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His nostrils flared slightly in anger, but Boone managed to keep his temper in check. “I thought you would want to know it’s been confirmed. The Garners have moved onto the Cee Bar.”
“You’re certain of that?” Max demanded.
“Dallas arranged for the phone and utilities to the trailer to be turned off yesterday. Not a single possession was left in the trailer.”
Max folded his hands together in his lap and digested this piece of news. “It never occurred to me that Echohawk would move them onto the ranch with him.”
“I remember the Calders mentioning that Echohawk had a tendency to pick up strays.”
“It’s a pity you didn’t remember that before,” Max said in dry rebuke. “We could have anticipated the possibility if you had. Now it complicates things.”
“I know,” Boone agreed.
“We’ll have to find a way to use it to our advantage,” Max stated and shot a challenging look at his son. “What have you done about the hay?”
“Nothing yet.”
“Why not?” Max asked in harsh demand.
“There’s a new moon Sunday night,” Boone replied. “That’ll be the best time to take care of it.”
“See that you do.” Once again his hand was at the controls, sending the wheelchair toward the bank of elevators and leaving Boone standing there by himself.
Evergreen trees of varying heights and types were propped along the front of the grocery store, scenting the air with their pine smell. The minute he climbed out of the truck, Empty Garner walked over to survey the selection. Having just come from church, he was dressed in what he persisted in calling his Sunday-go-to-meeting clothes—a western-cut suit, a bolo tie, and a spotless black cowboy hat.
As Quint joined him, Empty pulled out a tree that stood about five feet tall. “This looks like a good one.”
Dallas veered away from the entrance when she noticed him inspecting the tree. “What are you doing, Empty?” She frowned.
“Exactly what it looks like,” he retorted with a trace of impatience. “I’m picking out a tree. It won’t be Christmas without one.”
She darted a hesitant glance at Quint. “But it isn’t our house, Empty,” she reminded him.
“You’re living in it. I think that makes it your house, too,” Quint replied with a smile. “And I agree with Empty. It won’t be Christmas without a tree.”
“In that case, I guess we’ll have a tree,” Dallas said with a faint sigh of concession. “But it means we’ll have to dig out those boxes with the tree stand and ornaments that we put in the barn.”
“We haven’t got anything better to do this afternoon, do we?” Empty countered in light challenge.
“I guess not.” This time she managed a smile. “You two pick out the tree while I get the milk and bread and other items we need. But don’t be long,” she warned. “Because I won’t.”
By late afternoon, the living room furniture had been rearranged to make a space for the tree. Six inches had been trimmed off the trunk to accommodate the room’s low ceiling and the additional height the metal stand gave it.
It stood proudly in the corner, ready to be trimmed. Boxes of ornaments were scattered about the room. With one string of lights untangled, Empty was busy working on the second.
Quint sat on the floor, patiently searching for the burnt-out bulb or bulbs on a third string of multicolored lights plugged into the wall socket. From the kitchen came the sharp patter of corn popping.
The instant Quint switched out one bulb, the entire string lit up. “Found it.”
“At least we got two strands that work now—maybe three if I ever get this one unsnarled,” Empty muttered as he tugged loose another knot.
“Want some help?” Quint unplugged the light string and stood up.
Empty was on the verge of accepting his offer when the telephone rang. “You need to answer that. I can manage.”
Quint slipped into the popcorn-scented kitchen and picked up the old rotary-style phone that sat on the oak desk, sliding a glance at Dallas as she emptied a pan of freshly popped corn into a large earthenware bowl.
“Cee Bar Ranch.” The words had become automatic to him.
