Christmas at Blue Moon Ranch

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Christmas at Blue Moon Ranch Page 11

by Lynnette Kent


  Nate Hernandez was her last chance, and Rosa was determined to see her sister’s hopeless dream come true. But she wasn’t a fairy godmother and she didn’t have a magic wand. Somehow she would have to get the two of them, Nate and Lili, to cooperate in their own happy ending. Or else they really didn’t deserve one.

  CARRYING PLATES AND GLASSES, Willa and Daniel found an empty bench in the lobby outside the ballroom. He gave a low groan as he sat down.

  Willa frowned at him. “Maybe you should have brought the cane, after all.”

  He shifted his hips, easing the stiff leg, and gave her a rueful glance. “Maybe.”

  “Even cowboys get hurt now and then.”

  “I noticed. Eat your cream puff.”

  Willa realized she hadn’t been this hungry in days. Weeks, maybe. She didn’t stop until her plate was empty. “They always have great food at this party.”

  “I’m glad you came. Rosa told me you almost stayed home.”

  “You talked to her about it?”

  “Well, there wasn’t much point in being here if you weren’t.”

  She gazed at him, speechless once again.

  He clinked his champagne glass against hers. “So, I’ve heard a good deal about the Mercado legacy, one way or another. What about your family? Did you grow up on a ranch?”

  “Yes. Yes, I did.” She looked down at her own glass, then took a long sip. “We had a small place not too far from the Blue Moon.”

  “Did you raise cattle? Horses? Rattlesnakes?”

  She gave an unwilling laugh. “Cattle. And rattlers. I must’ve killed hundreds before I got out of high school.”

  “That makes you a good shot.”

  “Yes, it does.”

  When she didn’t volunteer anything else, he said, “Do your parents still live on that ranch?”

  “Um…no. They sold off the land and moved away. We…” She took a deep breath. “We don’t see them much.”

  “Do you have brothers and sisters?”

  “I was the only child.”

  “Me, too. My parents were in their forties when I was born. I was a surprise, to say the least.”

  “A good one, I hope.”

  “Yeah, we were close. They died within a couple of months of each other six years ago.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Thanks. So where did your parents move to?”

  Here was the question, and answer, she dreaded. “My mother moved to Florida. My dad went to California.” After a pause, she finished the explanation. “They had to get married, because she was pregnant. They stayed married only because of me. As soon as I got engaged to Jamie, even before the wedding, they divorced. As far as I know, they haven’t spoken to each other since.”

  “Man, that’s tough. I’m sorry.”

  She shook her head. “They weren’t abusive, or mean. There just wasn’t any love in the house. My dad slept around. My mother read the Bible a lot. I assume they’re happier now.”

  “And you were happy with Jamie.”

  “Most of the time.” She hadn’t meant to say that. “I mean…every marriage has rough spots. We were good, overall.”

  “Except you couldn’t trust him.”

  She put up a hand in protest. “Jamie never cheated on me.”

  “Not with other women. But…”

  The understanding in his face allowed her to finish the sentence. “But I never could trust him with money. And, in the end, with his own life.”

  “A lot of people went into the military after the September 11 attacks. Maybe he felt compelled to defend his country.”

  “But he was my husband and I…we…needed him here. I wanted him here.”

  His gaze searched her face, as his warm hand covered hers. “Willa—”

  “Well, there you two are!” Bev’s voice carried all the way across the lobby. “I thought you’d ducked out on me completely.”

  In the second before he turned away, Daniel’s face changed from concerned and caring to a smooth, impersonal mask. “We wouldn’t do that. Is this our dance?” He stood up, and Willa was close enough to see the effort it cost him to make the smooth movement.

  “That it is, cowboy.” Bev grabbed his free hand. “Come on and take me in your arms.”

  Willa reached for the glass he still held. “Have fun, kids.” Without waiting to watch them go, she picked up her champagne glass and drained it, then finished off Daniel’s, too, and went to find her aunts.

  The sisters stood together, watching the dancing, and both of them looked tired, maybe even despondent. Willa stepped between them and put an arm around each slender waist.

  “What do you think? Is it time to go home?”

  Lili looked at her and nodded. “I think so.”

  “Are you sure?” Rosa searched Willa’s face. “Perhaps you should wait and dance some more…” She turned to scan the crowd, which parted at that moment to give them a good view of Daniel, with Bev hanging all over him. He didn’t appear to mind.

  “I’m definitely ready to go,” Willa said.

  Rosa sighed, and her shoulders drooped. “I suppose you are.”

  In only a matter of minutes, Willa had collected their purses and jackets and given the valet the ticket for her truck. Then the three of them slipped out of the hotel without saying goodbye to a soul.

  TWO HOURS LATER, WILLA ANSWERED a knock on her front door to find Daniel standing on the veranda.

  “You didn’t wait until midnight,” he said. “And you didn’t leave a glass slipper behind.”

  She crossed one bare foot over the other. “I could use one. This tile is cold.”

  “So ask me in.”

  “Daniel—”

  “Or not.” Before she could think, or even breathe, he wrapped the tie of her flannel robe around one hand and jerked her up against him. He shut the door behind her with his other hand, and then closed both arms hard around her waist.

  “This,” he said in a rough voice, “is how the night was supposed to end.”

  Daniel’s hungry mouth came down on hers, and Willa stopped fighting herself. She leaned into him, folding her arms across his shoulders, answering his demands with her own. He responded with a low growl, pressing against her until she felt the resistance of the heavy oak door at her back. She was trapped, and she didn’t care.

  He ran his hands over her hips and up her back to her shoulders, then combed his fingers through her hair. His lips roamed her face, her ears, and settled on the pulse under her jaw.

  “I’ve missed you, Willa.” His whisper set off shivers along her backbone. “Every night in my bed, I’ve missed you.”

  “Daniel.” She cupped her hands on his cheeks and brought his mouth back to hers. The words were locked inside of her, but she used her hands to convey the feelings, dragging his shirt-tail out of his jeans, sweeping her palms over the ruined skin of his back.

  Crazed kisses, the sweet slide of skin against skin…just the glory of wanting and being wanted sent Willa over the edge. Before she even realized what was happening, with her feet on the ground and layers of clothing still between them, her body exploded with pleasure. She clutched Daniel’s shoulders, her breath caught in her throat, as waves of release rolled through her.

  “Oh, God.” She filled her lungs, finally, dropping her head back against the door. “I’m sorry. So sorry.”

  Daniel tightened his hold. “I’m not. That was fantastic.”

  She opened her eyes to give him a skeptical look.

  He shrugged a shoulder. “I’m okay. Just touching you makes this the best day I’ve had in a month.”

  “You are a strange man.”

  Occupied with rebuttoning her pajama top and retying her robe, he didn’t look up. “Why?”

  “Most men consider their own climax the, um, main event. However long it takes.”

  “Or not.” Daniel grinned. “I can be as selfish as the next guy. But not tonight. Not with you.” Holding her shoulders, he lowered his hea
d and kissed her gently, thoroughly, sealing the memory of his passion into her heart and soul.

  Then he let her go. “Are you locked out of the house?”

  Willa shook her head and opened the door.

  “Then get inside and get warm. Your feet must be freezing.”

  She shook her head as she backed into the house. “Not at all. I feel…wonderful.”

  His white teeth gleamed in the night. “Good. Sleep well, Willa.”

  “Good night, Daniel.” She watched him walk to his truck, the limp more pronounced than when he’d entered the ballroom earlier in the evening. He gave her a wave before starting the engine, and then drove away, up the road toward his house.

  I should have gone with him, Willa thought.

  Then she shook her head. She didn’t want to sneak around, worrying about the kids or the aunts or the hands finding out. When the time had come for her to be with Daniel again, she would know.

  At least tonight, she could fall asleep remembering his kisses, and his hands on her skin…a guarantee of sweet dreams.

  WITH HIS BODY STILL BUZZING from the encounter with Willa, Daniel couldn’t just walk into the house and fall asleep. He went for a drive, instead, visiting the pastures and the cattle he called his own. Sitting on the hood of the truck, hunched into his jacket against the chilly night, he stared at the Texas-sized sky, filled with brilliant twinkling stars, and thought about the woman he loved. How long would it take Willa to realize that she loved him, too?

  A flash of light caught his eye—the twin beams of a truck’s headlights coming out of the east and the darkness of the Wild Horse Desert, traveling where no road existed.

  There wasn’t much he could do, from this distance and with no backup, so Daniel resorted to the only weapon he had. He turned on his own truck’s high beam lamps. Grinning, he watched the white beams in the distance wheel through the air, then vanish, to be replaced by winking red taillights. In seconds, the intruders had disappeared.

  His grin faded, though, on the drive back to the house. No doubt about it—the rustlers had discovered his cattle. Sooner or later, they’d attempt to make off with his animals. Short of posting a twenty-four-hour guard, he wasn’t sure how he would stop them.

  He stood watch by himself on Sunday, sitting on that same hill in his truck, with a loaded rifle, a loaded picnic basket on the passenger seat and the latest techno-thriller paperback propped on the steering wheel to pass the time.

  Monday morning, he detailed two of the hands to ride the perimeter fences, looking for any breaks or cuts. When Willa drove up with Rob, Daniel approached her side of the truck. She rolled down the window right away, he was pleased to see. Her cheeks were flushed and her smile bashful as she looked at him.

  “Good morning.” He propped an arm above the window. “How was your Sunday?”

  “Peaceful.” Finally, after all these weeks, she gave him the smile he’d set out to earn that very first evening. He nearly forgot everything else in his enjoyment of Willa’s beautiful smile.

  Then Rob slammed the passenger door getting out of the truck, and Daniel came back to reality.

  “I’m glad to hear it,” he said. “But I’ve got some bad news.” He hated seeing her face change. “I saw headlights out beyond my fence line Saturday night. I’m pretty sure the rustlers are back.”

  Willa hit the steering wheel with the side of her fist. “Have you called the sheriff?”

  He shook his head. “There’s not much to report, so far. I saw some headlights, which could have been kids four-wheeling at night. I’ve got hands riding the fence line now. If they find any manmade breaks, then I’ll let Sutton know.”

  “I guess that’s reasonable.” She took a deep breath. “I wish we could catch these guys and put them away.”

  “I’ll work on that.” He grazed his knuckles along her cheek and smiled when her eyes and mouth softened. “Meanwhile, don’t fret about it. You’ve got what you wanted—a buffer on your north side.”

  Willa’s smile faded quickly. “I wanted to tell you—Robbie won’t be working on Friday.”

  “Getting ready for the rodeo?”

  She shook her head. “El Día de los Muertos. The Day of the Dead, when we celebrate and remember family who are gone.”

  “Okay.” Daniel took a breath and a step back from the truck. Somehow, the idea of Willa spending a day remembering her husband seemed to put him at a disadvantage. But he’d be a jerk to complain. “I won’t expect to see either of you on Friday.”

  He started to turn away.

  “Would you like to come?” Willa called after him, and Daniel pivoted back. “For dinner,” she clarified. “Come for dinner Friday night.” She looked almost as surprised at her invitation as he was.

  But he wouldn’t allow her time for second thoughts. “I’ll be there!”

  Chapter Ten

  Monday afternoon, offerings started to appear on the table beneath Jamie’s portrait—a fat ivory candle, a vase of brilliant orange marigolds from the garden, a soft white linen cloth and a crystal bowl of rose-scented water. Rosa’s famous pan de muerto, a bread made with orange and anise flavoring, perfumed the whole house on Wednesday, which was Halloween. Lili prepared atol, a fruit drink made with corn, and set out a pitcher with glasses. Willa had ordered candies shaped like skulls from a store in town. With the addition of more candles, food and personal mementoes, plus yellow, blue and red ribbons, the Mercado family altar was prepared.

  Friday evening, Willa watched as Daniel surveyed their creation. “Corona beer?” he asked with a quizzical look.

  “Jamie’s favorite.”

  “And Santa Clara Cigars?”

  She shrugged. “He and his father enjoyed a smoke together now and then.”

  Susannah came into the parlor carrying a plate. “These are pumpkin cookies,” she told Daniel. “Daddy liked them warm out of the oven, Aunt Rosa says.” Willa moved some of the other items slightly so Susannah could set her cookies down. “I made them myself this year.”

  “And they smell delicious.” Daniel snapped his fingers. “Hey—are you the person we have to thank for the boxes of treats showing up on my doorstep? Did you make the brownies, and the cookies and the pie?”

  Eyes shining, cheeks flushed, Susannah nodded.

  Willa crossed her arms and lifted an eyebrow. “So there hasn’t been a bake sale every day at school, hmm?”

  “Um…no.” Susannah looked at Daniel again. “Did you like them?”

  “Every last bite. Thank you very much.”

  Toby dashed into the room, with Robbie following more slowly. “Is it time, Mom? Is it time?”

  “Almost.” She noticed Robbie had stopped at the doorway, where he stood with a scowl on his face. “Come in, Roberto. Did you have something to add to the altar?”

  He shook his head and turned toward the back of the house, but she reached him and grasped his shoulder before he could disappear. “What have you brought?”

  His face turned dark red as he showed her the gift he carried—a pouch of tooled leather, incised with natural symbols including suns, moons, stars and birds. “Roberto, this is beautiful! Did you make it?”

  Keeping his gaze averted, he nodded. “In art class.”

  “For your dad? Oh, son…” Tears clogged her throat. Willa put her arms around him. “He’ll be so pleased,” she whispered. “Place it on the altar.”

  Daniel watched as Rob went to put the pouch with the other offerings. The boy avoided him as if he were a rabid dog that would bite if approached too closely. Maybe he shouldn’t have come tonight, after all. He hated to think his presence spoiled the occasion.

  The aunts brought in a feast of food and filled his plate. “Chicken mole,” Lili announced as she served him. “Jamie’s favorite recipe.”

  “My special tamales.” Rosa gave him three. “I only make them a few times a year.”

  After taking a bite, Daniel nodded. “Something this delicious should only be served on
very special occasions.”

  He hadn’t known exactly what to expect tonight, but he discovered that El Día de los Muertos was far from a sad occasion. Toby clowned around, as usual. Cheerful music played on the whole-house sound system—Jamie’s pride and joy, Willa told him—and Susannah sang along in Spanish when she knew the words.

  Rosa and Lili told stories about their brother, Jamie’s father and his wife, and about their parents. “Papa was strict,” Rosa recalled. “We got a television when they were first available, but we were not allowed to watch at all on Sundays.”

  “I remember when Elvis appeared on television.” Lili made a prim face. “Papa wouldn’t let us watch him. He said Elvis was ‘rude.’” She and Rosa dissolved into laughter.

  Toby looked at them with a confused expression. “Elvis? What’s Elvis?”

  Stories about Jamie Mercado gradually wove into the conversation. “I remember him as a toddler,” Lili said. “Jamie would ride on the saddle in front of his father as he worked the cattle. By the time Jamie was six, he was herding from his own pony with the rest of the hands.”

  Daniel thought of his first, disastrous attempt at driving cattle.

  “And the tricks he could do with that pony—Figaro was his name. Figaro would gallop across the ground and Jamie would stand up on the saddle, keeping his balance as easily as if he stood on the ground.”

  Willa looked at Toby, sitting on the floor by her feet. “A trick I do not want you to try under any circumstances.”

  Toby hung his head. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I remember Daddy at a rodeo.” Susannah turned to Willa. “You were surprised, weren’t you, Mama, when he entered the bull riding contest?”

  “Yes, I was surprised.” Willa’s smile looked a little forced. “Toby was just a baby, then. I’m surprised you remember that far back, honey.”

  “Did he win?” Toby demanded. “Was he good?”

 

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