Page 2 of Stella's Christmas Rescue
Dirty, dirty thoughts.
She calls me Sugar and tells me toget in here,she better hang on.
The tiny female with the big lungs slams her hands on the rail and whirls around. I stuff the grin.
Sparks fly from those oversized bright blue eyes of hers. “I bet they're together.”
“Yours wouldn’t be a girl, would it?”
The corner of her mouth pinches upward. It’s almost a smirk, but she seems too ladylike to smirk. “Sugar is a girl, yes. A yellow lab, actually. I’m worried she’ll be stuck out all night again, and it’s supposed to get well below freezing tonight.”
“My black and tan hunting mutt likes to visit Hanson because he spoils him with scraps. I thought he might be here, chowing down on some leftovers. I’ll bet they met up here and ran offtogether. Would you like to come with me to look for them? It gets damn dark in these woods, and I’d hate for you to get lost.”
“What makes you think I’d get lost? You think I can’t handle myself?”
Oh, hell. A feminist. But then, I see the teasing in her eyes. “I think you can handle whatever you’d like to. But I also know I’d prefer not to be in these woods alone at night, and I’m six-three, two-forty. You are…” I look her over, “Not.”
The teasing in her eyes becomes a hearty laugh, “God, you weigh a hundred pounds more than I do.”
I shrug. “Played a lot of football. So, do you wanna head out with me?”
“Sure. Let me get my coat. And I think you probably don’t need a shotgun with little old me.”
I laugh while she suits up. “Old? You can’t be more than twenty-two.”
“I’m twenty-seven. And I’m Stella Collins, by the way.” She’s ready and turns on a new alarm, then locks up.
We pile into my truck and drive down the road a ways. She smells incredible, like birthday cake and jasmine. It’s intoxicating. But I need to stay focused. “So, what are you doing at Mr. Hanson’s anyway? And where is he? I know for a fact he doesn’t like security alarms.”
“I’m sorry, I know you said you’re a friend of his, and there’s no good way to say it, but Mr. Hanson had to go to a care facility a couple days ago. He stopped being able to get around well enough to be on his own. I was hired by his son to watch over the farm for a year, so he could finish his deployment.”
I run my fingers through my shaggy brown hair. I have never gotten used to having hair after twenty years in the Marines, so it’s still a novelty. “Thanks for telling me. A shame about him, but I get it. How’d his son get a hold of you? Are you a friend of his or something?”
“Royce and I go way back,” she lies.
Why did she lie about that? “How’d you meet?”
“At a club in Nashville, before he left.”
“That where you’re from?”
“Yes. How about yourself?”
I shrug, “Around. I moved a lot when I was in the Marines, and before that, I grew up as a Marine Corps brat, so I don’t really claim a hometown. But Floyd is pretty great, as small towns go. You been to the diner yet?”
She nods, “They have really good corned beef hash.”
I chuckle and point out, “I thought you might have been one of those women who eat salads, a vegan or something.”
“I like a good salad, now and then,” she admitted. “But I like meat.”
Hope so. I slow the truck near Miller Road. “Huh. Well, the last time I found Max, he was down this road here. I think it’s his hang out, when he’s not mooching scraps off our neighbors. The end of the road is near Hanson’s farm, so maybe that’s where they both are. Come on.”
“What do you mean, come on? Why aren’t we driving it?”
“Because it’s really just a footpath. No truck will fit down it. Don’t worry, I’ll keep you safe.” I grab my shotgun and a snub-nosed pistol from the glove box. “You know how to handle one of these?”
“No.”
