Christmas at Home (Spikes & Spurs #5) - Carolyn Brown Page 0,73
that got to do with ice skating?”
“Honey, a dance floor is not as slippery as a greased pig. If I can’t master the dance floor, it’ll be tough to master an icy pond.”
Her laughter was music to his ears.
He went on, “If you could shake a little cornmeal or saw dust on the pond, it might help me stay upright. Or maybe I could rig up a pillow to my ass.”
Her eyes twinkled. “That visual is beyond funny. We could just get Grandpa’s old sled out of the hayloft and play with it. It’s wide enough for both of us. We could drag it up the hill.”
“What hill?”
“The roads are still icy so they aren’t open yet,” she said.
“Are you serious?”
“It’s that or skating.”
He weighed the options.
“Neither. Let’s make popcorn and hot chocolate and watch an old Western movie on television. We can cuddle up together under a nice warm quilt on the sofa and Noel and Angel can check on us if we fall asleep.”
“Right now that sounds like a wonderful plan. You ever seen McLintock! with John Wayne?”
“Only about twenty times. It’s one of my favorites.”
“It always reminds me of Lawton and Eva. We’ve got it on DVD so we could watch it this afternoon.”
“Sounds a lot better than bustin’ my butt on the pond or breaking my neck with your grandpa’s sled. Why does it remind you of Lawton and Eva?”
“Well, Lawton is kind of like a young John Wayne. He doesn’t look like him. Lawton is a whole lot more handsome. But he’s got that bigger than life force about him. And Eva, well, she’s this fiery redhead with a flaming hot temper to go with her hair. They’re clashing all the time over April.”
“Think they’ll ever get back together?”
“Oh, no! She’s settled into her real estate business and he’s a cowboy. And she hates the canyon. I mean she really hates it. It would never work, but still the movie kind of reminds me of them.”
Creed would watch a musical chick flick that afternoon if it would take Sage’s mind off the cemetery and the empty space between the mound of snow where her grandfather was buried and the next one over where her dad’s remains had been put to rest. And Creed did not like musicals or chick flicks.
For their noon meal they had grilled cheese sandwiches and hot tomato soup that she’d spiced up with some garlic powder and a dash of Worcestershire sauce. Afterwards she arranged a dozen cookies on a platter and set them in the middle of the table.
“Toes about thawed out?” he asked.
“They’re tingling,” she answered.
“Won’t be long then. Let’s take a cup of hot chocolate to the living room and watch Lawton and Eva.”
“Wait until you meet them both. I swear this could be their story, only theirs doesn’t have a happy ever after ending.”
“You believe in happy ever after?”
“Only in books and movies.”
She pulled the quilt from the back of the sofa over them. He put an arm around her and pushed a strand of electrified hair out of her face. She pushed a button on the remote and the music at the start of the movie began. Until that moment, Creed had never realized that the movie was a chick flick before chick flicks were even popular. The first song talked about birds and bees, flowers and trees, until they were up to their knees in love.
The first scene showed a hat on the weather vane and two cowboys arguing about whether it was the sixth or seventh time that week that the boss had arrived home snockered and thrown his hat up there.
Women could drive a cowboy to drinking for sure, but Creed wasn’t sure in his drunkest state that he could have landed his hat on the weather vane on the top of his folks’ house.
The second scene was the sound of cattle bawling as John Wayne’s character rode his horse into the middle of the herd. Cowboys rode horses and drove bawling cows down a mountainside. The terrain in the movie reminded him of the canyon. The mountains weren’t as steep, but the Palo Duro had ridges and backbones just like the scene in the movie.
Her hand snuck inside his flannel shirt and rested on his chest. He covered it with his and kissed the top of her head. She raised her head and their lips met in a clash.
“This is not slowing down a wagon, Sage. It’s letting it go full blast