Christmas at Cardwell Ranch & Keeping Christmas by B.J. Daniels

Author:B.J. Daniels
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2013-10-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWO

CHANCE DROVE TO his cabin, Beauregard sitting next to him on the pickup’s bench seat, panting and drooling as he stared expectantly out at the blizzard.

On the seat between him and the dog was the manila envelope Beauregard Bonner had forced on him. Chance hadn’t opened it, had barely touched it—still didn’t want to.

Snow whirled through the air, blinding and hypnotic, the flakes growing larger and thicker as the storm settled in. He drove the road along the edge of the lake, getting only glimpses of the row of summer cabins boarded up for the season until he came to the narrow private road that led to his cabin.

His cabin was at the end of the road. He shifted into four-wheel drive, bucking the snow that had already filled the narrow road. Although mostly sheltered in pines, his cabin had one hell of a view of the lake. That’s why he’d picked the lot. For the view. And the isolation. There were no other cabins nearby. Just him and the lake and the pines stuck back into the mountainside.

He was still mentally kicking himself as he pulled up behind the cabin and cut the engine. He wasn’t sure who he was angrier at, himself or Beauregard Bonner. He couldn’t believe he’d taken the job. The last person on earth he wanted to work for was Bonner—not for any amount of money.

But Bonner, true to form, had found Chance’s weakness. And Chance had been forced to swallow his pride and his anger, and think only of how the outrageous amount of money Bonner was offering him would help take care of the medical bills.

Not that the whole thing hadn’t put him in a foul mood. And it being so close to Christmas, too.

He sat in the pickup, listening to the ticking of the engine as it cooled, taking a moment to just stare out at his cabin, the storm and what little he could see of the frozen white expanse of lake that stretched for miles.

Nothing settled him like this place. He’d built the cabin with his own hands, every log, every stone. His daughter had been born here on a night much like this one.

Beauregard pawed at his arm, no doubt wondering what the hold up was on that treat. “Sorry, boy.” Chance smiled as he reached over and rubbed the dog’s big furry head. Beauregard really was the ugliest dog Chance had ever seen. A big gangly thing, the dog was covered with a mottled mass of fur in every shade of brown. But those big brown eyes broke your heart. Two pleading big brown eyes that were now focused on him.

Chance had found him beside the road, starving and half dead. He’d seen himself in the dog—the mutt was the most pathetic thing Chance had ever laid eyes on. He’d worn no collar, had apparently been on his own for a long time, and hadn’t had the best disposition. Clearly they were two of a kind and meant to be together.

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