Mistletoe Cowboy Read Online Free

anyway.”
    It wasn’t his ranch or his cows or his milk. She’d wear Grand down with the sheer volume of her arguments even if she had to whine and pout. Like she had said, he probably wouldn’t do the job right anyway.
    She went to the huge walk-in pantry, then picked up a gallon jar and a piece of clean cheesecloth. She put the cloth on top of the jar, made an indention in the top with her fist, and deftly wrapped a rubber band around the edge of the jar. Then she carefully poured the milk through the cloth and into the jar.
    When the job was finished she removed the cloth, tossed it into the empty milk bucket, and set the bucket in the kitchen sink. She squirted dish soap into the bucket and ran warm water in it, washed out the cheesecloth, hung it on the dish drainer, and turned the bucket upside down in the drainer.
    â€œYou don’t waste time or motions. That’s good,” he said.
    Sage picked up her coffee and carried it to the living room where she curled up in the rocking chair. Creed followed her and she did her dead level best to ignore him. He had no right to be sitting in Grand’s rocking chair with his long legs pushed toward the fire that she’d built.
    ***
    Sage was prettier than the picture of her sitting on the mantel and a lot bigger than he’d imagined she would be. She was almost six feet tall and there wasn’t one thing delicate or dainty about her. She looked like she could take down a full grown bull with one hand tied behind her back. And yet, with black hair floating on her shoulders, eyes the color of milk chocolate, and those full lips, she was sexy as hell. Tall women had never appealed to him but he had to admit, she was a looker, alright.
    Hearing that her grandmother had up and sold the ranch had to be the shock of a lifetime. He couldn’t imagine what it would feel like if his parents sold the ranch he’d lived on his whole life.
    Of all the scenarios he’d imagined, this certainly wasn’t the way he intended to meet Sage Presley. Keeping his eyes straight ahead, he stole a sideways glance toward her. She looked at the dog as if she could wish him out of the house. It wouldn’t work. If she’d wanted him out of the house, she’d have to grab him by his wiry fur and throw him out and then she’d better shut the door real fast or else he’d beat her back inside.
    So much for visions of having a friendship with the woman; hell, he’d be lucky if she didn’t try to murder him in his sleep. He’d have to start locking the bedroom door at night, maybe even putting a chair in front of it for extra protection.
    He wiggled his toes and said, “Ah, that does feel good.”
    â€œWhen did all this happen?” she asked.
    â€œWhat? The storm?”
    â€œHell, no! When did you come here and why did she sell the Rockin’ C to you? The first I heard about this was yesterday morning, and I had no idea you were already here. At first I thought she was teasing, but then she made me understand that she was serious so tell me what you did to make her sell to you,” she asked coldly.
    He stared right into her eyes. “Are you asking or demanding?”
    â€œI’m not asking or demanding. I’m wondering how this all happened so fast.” She stared back and it became a battle of wills as to who would blink first.
    The dog growled and they both looked down at the same time. Poor old boy was probably fighting off a coyote in his sleep because his eyes were still shut.
    â€œOkay,” Creed said. “I can tell you when and what happened. I don’t know why she sold to me and not to someone else. You was gone off to your artist thing when I called and asked if I could come to the ranch and talk to her. She showed me around. I liked what I saw and she gave me a price. We shook and I put up the escrow, but she says she won’t sign the papers or cash the check until three weeks are up