calling you a fat cat,” Sheila called after her. “And some men like cats, some like cookies, and some even enjoy cartoons, but I’ve yet to find one who likes everything I do.”
She shook a box of cat treats.
The cat stuck her head back around the corner. Sheila poured a small pile of the treats into the cat’s bowl. “Come on. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply you were a fat cat.” She stroked the felines back as Chrissie nibbled at her delicacies.
“I should probably check online and see if I can find information on how to get in touch with Mr. Foster.” She stood and took a sugar cookie off one of the many plates that were sitting around. Sheila nibbled at the yellow frosting of a daisy shaped flower.
The teakettle began to steam on the stove. She laid the cookie down on a small saucer, picked up her favorite Christmas mug, and added hot-chocolate mix to it. Then she added the water and stirred, all the while thinking about Morgan Foster.
He was probably an old man with a beard and round belly.
She imagined he had a love for nature and spent long hours in the woods. Sheila pictured him petting a deer and feeding it an apple.
As the scent of hot cocoa filled her nose, Sheila laughed. He sounded a lot like Santa Claus. She dropped six mini marshmallows into the cup. After adding a couple of more cookies to the saucer, she picked up her large mug of hot chocolate and headed for her office.
The room welcomed her like an old friend. The artificial fireplace warmed the room. She took a seat at the desk that faced a large, open window. The tree outside reminded her of the little squirrel. She rolled her mouse to make the computer screen come to life then typed in “Foster’s Woodland Collectibles.”
Sheila knew stores carried the ornaments and figurines, but where did one look for the artist? Sheila put a plus symbol after Collectibles and added Artist. The screen flickered for several moments before pulling up several Web links.
Up popped www.Fosterswoodlandcollectibles.com onto the screen. She clicked on the link and was pleasantly surprised to see a picture of a man with unruly brown hair and smiling blue eyes appear on the screen. “Probably his grandson,” she told a meowing Chrissie.
As she read aloud, her eyes grew round. “The creator of Foster’s Woodland Collectibles lives in Snowbound Village, Connecticut.” She looked over at Chrissie and whispered, “Oh, he lives here in Snowbound and is going to be at the mall today!”
Chapter 2
Sheila rushed into the mall. Thanks to bad weather, she was running late. The sign at the entry of the mall announced Morgan Foster would be signing his ornaments and figurines from 4:00 to 6:00 p.m. According to her watch, it was five thirty now.
She hurried through the crowds of shoppers. Sale signs stood in front of most stores; offers of half off the prices tempted her to stop as she moved toward the one store she really wanted to go to. If she could meet Mr. Foster and get his permission to use his ornaments, her trip out into the crowds of crazed shoppers would be successful.
A teenage girl in a red pinafore and matching Santa hat greeted her as she entered the store Deck the Hall. “Merry Christmas, can I help you?” Her voice sounded bored, and her gaze searched out something toward the back of the store.
Sheila took a deep breath. “I’m looking for Mr. Foster, the creator of Foster’s Woodland Collectibles.”
That got her attention. A genuine smile touched the girl’s lips and eyes. “He’s dreamy, isn’t he?”
Sheila didn’t know what to think of the girl’s whispered words. Either she stayed at home with her mom too much, or she was just out of the popular loop. She didn’t think teens today would use the word dreamy to describe a man.
“I do enjoy his ornaments. That’s why I’m here.”
“Sure. You and half of Snowbound came out just to see his collectibles.”
Not liking the way the girl was looking her up
She shook a box of cat treats.
The cat stuck her head back around the corner. Sheila poured a small pile of the treats into the cat’s bowl. “Come on. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply you were a fat cat.” She stroked the felines back as Chrissie nibbled at her delicacies.
“I should probably check online and see if I can find information on how to get in touch with Mr. Foster.” She stood and took a sugar cookie off one of the many plates that were sitting around. Sheila nibbled at the yellow frosting of a daisy shaped flower.
The teakettle began to steam on the stove. She laid the cookie down on a small saucer, picked up her favorite Christmas mug, and added hot-chocolate mix to it. Then she added the water and stirred, all the while thinking about Morgan Foster.
He was probably an old man with a beard and round belly.
She imagined he had a love for nature and spent long hours in the woods. Sheila pictured him petting a deer and feeding it an apple.
As the scent of hot cocoa filled her nose, Sheila laughed. He sounded a lot like Santa Claus. She dropped six mini marshmallows into the cup. After adding a couple of more cookies to the saucer, she picked up her large mug of hot chocolate and headed for her office.
The room welcomed her like an old friend. The artificial fireplace warmed the room. She took a seat at the desk that faced a large, open window. The tree outside reminded her of the little squirrel. She rolled her mouse to make the computer screen come to life then typed in “Foster’s Woodland Collectibles.”
Sheila knew stores carried the ornaments and figurines, but where did one look for the artist? Sheila put a plus symbol after Collectibles and added Artist. The screen flickered for several moments before pulling up several Web links.
Up popped www.Fosterswoodlandcollectibles.com onto the screen. She clicked on the link and was pleasantly surprised to see a picture of a man with unruly brown hair and smiling blue eyes appear on the screen. “Probably his grandson,” she told a meowing Chrissie.
As she read aloud, her eyes grew round. “The creator of Foster’s Woodland Collectibles lives in Snowbound Village, Connecticut.” She looked over at Chrissie and whispered, “Oh, he lives here in Snowbound and is going to be at the mall today!”
Chapter 2
Sheila rushed into the mall. Thanks to bad weather, she was running late. The sign at the entry of the mall announced Morgan Foster would be signing his ornaments and figurines from 4:00 to 6:00 p.m. According to her watch, it was five thirty now.
She hurried through the crowds of shoppers. Sale signs stood in front of most stores; offers of half off the prices tempted her to stop as she moved toward the one store she really wanted to go to. If she could meet Mr. Foster and get his permission to use his ornaments, her trip out into the crowds of crazed shoppers would be successful.
A teenage girl in a red pinafore and matching Santa hat greeted her as she entered the store Deck the Hall. “Merry Christmas, can I help you?” Her voice sounded bored, and her gaze searched out something toward the back of the store.
Sheila took a deep breath. “I’m looking for Mr. Foster, the creator of Foster’s Woodland Collectibles.”
That got her attention. A genuine smile touched the girl’s lips and eyes. “He’s dreamy, isn’t he?”
Sheila didn’t know what to think of the girl’s whispered words. Either she stayed at home with her mom too much, or she was just out of the popular loop. She didn’t think teens today would use the word dreamy to describe a man.
“I do enjoy his ornaments. That’s why I’m here.”
“Sure. You and half of Snowbound came out just to see his collectibles.”
Not liking the way the girl was looking her up
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