Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 74968 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74968 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
“Not telling, but I better crochet faster.” She waggled her eyebrows. I counted her obvious pleasure as another success for my Secret Santa project. “Month’s getting away from us all.”
December was indeed moving along at a too-fast clip, the holiday and wedding both bearing down on us. However, at the bunkhouse, the more pressing concern was dinner and Grayson’s absence. Casey made the call to start without him, but I kept glancing at the side door.
“Wow. This is amazing.” Kat dug into her bowl of chicken and dumplings. Even in my distraction, I had to nod because Casey was outdoing himself lately with tasty offerings.
“Thank my Secret Santa.” Casey offered a shy grin. “A new cookbook appeared right before grocery day.”
“That’s handy.” Chips kept his eyes squarely on his bowl, but I didn’t miss the sly smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“There’s a nice-looking beefy queso recipe in the book too.” Casey’s good mood was infectious, and the whole table seemed lighter tonight, even friendlier than usual. “Thought that might be nice for when we decorate the tree.”
“What tree?” Grayson appeared in the doorway, stamping off his boots.
“You’re late. Grab a bowl.” Casey indicated the stack next to the pot of chicken and dumplings. “And the bunkhouse tree decorating thing. Maverick said he’s getting trees for the main house and bunkhouse. Adler’s making cookies. Thought you knew.”
Grayson gave me an impossible-to-miss pointed look. “Must have forgot.”
“What are we using for decorations for the tree anyway?” Reindeer asked as he helped himself to more food.
“I nabbed some lights on sale, and we’re going old-fashioned with homemade decorations.” I carefully didn’t glance in Grayson’s direction as I gestured with my hands. “Casey’s doing some salt dough shapes, and we’ll have other craft options.”
“Sounds like summer camp.” Motley pursed his lips. I didn’t need to look over at Grayson to know he was likely nodding. Let them scoff. My plan was a good one.
“It’s good practice for when we have guests.” I kept my voice patient. “This is the sort of thing folks would love to be a part of.”
“Chow’s decent, Casey.” Grayson’s tone said he was done talking about tree decorating. A prickle raced up my spine. I had a feeling I’d hear his real opinion later.
“There’s fudge for dessert, thanks to Reindeer’s Secret Santa.” Casey pointed at a platter on the counter near the massive bunkhouse fridge.
“It’s more than I can eat alone.” A pink flush spread across Reindeer’s cheeks.
“You complaining?” Motley glared at him, and I had to suppress a laugh.
“Nah.” Reindeer waved his fork. “Nice of Adler to set up the Secret Santa exchange. Kinda fun.”
A murmur of agreement swept around the table, and I beamed.
“See? The start of another new tradition.” Happiness bubbled in my chest, a feeling that lasted through cleanup. Grayson ducked out with the trash before I could ask if he needed help with the dogs tonight. Needing a quick excuse, I grabbed the bathroom trash and headed for the coat rack to grab my jacket.
However, a black cowboy hat sat on my hook, blocking access to my coat.
“What’s this?” I held up the hat, spinning it on my index finger. “Whose hat is on my hook?”
“Not mine.” Reindeer strode over to peer at the hat. “Looks new.”
“Got a name on the tag?” Motley asked in a bored tone. I flipped the hat over to see a little white tag inside the brim where a person might put a name and phone number if the hat were lost. My name was written in blocky letters.
“It says my name.” I couldn’t keep the wonder out of my voice.
“Seems like your Secret Santa got tired of your beanie collection.” Kat chuckled. “Not that there’s anything wrong with handknits.”
“But I didn’t…” I trailed off because now would be the worst time to reveal that I hadn’t put my own name in the Secret Santa bag. Instead, I glanced around like my Secret Santa might be nearby. “Thanks.”
I knew exactly who to really thank, though, but when I finally made it outside, Grayson was nowhere to be seen. My thank you might have to wait, but he wasn’t getting away with this sneaky gesture.
Chapter Twenty-One
Grayson
“How are the patients?” Adler strode into my trailer as if he lived here. Which he most assuredly did not, despite coming by more evenings than not since Thanksgiving. Tonight, he wore his new cowboy hat, which fit as perfectly as I’d expected. In fact, he hadn’t been without the darn thing since I’d snuck it onto his hook.
The dogs were all over him before he could get his hat and coat off. So much for resting after their spaying earlier in the week.
“Pretty much back to normal, exactly how Jude predicted.” Other than the neck cones to prevent them from messing with the stitches, they were as bouncy as ever. They danced around as Adler revealed a bag of treats from one coat pocket. I groaned. “See you brought them extra treats anyway.”