.

  Annie shook it carefully.

  Nell looked as if she was just about to hug the frail figure, but she hesitated. The authority that Mrs. Pearson had once had wasn’t entirely gone. The old lady still held herself with dignity.

  “I haven’t seen you for so long,” Nell went on. “Would you mind if I came over some afternoon?”

  Mrs. Pearson seemed to be trying to come up with a polite refusal. “That would be lovely,” she said after a few moments. “But please call first. Jack’s health isn’t what it used to be and he doesn’t like unexpected company. He’s been undergoing tests, but the doctor has no definite diagnosis.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” Nell chose not to dwell on what was obviously a sensitive topic. “And of course I’ll call in advance. If I stop by, you won’t have to do a thing. I’ll bring cake and coffee from Jelly Jam. Would that do?”

  “Yes.” Mrs. Pearson looked relieved. “Very nicely. That’s thoughtful of you, Nell.” She drew herself up to her full height of five foot nothing and fixed her clear gaze on Annie’s for a few seconds. “Nice to have met you, my dear. Now I must be going.”

  They said their good-byes. Both Nell and Annie turned to watch the old lady’s progress along the street. She walked without a cane, but not quickly, avoiding the icy spots.

  “Goodness. Mrs. Pearson must be close to ninety by now,” Nell said in a low voice. “There doesn’t seem to be anything wrong with her vision. But I wonder what’s going on with her husband. Jack was always such a stalwart man—he was a rancher. They sold the place shortly after she retired. It’s a shame, really. I know how much she loved it. But moving to town probably made sense by then.”

  “Maybe we could help her somehow,” Annie said. Her take-charge, get-it-done side was kicking in. Having something to think about besides a problem by the name of Marshall Stone would be a boon.

  Nell’s expression was pensive. “I had the same thought. But do you know something I don’t?”

  “Before you introduced us, I noticed Mrs. Pearson at the post office. She had a tax bill in one hand and an envelope from that speaker at the town meeting in the other. Connally.”

  “Really.” Nell’s penciled eyebrows rose. “I’ve been hearing that name. Of course, I don’t try to eavesdrop on customers, but sometimes it’s unavoidable. Some older folks have been discussing the man. He’s looking for investors.”

  “I wouldn’t give him a dime.”

  Nell gave a neutral shrug. “I gathered that he’s selling shares in a high-yield private fund of some sort.”

  “Is that all?”

  Nell studied her for a long moment. “What’s gotten into you?”

  Annie didn’t quite know. Maybe she just needed to think about someone besides herself and do a good deed while she was at it. She’d gotten over the idea long ago that obsessing over some guy for weeks was worthwhile.

  “Seeing Mrs. Pearson again, I guess,” she said quickly. “I did worry when I spotted the envelopes, because I didn’t like Connally, but she didn’t know me from Adam and I didn’t expect to run into her again.”

  “It’s a sign. Is that what you’re saying?”

  “No. I don’t believe in signs. But you just filled in a few blanks and got me thinking.”

  “I see.” Nell didn’t quibble. “Well, the Pearsons may need help of some kind. God knows they were thrifty, but they never had much money to spare. Still, I doubt they would give someone like Connally the time of day.”

  “We could find out.”

  “Annie, the Pearsons were proud people and I’m sure they still are. Is their situation, whatever it might be, any of our business?”

  Annie planted herself on the sidewalk. “You and I both know that quarterly property taxes are due by the end of the year. Maybe Mr. Pearson’s health isn’t the only thing she’s worried about.”

  “I wish I had followed up when she stopped coming to church last spring,” Nell fretted. “But I never seemed to have the time.”

  “Let’s talk about what we can do right now. Something’s going on in Velde and it has to do with real estate.”

  Annie left Marshall Stone out of it. Her initial sense that he was somehow involved in a secret land grab had been replaced with other suspicions that she was damned if she’d discuss with Nell or anyone else. She wasn’t really able to believe that he would cheat anyone out of money or land. And she couldn’t quite say that he had cheated on her when she had known him for only a few weeks.

  But it still felt like it.

  Nell snapped her out of it with a quick question. “Are you serious, Annie?”

  “Yes. I even spoke to the town clerk. She wouldn’t say anything specific, but she had her doubts about Connally too.”

  “Oh my. Harriet Sargent is such a levelheaded gal. What exactly did she say?”

  “Not much. But I’d like to get your take on what I’ve figured out so far.”

  Annie steered Nell down the street toward the café just ahead. She opened the door, inhaling the mixed fragrance of cinnamon and caramel. Fresh-brewed coffee provided the top note.

  Nell swept past her to a table by the window. She put her purse over the back of a chair and got comfortable before the waitress arrived to take their order.

  “Tell me everything,” she said to Annie. “Begin at the beginning.”

  Chapter 10

  Nell was as good as her word. She called Mrs. Pearson and then Annie, to let her know that they were invited to the Pearsons’ the day after next.

  “Don’t dress up,” she told Annie. “Sometimes the housekeeping is the first thing to go for old folks. I don’t want to make her feel awkward.”

  The Pearson house turned out to be neat as a pin, once Elsie had opened the door and quickly motioned them inside. “Hello, you two. So nice of you to come. Don’t let the hat out.”

  She smiled, but Annie knew she wasn’t joking. It was a charming old house—a cottage, really—with tall windows that let in abundant sunlight and bone-chilling drafts as well. Mrs. Pearson wore a thick, hand-knit sweater with a cowl collar that she had pulled up over her white hair. Annie didn’t want to be rude, but she kept her jacket on.

  Nell was braver and also better upholstered. She took off her swing coat and hung it on a foyer hook, over the handle of a cane that was much too long for Mrs. Pearson. Annie assumed it belonged to her husband.

  “Everything is just the same, Elsie. Thanks so much for inviting us.” Nell paused, looking around discreetly. “Where’s Jack?”

  “Taking a nap.” Elsie glanced toward a room with a closed door.

  “Oh. Well, we can save some cake for him.” She held up the bag with take-out coffees and a small bakery box.

  “Thank you, Nell. I’ll be sure to tell him you were here. Please sit down, Annie.” Mrs. Pearson led the way to a sunroom filled with plants and wicker chairs. It was warm enough for Annie to shed her jacket and relax a little.

  Nell pretty much took over the conversation as the coffees were set out and the cake sliced and served up on small porcelain plates. Annie simply listened as the older women talked and talked. Mrs. Pearson sat up straight when Nell finally ventured onto the subject of money.

  “Elsie, I want you to know something. Now, please don’t take this the wrong way.”

  The old lady’s calm gaze didn’t change, but she did raise an eyebrow.

  “If you need anything at all—for yourself or for Jack—I just want you to know that I would be happy to help. I did very well after I retired and started my new business.”

  Mrs. Pearson gave a faint sm
ile. “Somehow I never imagined you behind a bar, dear.”

  “You should come in. Maybe not on football nights, but in the afternoon.”

  “Thank you for the invitation. Perhaps I will someday. I suppose I shouldn’t have worn that shabby old coat the other day. I think you got the wrong impression. But I appreciate your kindness.”

  Mrs. Pearson set aside her plate. Annie noticed that she had barely touched her slice of cake.

  “I haven’t done anything yet,” Nell reminded her.

  “And you won’t have to. We don’t need help. Jack and I get by. There’s not much that we need at this stage of our lives.”

  “That could change.”

  The old lady cleared her throat. “Everything changes,” she said dryly. “Including who does what. Jack used to handle things like finances. I never had to worry. But he can’t anymore. So I’m learning what I can.”

  “Oh?” Nell didn’t rush into the void with a lot of chatter for once. Annie waited.

  “I spoke with that Mr. Connally recently. He gave me some good advice. He may be able to give us the cash we need to stay in our home, but it’s complicated. I couldn’t say I understand every little detail of what he was proposing.”

  “Make sure that you do, Elsie,” Nell said firmly.

  “Oh, I will. First I have to find our copy of the deed.”

  Nell and Annie exchanged a look.

  “Of course, I haven’t signed anything yet.”

  “Will you talk to me before you do?” Nell said.

  Mrs. Pearson looked up at the sound of a door opening elsewhere in the house. “Yes. But not now.”

  A tall, stoop-shouldered man came toward them and stopped in the doorway of the sunny room. Though his rugged face was lined and weathered, he was still handsome. But his gaze lacked focus. He looked at each of them in turn, smiling at his wife and staring hard at Nell.

  “Hello, Jack,” Nell said cheerfully.

  “Hello.” His deep voice sounded polite but blank, as if he had no idea who the woman who’d just greeted him might be.

  “This is Annie,” his wife said. “And you know Nell.”

  It was heartbreakingly clear that he didn’t.