Stranded With Santa. Janet TronstadЧитать онлайн книгу.
turning bitter, so he walked along the south side of the truck until he reached the vehicle’s back door. Cold, hard flakes of snow hit against his face.
Zach had given up and put the Santa beard and hat on before he even got to Mrs. Goussley’s. It was the cookies that had done it. Every place he stopped someone shoved a plate of homemade cookies into his hands. He explained that he wasn’t Delores—shoot, he wasn’t even the doctor—he wasn’t entitled to any cookies. But no one listened. It was Christmas, they said, and he looked like a nice young man.
He hadn’t been called a nice young man since he’d started riding rodeo.
He was getting soft, he thought glumly as he yanked the furry red cap farther down on his head and snapped the fake white beard into place. The cardboard box marked “Collins” and the pie were all the mail left to deliver.
Zach lifted the two things up. It would only take a minute to get the box up to the porch. Once there, he’d see about a quick Santa picture with the kids and head back to town. Maybe Thunder would be able to travel by then. If Zach was lucky, he’d be in the arms of that showgirl by Christmas after all.
Even from a distance Zach could see the woman was younger than he’d thought she would be. He’d guess her age at twenty-five or twenty-six. He shared the doctor’s surprise that she’d taken on a farm in the middle of Montana. He would expect someone like her to move into one of the cities like Billings or maybe Missoula. Someplace that had a video store and a beauty shop.
Not that it was any of his worry. She could live on the moon for all he cared.
“Package,” Zach said when he got close enough to the porch to thrust the package at the woman.
Short blond curls blew around her face, and up close he confirmed his opinion of her. Even in the cold, she would draw some attention in a crowd. The wind had turned her nose pink to match her cheeks.
Zach had a momentary wish he’d taken the Santa suit off before he’d made his last delivery. Lots of women had a weakness for cowboys. He’d never heard of a woman yet who thought a fat, polyester Santa was sexy.
Not that he was interested in what this woman or any woman in this part of Montana thought about him. What he’d told the doctor had been true—he was just delivering the mail and then passing through.
If Zach had been paying attention to what he was doing instead of admiring the woman in front of him, he would have seen her eyes sooner. Startled blue eyes looked straight at him.
“It’s the mail,” Zach clarified. No one else had greeted him with anything remotely like panic. Maybe she thought he was some kind of kook. “The suit’s for the old ladies. Well, that and the pictures. Delores wanted you to have one with your kids.”
“Where’s the doctor?”
“Back in town looking after my horse.”
“You’ve got a horse.” The young boy looked around his mother’s thigh and up at Zach. His eyes shone with wonder. “A real horse.”
The two children stood on either side of the woman. The boy’s jeans were neatly patched at the knees, and he obviously took his fair share of tumbles; the girl’s clothes were well washed but showed no sign of stains or tears. Not even little ones. The boy’s eyes had already welcomed Zach, but the girl’s were more careful.
“Thunder’s as real as a horse can be, even when he’s sick,” Zach said. “In his day, he was the best bucking bronc around.”
“Santa has reindeer—not horses,” the young girl pointedly corrected Zach as she crossed her arms. Zach pegged her age at seven. Maybe eight. “You need to get the story straight.”
“It’s no story,” Zach protested. “I’m not—”
The woman’s eyes widened in even more alarm and Zach stopped. He looked back down at the young boy.
“—in a hurry,” Zach fumbled. Were there still kids left that believed in Santa Claus? Apparently so. “I’m not in a hurry at all.”
The woman smiled in relief.
Now, that woman should smile more often, Zach thought. She was pretty without it, but when she smiled she made him think of one of those soap ads where they try to picture springtime. It might be twenty degrees below zero on this porch right now, but when he looked at her he could almost see the green meadow she should be walking through.
But, Zach reminded himself, he wasn’t here to think of meadows. He was here to deliver the mail, snap a picture and give away the last of those blasted candy canes.
“I have something for you in my pocket.” Zach had moved the last of the candy canes from the bag to his pocket several stops back. “Just let me set this box down inside the house and I’ll get it out for you.”
Zach didn’t notice that the alarm on the woman’s face turned to dismay.
“I can take the package,” Jenny offered. She wasn’t ready for company.
“No problem. I’ve got it,” Zach said as he stepped up to the door the boy was opening.
“But I can—” Jenny started to repeat even as she watched the man walk into her kitchen. Great, she thought. Just what she needed—some man in a Santa suit seeing her house. Every man she had ever known expected a woman to keep a neat house. Stacks of boxes and fold-up furniture would hardly qualify as neat.
She hoped the beard would hide his disapproval. Although, she told herself with a tilt of her chin, it wasn’t any of his business what kind of a housekeeper she was.
Chapter Two
“I haven’t had a chance to get to town much yet,” Jenny said defensively as she stepped through the kitchen doorway behind the man. She hadn’t minded when Delores Norris had come inside and sat on one of the folding chairs. But a strange man was different. “I’ve been meaning to find some used furniture or something.”
The man set the box and a foil-wrapped pie down on the kitchen counter and started patting his pockets.
The kitchen counter was covered with tiles so old the white had turned yellow, but Jenny had scrubbed the grout clean. The floor, too, was spotlessly clean even though the linoleum was cracked. No one could say the place was dirty, she reminded herself, even if they could say it lacked almost everything else to recommend it.
“I’ve asked about garage sales—then I’ll be able to buy a few things,” Jenny continued before realizing the man was not only not listening, but he hadn’t even taken a good look around. He probably didn’t realize that all that stood in the kitchen was a broom in one corner and the folding card table and chairs that sat square in the middle.
“I must have another candy cane here someplace.” The Santa man turned and held up one candy cane. The plastic around the red-and-white cane was wrinkled and looked as if it had been slept on. “I’m sure I couldn’t have given them all out already.”
The man continued patting his pockets a little frantically. “I gave one for each of the cats—that was five—and a few extra when she said one of the cats was going to have kittens—and then she gave me that plate of cookies, and I had to give her some for that—but I should still have—”
Zach made another pass at checking the pocket on his right. The suit only had the two large pockets, and they had both been full of candy canes. He shouldn’t have given so many to Mrs. Goussley and her cats. Not when two children were waiting at the end of the route. “Maybe one dropped out in the truck. I’ll go see.”
Zach smiled at the kids to show they could trust him. The boy smiled back, so excited he was almost spinning. The girl eyed Zach suspiciously. No smile there. She clearly had her doubts about him and the promised candy cane. Well, he didn’t blame her. At least she wasn’t whining about it.
Zach walked