“Um, I asked for a beer.”
“It’s your call, of course. But beer will make you even colder. You want to catch your death?”
He blinked up at her, then shrugged in surrender.
“And see if you can find a dry shirt kicking around, will you, Selene?” Maya called.
Selene nodded, tilting her head as she examined the stranger. Of them all, she was the most strikingly different. Her hair was long, lustrous, perfectly straight and silvery blond. Her eyes were palest blue, so they, too, often seemed silver. They seemed silver now, as she narrowed them on the man.
“You new in town?” Selene asked him.
“Just passing through,” he told her.
Selene’s gaze slid from his face, to her sister’s. “That’s odd. I got the feeling you were here to stay.” She shrugged, tipping her head sideways, and said, “Oh, well,” as she turned to hurry away.
The stranger sent Maya a questioning glance.
“This month she’s convinced she has ESP,” she explained. “Last month she was exploring her past lives in Atlantis.”
He grinned widely. “Your sister?” he asked.
“How’d you guess?”
“There’s a resemblance.”
Maya smiled back at him, feeling warm all over just from the light of his smile. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“You were meant to.”
There was something in his eyes that made her heart quiver. She cleared her throat, searched for something to say, and came up with the lamest line ever uttered in any bar in any town, ever. “So, where are you from?”
His smile died. All at once, just like that. He lowered his eyes, cleared his throat “Umm…a long ways from here. You wouldn’t know it.”
“Try me.” She wasn’t sure why she said it. Curiosity, she supposed. She wanted to know his story. What had hurt him. What had sent him out into the dark rainy night to a strange town, a strange bar, a strange woman….
He looked up again. Seemed about to say something. Then seemed to change his mind. “Tulsa. I’m from Tulsa.”
“Well, now, Tulsa’s not that far away. And I’m pretty sure everyone in this room has heard of it.” She smiled gently at the way his eyes widened and he looked around. “Hey, don’t look so nervous. I’m not gonna tell anyone where you’re from if you don’t want me to.”
His gaze met hers again. “I appreciate that.”
“Are you in some kind of trouble?” she asked.
He shook his head slowly. “I’m not wanted or anything, if that’s what you mean.”
The reply that popped into her head was that he most certainly was wanted. Right now. By her. But she bit her tongue and didn’t speak. The fire snapped, and its scent made her nostrils burn. The glow from the flames painted his face in light and shadow, and she took advantage of the chance to explore it more thoroughly. He had a straight nose that began high and was on the large side. It made her think of royalty, that nose. His jawline was sharply delineated, and strong, and he hadn’t shaved in several hours. A soft dusting of dark whiskers coated his cheeks and his chin. Reaching up, she took off his hat, again moving without thinking first. It was unlike her to be this forward with anyone. But she took the hat off, and it was wet. His hair underneath, though, was dry. Brown and fire-glow red in places, when the firelight hit it. It was thick, wavy, but short. If it grew long, she thought, it would be curly. But short it couldn’t be. He kept it that way to keep it tame, she mused. He liked control.
And now who was pretending to have ESP?
“Stealin’ my hat, ma’am?” he asked, his voice very soft, very deep, and stroking her nerve endings like callused fingers on velvet.
“Umm…it’s wet.” Turning away to hide the rush of heat to her face, she hung the hat on one of the pegs beside the fireplace. Then she spoke to him over her shoulder, avoiding his eyes. “Might as well hang that shirt up here, too,” she told him.
His reply came from close beside her. “If you say so.” A second later, his damp denim brushed her arm as he leaned in close to her to hang it up beside his hat. His shoulder was pressed to hers, his hip. He looked down slowly, and his mouth was only inches from hers as he turned toward her….
“Ahem!”
Maya jumped and the stranger spun.
“Your cocoa is here,” Selene said, her mysterious silver eyes sliding from one of them to the other. She put the pot on the table, set a cup beside it and tossed a Denver Broncos sweatshirt over the back of the chair. “It belongs to a friend of mine, so make sure I get it back.”
“Thanks,” the man said. He took the sweatshirt and pulled it on over his T-shirt, arms first then poked his head through and sat back down.
Selene stood there watching the two of them intently.
“That’ll be all, Selene,” Maya said.
Sighing, looking very deep in thought, Selene turned and left them.
“Selene, hm?” the stranger said. “Fits her.”
“You think?”
“Sure. Mystical. Lunar. Isn’t it the name of some Greek moon goddess or something?”
“Could have been. Mom used to read lots of mythology.”
“So?”
She blinked, saw him looking at her, and, finally, read his eyes. “Oh. Maya. My name is Maya Brand.”
His brows went up.
“As in the Earth Mother goddess,” she explained.
“And does it fit?”
“Oh, I’m a long way from being anyone’s mother. I’m still…I mean, I…” She bit her lip. “You haven’t told me your name yet.”
He averted his eyes. “Caleb.”
“Just Caleb?” He didn’t answer.
Then she looked at her watch. “I have to go start the line dancing lesson.”
He met her eyes, held them. Then, slowly, he got to his feet. “That’s great. I’ve always wanted to learn line dancing.”
Oh, hell.
This was not good, whatever it was. She was waiting for a respectable man, with a position of authority. Someone so established that being his wife would set her firmly into the midst of the “good people” of Big Falls and no one would ever think of brushing her off again. She didn’t want to get involved with a dirt-poor drifter who couldn’t even afford a decent pair of boots. And especially not a man who was just passing through.
Above all else, Maya wanted a man she could depend on. A man who would be there for her, no matter what. One who would climb mountains, swim oceans, if that was what it took to be there when she needed him. A man who would be as honest and loyal and true as…as some silver screen cowboy from days gone by. What she didn’t want was a drifter or a liar or a cheat. A man like her father, who had never once been around for her mother when the chips were down. A man whose exploits had shamed his entire family so much they were still trying to live them down—even though he’d been dead for over twenty years.
And yet this man—who was already hiding something, keeping some secret behind his blue, blue eyes, and who was obviously a drifter and poor as a church mouse—this man was the one to come along and cause her circuits to overload. Go figure!
It must be physical attraction, she reasoned. Some chemical thing that she had no control over. But whatever it was, it was powerful. And its timing was damn near uncanny. Especially when she’d only just tonight been bemoaning the fact that she was a year from thirty and still a virgin. Untouched. Untempted…until now. Now she was extremely tempted to forget her morals and her ethics and her goals in life for one brief fling with a man whose eyes told her clearly he would be willing to oblige.
She’d never been so powerfully drawn to a man in her life.
Or maybe it was just the beer.
Find The Brands Who Came for Christmas
on Smashwords.
Also Available
The McIntyre Men
Oklahoma Christmas Blues
Oklahoma Moonshine
Oklahoma Starshine
Oklahoma S
unshine
Baby By Christmas
The Oklahoma All-Girl Brands
The Brands Who Came for Christmas
Brand-New Heartache
Secrets and Lies
A Mommy For Christmas
One Magic Summer
Sweet Vidalia Brand
A Brand of Christmas
Buckles, Boots and Mistletoe
The Texas Brands
The Littlest Cowboy
The Baddest Virgin in Texas
Badlands Bad Boy
Long Gone Lonesome Blues
The Lone Cowboy
Lone Star Lonely
The Outlaw Bride
Texas Angel
Texas Homecoming
About the Author
New York Times bestselling author Maggie Shayne has published more than 60 novels and 23 novellas. She has written for 7 publishers and 2 soap operas, has racked up 15 Rita Award nominations and actually, finally, won the damn thing in 2005.
Maggie lives in a beautiful, century old, happily haunted farmhouse named “Serenity” in the wildest wilds of Cortland County, NY, with her husband and soul mate, Lance. They share a pair of English Mastiffs, Dozer & Daisy, and a little English Bulldog, Niblet, and the wise guardian and guru of them all, the feline Glory, who keeps the dogs firmly in their places. Maggie’s a Wiccan high priestess (legal clergy even) and an avid follower of the Law of Attraction
Connect with Maggie
Maggie’s Website
WingsInTheNight.com
Maggie’s Bliss Blog
Maggie’s Coffee House Blog
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