Christmas at Blue Moon Ranch

by Lynnette Kent

  “Stay.”

  His eyebrows drew together, his blue eyes questioning, doubtful. “Are you sure?”

  “Oh, yes.”

  He squeezed his eyes shut for a second. “Thank God.”

  And then he came back to her, stronger, more demanding than before. The room heated up, or maybe that was just her body, on fire everywhere Daniel touched her, everywhere he kissed. And that was everywhere. Finally, they lay together, skin to skin. He moved inside of her…gently, at first, then harder, faster, till the bed rocked and her body thrashed and her senses exploded into a brilliant climax. Before she could catch a single breath, Daniel gave a strangled cry.

  And then he relaxed, falling to the side, drawing her with him into the shelter of the covers and his arms. Safe and sated, Willa plunged mindlessly into sleep.

  SHE WOKE UP WINCING, WITH A headache thudding like a bass drum between her ears. Through one squinted eye she saw the yellow line of sunlight at the top of the drapes, which meant she must have slept much later than she’d intended.

  In the next second, Willa realized she was naked under the covers. Then she remembered why.

  With a gasp, she whipped her head around to see that the other side of the bed was empty. She had a moment to sigh in relief before her stomach revolted and sent her running for the bathroom.

  After a few unpleasant minutes, she wiped her face with a cold washcloth. Unable to meet her own eyes in the mirror, she sat on the end of the bed she…they…hadn’t slept in, her fists clenched in her lap, and faced the shameful facts.

  Last night, she’d abandoned the last ounce of good sense she possessed to have sex with a man she didn’t know, a man who hadn’t even stayed long enough to say “Good morning.” After fourteen years of marriage and three kids, she should know better than to take this kind of risk.

  Every woman had the right to be stupid once in her life, especially as a teenager. Giving in to a boy’s persuasion—“If you loved me you’d do it”—was understandable when you were only sixteen.

  But what excuse did she have at thirty-two? How could she have allowed her principles to be overturned by a sexy grin and a pair of sweet blue eyes?

  Well, no more. As she jerked on her clothes, Willa swore to herself that she wouldn’t let Daniel Trent get to her. She would keep her distance, make him keep his. With any luck, he’d fail miserably in his attempt at ranching and be gone well before Christmas. All she had to do was wait him out…

  …and never again give herself a chance to make a mistake like the one last night.

  WHEN SHE FINALLY DREDGED UP the courage to leave her room, she found Daniel Trent leaning against the wall in the hotel lobby, scanning a newspaper.

  “Good morning.” Smiling, he straightened and fell into step beside her. “Can you join me for breakfast?”

  “No. Thanks.” She glanced at the people moving around them as if looking for someone, avoiding his knowing blue eyes. “I need to get on the road. I can’t afford to miss a whole day’s work.”

  “Okay.” He folded the paper under his arm. “I thought I’d follow you out to the ranch, look around a bit. My stuff won’t be arriving until the end of the week, but I’d like to see the setup, get a feel for what kind of supplies I’ll be needing.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him shrug. “I’ve lived in army housing most of the time, so I don’t have much furniture. Outfitting a house is a new experience.”

  Panic erupted in her chest. Without answering, Willa walked quickly outside, aware that Daniel was following as fast as he could. She didn’t slow down for him.

  Somehow, though, he was right behind her when she opened her truck door. He put a hand on her arm as she started to climb in.

  “Willa? What’s going on?”

  She threw her purse into the passenger seat and jerked around to face him. “What’s going on is that I’ve made two horrible mistakes in the past twenty-four hours. I’m furious with myself and—”

  “With me,” he said, interrupting.

  “Yes.” She shook off his touch. “I should never have put that land up for sale, and I shouldn’t have let you talk me into this crazy arrangement we’ve got set up now. All that was bad enough.” Taking a deep breath, she tried to steady her voice. “But to know that I let myself get drunk enough to…to—” The words stayed stuck in her throat. How could she have been so careless, so disrespectful of herself?

  Daniel didn’t have the same scruples. “Sleep with me?”

  Willa clenched her hands into fists. “Stop that! I don’t want you reading my mind and finishing my thoughts.”

  Daniel raised his hand and stepped backward, out of her reach. “Yes, ma’am.” His gaze had gone cold, and his mouth was a hard, straight line. “I will be following you as you drive home, however, because I have a contract that allows me access to the thousand acres of land I’m calling the New Moon Ranch. You should expect to see me from time to time, since the road to my place goes by the main house of the Blue Moon. I’ll try not to inconvenience you as I get settled.”

  He pivoted on his good leg and moved away with that awkward limp, climbed into his rain-spattered truck and let the engine idle, waiting for Willa to lead the way.

  Swearing under her breath, she started her own vehicle and left the parking lot. All through the hour-long drive home, she was aware of him behind her, his face grim through the windshield. He wore mirrored sunglasses, but she could imagine the blue gaze behind them. She’d read the hurt there before anger had replaced it.

  Last night, she’d urged him to stay and make love with her, accepting him despite his terrible scars. This morning, she’d rejected every moment they’d spent together. That made three terrible mistakes she had committed in the past twenty-four hours. Willa couldn’t believe how badly she’d behaved. No doubt about it, Daniel Trent brought out the worst in her. Yet another reason to avoid him.

  With every mile that passed, the screw of nerves inside her twisted tighter. By the time she reached the familiar gateway—an iron arch spelling out El Rancho Luna Azul, with a crescent moon on each end—Willa was a wreck. Abruptly, she steered her truck to the side of the road just inside the entrance and cut the engine. Daniel stopped behind her, but she reached his window before he could open his door, so he rolled down the glass.

  “Something else wrong?” he asked in a cold voice.

  “Stay away from me,” she told him. “If you need help, I’ll send one of my workmen to do what he can. But leave me alone.”

  Daniel took off his sunglasses, and she was surprised to see the laughter in his eyes. “You’re running scared, aren’t you, Willa? Afraid of what you felt last night?”

  Her cheeks heated up at the memory. “I don’t sleep around.”

  “I didn’t think you did. And I don’t intend to pressure you for something you won’t give freely.” He slipped the shades back onto his face. “But I do intend to make the New Moon Ranch my home. You’d better figure out how to tolerate my presence.”

  The truck engine roared, and Daniel gave her a grin. “’Cause come Christmas Day, I’ll be a permanent fixture in your life. And it’s gonna be a long fifty years if we can’t even say good morning without getting into an argument!”

  Then, without warning, he backed into a cloud of dust, turned sharply and headed up the road, leaving Willa behind.

  Chapter Three

  A mile inside the Blue Moon gate, Daniel came over a rise and saw the Mercado ranch house sitting off to his right. Easing off the gas and unclenching his jaw, he slowed down for a good look at Willa’s home.

  He’d gleaned a little of the ranch history from the attorney and the Internet, enough to know that Rafael Mercado from Mexico had taken possession of the land in the 1840s, back when Indian attacks were an ever-present threat. The tall, defensive wall Rafael had first built around the house had been lowered in the twentieth century to reveal the courtyard, filled with mature live oak trees, which surrounded the villa inside. A series of white-colu
mned arches created a wide veranda along the two-story front wing of the house. Two side wings stretched back at right angles to form a U-shape with another courtyard in the center. Green shutters framed the windows, a sharp contrast to the creamy white stucco walls.

  Daniel squeezed a whistle through his teeth. Willa had a right to be protective—this was quite a showplace. He could imagine how much maintenance work would be involved in caring for such a property. Around the house stretched ten thousand acres of the Wild Horse Desert, where she bred and raised longhorn cattle. No doubt about it, the woman carried a heavy burden. And since her husband had died, she’d carried it alone.

  At the sound of her truck rumbling up behind him, he squeezed the accelerator and pulled away fast enough to spray gravel as he fishtailed on his way. The last thing he needed was another “get lost” lecture. She’d made her point and it was a sharp one, especially after last night’s pleasure.

  Following the winding, hilly road farther into the Blue Moon, he saw the barns, corrals and utility buildings that formed the heart of the ranching operation. Miles of wire fencing defined the pastures, which alternated between cultivated range land and the scrubby shrubs and natural grasses native to south Texas. The wild landscape held a beauty all its own, however, especially on the morning after rainstorms had cleared the dust from the air. Daniel appreciated the wide blue Texas sky, the varied shapes of the trees and cacti and bushes, the freshness of the wind.

  There was no sign to tell him when he crossed onto his own property, just a line on the map the attorney had provided. The terrain didn’t change. There were fences, and cattle…although he was sure Willa would have those rounded up and removed soon enough. She wouldn’t want to leave any of her property under his control.

  As he came over the top of yet another hill, he realized he’d reached his destination—the foreman’s cottage he’d be living in. Sited on a bare stretch of ground with only a few prickly shrubs to soften the sandy dirt, the house lacked any evidence of architectural imagination. An uncovered stoop anchored the cement-block structure, its plain front door painted a dull gray like the rest of the building. Daniel pulled into the shade of the carport attached to the side of the house and sighed as he switched off the engine. For the first time since beginning this crazy venture, he felt a little daunted.

  Inside, the rooms were clean, bare and equally uninspiring. Willa hadn’t gone to any lengths to make him feel welcome.

  Outside once again, he drove toward the barn associated with his property, visible about a quarter of a mile away from the house. The weathered, metal-sided building, surrounded by dry, dusty corrals, did little to bolster his confidence that he could develop a functional ranching business in this place. He was stuck out here in the desert with scant practical knowledge, few ranching skills and no support.

  Maybe Willa would win, after all.

  Within the barn, years—decades, maybe—of discarded equipment loomed in the corners and cluttered the aisle between stalls, which appeared to have not been cleaned for about the same amount of time. What would he do with all this space once he got it cleared out? His first task, he guessed, would be to hire a foreman. Somebody with in-depth experience, somebody who knew what the hell was supposed to happen next.

  What actually happened next was that somewhere, in a far corner of the cavernous building, someone sneezed.

  “Hello?” Daniel welcomed the prospect of a trespasser to take his mind off the mess he’d gotten himself into. “Who’s there?”

  When no one answered, he walked down the aisle, peering into the stalls as he went. “Come on…I heard you. Do I have to say gesundheit before you make an appearance? Consider it said.”

  He stopped by a narrow wooden ladder leading to the loft above the main floor and waited, without result. Then, a minute later, came another sneeze. And another. And yet a fourth.

  “Bless you.” Daniel leaned his shoulder against a stall door to take the weight off his aching leg. “I’m not leaving, so you can stay hidden and sneeze your brains out or join me in the fresh air.”

  A revealing scuffle came from overhead. He looked up and found a face looking down at him over the edge of the loft.

  “You can’t really sneeze your brains out.” Under a pint-sized Resistol cowboy hat, the boy was about ten, with dark eyes, nut-brown skin and shiny black hair.

  “Are you sure?” Daniel couldn’t mistake the kid’s resemblance to Willa. This must be the youngest boy. Toby, right?

  “Yeah. It just feels that way.” The face disappeared, to be replaced by a pair of boots reaching for the top rung of the ladder. In the next second, the kid landed with a thud on the barn floor. He turned around to confront Daniel, his hands propped on his hips and his eyebrows drawn together. In his hat, his well-worn blue-checked shirt and his weathered jeans, he looked like a miniature cowpoke. “You must be the new guy.”

  “I must be. My name’s Daniel Trent.”

  The boy gave a single nod, like an aristocrat acknowledging a peasant. “I’m Toby Mercado. This is my ranch.”

  Daniel decided not to dispute the issue at that moment. “It’s a nice place, from what I’ve seen so far.” He looked around them and shrugged. “Although this doesn’t look exactly encouraging.”

  Toby nodded. “We haven’t used this barn for a long time, not since our foreman got his own land and decided to live there. You’ll have to bring in your own equipment.”

  “What kind of equipment?”

  The dark eyes went round. “Man, you need tractors and seeders and spreaders and rakes and chains and trailers. You need tools for building and mending fences, just for starters. How many head do you have coming?”

  That would refer to cattle, Daniel assumed. “How many do you think I should have?”

  Toby gave him a look of pure disdain. “Don’t you know anything?”

  “Sure. But I’m new to the ranch business. I’ve got a lot to learn.”

  The boy shook his head in disgust. “You’re telling me.”

  “Speaking of learning…” Daniel glanced at his watch. “It’s noon on a Tuesday afternoon. Shouldn’t you be in school?”

  Scuffing the dirt floor with one toe, Toby avoided his eyes. “Nah.”

  “There’s no school today?”

  Hands in his jeans pockets, Toby shrugged, still staring at the ground.

  “I guess that means you’re playing hooky.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Skipping school. Cutting class.”

  “Oh.” Another shrug, and then another sneeze. “School’s useless.”

  “Why is that?”

  “’Cause when I grow up I’m gonna run this ranch, just like my dad did. I don’t need school for that. I can learn what I have to know staying home, working with my mom and the hands.”

  “Did your dad go to school?”

  Toby looked up at him with a surprised expression. “I don’t know.” And sneezed again.

  Daniel nodded. “You should ask your mom about that. I’ll take you home so you can talk to her.” He turned toward the barn door, but the boy hung back.

  “She’s gonna be mad.”

  “Probably. I imagine she likes to know where you are during the day.”

  Toby hung his head and sniffed. “I’m in big trouble.”

  After letting him anticipate the worst for a minute, Daniel put a hand on his shoulder to move him forward. “You might as well face the inevitable like a man. Get it over with.”

  “What’s in-inevble?”

  “Something you can’t avoid.”

  “Oh.” He sighed. Sneezed. “Yeah.”

  Once they were in the truck and headed back to Willa’s house, Daniel said, “How’d you get out of going to school, anyway? Do your brother and sister know you’re not there?”

  “I said I was sick this morning. Once Robbie and Susannah left and Lili and Rosa were in the garden, I just went out the front door.” He shrugged. “No big deal.”

 
“Pretty slick.” But Daniel had a feeling Willa would think it was a very big deal, indeed.

  After a minute of silence, Toby said, “So what did you do to your leg?”

  “My truck hit a landmine in Iraq.” After eighteen months, he could say it without gritting his teeth.

  Toby looked out the side window. “That’s what happened to my dad.” His voice was subdued. “He died.”

  “I know. I’m sorry. Three of my friends got killed when I was hurt.”

  After a minute, Toby glanced at the hand controls Daniel used to drive the truck. “Do you mind having a…a limp?”

  An honest question deserved an honest answer. “Well, what would you think, if you couldn’t play ball anymore—very well, anyway—or sit down easily, walk smoothly or stand up for a long time without your leg feeling like it was on fire?”

  “I’d hate it.”

  “Sometimes I do. But at least I came home.”

  “You were lucky.”

  “Yeah, I was.”

  He could hear other questions seething in Toby’s brain, but the boy didn’t give voice to his thoughts. They rode down the driveway of the ranch house without another word. Once Daniel stopped the truck, Toby took a deep breath and wrapped his fingers around the door handle. “Thanks for the ride. I—”

  Before he could finish, the door was yanked open from the outside. Willa stood there, clearly furious.

  “Tobias Rafael Mercado, where have you been? What do you mean, sneaking off without telling anyone? You’re not too old for a spanking, mister, and this may just be the day you get one.”

  She grabbed his arm and pulled him off the truck seat to stand in front of her. Bending down, she looked him straight in the eye. “Lili and Rosa have been worried sick, Toby. Why would you do something like this to them?”

  Toby had adopted the toe-scuffing technique again. One shoulder lifted in a shrug.

  Straightening up, Willa blew out a short breath. “We’ll talk later. Go to your room…and stay there.” The boy turned to start for the house, but she put a hand under his chin and made him look up at her. “Do you understand, Toby? Do not leave your room.”