by Janet Dailey
After leaving a tip for the coffee, Megan walked out to her car and drove home. She felt emotionally drained. Even the Christmas music on the radio failed to lift her spirits. At least she understood where Ronda May was coming from and why she’d pushed Conner to marry her. But that didn’t help her own situation. Her relationship with Conner was as unsettled as ever.
Forget it for now, she told herself as she pulled into her parents’ driveway. She would bring her purchases inside, put away the groceries, check on her mother and Daniel, and then shut herself in her room with her guitar and work on her song. Maybe this time she’d come up with something good. Even if she didn’t, it would at least take her mind off her worries.
* * *
The next morning, she drove her brother to work. Daniel had been bored at home. He was eager to be back on the job, with people he knew and liked. He was especially happy about being around Katy again.
“Now remember,” Megan told him, “be careful lifting heavy bags. If your shoulder starts to hurt, stop and rest. If it doesn’t feel better, call me and I’ll come and get you.”
“I’ll be fine,” Daniel said. “Don’t worry.”
She was pulling up to the entrance to let him out when she saw the sign posted in the window: HELP WANTED. CUSTOMER SERVICE. APPLY INSIDE.
As Daniel hurried into the store, Megan stared at the sign, thinking. Ronda May needed a job. And she’d had plenty of experience dealing with customers. This position might be just the thing for her. Someone should tell her about it.
Someone who had her phone number.
Megan didn’t. But Conner did.
With a sigh, Megan pulled into a parking place, fished a pen and a scrap of paper out of her purse, and scrolled her phone to Conner’s number. She’d made it clear that she wouldn’t call him until she heard he’d settled things with Ronda May. But now, it seemed, Ronda May had become her concern, as well as his.
He picked up on the first ring. “Megan?” Even his voice triggered a ripple of awareness, like being lightly touched.
“Hi,” she said. “I know I promised not to call—”
“No—that’s all right. It was your idea, not mine. I’ve missed you. What’s up?”
The conversation was about to become awkward. “I ran into Ronda May at Shop Mart yesterday. I invited her for coffee and we had a nice talk.”
“Oh?” He was instantly on guard. “How did that go? Did the two of you dice me into pieces?”
“No. In fact, she said some nice things about you. I can’t say we’ve become friends, but at least we understand each other better.”
“And?”
“Here’s why I’m calling. I guess you know she lost her job.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I just let Daniel off at Shop Mart. There’s a Help Wanted sign in the window—they need somebody in customer service.”
He was silent for a moment. “Yeah, that would be right up her alley.”
“I want to let her know, but I don’t have her phone number. I’m guessing you do. I’ve got a pen here, if you don’t mind giving it to me.”
“Sure.” He rattled off the number, clearly from memory.
“If you’d rather call her yourself—”
“No, that’s fine. Go ahead.” He cleared his throat. “This isn’t how I wanted us to be, Megan. If you’ve talked with Ronda May, and if she was honest, you’ll know that we’re still friends. But that’s all, and it’s not going anywhere. She wants to get married, and I don’t—didn’t.” He corrected the slip. What was that supposed to mean?
“What she seems to think,” Megan said, “is that you’re in love with that singer who showed up at the ball last year—you know, your dream woman.”
“Fine. Let her think that. It doesn’t matter.” There was silence on the phone before he spoke again. “What matters is you and me. And, damn it, I’m not about to let Ronda May control our lives—trust me, that’s her way. I’ve seen it before. I miss you and I want to be with you—just you and nobody else. So let’s end this standoff. . . tonight.”
His words caught Megan off guard. She wanted him—wanted him so much, it hurt. But she could feel her emotions churning with unanswered questions. Things were moving too fast, like the twists and turns on a crazy amusement park ride. She needed time to stop and think about what she really wanted.
The truth was, she was tired of games. She’d passed beyond the need for cheap thrills and stolen kisses. She wanted something lasting, something real. She was ready for a lifetime relationship based on love and trust.
But was Conner? Or, if she gave him her heart, would she end up as bitterly disappointed as Ronda May?
Her womanly urges were shouting, Yes! But Conner’s “love ’em and leave ’em” track record gave her every reason to be cautious.
“What is it?” he asked. “Are you still worried about Ronda May?”
“I never really was,” Megan said. “I just need time to get my bearings.”
“You said you had a boyfriend.”
“Not anymore. I broke up with him. That’s just one reason why I need more time. Conner, I don’t know where you and I are headed, but if our relationship’s meant to go beyond a few casual dates, I want to do things right. Give me a few days, at least, to rewind, or change gears, or whatever I’m supposed to do at a time like this. Right now, I’m a mess.”
Unexpectedly, he laughed. “Megan, you may be the most honest woman I’ve ever met. I understand. But a few days is a lot of time to lose when you’ve got a job waiting in Nashville after the holidays.”
“I may have a job waiting—or I may not, since the man I broke up with is also my boss. And there’s also my family. I can tell how much they need me here. I’ve got some big decisions to make. And until I make them, I don’t need a handsome, charming cowboy muddling my brain.”
“If you’re talking about me, that might be the nicest compliment I ever received.” He sighed. “All right, how much time do you need?”
“Maybe a few days—I honestly don’t know.”
“Then how about this. The ranch has one more big weekend coming up, the last Saturday before the Christmas parade and ball. After that, business should slow down, with folks getting ready for the big town celebration. Today’s the ninth. It seems like a long time away, but I’ll have Sunday the fourteenth free. We could plan on some serious time then.” He paused. “Or I could come and find you where you are right now and kiss the living daylights out of you. Your choice.”
Megan suppressed a giggle. “Don’t tempt me,” she said. “Actually, the Sunday plan isn’t a bad idea.”
“Then we’ll go with that. You can expect a few calls between now and then. I know you’ll be doing some soul searching. If you’re not in the mood to talk to me, just say so. I won’t like it, but I’ll understand.”
“Thank you for that.”
“For understanding? Believe me, it isn’t easy. When it comes to getting what I want, I’m not a patient man—and I want you, Megan Carson.” Voices could be heard in the background. “Duty calls. Gotta go.”
After the call ended, she entered the number he’d given her for Ronda May. To her relief, she got the woman’s voicemail. Megan left a message about the job opening at Shop Mart, put her phone away, and headed out of the parking lot.
She’d told Conner she had some big decisions to make. But she hadn’t given him many details—like the conversation she’d had with her father about the teaching vacancy here in Branding Iron. It seemed she was finding more and more reasons to stay. One of those reasons was Conner.
But could she sacrifice the singing career she’d struggled so hard to build—the gigs that were just beginning to pay? And could she depend on Conner to be there for a long-term relationship?
“I want you, Megan Carson.” The memory of his words triggered a flush of heat. The man wasn’t one to beat around the bush—just one of the things she loved about him. And she did love him, she realized with a mild sho
ck. Whether she’d meant to or not, she’d fallen head over heels for the heart-melting cowboy.
But was what he felt for her real and lasting? Or would he forget her at the Christmas Ball, the moment Lacy Leatherwood, with her fake hair, high-heeled boots, and false eyelashes, strutted onto the stage?
* * *
When his cell rang again, Conner was restocking the tree display. His pulse kicked into high gear as he worked the phone out of his pocket. Maybe it was Megan. Maybe she’d changed her mind about waiting till Sunday.
But the caller wasn’t Megan. It was Ronda May.
“I need to talk to you, Conner.” He could tell she’d been crying. “Can I come out to the ranch? Or can you meet me somewhere?”
“I’m working, and my partners are here,” Conner said. “If you need to talk, I can spare you a few minutes on the phone. That’s the best I can offer right now.”
She sighed. “I guess that’ll have to do.”
“Fine, give me a minute to get somewhere private.” Both Conner’s partners were giving him curious looks. He signaled a time-out and carried the phone into the house. He could tell that Ronda May needed a listening ear, and he cared enough to give her that. But he wasn’t about to let her trap him again, especially since he’d mended fences with Megan.
“So, what’s going on?” he asked, lowering himself to the edge of the sofa.
She sniffled, clearly distraught. “I ran into Chuck today. He wants me back. He begged me to marry him. He even made me take back his ring.”
Conner stifled a groan. “Wait a minute,” he said. “Didn’t Chuck cheat on you?”
“Uh-huh. But he said he was sorry. He only wanted to make me jealous so I’d pay more attention to him. So in a way, it was my fault.”
“How did you answer him?” Conner asked.
“I said I’d think about it—but only if he’d swear on the Bible to never cheat again.”
“So, why are you calling me? And why are you crying? It sounds like you’ve already made up your mind.”
There was silence on the other end of the call.
“Have you?” Conner asked.
He could hear her sobbing. “No . . . there’s one more thing,” Ronda May said. “Something I haven’t told anybody.”
“I’m listening.”
“Before, when we broke up, after I caught him cheating, we had a big fight. He hit me, Conner. He punched me in the side of the face, hard enough to leave a bruise. I had to cover it with makeup. But he said he was sorry. He promised not to do it again.”
“And do you believe him?”
“I want to.”
“But do you really?”
The only reply was silence.
Conner mouthed a curse. “Listen to yourself, Ronda May. Why are you asking me whether you should marry a man who cheats on you and hits you, when you already know the answer to that question?”
“You’re saying I shouldn’t marry him?”
“I’m not saying anything. You’re a smart girl. You figure it out.” Conner took a deep breath and changed the subject. “Megan said she had a talk with you.”
“Uh-huh. She was trying to be nice, I guess. She even left me a voicemail this morning. I haven’t listened to it yet. Maybe I won’t.”
“Maybe you should.” Conner glanced up to see Rush standing in the doorway. “I’ve got to go,” he said. “But think long and hard before you say yes to that cowboy. You deserve a good man who’ll treat you the way a woman should be treated. And he’s out there, Ronda May. You just need to keep looking.”
Rush grinned as Conner followed him outside. “I figured you needed rescuing,” he said.
“Thanks,” Conner said. “I want Ronda May to be happy, but she’s got to learn to make her own decisions. She can’t expect me or any other man to make them for her.”
“Well, I hope that man doesn’t turn out to be Chuck Bartle,” Rush said. “If he treats his women the way he treats his animals . . .” He let the words trail off. “How are things with you and Megan?”
“Good. And I want to keep them that way.” Conner walked down the steps, whistling. He was already counting the hours until Sunday.
* * *
The next afternoon, Megan put on the wool slacks and blazer she’d packed, took her wrapped gift, and drove to Tracy’s for the bridal shower. Tracy’s house, just two streets over from Maggie’s, was a neat Arts and Crafts bungalow with an overhanging roof and a broad, covered porch.
When she rang the bell, it was Rush’s precocious little girl, Clara, who opened the door. Megan had heard the story of how Rush, after five years in his first marriage, had learned that Clara was fathered by his wife’s lover. Last year, through some legal maneuvering, he’d been able to get partial custody of the child he adored as his own. Clara now spent her summers and Christmas holidays with Rush and Tracy.
“Hi, Megan!” She was grinning, bouncing with pleasure. “I remember you and Daniel from the ranch. Come on in. You’re the first one here.”
A sleek calico cat jumped off the sofa and made a beeline for the front door. Clara snatched her up, laughing. “No, you don’t. It’s too cold to go outside.” Still holding the cat, Clara looked up at Megan. “Do you like cats?”
“I do, very much, but I don’t have one.” Megan stroked the silky back and felt the tremor of a purr.
“This is Rainbow,” Clara said. “I named her that because she has all the cat colors. Last year, she had babies. I have one of her babies at home. His name is Snowflake because he’s all white. He has a carrier to travel in, but I didn’t bring him because he doesn’t like the airplane. Come on. You can put your present here on the coffee table.” Still chattering, the little girl led the way across the living room, which was decorated for Christmas, with a glittering tree in one corner.
“Hi, Megan!” Tracy called from the kitchen. “Come on in here. I’m glad somebody’s right on time.”
“That comes from being a teacher,” Megan said, stepping through the kitchen door. “When the bell rings, you have to be ready to start class. The trouble is, it carries over into other things. When it comes to parties, I tend to arrive before everyone else. But now that I’m here, I hope you’ll let me help you. What can I do?”
“Let’s see . . .” Tracy glanced around the kitchen. “How about arranging that snack tray and putting it out—the cheese and crackers, the dip, and the other things you see there. I should have done it earlier. Now I’m running out of time.”
“Sure.” Megan washed her hands, found a set of tongs, and began arranging food on the round teakwood tray. “Thanks again for inviting me. I need to know more people in Branding Iron, especially now that there’s a chance I might be staying—only a chance, mind you. I’m still weighing my options.”
“You mean you wouldn’t go back to Nashville? Don’t you have a job there?”
“I do. But if I give notice now, they shouldn’t have a problem finding somebody else. And my dad mentioned that the first-grade teacher here in Branding Iron is pregnant and plans to quit as soon as the school can find a replacement. It’s almost like things are falling into place. But if I were to stay, it would mean giving up my singing career, such as it is.”
“And what about Conner?” Tracy asked. “How’s that going?”
“Still in time-out while I figure out my life.” Megan used the tongs to make a line of cheese slices around the outside edge of the tray. “But we’re talking. I guess that’s a good sign.”
“I hope so. When he brought you to that dinner at Maggie’s, I could tell he really liked you. Have you told him about your secret identity?”
“Not yet. I keep putting it off.”
“Well, I wouldn’t put it off too long. Conner’s pretty easygoing about most things, but he’s a proud man. He doesn’t like being played for a fool.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” As Megan was finishing the tray, the babble of voices reached her ears. “It sounds like your guests are arriving. Do
you want me to take this tray out now?”
“Yes, thanks. Maybe you can help Clara with the welcoming while I do a few last-minute things. Then we’ll get the party started.”
There were twelve guests at the shower, counting the bride. Some were women who’d worked with Maggie in the city building. Megan had met a few others before—Jess Marsden, the sheriff’s wife, and Francine, her mother, who ran the Bed and Breakfast; Connie Parker, who was Katy’s mother, and also Katy, who’d gotten time off from work to come. The remaining women were ranch wives, Travis’s neighbors. All of them were friendly.
Megan’s mother hadn’t been invited. But even if she had been, she probably wouldn’t have come. She was self-conscious about her disability and had made no effort to socialize with people in Branding Iron. That was a shame, because these women would have welcomed her, Megan thought. Maybe if she stayed, she could try to get her mother out of the house and help her make some friends.
Megan had half expected Ronda May to walk in the door. But as time passed and there was no sign of her, Megan relaxed and enjoyed the sense of relief.
Tracy had laid out an elegant buffet of croissant sandwiches, fresh fruit, salads, and cheeses, with a choice of wine or nonalcoholic punch. The guests nibbled, sipped, and visited, most of the talk centering on Maggie and her coming wedding.
“You’ve never told us how you and Travis met. How about a story?” The question came from a receptionist in the city office building.
Maggie, looking radiant in a dark green sweater with silver earrings, laughed. “It was like something out of a romance novel,” she said. “Remember that big ice storm we had a couple of years ago? Travis was still living alone then. His windmill was frozen, and he had to climb to the top and free up the vanes so it would turn. I was driving past the ranch on my way home from an errand when my car hit a slick spot and slid into the ranch gate. Travis was climbing down when it happened. He was so distracted that his feet slipped on the icy ladder, and he fell all the way to the ground.” Maggie shook her head. “I came flying out of the car, half-afraid that I’d killed him. But then, as I looked down at him, he opened those beautiful eyes . . . Oh, my, I just melted.”
