A Cowboy Under My Christmas Tree (20 page)

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Authors: Janet Dailey

BOOK: A Cowboy Under My Christmas Tree
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She moved over to one of the papered-over windows and called Sam.
“Ready to go hunting again?” she asked.
“Yeah. I’m at the deli, picking up sandwiches for the guys at the lot right now—you want anything?”
“No. Thanks, though.”
“After I drop them off, I’m a free man. Did you rent a car?”
“CarGo had a truck available,” she said happily. “It’s at the garage around the corner. You’ll probably get there before me.”
He spoke to someone at his end, then came back on. “What did you say?”
“I rented a pickup truck.”
There was a pause. “What if we don’t find a moon?”
“I did already,” she said. “But I haven’t seen it yet. I asked around and someone I know at a different warehouse e-mailed me last night. Getting back to the truck, I can put you on the insurance for a day with one phone call. Want to do the driving?”
“Sure.”
“What’s your driver’s license number so they can verify you?”
“Hang on.” She heard the sounds of a paper bag being set down. “I don’t have it memorized. I’ll text it to you, okay?”
“Okay. Meet me at the garage.”
She hung up and called CarGo and took care of business, then checked in with an old pal at the warehouse.
“Hi, Joey. It’s Nicole. I’ll be there in about an hour. Is anyone else interested in that moon?”
The answer was a growling laugh. “Nah. Ya kidding me? Come get it.”
“It’s big, right?”
“Hell, yeah. As in way too big. I wanna get rid of it. Ya got someone ta help ya move it? I’m shorthanded today.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Just go round to da back part of the warehouse. Where I stick the stuff I can’t sell.”
“Thanks, Joey. See you soon.”
 
 
Sam was waiting at the garage, finishing his sandwich as she approached the open entrance. He tossed the foil wrapping into a can and waved to her. “I’m here. I don’t see a pickup, though. ”
Nicole held up a plastic card with the CarGo logo. “It’s here. The attendant will bring it. This unlocks it and charges the rental to me automatically. ”
“How about that.”
An attendant in black pants and white shirt with a bowtie came running. “Hello, miss.” He took the card from Nicole. “Which one?”
“The blue pickup truck, please,” she told him.
Sam stood with her, listening to the sound of the giant elevator that brought vehicles up and down inside the garage building. “How did the morning meeting go?”
“I learned a fair amount about how the store operates. The finished windows will tie into smaller in-store displays, but we aren’t creating those. Just the big picture, so to speak.”
“Nervous?”
Nicole managed a very small smile. “A little. But once I start working, I pretty much forget about everything besides getting it done.” She looked up at him and her smile got wider and warmer. “I’m glad you’re going to be there.”
Sam didn’t get a chance to reply. The elevator door rolled up and a shiny blue pickup rolled out. The attendant drove toward them, threw it into park, and jumped out, leaving the engine running. He handed the plastic card back to Nicole and she tipped him a dollar, then walked around to the passenger side.
“Key’s in it,” she told Sam.
“Ready to roll?”
She took a length of coiled rope out of her purse and slipped it over her wrist. “Yes. We’ll need this when we get there.”
“Is it long enough? I never tied down a moon before.”
“It’s thirty feet. The moon’s only five feet high.”
“That oughta do it.” Sam pulled the driver’s side door open all the way and swung himself up into the seat.
He looked at the odometer. “Under a thousand miles—this is new. Great.” He looked down at the gearshift. “Automatic. Okay.”
They drove off. Sam had liked being in a car again, but he felt right at home in the truck. The narrow streets weren’t that bad—you just had to go slow a lot of the time, that was all. Nicole gave him directions, and it wasn’t long before they were going over the Queensboro Bridge. The pickup’s high cab gave him an even better view this time.
“Lots of bridges,” he commented, noticing the spans over the East River.
“The Brooklyn Bridge is my fave. Look way down.”
He barely caught a glimpse of the famous structure as she told him to change lanes.
“I’ll get you out to Brooklyn,” she assured him. “Whole different world, not like Manhattan. You’d like it.”
“You’re on. What’s that tall building back there?” he asked, looking in the rearview mirror. “On your right, by the river. Actually, it’s a tall one and a short one together. I know I’ve seen both.”
She rolled down her window and glanced back.
“That’s the United Nations,” she said. “The park around it is really nice, and there’s a huge rose garden. No roses now, though.”
He looked over at her. “The wind just put them in your cheeks, that’s why. Did I tell you today how beautiful you are?”
Nicole rolled up her window. Her cheeks glowed even brighter as she shook her head. “No. And thank you. I won’t be when I’m covered with blue paint and glue.”
“That oughta be interesting.” He laughed.
“Wait until you see me.” She changed the subject. “Are you ready for Joey Traverso? He’s as New York as it gets.”
“You bet.”
 
 
Joey Traverso turned out to be a thickset guy in his late fifties with a Mets ball cap and a laugh like a bear, if bears laughed. His dark eyes were set in friendly wrinkles, and his gap-toothed grin when he saw Nicole made it clear he’d known her for a while.
“Nicky! How are ya?” Joey gave her a hug.
“I’m fine. Working hard.”
“Good, good. That’s good.” Joey turned to look at Sam. “Who’s this guy?”
“Sam Bennett. He’s a friend of mine,” she answered quickly.
“That’s nice. From around here?”
By now, Sam knew that the other man meant the five boroughs of the city. There was no “here” beyond the Hudson River to real New Yorkers.
“No. Sam’s from Colorado.”
“Oh. I get it. Da West,” Traverso said.
“That’s right,” Sam said. “Last time I looked at a map, Colorado was definitely to the west.”
Joey hooted with laughter. “Funny. Ya like a cowboy or what? I like da hat.”
Sam tipped his Stetson to him. “Howdy. Did I say that right?”
“Ya did,” Joey replied solemnly. “Ya know, I used to watch shoot-’em-ups when I was a kid.
Gunsmoke
and
Bonanza
were my favorites. The Cartwrights coulda been from Brooklyn. They hung tough.”
“Great shows,” Sam agreed.
Nicole was looking at both of them as if she had no idea what they were talking about.
“Before your time,” Sam said to her. “But you can watch both on Colorado cable.”
“Oh.”
A cell phone in Joey’s pocket began to buzz. He took it out and peered at the screen. “Eh. That’s Ed Fox. Big movie man. He drives me crazy, but—aha. The shooting permit musta come through. Gotta stay on this one.”
He read the text and then called Fox back, while Nicole and Sam looked into the dark, cavernous warehouse.
“Yo, Ed,” the thickset man said. “Yeah, this is Joey. Who else, your mother?”
A rapid-fire response from Ed followed.
Covering the phone with his palm, Joey spoke to Nicole.
“Ed never shuts up,” he said to her. “I gotta pay attention. But ya know where the moon is. If ya wannit, take it. Don’t thank me. G’wan, get outta here. I’ll send ya a bill. But don’t be a stranger. Nice to meetcha, Sam.”
He extended a meaty hand.
“Same here.” Sam shook. “Thanks for your help, Mr. Traverso.”
Joey put the phone to his ear but spoke to Sam. “For Nicole, anything. She says jump, you ask how high. Ya unnerstand?”
“Yes, I do.”
Nicole led Sam away, hiding a smile. “I didn’t know Joey thought that highly of me,” she said.
Sam chuckled. “I consider myself warned. So where’s the moon?”
It was late enough in the day that he wouldn’t have been surprised to see one rising over the distant skyline of Manhattan.
Nicole took him by the hand and led him into the depths of the Traverso Bros. Warehouse.
They found the moon behind a vintage Texaco star.
Nicole looked at it with shining eyes. “Unreal. That’s exactly what I wanted. It’s part of an old sign.”
Sam pushed the old gas station star a few feet away from the moon. It was nothing more than a flat, round sheet of unpainted metal with a four-inch rim, about five feet high. It looked like junk to him. The surface was dinged, as if someone had thrown a baseball against it for about twenty years. There was a noticeable amount of surface corrosion, what with the pits and streaks and whitish discoloration.
“Don’t you think it’s beautiful?”
“You want my honest opinion? No,” Sam replied.
“Wait until I paint it silver,” she argued. “It’ll look just like the real moon.”
Nicole did have a point. The last full moon Sam had seen—in Colorado—had a few imperfections. But its pure white light had filled the night sky and shone brightly over the snow. If she could get a banged-up old metal disc to do that, she was a miracle worker.
“Maybe so,” he said. “Want me to move it? It oughta roll.”
“Gee, I hope so,” she said wryly.
He dragged the Texaco sign to one side and brought the moon forward, holding each side with a hand. “Hey, look at me. I’m waltzing with the moon.”
Nicole giggled. “Teach it to two-step.”
“Do you know how?” He kept on with what he was doing.
“Nope.”
“Then add it to your list of things I’m going to teach you to do,” Sam said.
“Driving a stick shift and learning to two-step—it’s a pretty short list.”
“You’re a pretty busy lady.”
Once he was clear of the big things that might catch it, they maneuvered the moon between the two of them, rolling it down crowded aisles of dusty furniture and odd items.
“I think this is how cavemen invented the first wheel,” he joked.
“Don’t forget the cavewomen. They invented the first stroller and the first rolling suitcase.”
Light brightened the gloomy interior of the warehouse. “We’re coming to the loading bay,” Sam said, looking over his shoulder.
A large truck was pulled up to the bay, and several guys were loading it.
“Okay.” She stopped, holding onto the metal rim. “You can bring the truck over.”
“Hope it fits.” Sam went down the stairs at the side.
The loading process went smoothly, and the rope proved to be more than long enough.
Testing the final knot, Sam turned to her. “What now?”
“Let’s go to a diner out here so I can get a late lunch. We’ll be able to keep an eye on the truck without having to pay for parking in Manhattan.”
“Fine. Tell me how to get there.”
She looked up
Diners, Queens
on her phone and directed him to the nearest one as he drove. Sam backed into a parking space in front of the uncurtained windows. The moon gleamed dully under the bright lights of the parking lot.
Nicole checked it when she got out of the truck.
“I didn’t hear any clanking around back here.” He tested the rope. “We should be able to get it back to Manhattan with no problem.”
She nodded. “I guess it won’t break. It’d better not.”
“Don’t worry.”
“It’s going to look amazing when I get done. Traverso Brothers is where I always find the best stuff.”
With a happy sigh, she wiped away dust from the moon’s surface as Sam went up the stairs and held the door open for her.
Nicole went in, looking at her hand. “Brilliant. Now I need to wash up.”
Overhearing, the hostess came toward them. “Right that way, miss.” She nodded toward the door as she reached for menus. “Two?” she asked Sam.
“Yes. Thanks.”
The diner was an old-fashioned place, with chrome-trimmed tables and banquettes done up in harlequin-pattern vinyl. He slid into the booth the hostess indicated and looked out. They would be able to keep an eye on the moon. But nobody seemed to notice Nicole’s treasure.
Nicole came back, peering out the window before she slid into the opposite side.

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