Holiday in Stone Creek Read Online Free

lonelier than usual.
    She braked for the stop sign, looked both ways. No cars coming, but she didn't pull out right away. The vibe hit her before she could shift out of neutral and hit the gas.
    "Oh, no," she said aloud.
    Ginger, busy surveying the snowy countryside, offered no comment.
    "Did you hear that?" Olivia persisted.
    Ginger turned to look at her. Gave a little yip. Today, evidently, she was pretending to be an ordinary dog--as if any dog was ordinary--incapable of intelligent conversation.
    The call was coming from the ancient barn on the Starcross property.
    Olivia took a moment to rest her forehead on the cold steering wheel. She'd known Brad's friend the big-timecontractor was moving in, of course, and she'd seen at least one moving truck, but she hadn't known there were any animals involved.
    "I could ignore this," she said to Ginger.
    "Or not," Ginger answered.
    "Oh, hell," Olivia said. Then she signaled for a left turn--Stone Creek was in the other direction--and headed for the decrepit old gate marking the entrance to Starcross Ranch.
    The gate stood wide open. No sheep or cattle then, probably, Olivia reasoned. Even greenhorns knew livestock tended to stray at every opportunity. Still, some kind of critter was sending out a psychic SOS from that pitiful barn.
    They bumped up the rutted driveway, fishtailing a little on the slick snow and the layer of ice underneath, and Olivia tooted her horn. A spiffy new red pickup stood in front of the house, looking way too fancy for the neighborhood, but nobody appeared to see who was honking.
    Muttering, Olivia brought the Suburban to a rattling stop in front of the barn, got out and shut the door hard.
    "Hello?" she called.
    No answer. Not from a human being, anyway.
    The animal inside the barn amped up the psychic summons.
    Olivia sprinted toward the barn door, glancing upward once at the sagging roof as she entered, with some trepidation. The place ought to be condemned. "Hello?" she repeated.
    It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dimmer light, since the weather was dazzle-bright, though cold enough to crystallize her bone marrow.
    "Over here," said a silent voice, deep and distinctly male.
    Olivia ventured deeper into the shadows. The ruins of a dozen once-sturdy stalls lined the sawdust-and-straw aisle. She found two at the very back, showing fresh-lumber signs of recent restoration efforts.
    A tall palomino regarded her from the stall on the right, tossed his head as if to indicate the one opposite.
    Olivia went to that stall and looked over the half gate to see a small, yellowish-white pony gazing up at her in befuddled sorrow. The horse lay forlornly in fresh wood shavings, its legs folded underneath.
    Although she was technically trespassing, Olivia couldn't resist unlatching the gate and slipping inside. She crouched beside the pony, stroked its nose, patted its neck, gave its forelock an affectionate tug.
    "Hey, there," she said softly. "What's all the fuss about?"
    A slight shudder went through the little horse.
    "She misses Sophie," the palomino said, from across the aisle.
    Wondering who Sophie was, Olivia examined the pony while continuing to pet her. The animal was sound, well fed and well cared for in general.
    The palomino nickered loudly, and that should have been a cue, but Olivia was too focused on the pony to pay attention.
    "Who are you and what the hell are you doing sneaking around in my barn?" demanded a low, no-nonsense voice.
    Olivia whirled, and toppled backward into the straw. Looked up to see a dark-haired man glowering down at her from over the stall gate. His eyes matched his blue denim jacket, and his Western hat looked a little too new.
    "Who's Sophie?" she asked, getting to her feet, dusting bits of straw off her jeans.
    He merely folded his arms and glared. He'd asked the first question and, apparently, he intended to have the first answer. From the set of his broad shoulders, she guessed he'd wait for it until hell froze