by Janet Dailey
As she walked around the car to help her brother, he tried to picture her as the singer who’d knocked him out with her glamour. The long black wig, the makeup, the boots . . . yes, she could pull it off. But the real Megan was so different from the figure he still thought of as his dream woman.
Last night, both versions had been in and out of his dreams. This morning, as she walked toward him with her brother, he could feel the attraction pulsing through his body like an electric current—but was it for bright, wholesome Megan or her sizzling-hot secret identity?
Daniel was wearing the sling over his blue parka. His grin widened as he spotted Conner. “I’m all yours,” he said. “Just tell me what to do.”
Conner forced his attention away from Megan to focus on her brother. “First let’s get you outfitted. Take off your cap.”
Daniel took off his knitted cap and handed it to Megan. Conner pulled out the Santa hat he’d stuffed into his pocket earlier and fitted it on Daniel’s head. “There. Now you’re one of Santa’s helpers. For the time being, you can stand over here by the corner of the house and wish people ‘Merry Christmas.’ Make sure they know that all the trees are the same price—thirty-five dollars—and that the cocoa and marshmallows are free. If they ask about a sleigh ride, have them talk to Travis or Rush, or to me, if I’m not out on the trail. Got it?”
“Got it,” Daniel said. “I talk to people in the store all the time. I’ll do you a good job.”
“If you get tired, you can take a break and rest by the fire,” Conner said. “The bathroom’s in the house. If you need it, just go in. You don’t have to ask.”
He felt a tug at his sleeve. Clara was looking up at him with that heart-melting gaze of hers. “I’m big enough to help,” she said. “I want a job, too.”
“Great.” Conner thought fast. Having something to do would help keep the curious little girl out of trouble. “How about you stand next to Daniel, here, and help him greet people?”
“Okay.” She smiled up at Daniel and offered a hand. “Hi. My name is Clara. I saw you in the store last summer. You were nice, I remember.”
“You did.” Daniel shook her hand. “I remember you, too. If you’re going to help, you’ll need a Santa hat like mine.”
“I just happen to have another one.” Conner pulled one more hat out of his deep pocket and placed it on Clara’s head, pulling the edges down over her ears. She and Daniel walked off together to take their places by the house. They were already talking and laughing like friends.
“My brother is great with kids,” Megan said. “Don’t worry, he’ll look out for her.”
“I wasn’t worried. I can tell they’ll be fine.” Conner realized he was alone with Megan for the moment—a moment he couldn’t afford to waste. “I was hoping you’d come so I could see you again. Thanks for bringing Daniel to help out.”
“Actually, you’re getting two for the price of one,” Megan said. “My mother was pretty upset about Daniel’s accident. She said the only way she’d let him come here this morning was if I stayed. So I hope you have a job for me, too.”
Conner restrained a whoop of elation. Maybe today was going to turn out all right after all. “I do have a job, if you wouldn’t mind,” he said. “One of the two kids who helps with the cocoa and marshmallow roasting called in sick. His friend’s here, doing the job alone. When folks start coming in, he’s going to have his hands full. He could use some help. We’d pay you, of course. We don’t ask anybody to work for nothing.”
She gave him a smile—familiar because he’d seen those dimples on the face of his so-called dream woman at last year’s Christmas Ball. That smile was one thing Megan couldn’t change. “Sure,” she said. “But don’t even think about paying me. I’m only here for fun, and to keep an eye on Daniel. I just have one question.”
“What’s that?” he asked.
She laughed. “Where’s my Santa hat?”
“Come on,” he said. “I’ll get you one.”
* * *
By early afternoon, business was booming. Families were coming to buy trees, enjoy hot cocoa, and toast marshmallows on sharpened green willow sticks. Some of them sat on the circle of low benches around the fire pit, keeping warm while they waited for their turn to ride in the sleigh.
Wearing the Santa hat Conner had found for her, Megan ladled hot cocoa into insulated cups, added a couple of miniature marshmallows to each one, and passed them around the circle. She was having a good time. The weather was perfect, the people happy and friendly. Warren, the high-school boy who was handling the fire and the marshmallow sticks, was an easygoing cowboy type who also helped with the ranch’s hay harvest in the summer.
Around the yard, everyone was busy. Travis was hauling trees to vehicles. Rush, seated at a table on the porch, was handling the cash and credit card payments. Conner was off driving the sleigh, but the distant jingle of sleigh bells told Megan he would soon be pulling up alongside the driveway to unload and load passengers. His gaze would find hers across the crowded yard, and he would give her a quick smile before turning his attention back to his work.
Did he mean anything by those smiles? Was he flirting, or just being Conner? She’d be a fool to read anything into his actions. Conner was a player. Charming every woman he met—including her—was second nature to him.
Daniel and Clara stood at the corner of the house, smiling and welcoming the visitors. Bucket, wearing his own doggy-style Santa hat, stood at Clara’s side, enjoying his share of pats and attention.
The ranch seemed like a happy place, Megan observed as she mixed more cocoa and set the pan on the portable stove to heat. As she’d learned, until last summer, all three partners had lived here. But Rush now lived in town with Tracy, and soon, after their wedding, Travis would be moving in with Maggie. That would leave Conner here alone.
What would it be like to live here? The old house could use some fixing up, inside and out, but the view of the pastures and the hills beyond was beautiful. The location was good, too—close enough to town to get there for work or for helping her family. And waking up next to Conner every morning wouldn’t be all bad, either . . .
The cocoa, she suddenly realized, was about to boil over. Megan grabbed the pan and shifted it off the burner. The metal handle seared her fingers, shocking her back to reality. She thrust her hand into a nearby snowbank. Fighting tears, she forced herself to hold it there for several minutes while the cold eased the pain.
What kind of temporary insanity had driven her to imagine living here with Conner? The whole idea was ridiculous. Even if she’d wanted him, which she most certainly didn’t, Conner would only have her if she put on her wig and makeup and became full-time Lacy!
“Megan, what happened?” Conner’s voice startled her. She hadn’t heard the sleigh arrive, but now he was here, standing right behind her.
“It’s nothing,” she said. “Just burned my fingers a little. I should’ve used a pot holder on that darned pan.”
“Let’s see.” He lifted her hand and studied the red streak across her fingers. “Nasty little burn, but it doesn’t seem to have blistered. It could be worse. I’ve got some first-aid spray in the house that’ll numb the pain.”
“Shouldn’t you be loading the sleigh?” she asked.
“Break time. We ordered some pizzas and smuggled them in through the back door. The kids are already inside, chowing down. You must be hungry, too.”
Megan looked across the yard. Daniel, Clara, and the dog were gone. “Don’t worry, they’re fine,” Conner said. “You must be ready for a break, too. Come on. Warren’s already grabbed his share of pizza, and Rush will be staying out here. They can look after the customers. Right now, we need to take care of that burn.”
He took her arm to balance her on the slippery steps, keeping his clasp light as they crossed the porch and entered the house. “Wait here,” he said, leaving her to warm herself by the potbellied stove. “I’ll get that spray.”
Megan had
n’t been inside the ranch house until now. The interior bordered on shabby, but there was a cozy feeling about the place—the worn, overstuffed furniture, the maps and rodeo posters on the walls, the threadbare Native American rug on the living-room floor.
In the kitchen, Travis, Daniel, and Clara sat around a scarred wooden table on mismatched chairs, the three of them laughing, talking, and wolfing down generous helpings of pepperoni pizza.
“Here we are.” Conner appeared from the hallway with a small aerosol canister. “Hold out your hand. This should make you feel better.” When Megan opened her hand, he sprayed the burn with a mist that left a cold tingle. “How’s that? Will you be okay to work? I don’t want you hurting.”
Megan wiggled her fingers. “It feels better already. I should be fine.”
“Good. Let me know if the pain gets worse.” He set the canister on the kitchen counter. “Now let’s have some pizza before this crew finishes it all off.” There were two empty chairs. He pulled one out for Megan and took the other for himself. “Eat your fill. We’ve got a long, busy afternoon ahead of us.”
“What time do you usually close?” Megan asked, reaching for a slice of pizza.
“If the weather holds and the customers keep coming, we stay open until nine,” Conner said. “But you’re a volunteer. You can leave anytime you feel like you’ve had enough.”
“This isn’t about me,” Megan said. “I’m having a good time, and I don’t mind staying. But Daniel will be tired. I might need to take him home early.”
“Rush will be taking Clara home around five,” Travis said. “If you want to stay and help out, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind dropping Daniel off.”
“We’ll see how it goes.” Megan glanced at her brother. “All right, Daniel? Are you getting tired yet?”
“Nope. Not a bit.” Daniel reached under the table to give Bucket a slice of pepperoni. He was having a good time, but Megan could tell her brother was flagging. His eyelids were drooping and he was fidgeting with his sling, a sign his shoulder was hurting. She would need to watch him and make sure he made it home before he got too cold or tired. Otherwise, he could end up sick tomorrow.
Clara had finished her pizza. “Let’s go back outside, Daniel,” she said, getting up.
“Okay.” Daniel stuffed the last of his pizza in his mouth and followed her out the door.
“He’s a great kid, Megan,” Travis said. “I’ve seen how hard he works to do a good job. And Clara’s really taken to him.”
“I know,” Megan said, “but Daniel’s hardly a kid. He’s twenty-four. Sometimes I have to remind myself of that—especially when he tries to be a man. He wants to drive and get a car so he can be independent. And he wants to marry his sweet little girlfriend.”
“That’s no more than any man deserves,” Conner said.
“I know. But for Daniel, it’s like reaching for the moon. Life can be so unfair.” Megan dabbed at an unexpected surge of tears. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get so emotional.”
* * *
Sitting across the table, Conner watched her. He’d seen women cry—especially the ones he’d broken up with. They used their tears to punish, to express loss or frustration, or to get what they wanted. The sight of a weeping female was nothing new to him. But this was the first time he’d seen a woman cry out of pure love and concern for someone else.
Megan’s tears had a strangely moving effect on him. It was all he could do to keep from getting up, walking around the table, and gathering her into his arms.
The image of his dream woman—bold, glamorous, and over-the-top sexy—paled in his mind. She was a fantasy, a stage act. But the woman sitting across the table from him—tender, compassionate Megan—was real. She was flesh and blood, heart and pure soul.
Between the two, there was no comparison.
But after the thoughtless things he’d said to her, how was he going to convince Megan of that?
Conner’s musings were interrupted by the opening of the front door. “Hey!” Rush stuck his head inside. “We’ve got a crowd out here. You guys need to get moving.”
“Coming.” Conner pushed away from the table and followed Travis and Megan back outside.
* * *
By the end of the afternoon, Daniel was tired enough to leave with Rush and Clara. Megan watched the Hummer pull out of the driveway and head down the lane. The day had gone well. Her brother had enjoyed himself and earned extra Christmas spending money. Conner and his partners had treated him like a valued member of the team, and little Clara had given him her trust and friendship. He would be talking about this experience for days to come.
Megan was tired, too. She could have left and taken Daniel home herself. By now, she could be relaxing with her feet up, sipping herbal tea and reading a good book. But here she was, ignoring her weary feet, smiling as she chatted with customers and filled cup after cup of hot cocoa. She would be seeing those little floating marshmallows in her dreams tonight.
At least the burn on her fingers didn’t hurt much. Conner’s first-aid spray had taken care of the pain. But with people still coming in through the ranch gate, the work showed no sign of letting up.
By now, it was getting dark and cold. Conner had hung lanterns on the sleigh. Megan could see the approaching lights and hear the cheery jingle of sleigh bells as he returned from one more run. Stopping next to the house, he helped unload his passengers. Then, signaling for a break, he strode over to the fire.
“How are you holding up?” he asked Megan as he stripped off his gloves and held his hands to the heat.
“Fine. Want some cocoa?”
“Sure. No marshmallows.” He took the cup she handed him, his cold fingers brushing hers. “How’s the burn?”
“Not bad.”
“You don’t have to stay, you know.”
“I don’t mind, really.” Megan handed two cups to the older couple who’d just taken a seat by the fire.
“I’m going to owe you dinner for this—and not just at Buckaroo’s. There’s a nice restaurant on the way to Cottonwood Springs. Best steaks you ever tasted. We could go tomorrow if you’re free.”
Megan’s pulse skipped. Was the man actually asking her out on a date? “Aren’t you working tomorrow?” she asked.
He shook his head. “We decided to close on Sunday this year. Good idea, I think. We could use the break. So could the horses. And people can buy trees the rest of the week. So, are we good for dinner?”
She hesitated, but only for an instant. “That sounds fine,” she said.
“Great. If you’re still here when we close, we can make plans. If not, I’ll call you.” He glanced back toward the sleigh, where the next family was waiting for their ride. “Gotta go now.” He turned away and strode back across the yard.
* * *
By 8:15, a chilly wind had sprung up, and the stream of customers had dwindled to an end. Before leaving, Warren doused the fire in the pit, bundled up the willow sticks, and boxed the remaining bags of marshmallows. Following his example, Megan turned off the portable stove and covered it, put away the leftover cups, and washed the pan and ladle in the kitchen.
She was worn-out, but she’d stayed on the job. Was it to prove to herself, and maybe to Conner, that she could? Or was she acting on some deeper need?
She was attracted to Conner—now more than ever, after seeing how kindly he’d treated her brother. But she’d be a fool to think the attraction was mutual. True, he’d just asked her out. But that was only because he felt obligated to thank her for her help today. He’d made it clear enough that his type was glamorous Lacy—not a mousy little kindergarten teacher.
“Take a chance.” That was the challenge he’d flung at her. But Conner Branch was heartbreak on the hoof. Throw her heart into the arena and she was bound to get it trampled.
Common sense told her to run while she still could. But she was still here.
So, what was she waiting for?
Chapter 8
&nbs
p; After the last sleigh ride of the evening, Conner unloaded his passengers, then pulled around to the shed to unhitch the horses. He and Travis were pushing the sleigh under the cover of the shed as Maggie’s Lincoln Town Car pulled into the driveway. Clutching her down coat around her, Maggie climbed out and headed straight for Travis.
“You,” she said, planting a finger in the center of his chest. “You’re coming with me. Now. We need to talk.”
Conner looked amused. “Go on, Travis,” he said. “I can put the horses away. And don’t worry, I won’t plan to wait up for you.”
Megan had been standing nearby to keep Bucket out of the way. “What was that about?” she asked as the Lincoln pulled out of the driveway and sped away with Travis inside.
Conner chuckled. “They’re having a go-around about the wedding. Maggie wants her fancy affair with the whole town invited. Travis wants to keep it simple and private. My money’s on Maggie.”
“Oh, I agree with you,” Megan said. “The bride should have her day, any way she wants it. And Travis is being clueless. They can’t just cancel all those plans and elope.”
“That’s what I told Travis. And you’ve met Maggie, so you know her a little. She didn’t get to be mayor by being a doormat. When she gets her mind set on something, it’s ‘get in line’ or ‘get out of the way.’” Conner pulled a canvas tarp over the sleigh. “If you’re not in a hurry, maybe you can give me a hand with the horses. Would you mind?”
“I wouldn’t mind. But I haven’t been around horses much. You’ll need to tell me what to do,” Megan said.
“Don’t worry. Just follow me.”
After long hours of pulling the sleigh, the big Percherons were ready for a rest and a good meal. Bucket did his job, nipping at their heels to hurry them into the barn, but they needed no urging to return to their roomy box stalls for a helping of oats.
Conner tossed Megan a clean, dry towel. “Ever rub down a horse?”
