Page 93 of A Cozy Christmas Blizzard
Slade set the tree in the holder, dragged it through the front door and stood it in the corner. “The snow’s stopped,” he told her when she carried in their meal.
“That’s encouraging. I was beginning to think we’d be forced to stay until the spring thaw.” Of course, she wouldn’t have minded, and her smile was wistful.
Sitting cross-legged in front of the fireplace, their backs resting against the sofa, they dug into the sandwiches. But she found herself giving most of hers to Ol’ Dan, having discovered that she had little appetite. Never had she been more aware of a man. They were so close that, when she lowered her sandwich to the plate, her upper arm brushed against his. But neither one of them made any effort to move, and she found that the contact, although impersonal, was soothing. She paused, trying to capture this moment of peacefulness.
“This has been a good day,” he murmured, his gaze following hers as he stared out the living room window.
“It’s certainly been crazy.”
Without replying immediately, he reached for her hand, entwining their fingers. “I don’t know when I’ve enjoyed a day more.” His dark gaze flickered over her and rested on her mouth. Abruptly he glanced away, his attention on the piano at the far side of the room. “Do you play?”
She sighed expressively. “A little. Dad claimed that my playing was what kept the mice out of the house.”
He raised one dark brow with a touch of amusement. “That bad?”
“See for yourself.” She rose and walked to the piano, lifted the lid of the bench seat and extracted some Christmas music.
When she pressed her fingers to the keys, the discordant notes were enough to make her wince, and cause Ol’ Dan to lift his chin and cock his head curiously. He howled once.
“I told you I wasn’t any good,” she said with another dramatic sigh. Staring at the music, she squinted and sadly shook her head.
Slade joined her. Standing directly behind her, he laid his hands on her shoulders, leaning over to study the music.
“I think I may have found the problem,” she stated seriously. Dimples formed in her cheeks as she tried not to smile. Turning the sheet music right side up, she leaned forward to study the notes a second time and tried again. This time a sweet melody flowed through the house.
Chuckling, Slade tightened his hands around her shoulders and spontaneously lowered his mouth to her cheek. “Have I told you how much fun you are?”
“No, but I’ll accept that as a compliment.”
“Good, because it was meant as one.”
She continued to play, hitting a wrong note every once in a while and going back to repeat the bar until she got it right. Soon his rich voice blended with the melody. Her soprano tones mixed smoothly with his, although her playing faltered now and again.
Neither of them heard the front door open. “Merry Christmas Eve,” Don announced.
Shelly froze with her hands above the keys and turned to look at him. “Welcome home. How’s the Adlers’ horse?”
Her father wiped a weary hand over his face. “She’ll make it.”
“What about you?” He was clearly exhausted. His pants were caked with mud and grit.
“Give me half an hour and I’ll let you know.”
“I can make you a sandwich if you’re hungry.”
“All I want right now is a hot shower.” He paused to scratch Ol’ Dan’s ears. “Keep playing. You two sound good together.”
“I thought we were scattering the mice to the barn,” Slade teased.
Don scratched the side of his head with his index finger. “Say that again?”
“He’s talking about my piano playing,” she reminded her father.
“Oh, that. I don’t suppose you play?”
“As a matter of fact, I do,” Slade admitted.
“You do?” Shelly was stunned. “Why didn’t you say something earlier? Here.” She slid off the bench. “Trade places.”
