Caribou Crossing Read Online Free PDF Page A

cassette, and hand warmers to go inside his gloves when he took hay to the livestock and mended fences.
    They all trailed downstairs in pajamas, robes, and slippers to eat a Christmas breakfast of pancakes and bacon. Then it was present time, in the front room. While her husband got the fire going, Miriam put her new Willie Nelson tape in the cassette deck and Jessica plugged in the lights on the Christmas tree.
    Bly family tradition was to put up the tree on Christmas Eve. Yesterday, Wade had cut the tree on their own—my God, she still couldn’t believe Bly Ranch was theirs!—property, a perfectly shaped Douglas fir that reached the ceiling and filled the room with a green, outdoorsy scent. They’d decorated it after dinner, stringing chains of popcorn and cranberries and hanging the ornaments they’d accumulated over the years, with the best display space going to ones Jessica had made at school. This year’s were pictures of horses cut out of magazines that she’d mounted on cardboard and decorated with glitter. Miriam had snapped photos all evening, and this morning had her camera ready for the present unwrapping.
    Under the tree were their own gifts to each other, together with presents from Wade’s parents and other relatives and friends. Miriam and Wade sat side by side on the couch, with Jessica delivering wrapped packages, then crouching on the hearth to open her own.
    Most of the gifts were practical: pretty new sweaters and scarves, new cowboy boots for the ever-growing Jessica, a cookbook for Miriam. But she’d also scrimped to buy Wade the binoculars he’d been wanting, and she discovered that the gorgeous silver-wrapped box contained a skimpy lacy negligee.
    â€œMommy,” Jessica said critically, “that nightie’s not going to keep you warm.”
    â€œYou’re right,” she said, “but it’s the thought that counts.” She tossed her husband a wink, very much appreciating that thought. Even though they’d been married eight years, Wade still made the occasional romantic gesture, letting her know he found her attractive and sexy.
    Jessica unwrapped a children’s book about raising a foal, a present from Grandma and Grandpa Bly, who knew what Wade and Miriam had planned. But it wasn’t until she opened the final gift, a miniature halter—just the right size for a foal—that her mouth opened and she stared at her parents. “Who’s this for?”
    Miriam squeezed Wade’s hand. “You tell her.”
    â€œYour first horse, Jessie,” he said. “We’re giving you Whisper’s foal.” The mare, one of the Bly Ranch horses, was a dark dapple gray, in foal to a midnight black stallion named Rapscallion. Miriam and Wade figured that raising a foal would be a great exercise in responsibility for their horse-crazy daughter.
    Jessica gave an earsplitting screech as she sprang from the hearth and rushed over to throw her arms around her parents. “Can I go see Whisper now? I want to tell her.”
    â€œSure,” Wade said. “And you can feed and water the horses while you’re out there.”
    Their daughter ran off, abandoning the pile of gifts and wrapping paper.
    â€œWe made our girl happy,” Wade said contentedly.
    â€œWe did. I only hope she’s half as excited when she learns she’s going to have a baby brother or sister.”
    He chuckled. “I’m excited. Does that count?” He pulled her into the curve of his arm. “When do you want to tell people, hon?”
    â€œAfter the new year? Right now, I kind of like it being just between the two of us.”
    â€œSounds good to me.”
    She snuggled close. God, how she loved this man and their life together. But it would be a busy day—everything a pleasure, but still involving effort—so she separated herself again and rose. “Better get going. Loads to do before we head into