My Kind of Christmas Read online

Page 13


  They were shooting for Thanksgiving weekend to start selling trees. With just days left, the task of trimming, cutting, putting up signs, running an ad in the Cottonwood Springs paper, and setting up their display would keep them busy almost around the clock. They’d be lucky to find time for sleep. Even his relationship with Maggie would have to be put on hold.

  They had one chance to make their plan succeed. The days ahead would be do or die.

  * * *

  By the end of that first day, Travis and Conner were sore, scratched, and exhausted. Trimming seven- and eight-foot trees, making them look good, and doing it efficiently was harder than they’d ever imagined it could be. They’d worked until the daylight was gone, then loaded up the cart and headed back to the house.

  The horses were waiting at the pasture gate. After turning Patch and Chip into the barn, the two men stumbled into the house to gulp down milk and warmed-over pizza from the fridge. They’d planned to work on their advertising plan, but they were too tired to think. It was all they could do to shower and fall into bed.

  Lying in the darkness, Travis found himself too wired to sleep. What if they’d bitten off more than they could chew? What if they gave this project their all and still couldn’t be ready in time to sell their trees?

  Time wasn’t the only problem. They were also running out of cash, and they had yet to buy what they needed for their display. Hell, they could barely afford to keep food on the table and the lights on in the house.

  They needed help, or a damned miracle.

  Even thinking about Maggie wasn’t enough to settle him for sleep. He wanted to pursue what was between them. But Maggie was a classy woman who deserved the best a man could offer her—and he had nothing. How could he ask her to wait, when he couldn’t even afford a cheeseburger date at Buckaroo’s?

  After what seemed like hours of tossing and turning, he finally drifted off. He was deep in slumber when Bucket’s barking and a rap on the front door jerked him awake. He sat up and glanced at the bedside clock. It was 3:15 AM.

  “What the hell . . .” Swearing, he staggered to his feet. There was no sign of life from Conner’s room but, as he’d already learned, when Conner was tired, he could sleep through an earthquake.

  The house was dark. He cursed as he stubbed his bare toe on the coatrack. Bucket had stopped barking. His tail thumped as Travis turned on the porch light and opened the door.

  Rush stood in the circle of light, looking dead on his feet. “Sorry to wake you,” he said. “I got halfway to Fort Worth and changed my mind about your offer. If you’ll still have me, I’m in.”

  Travis managed a grin of relief. “You know where to find the couch and the bathroom,” he said. “We’ll talk in the morning.”

  * * *

  On the day before Thanksgiving, the city offices closed at noon. Maggie was just about to leave work when her cell phone rang. The caller was Francine. Maggie sank back into her chair to take the call.

  “Hi, honey. Just wanted to wish you a happy holiday and see if you’d made any progress.”

  “On the Santa search?” Maggie sighed. “No luck. Do you think Hank would do it if we rented a fancy convertible to use instead of the sleigh? He could sit up on the back and wave at the kids from there, with someone in the seat throwing candy. It wouldn’t be as good as the sleigh and horses, but it would be better than nothing.”

  “I could ask him, honey, but I don’t think it would do any good. Hank’s a stubborn man, and he’s dug in his heels. He wants a reunion with his son—or at least a face-to-face chance to apologize. Hank told me what happened between them. It wasn’t pretty, but it was a long time ago. He’s a different man now. He’d like a chance to prove it.”

  Maggie thought about the secret she knew—Travis’s plan to sell Christmas trees. She hadn’t shared that secret with anyone, especially Francine. But two days from now, Christmas Tree Ranch would be open for business. There was no way Hank was going to be happy about that.

  “It’s not going to happen, Francine,” she said. “In fact, unless something changes, things are only going to get worse. I can’t tell you why, but you’ll find out soon enough.”

  “Well, all right.” Francine sounded mildly piqued. Maggie knew she liked to be up on all the goings-on around town. But Travis and his partners were planning to open with a bang on the day after Thanksgiving. Nothing could be allowed to spoil the surprise.

  She decided to change the subject. “I guess you’ll be having Thanksgiving dinner with your daughter’s family, won’t you?”

  “That’s right, honey. Turkey and all the trimmings. Then I get to spend time with my little granddaughter. Hank’s coming, too. How about you, honey?”

  Maggie hadn’t even thought about Thanksgiving dinner. Travis, who’d kept her updated with occasional phone calls, would be too busy to join her, and she had no family. “I could use a rest,” she said. “Maybe I’ll just sleep in, eat popcorn, and watch movies.”

  “Oh, honey, that’s no good. Come have dinner with us. There’s always room for another place at the table.”

  “That’s awfully nice of you, but I’ll figure something out. I’ll be fine.”

  “Well, all right,” Francine said. “But we can’t give up on Operation Santa Claus. Keep me posted, honey, and I’ll do the same for you.”

  Maggie thanked her and ended the call. Maybe Francine was right. Maybe there were better things to do on Thanksgiving Day than sleep in and watch movies. Even if Travis was too busy to come to her house, he and his friends would need to eat. She could fix a meal and take it to them at the ranch.

  Still at her desk, she took time to jot down a list of things she’d need. Then she picked up her coat and purse, closed her office, and, sidestepping a lurking Stanley Featherstone on the way out, headed for her car and drove to Shop Mart.

  The big box store was packed with pre-Thanksgiving shoppers. Maggie navigated her cart through jammed aisles, smiling at people she knew and apologizing when she blocked some shopper’s way. Locating everything she needed took a long time. She found herself, at last, in front of the bakery department.

  She knew better than to wear herself out making pies and rolls from scratch. With so little time left, it made more sense to buy them.

  She was looking through the glass counter at the pies on display when a familiar voice greeted her. “Hi, Miss Maggie.”

  “Katy?” She spotted the petite, blond girl behind the counter. Silas and Connie Parker’s daughter, who had Down syndrome, was a favorite in Branding Iron. She’d always lived at home with her parents, but now that she was twenty-two years old, she was showing an independent streak.

  “I didn’t know you had a job, Katy,” Maggie said. “That’s great!”

  “I’ve been working here a month,” Katy said. “Right now, I’m just helping people, but I’m learning to bake.” She leaned across the counter, her pretty blue eyes sparkling. “Guess what? I’ve got a boyfriend. He’s right over there.”

  Maggie followed the direction of her gaze. At one of the registers, a young man was bagging groceries. Noticing their attention, he gave them a grin. He, too, had Down syndrome.

  “His name is Daniel,” Katy said. “We talk a lot. Sometimes he holds my hand. It’s nice.”

  It did sound nice, Maggie thought. Katy deserved some romance in her young life. But she couldn’t help wondering how much Katy’s protective parents knew about the relationship, and how they viewed it.

  Other customers were waiting, so Katy couldn’t continue to visit. Maggie chose a dozen fresh dinner rolls and two pies from the dwindling supply in the bakery and took them, along with her other purchases, to the checkout stand with the shortest line. Daniel, who was bagging groceries, gave her a quiet smile. He was a nice-looking young man, short and heavyset, with dark hair and gentle brown eyes. His family must be new in Branding Iron. Otherwise, she would surely have noticed him earlier.

  Thinking back, Maggie remembered that Katy had bee
n home-schooled by her mother. In this small Texas town, she’d had little chance to meet other young people like herself. No wonder she was so drawn to Daniel. Maggie could only hope the budding romance would turn out to be a good thing.

  She spent too much time worrying about people—at least that was what she’d been told. She was the town mayor, not the town mother. But she couldn’t help being concerned about Katy and Daniel, their parents, and all the families in Branding Iron. She wanted them to be safe and happy and have what they needed. And she wanted the town’s Christmas celebration to leave everyone in a festive mood.

  So far that wasn’t working out so well.

  “Can I help you outside?” The soft voice at her shoulder was Daniel’s. He gave her a shy smile. Ordinarily, Maggie would have carted her own groceries outside and loaded them in the car, but she wanted to know more about the boy who’d captured Katy’s innocent young heart.

  “That would be nice, thank you,” she said. “My car’s on the far side of the lot.”

  She walked beside him, taking her time as he pushed the cart. He was no taller than her shoulder, his dark hair carefully brushed to one side. Beneath the red Shop Mart apron, his clothes were neat and clean.

  “I haven’t seen you before today,” Maggie said. “Is your family new in town?”

  “We just moved here. My dad teaches sixth grade at the school. My mom is a writer. This is my first job.” Daniel guided the cart carefully along the crowded lanes of the parking lot.

  “You seem to be doing fine.” Maggie made a mental note to look for his family and introduce herself. It was surprising she hadn’t met them earlier. She could only assume they were private people who kept to themselves.

  “I saw you talking to Katy,” Daniel said. “Are you her friend?”

  “The whole town is Katy’s friend,” Maggie said. “Everybody who knows her loves her.”

  “I love her, too.”

  Just like that. His simple honesty caused Maggie’s throat to catch. Why couldn’t more men be that sure and straightforward?

  “She’s the prettiest, nicest girl I’ve ever met,” Daniel said.

  “How many girls like Katy have you met?” Maggie knew she was prying, but for Katy’s sake, she needed to know. “Have you had other girlfriends?”

  He gave her a sharp glance. “We lived in St. Louis. I went to a special school. There were lots of kids with Down syndrome. Lots of girls. But not any like Katy. Not any that I loved.”

  Maggie had to smile. Score one for Daniel. She had underestimated the young man. “Have you met her parents?” she asked.

  “I’ve seen her mother in the store. But I haven’t met them. I’m kind of nervous. What if they don’t like me?”

  “I understand,” Maggie said. “Silas and Connie are some of the nicest people I know. But they’re very protective of Katy. If it helps, I’ll put in a good word for you.”

  “Thanks.” He gave her a grin as they reached her car.

  Maggie clicked the trunk, and he loaded the grocery bags.

  “It’s nice to have somebody on our side.”

  On our side? Was she really on their side? Maggie asked herself as she drove away. Heavens to Betsy, didn’t she have enough on her plate without taking sides in what could turn out to be a Romeo and Juliet romance? Why couldn’t she learn to mind her own business?

  At home, she put the fresh turkey in the fridge and set about organizing the rest of her supplies for tomorrow. Maggie hadn’t cooked a Thanksgiving dinner since her father had passed away. She was looking forward to doing it again.

  She’d almost finished sorting her supplies and setting out the pots and pans she’d need tomorrow morning when her phone rang. Her pulse did a little skip-hop when she saw the name on the caller ID.

  “Hi.” Travis’s voice triggered a ripple of pleasure. They hadn’t seen each other since the night of the storm, but they’d kept in touch by phone. Their separation had only sharpened Maggie’s hunger to be in his arms again. Against her better judgment, she had fallen hard for the man. Past hurts had taught her to brace for the letdown that was sure to come. But for now, she was on top of the roller coaster, hooked on the sweet high of anticipation, too happy to let go and back away to a safe place.

  “How’s it going?” she asked, trying to sound cool when all she really wanted was to throw down the phone and drive out to find him.

  “Crazy. Everything’s got to be ready by Friday morning, and there’s still a lot of last-minute stuff to do. We’re running our legs off. We won’t even have time to sleep.”

  “Well, at least you’ll need to eat. That’s why I’m bringing Thanksgiving dinner to your place tomorrow. I’ll do everything. All you three will have to do is show up at the table.”

  There was silence on the other end of the call. Maggie’s heart sank. “Did I say something wrong?” she asked.

  He sighed. “I know you mean well, Maggie, but we won’t have time to sit down together, even for a Thanksgiving dinner. We’ve got trees to cut, the yard display to set up, the signs to paint, and it all has to be done by the end of tomorrow.”

  “But I’ve bought all the food! Surely you can spare half an hour to eat!”

  “I’m sorry, but we have to be ready,” he said. “If you still feel like cooking, maybe you can invite somebody to your house.”

  If he’d been in the room with her, Maggie would have been tempted to punch him. True, maybe she should have asked before she’d bought food and made plans. But what kind of man would turn down a lovingly prepared Thanksgiving dinner because he was too busy to sit down and eat it?

  A mule-headed, stubborn man. That was the answer to her question. But she could be stubborn, too.

  “I’ll be cooking dinner and bringing it,” she said. “If you and your friends don’t want any, I’ll share it with the dog!” With that, she ended the call before he could argue.

  She got up early the next morning to stuff and roast the twelve-pound turkey and make the other preparations. But knowing her efforts might not be appreciated, or even welcomed, turned what might have been a pleasure to plain old drudgery.

  By 2:00 PM, everything was cooked, covered, and loaded into the back of her car. Apprehension tightened a knot in the pit of her stomach as she backed out of the driveway. Maybe she shouldn’t have insisted on bringing dinner. Maybe she should have just left well enough alone.

  Chapter 11

  As she pulled up to the ranch gate, Maggie could see the changes in the front yard. A small fire pit had been dug and lined with stones. Wooden posts had been set up to hold strings of Christmas lights. Two racks, connected by long ropes, supported a row of cut Christmas trees, which Conner was unloading from a two-wheeled cart. They were beautiful trees, lush and green and fresh. Their fragrance stirred memories of childhood Christmases, when the pine aroma would fill the house.

  Conner saw her, waved, and grinned. “Hi, Maggie! What brings you out this way?”

  She walked around the car and opened the trunk. “I brought Thanksgiving dinner for you all. Didn’t Travis tell you I was coming?”

  “Not a word. But it’s a hell of a nice surprise. Why wouldn’t he have said something?”

  “He told me the three of you would be too busy to eat.”

  “That sounds like Travis, all right. But he can damn well speak for himself,” Conner said. “I’m starved!” He leaned the tree he was holding against the rope stand and came toward the car. “Hang on, I’ll help you carry everything into the house. I could eat it all myself, but I guess I’d better call Rush and Travis. They’re out cutting more trees.”

  “Tell Travis he doesn’t have to come if he’s too busy.”

  Conner grinned. “We’ll see about that.” He took out his cell phone and made a quick call. Then he picked up the heavy covered pan with the roasted turkey in it and set off for the front porch.

  Maggie followed, balancing the rolls and salad. Why couldn’t she have fallen for Conner? He was so easy to
like, so upbeat and charmingly irreverent. And she could tell he liked her.

  But her heart had made its choice. Travis, with his troubled past and driven nature, could be a challenge. But his other qualities—tenderness, loyalty, and concern for others—more than made up for his darker side. He was a man who’d been deeply hurt, a man who was still struggling against the pain. If his pride would let her, she wanted to be there for him.

  By the time she and Conner had brought everything inside, set the table, and carved the turkey, they heard the ATV roaring into the yard. At least somebody else was coming.

  Travis and Rush, the new partner she had yet to meet, stomped the sawdust and pine needles off their boots and left their coats and gloves on the porch. As they came inside to wash, Travis gave Maggie a repentant look. “Smells great,” he said.

  “Of course, if you’re too busy, you don’t have to eat any of it,” Maggie teased. His answering wink told her everything was all right between them. Her heart slipped back into its happy rhythm.

  As the men took their places at the table, she got her first good look at Dr. J. T. Rushford. Tall, with dark hair and brown eyes, he was the handsomest of the three—or maybe he just had the best haircut. Travis had told her he’d be starting his mobile veterinary service after the holidays. Meanwhile, he was helping Travis and Conner with the trees.

  Rush had brought another badly needed element to the venture—solid credit. He’d had no trouble getting a bank loan to set up his veterinary practice, with enough money left over to save the Christmas tree project. Maggie knew that Travis was worried about paying back his share after the season. But that was Travis. He worried about everything—just as she did.

  Maggie was about to start passing the food around the table when Conner spoke up. “Whoa. It’s Thanksgiving—a special day. We should say grace.”

  “I never knew you to be a praying man, Conner,” Travis said.

  “Are you kidding?” Conner said. “Back in Oklahoma, my mom took us kids to church every Sunday, rain or shine. And in the arena, every time I settled onto one of those killer bulls, I did it with a little prayer.”

 

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