The shade was pulled, but a small hole in the shade projected onto the wall a very detailed image, not a shadow but a photographic image of the winter-denuded cottonwood tree growing just outside the hotel. He sat up in the bed and swung his legs over the side, remaining there for a long moment before padding barefoot across the plank floor toward the chest of drawers. He picked up the porcelain pitcher and poured water into a basin. The water was just short of freezing, but it had an invigorating effect as he washed his face and hands, then worked up a lather that enabled him to shave. It was already mid-morning, but the heavy green shade covering the window kept out most of the light. Not until he was dressed did he open the shade to let the morning sunshine stream in. He stood at the window for a moment, looking out onto the street below. Across the street, an empty wagon with one of its wheels removed sat on blocks. Another freight wagon was just pulling away while a third was being loaded.
What do You think about A Rocky Mountain Christmas?
