Read A Cowboy Under My Christmas Tree Online
Authors: Janet Dailey
A Cowboy Under My Christmas Tree (26 page)
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Julie came over and found the tree skirt and a holder at the back of the front closet.
“How long have you known Maureen?” Sam asked as they set up the tree.
“Oh, gosh—since she moved here with Hank, I guess. ”Julie didn’t add anything to that.
Greg was studying the tree. Sam had placed the pink sparkle tree next to it.
“It looks kinda plain,” Greg said. “Maybe we should add some decorations.”
Julie shook her head. “I know where they are, but I think we should let Maureen and the kids do that.”
“Yeah. You’re right.”
There was a faint commotion from inside the building. Julie went out and peered down the stairwell, then ran back.
“They’re here,” she said excitedly. “Hide, guys! Dibs on the closet.”
She was small enough to squeeze into it. Sam and Greg stood behind different doors.
The chattering group came up the stairs and barged through the door once Maureen unlocked it.
She saw the tree first. “What—where did that come from?”
“Surprise!” Douglas crowed.
Amanda ran to her pink tree and moved it closer to the big one. “They can be friends!”
Nicole was right behind Maureen, who whirled around and spotted the new refrigerator.
“Oh! But who—”
Sam, Julie, and Greg jumped out. “Surprise! Merry Christmas! It’s from all of us and Theo!”
Maureen gasped. Then she started to bawl.
“Don’t cry, Mom,” Douglas said. “You’ll scare Amanda. ”
Maureen found a chair and sat down with her hand over her mouth. Her son stood next to her and patted her shoulder until she was calmer.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you all.”
“Is it okay if we have two trees? I guess I should have asked,” Douglas said.
“Yes. Yes, of course. I think we should make that a tradition.” She got up. “What am I thinking? I must have a bottle of champagne somewhere. But—it’s not cold.”
Julie held up the one she’d brought. “This is. Get out the glasses. Chocolate milk for you guys,” she said to the children.
Douglas grinned. “There’s some in the cooler. ”
Maureen watched her kids putting some of the ornaments on the big tree. She’d set the fragile ones aside to put on later, just her and Doug, when Amanda went to sleep.
She went through her purse, looking for a pen to write a thank-you note. Her cell phone lit up. She’d missed a call. There was a voice mail message.
She pressed the key to retrieve it and listened.
“Maureen. This is Jon Thomas, from Nash & Thomas. I understand you met Fred Nash. He insisted that I taste your samples, and I have to say I was very impressed.”
Her eyes widened.
“So, ah, I was wondering if you would have time to meet with me in January. I’d like to work up some spreadsheets, cost out the recipes, things like that. Get you started, in other words. Let me know.”
He gave her the number. She jotted it down.
“That’s all. Happy holidays, and stay warm.”
Jon Thomas’s voice was doing just that. Maureen was flabbergasted. She pressed another key to save his message so she could listen to it again. And again.
He sounded younger than his partner. But not too young. He sounded serious but nice. She wondered what he looked like and realized she could probably find that out online.
After both kids were asleep, though.
Maureen snapped out of it. She quickly returned the call. It went to voice mail, but that was to be expected. It was after working hours.
“Hello, Jon. This is Maureen. I got your message. Thanks so much. I’m so glad you like the samples.” She hesitated. “I have others you haven’t tasted, but they’ll keep until January. I just got a new, ah, refrigeration system. Anyway, I’d be happy to come in. Thanks again for your call. ”
Chuckling, Sam set the last of several heavy grocery bags on Nicole’s counter. “Do we have everything?”
“Sam, there’s going to be a blizzard. I like to be prepared.”
“It can’t shut down the city.”
“Oh, yes, it can. Last year was awful. We had three blizzards in a row, and the first one was on Christmas Eve.”
Sam unpacked some of the cans, peering at the label on a flat one. “Kippers? What are kippers?”
“They’re very high in protein,” she said absently, easing a sack of cat chow into a large tin.
“That still doesn’t tell me what they are.” He laughed. “And we’re not at the North Pole, and we don’t have to feed sled dogs.”
“Oh, hush. You’re in my way.”
Sam left her to it, mentally adding a bit to the advice he’d given Alex. Never help a woman pack. Or unpack.
He walked over to the cat tower. Whiskeroo was hiding in the carpeted chamber.
“Don’t be scared,” Sam said, in a friendly, don’t-scratch-my-eyes-out voice. “Aren’t you looking forward to Christmas?”
A weird feline howl came from inside.
“Guess not.”
Sam headed for the sofa and looked at the newspapers Nicole had brought home. The
New York Times
was playing it safe with H
EAVY
S
NOW
M
AY
S
ET
R
ECORDS
T
HROUGHOUT
M
UCH OF
THE
N
ORTHEAST
, over a photo from last year of a stuck bus. The
Daily News
got to the point:
HUGE BLIZZARD TARGETS NYC.
The
Post
said it all with one giant word in white over black.
WHAMMO!
New York Times
was playing it safe with H
EAVY
S
NOW
M
AY
S
ET
R
ECORDS
T
HROUGHOUT
M
UCH OF
THE
N
ORTHEAST
, over a photo from last year of a stuck bus. The
Daily News
got to the point:
HUGE BLIZZARD TARGETS NYC.
The
Post
said it all with one giant word in white over black.
WHAMMO!
The so-called huge storm wasn’t here yet.
“Think I’ll go out and do a little more shopping,” he called.
“Are you crazy?”
Sam got up and put his arms around her. Nicole fought hard for two whole seconds. Then she melted into him. The kiss was the best yet.
“No, I’m not crazy,” he finally replied. “I’m from Colorado, that’s all, and I don’t get all excited about snowstorms. Although I am looking forward to putting a snowball down your back.”
Nicole was flushed and smiling. “If you have to go, then go now.”
“If you insist.” He reached for his jacket and put on his Stetson. Nicole threw the apartment keys at him. “See you.”
Sam ran down the stairs, eager to be outside. The air was heavy with cold, with a hint of electricity. He did smell snow. There were a few flakes whirling around.
Just in case, he decided to take a taxi. The present he’d picked out for Nicole was waiting and gift-wrapped. He hadn’t trusted her not to peek, and she wouldn’t have any trouble guessing what might be inside.
Sam whistled and a yellow cab appeared. He got in and told the driver where to go. “This is going to be a round-trip with two stops,” he told the driver.
There weren’t that many people on the streets, but some determined shoppers were still out. They pulled over at an address on 57th Street that offered exactly what Sam wanted. He’d figured out the size from things she already owned.
Sam strode in, waving to the salesman. “Thanks for holding this for me,” he said.
“I was thinking of closing,” the man replied. “It’s going to be a big storm.”
He gestured toward a small television on the counter.
Sam paid for the wrapped gift, not really listening to the weather hype. “Thanks again.”
The salesman let him out, then started turning off the store lights. The snow was falling, and it wasn’t just a few flakes.
Sam paused before he got into the taxi. The city lights made every flake sparkle, and the tops of the tall buildings were beginning to disappear.
“Go back a couple more blocks,” he said. “Fifty-Seventh and Fifth.”
The driver got him there.
Sam had made this purchase in advance too. He dashed through the doors and headed for the distinguished elderly man who’d helped him select Nicole’s other present.
“Do you need to look at it again, sir? We are closing early.”
“I trust you.”
The elderly man put a pale blue box with a hand-tied white silk bow into a matching shopping bag and handed it to Sam. He felt a little silly carrying such a dainty thing, and tucked it into his jacket.
He skidded on the sidewalk on his way to the waiting taxi. The wipers were whooshing the snow away with some difficulty.
“That’s it. Back to where I started, please.”
The cab stopped in front of Nicole’s building. Sam paid the fare and added a fat tip, then got out. He stomped through several inches of snow that had accumulated on the stoop but paused to look up at the vast, silent snowstorm that had descended on the city.
The old neighborhood looked like a fantasyland, iced with deep snow. Christmas lights shone blurrily through apartment windows here and there. There was no one in sight.
Sam let himself into Nicole’s apartment and put the big box down.
“Glad you’re back,” she said.
“You could be right about the storm,” he admitted, taking off his Stetson.
“What’s in the big box?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know. Wait until Christmas.”
Nicole took his hat and brushed off the snow in the kitchen sink. He slipped the shopping bag out of his jacket and put it on a high shelf when she wasn’t looking. She turned around to take his jacket when he shrugged out of it, brushing it over the bathtub and hanging it up on the rod.
Sam went to the window. He heard a sound he knew: the raging wind was driving the snow hard. “Damn. I can’t see the buildings across the street.”
“Told you.”
“This could be fun.”
Nicole shrugged. “You know, I just realized we could use another dozen eggs. Could you run out?”
Sam shook his head. “Think I’m going to stay right here, if that’s okay with you.”
Nicole came to look out the window, and he moved her in front of him, putting his arms around her waist and dropping a kiss on her hair.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” she said in a soft voice.
“It is. You are too,” he whispered.
The street was plowed out by the following night, Christmas Eve. Nicole had restrained herself from peeking in the big box and she hadn’t found the small shopping bag—he’d moved that from the shelf to a better hiding place.
Sam was the restless one.
“Quit moving that box around,” she told him.
“Just trying to find the right place for it.”
“Put it under that.” She gestured toward the huge paper tree she’d cut out and hung on the wall. There hadn’t been room for a real one from the lot, not with sketches for future projects taking up every inch of available space. The paper tree was adorned with photos of everything they’d done in New York pinned to it and some from Colorado that his sister Annie had e-mailed.
“All right. If you insist.”
“Sam. Do you want me to open it now?”
He grinned at her. “Yeah. Something to do. I guess I have cabin fever. Or do they call it apartment fever in New York?”
Nicole sailed by him and picked up the box, shaking it. There was a soft sort of noise from inside. “It’s lighter than I thought,” she said.
“You mean you never touched it?”
“Nope.”
“Go ahead and open it. I can’t stand the suspense. ”
She made him wait. “Nice paper. I could use this for something.” She peeled it off carefully, looking at the shop logo on the box. “That’s not a store I know.” She opened it and parted the tissue paper.
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