Page 31 of Must Love Mistletoe

Neither Cal nor Sam needed telling twice.

*

Half an hourlater, Cal and elderly rancher Jim stood watching as Sam roughhoused in the barn with a pup with elephant-sized feet. The pup was a joyful clown, as far as Cal could tell, and the bitch seemed more German Shepherd in temperament than herding dog and had yet to leave old Jim’s side. Hardly the kind of dogs Cal needed, either of them.

“Whip smart and stick shy, the pair of them,” Jim said cheerfully. “They’ve taken a beating somewhere along the way.”

Cal rested his hand on the bitch’s head and stroked an ear. Her tongue came out and she gave his wrist a quick lick before resuming her careful survey of boy and pup. “Hey, Sam, clip the pup to the horse-lead over there and run toward us, okay? Tell the pup to stay.”

The pup protested as they’d all known he would, and the bitch watched, ears pricked, but she didn’t break her sit, and Sam had more sense than to race up to her, slowing to a walk before he reached them, and then keeping his distance.

“I’ve been calling this one Mama,” said Jim. “Just put your hand out to her so she can have a sniff.”

“What kind of a name’s that?” Cal grumbled.

“More of a description,” Jim said. “Once you take ’em, call ’em what you want.”

“Are you gonna take ’em both?” Sam asked, offering his hand for the…Mama… nope couldn’t do it… for the Germanshepherd mix to sniff. Sam’s hand got a lick, too, and the dog’s tail swept the floor of the barn. She still hadn’t broken that sit.

“Here, Tink. Tinkerbell. Belle,” Sam coaxed, singsong fashion, and two grown men winced. “Here, Bones. Bony. Bo.”

Thankfully, the kid didn’t suggest Bozo. Names mattered. Names came withexpectations. For example, her dull, sparse coat might one day be a shiny chestnut color. “Try Chess. Chessie.”

Chessie Casey, dear Lord, shoot him now.

“Chess,” Sam coaxed. “Chessie, come. Heel!”

The boy turned on his heel and set off swiftly toward the barn door and damned if that dog didn’t follow immediately to heel, keeping pace perfectly when Sam slowed or sped up or turned this way and that.

“Did you teach her that?” Cal asked Jim.

“Nope.” Jim smirked. “Might have to charge you twice what I was going to, seeing as she’s already a trained protection dog.”

“Uh-huh.” Cal knew the old man too well. “What were you planning on charging me in the first place?”

“A dollar. Can’t have her thinking she’s worthless.”

A man after his own heart. “Two dollars ninety-nine and keep the change. That’s my final offer.”

“Done, and I don’t think you’ll be disappointed. That’s a good dog—she’s just too smart and too dominant for my lot and she’s looking for that one person to love.” Sam and the dog were back and this time it was the pup who sat in silence, watching them intently from afar. “Of course, there’s not many who’d happily take on both the bitch and the pup. Bout time they got separated, anyway.”

You wily old coot, Cal thought.

Sam was right there listening and what was a man to say?Yes, I’ll take the bitch but someone else would have to take the pup?What kind of message wasthat? “I’ll take both.”

Jim had the hide to belly laugh. “Like shooting fish in a barrel.”

“Yeah, yeah. How much, old man?”

“That’ll be five bucks for the pup. And a bottle of Kentucky whiskey.”

“What? No way that pup’s worth more than a… what was it? A trained protection dog!”

“Five bucks,” the old man said implacably. “For the pup.”

“I’ve got five bucks,” Sam said eagerly.

“Well, Iwouldtake your money,” Jim said, “but I’m already committed to this other sale. A man has to stick to his word.”

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