A Last Chance Christmas. Vicki Thompson Lewis

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СКАЧАТЬ data in her Excel file. The harmonica player was likely the guy Jack had mentioned was staying down the hall. His name was Ben something-or-other. He’d come to look at the ranch’s registered Paints and would be around for a couple of nights. Molly had offered to help out by making his bed and putting clean towels in his bathroom.

      Being alone upstairs with four empty bedrooms had been a little spooky. She was glad to share the space with someone, especially if he chose to serenade her every so often with Christmas carols on the harmonica. Hard to believe she’d be leaving in four days. The time had flown by.

      Although she’d love to stay and meet everyone who’d be coming in to spend Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, that would mean she’d miss the big Gallagher family celebration in Prescott. So far, she had a perfect record—twenty-eight consecutive holidays spent at the Double Down Ranch. Her parents ran it now that her grandparents were gone, and it was her favorite place in the world.

      “O Little Town of Bethlehem” came to a close with a long, drawn-out note embellished by some vibrato. Ben was pretty good on that thing. Then he switched away from carols to play the theme from Beauty and the Beast. She’d loved that movie from the first time she’d seen it as a little girl. Belle was the perfect heroine—pretty, brave and well-read.

      Plus she was a brunette, and Molly had been thrilled about that, too. The scholarly Belle had been her role model for years. She’d never heard the theme played on a harmonica before, but it worked. It worked so well that she left her chair and moved into the hall so she could hear it better.

      What a lovely sound. He really was talented. She moved a few steps closer and then a few steps more. He played with heart, and she could almost imagine him as the Beast longing for his Beauty to show up. That was plain silly, of course. The way her luck went, he’d be old as the hills, or middle-aged and balding.

      His bedroom door was open. As the music continued, she edged closer. Now that her curiosity was aroused, she wanted to find out what the man who created such a heavenly sound looked like. But she decided to wait until he’d finished the song. She liked it way too much to interrupt him, and if she suddenly appeared, he’d probably stop playing.

      The last note trailed away, and she walked up to the doorway, prepared with a little speech. “That was...” She forgot what she’d intended to say. Ben something-or-other was drop-dead gorgeous.

      Why hadn’t she brushed her hair before walking down here? Why hadn’t she checked to see if she had anything in her teeth? Why hadn’t she taken two measly seconds to glance in a mirror and find out if her glasses were smudged?

      Thinking of that, she whipped them off and cleared her throat. “I’m Molly Gallagher. I live down the hall.” What? “I mean, I’m sleeping down the hall. That is, my room’s...that way.” She actually pointed. Good God, now she was giving the beautiful man directions.

      His eyes were the color of dark chocolate, and they crinkled at the corners when he smiled. “Good to know.”

      Heat flooded her face. “I didn’t mean that as a...well, never mind. I don’t know why I said it. Mostly I wanted to tell you how much I like your harmonica. Your harmonica playing, that is.”

      “Thanks. I didn’t know anybody was up here. You were quiet as a mouse.”

      “Just nibbling away on my computer.” Her laugh sounded much too breathless, but he had such broad shoulders, and his dark hair curled gently around his ears in a very sexy way. She liked his chin, too, with its little cleft, and she adored his mouth. A harmonica player would be good with his mouth and his tongue. She’d never thought of that before.

      “I promise not to play in the middle of the night.”

      “I wouldn’t care.” And didn’t that sound like she’d become his adoring fangirl? She licked her dry lips. “Actually, I grew up hearing harmonica music. My grandpa would sometimes play me a lullaby before I went to sleep.”

      “That’s very sweet.”

      “It was more of a bribe. I always put up a fight about going to bed.” She had no idea where these idiotic remarks were coming from, but she couldn’t seem to make them stop.

      She’d prepared herself for some old geezer, probably because she associated harmonicas with her grandfather. Instead she’d found this amazing man, who couldn’t be much older than she was. He sat on the edge of a king-sized bed she’d personally made up earlier today. Her filter must be working a little bit, because at least she hadn’t blurted out that piece of information.

      “I’ll bet you did put up a fight about bedtime.” Amusement flashed in his brown eyes. “I’ll bet you were one feisty little girl.”

      “Jack would probably tell you I still am. I think he and Gabe are a little irritated with me.”

      “Why is that?”

      “Oh, there’s something I asked them to do and they’re both procrastinating. I’m leaving in four days so I gave them each a little nudge. I don’t think they appreciated it.”

      He seemed to be working hard not to laugh.

      “Did Jack mention that to you?”

      “Just in passing.”

      “It’s only two pages of information for my genealogy research. You’d think I’d asked him to write a book.”

      “Some people hate filling out forms.”

      She sighed. “I know. Everybody’s not detail oriented like I am. I should probably just sit down with each of them and do it interview style. I’ll text them and suggest that. I mean, if Jack’s complaining to you, a virtual stranger, I guess he really doesn’t want to do it.”

      “He didn’t complain all that much. Don’t quote me on this, but I think he plans to finish it soon.”

      “Then I’ll wait and see. He might be insulted if I offered to write it down for him, as if he’s not capable.”

      “I’ve only spent a little time with the guy, but I think you’re right.”

      Discussing this matter with Ben had been a good ice-breaker. He felt like a potential friend now. She was still ogling him a little, but she’d recovered from her first stunned reaction. “Sarah told me you were here to look at horses.”

      “That’s right.” Something flickered in his gaze the way it did when someone wasn’t telling the whole truth and nothing but the truth.

      She caught it because she’d thought all along that driving around looking at horses in this weather was strange. She couldn’t shake the suspicion that he was here for some other reason, but she couldn’t imagine what that would be. “Did you see any you might be interested in?”

      “I did, as a matter of fact. I really like the looks of Calamity Sam.”

      “Oh, yeah. Me, too. He’s one beautiful stallion. Pricey, though, since he gets pretty good stud fees.”

      “I know. Jack said maybe we could work something out.”

      So maybe he really was interested in buying one of the Last Chance horses. He might hope to get a better price by coming when СКАЧАТЬ