A Cowboy For Christmas (A Copper Mountain Christmas) Read Online Free PDF Page B

snow, and some ice. The old barn looked as if it had seen better days and needed to be re-stained. One of the doors hung off its hinges.
    Looking at the house gave her a sort of tingling in the bottom of her stomach. Not excitement, but just a project that needed her. La Terre De Reves was in worse shape than she was and she wanted to fix the old homestead. She also knew that with enough time, which to be honest she had plenty of now, she could make it a home.
    She got out of the car and watched Rumple climb down and head to the weed-ridden flowerbed to relieve himself as she grabbed her large leather Coach bag, which she ’d had the good sense to leave with a friend when she went to collect the rest of her belongings.
    When her husband had been arrested and indicted for fraud eighteen months earlier, she ’d lost everything. She’d divorced Davis and done her best to survive. But there was nothing left for her in Manhattan as even her so-called friends had cut ties to avoid being tainted by the scandal.
    It was so quiet here in the valley, no honking horns or rumbling subways. Instead just the quiet of the valley and the magic of the distant snow-capped Copper Mountain. She remembered how this valley had nurtured her as a child and realized that was why she’d come back. She needed to find her center again and hoped that this place could work its magic once again.
    As she walked up the stone path, she remembered watching her father lay the river stones. She unlocked the door to the house, and Rumple ambled up beside her and flopped down at her feet as if he’d exerted all his energy just to make it to the door.
    “ I’m feeling ya, buddy,” she said, as she stepped over the threshold and held the door open until the dog followed her inside. A waft of stale air and the oddly sweet smell of her father’s cigars surrounded her. She reached into the bag and got out the apple cinnamon plug-ins she’d purchased in town, popping one into the outlet near the front door.
    Already it was starting to smell more homey. She went back out to the car and slowly brought in all her purchases. She hung the wreath on the front door and then decided to call her sister again. The call went to voicemail.
    “ It’s just Annie again. Please call me back. I’d love to get together and catch up. I’m sorry I let so much time go by.”
    She hung up and looked around the house. She had big plans to start redoing it but now it seemed overwhelming. She piled all her supplies, the two cans of paint, and some drop cloths in the dining room. She remembered there were paint brushes and rollers in the garage and went out to find them.
    Rumple wandered off and she glanced around the house with its worn furnishings and layer of dust. She wished now that she’d let Davis buy new furniture for the place, but her intent in buying it from her sisters was to get them to stop bugging her to come home.
    The sound of her boots on the tile floor echoed as she walked through the house to the garage. It was dark and cold and she fumbled for the light switch, knocking over a box in the process.
    The light came on and she glanced at the floor where the box she ’d knocked off had fallen on its side. She bent to pick it all up and froze as she noticed what was there. Christmas past stared her in the face. An ornament she had made at Brownies. A family portrait stuck in the middle of a green and red bread-dough wreath.
    She held it loosely as her heart caught in her throat. She traced the wreath, feeling the rough texture of the dough where she hadn’t kneaded it enough to get it smooth. They had been such a happy family back then. Her dad wore his Sunday shirt and “good” Stetson, her mom smiling over at him and her sisters all healthy and whole. She wanted that again.
    But all she had was this empty house. She pushed the other items into the box and closed the lid, setting it aside. She shoved the ornament into the pocket of her jacket and went to gather