Cindi Lou guffawed loudly. “I knew it! He’s the one, isn’t he?”
“Yeah.” Misty got up and looked out the window at Big John’s dark silhouette. “This is the most amazing place.”
“That’s what I hear.” Cindi Lou’s voice changed from playful to serious. “I got a call from Audrey. She figured—and rightly so—that she’d better come clean with me. Who’d a thunk it? National Timber.”
“Trey’s working with me now.”
“Good. He’s an insider and that always helps.”
“Now that we’ve got all the pieces in place, we’ll catch those culprits.” Misty paced across the room.
“Big business equals big money equals big trouble.”
“I know.”
“So, stay safe.”
“I’m on it.”
“And, darlin’, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” Cindi Lou chuckled in her low, husky voice and cut the connection.
Misty walked over to the Christmas angel. She stroked a fingertip across the blond hair, down the satin gown, and pressed the button. Soon joyous music of the season filled the air.
And she felt at peace.
Chapter 35
On Christmas Eve, Misty rode beside Trey in his pickup down Wildcat Bluff’s Main Street. Christmas in the Country was in full swing on a beautiful sunny day with bright blue skies. A horse-drawn carriage festooned with red and green ribbons and filled with a family of merrymakers clip-clopped its way along the redbrick lane. Gene Autry’s melodious voice on the outdoor sound system filled the air, along with the scent of kettle corn. A proprietor stirred sugar into popcorn in a big kettle under a bright red awning. A row of folks waited in line to get the fresh-popped kettle corn.
Misty had plenty of time to look through her open window as traffic stalled in a long line while folks found parking places. The town teemed with people wearing holiday clothes. Adelia’s Delights, Morning’s Glory, Gene’s Boot Hospital, and the Chuckwagon Café looked to be doing big business along with other establishments. A line of children waited with their parents to talk with a jolly-looking Santa Claus wearing a bright red suit and sporting a long white beard as he sat on a bench in the shade on the boardwalk.
“Guess I should’ve taken the back road,” Trey said.
“Oh, no. I wanted to see Christmas in the Country.”
“You couldn’t believe we’d get this big a turnout, could you?”
“It’s amazing.”
“And a tradition for some families. They come with their kids, grandkids, and grandparents in tow.”
“I’m so happy to be here.”
He smiled at her. “And enjoying Christmas, too.”
“Thanks to my Christmas angel.” She smiled back at him as she touched the angel on the macramé cord around her neck.
“I’m not going to have to fight you for that necklace, am I?” he teased with a twinkle in his eyes.
She grasped the horse harness hardware and gave him a cautionary look. “You brought it back to me, so that means I get it.”
He laughed. “Come to think of it, I don’t want to get on Morning Glory’s bad side, so you’d better keep it.”
“Bet she’d make you one if I asked her nicely.”
“Thanks but no thanks.” He laughed. “I’m doing fine with my usual holiday clothes.”
He looked heart-stoppingly handsome in a forest-green Western shirt, pressed jeans, and snake cowboy boots. He was wearing his big Santa Claus belt buckle on a brown leather belt. He’d set a dark brown felt cowboy hat with a snake hatband on the backseat.
She’d worn a simple short-sleeve, crimson cotton top, jeans, red boots, and a gift from Trey. He’d brought her a pin in the shape of three green Christmas trees with five dangling miniature sleigh bells that jingled every time she made a movement. Kitsch at its finest.
“Did I tell you Ruby gave me that shirt I borrowed from her?”
Trey cast Misty a sidelong glance with plenty of heat. “Maybe it wasn’t in too good a shape after we got done with it.”
She tossed him an even hotter look in return. “You mean, after you practically ripped it from my body.”
“Now you know why cowboys are partial to snap shirts.”
She ran her fingers down the pearl snap buttons on his shirt. “How fast do you think I could get this shirt off you?”
“Not fast enough.”
She felt a sizzle of heat jump from his chest to her hand. She quickly patted him, then leaned primly back in her seat. “Better get our minds on something else.”
“Nothing better.”
“Appreciate you bringing my stuff over from your place.”
“Hoped you’d come back to get it.”
“If not for Christmas in the Country, I would’ve.”
“I’d like to see your stuff all over my house,” he said in a low, husky voice that carried the promise of hot nights and satin sheets.
She felt his words go straight to her heart. She wanted to be in his big bed—and not just for a few hours. But she had to see this job through first, as well as the chili cook-off, so she decided to lighten the moment. “That’s what you say now, but I can be messy.”
“No problem. We’ll get you an apron from the Chuckwagon Café.”