He stayed where he was, watching her, as she backed out of the gate and onto the road. Pausing to change gears, she gave him a casual wave, as if to say no hard feelings. He gave her a nod and a tip of an invisible hat before she pressed the gas pedal too hard and roared away.
She wasn’t going to cry this time, Maggie told herself. She’d done all she could. Now it was time to walk away and leave Travis to pursue his own agenda. Unless Hank was willing to play Santa with Conner driving the sleigh, she would give up on that idea and look elsewhere. There was always another solution—that was what her father used to tell her. Somehow she would find it.
As for Travis, she wouldn’t expect to see him again. The next time he came into town, he would likely leave her dishes on the front porch of her house, or maybe with the receptionist at work. But he wouldn’t stop in to say hello.
And she could handle that, Maggie told herself. After all, she was a big girl. And big girls didn’t cry. Wasn’t that what the old song said?
* * *
Conner looked up from loading the dishwasher as Travis came back into the house. “Hey man, you were out there so long, I was hoping you’d gotten lucky. But you’re looking more like your grandma’s been arrested by the Border Patrol. What happened?”
“You don’t want to know,” Travis growled. “And I don’t want to talk about it.”
Conner shook his head. “I take it things didn’t go well with your sexy lady mayor. Too bad. She’s not only gorgeous, she’s one hell of a good cook.”
“I said I didn’t want to talk about it. And since you like her so much, feel free to go after her yourself. If you’d offer to cozy up to my father and drive that sleigh in the parade, she’d probably be yours for life.”
Conner added detergent to the dishwasher, closed the door, and started the cycle. “So that’s what this is about.”
“It’s not what I want it to be about. But she won’t let it go. I’m done. She’s all yours.”
“I doubt she’d have me. I’ve seen the way that woman looks at you.” Conner stifled a yawn. “Besides, once we get our Christmas tree business going, your father won’t want anything to do with either one of us.” He glanced at the box of paperwork he’d hastily stowed on top of the fridge. “So, shall we take up where we left off when lovely Maggie showed up?”
Travis shook his head. “You’re running on caffeine and adrenaline. Get some sleep, or you’ll be worthless tomorrow.”
Conner yawned again. “Sounds like a plan. Thanks for the welcome, friend. I mean it. You’ve saved my life, and I’m not going to let you down.”
“Go on, before you get all mushy on me. You can have dibs on the bathroom. I’ll be awake for a while.”
“Thanks. I mean it.”
“Get some rest. I’ll wake you in time for chores.”
After Conner had vanished down the hall, Travis walked out onto the front porch and stood at the rail. In the sky, the waxing moon drifted behind a thin veil of clouds. The ancient cottonwoods that lined the road stood bare against the sky. A dry wind rattled their branches and stung Travis’s face where he stood. No storm tomorrow. Good, he thought. He and Conner would have enough to do without battling bad weather.
The business license application would need to be completed and turned in as soon as possible. But once it was in the hands of the county office, their plans would no longer be a secret. In a small town like Branding Iron, news traveled fast. It wouldn’t take long for word to reach Maggie, or even Hank.
Then what?
Maybe they should hold off a little longer, until their plans were in place. Lord, so many decisions.
Christmas Tree Ranch.
He liked the name—the sound of it, the way it rolled off the tongue, whispering of snow and sleigh bells and the scent of fresh pine. In prison, Christmas had been just another day. In his years as a patrolman, he’d always volunteered for work that day, giving the officers with families a chance to be home. This would be his first real Christmas since his boyhood.
Not that it would be a traditional Christmas, with family opening presents around a decorated tree. That was something he might never have. But he had come to this ranch a year ago with nothing. If he could celebrate this Christmas with a successful business venture behind him, cash in his pocket, food on the table, and a friend to share it, he would call life good.
As for the rest . . . Travis gazed down the road where Maggie’s Lincoln had long since vanished. He had never shared that early experience with his father. But something about Maggie’s warmth had prompted him to tell her, and to take her in his arms. The woman was as sensual as she was smart and classy. Her response to his kiss had shown him that much. But for anything more than a few cheap thrills, she was out of his league. The sooner he accepted that and moved on, the better off he’d be.
Something pressed against his leg. Bucket had come onto the porch. Was it for company, Travis wondered, or just warmth? He reached down and rubbed the dog’s silky ears. The nights were getting cold, and the skunk smell had all but faded from his coat.
Turning his back on the night, he walked to the front door and opened it. “Come on, boy,” he said, glancing back at the dog. “It’s all right.”
The dog followed him into the house, glancing around as if to make sure he was allowed. In the back of the closet, Travis found an old blanket he’d used in his truck. Folding it to make soft layers, he placed it in a warm corner of the kitchen, near the stove. “Behave yourself, and it’s yours,” he said, giving the animal a stern look.
Bucket walked over to the blanket, sniffed it, made a circle with his body, and closed his eyes.
Travis turned off the light and went to bed.