Daisies in the Canyon Read Online Free PDF

was a full-fledged cowboy, in a mustard-colored work coat, a black cowboy hat shading his brown eyes, scuffed-up work boots, and a plaid shirt showing beneath his coat.
    Her eyes met his and the same feeling she’d gotten at the dinner table came rushing back. If all the sparks flittering around inside her were set loose, the bare trees surrounding the cemetery would go up in flames.
    “I’m not so sure I’m even interested in answers. What are you doing here?” she asked.
    “Hiram, the guy who owns the funeral home, left one of the tent poles. I told him I’d pick it up and bring it into town tomorrow. What are you doing here? Is that butterscotch I smell?” He took a couple of steps closer to her.
    She crammed her hands deeper into her pockets to keep from reaching across the short distance separating them and brushing away that little bit of white sleet sticking to his facial hair.
    “I’m making a mental list of everything I want to fix or change if this place is mine and yes, it’s butterscotch. Do you want one?” She held out her hand with one in it.
    “No, thank you. I’m plenty full from dinner. Where are your two sisters?”
    “I wouldn’t know where they are. Probably unpacking or filing their fingernails,” she answered.
    “Sounds like you don’t like them too much.”
    She removed her ski mask and with her fingertips combed blonde hair full of static back away from her face. “Don’t know if I like them or not. We are all strangers who will share quarters until one by one we get tired of this shit and leave. I don’t see either of them lasting a month.”
    “That youngest one seems pretty determined.”
    Her right shoulder popped up slightly. “Right now, she does. But I hear that ranchin’ is hard business.”
    He bent from the waist and petted the dog. “I see you’ve made one friend.”
    “Maybe,” she said. “Could be that she’d follow anyone around the ranch, not just me. Maybe she’s lonely since Ezra died.”
    He rose and nodded. “I imagine so. He did love his dogs. You said that ranchin’ isn’t easy. How do you know that? Weren’t you in the army for the last decade? How would you know anything about how hard ranchin’ is? Or about life on the outside anyway?”
    “Yes, I was in the army. The rest is need to know.”
    Cooper chuckled. “Well, maybe someday I’ll get upgraded to that level of classification, Sergeant Malloy. Looks like you’ve got a bodyguard there whether you want one or not.”
    “She wanted inside the cemetery, so I opened the gate. I expect she’ll go on back home now,” Abby said.
    His arm grazed hers as he headed toward the tent pole, and there it was again. Sparks. Sizzle. Steam. It was a wonder that it didn’t create a warm fog right there beside Ezra’s grave.
    He retracted the pole until it was only about four feet long and headed out of the cemetery. She looked for a truck, berating herself for letting anyone sneak up on her like that. In the war zone, it could have meant instant death. His whistling grew fainter as he disappeared behind a herd of cattle. So he liked to walk, too, did he? But wait, how did he know she was a sergeant? She looked at the patches on the sleeve of her jacket, smiled, and put the ski mask back on. If he knew that much about the army, maybe someday he would get his classification moved up a notch.
    When she finished her walk, with the dog right beside her the whole way, she sat down on the porch for a few minutes but the cold began to seep in so she went on inside the house. Shiloh was in the living room, curled up on the sofa with a thick romance book in her hands. The cover picture was a half-naked cowboy, and although Abby shared her taste in books, her half sister was crazy as bat shit if she thought she could learn about ranching by reading about hunky cowboys.
    Abby made a trip through the kitchen, opened the refrigerator door, and took out the chicken and potato salad. It wasn’t really suppertime