by Janet Dailey
No such luck. Turning onto Hank’s street, she could see his truck in the carport. Bracing for an unpleasant welcome, she parked at the curb, took the cookies, and waded through the snow to the concrete slab that served as a front porch.
She was still stomping the snow off her boots when Hank answered the bell.
“Maggie.” There was no warmth in his voice and little more than suspicion in his gaze. “What do you want?”
“Just to talk. May I come in?”
He stepped aside without a word, opening the door to let her come in. The living room reminded Maggie of an economy-priced motel unit—neat and orderly but with no personal touches and no family photos. The older TV in one corner was broadcasting a Sunday news program. Hank walked over to the set and switched it off. He didn’t offer to take her coat.
“I did some baking. These are for you.” Maggie thrust the box of cookies toward him.
“Trying to sweeten me up, are you?” Still unsmiling, he took the box and put it on the coffee table.
“No comment.” Maggie’s attempt at humor fell flat.
“Sit down.” He motioned her to a chair. Maggie took a seat. He sat on the sofa, facing her. “So,” he said, “since you came to talk, go ahead and talk.”
He wasn’t making this easy. But the man had been wounded by his son’s rejection, Maggie reminded herself. And he believed she’d taken Travis’s side against him. Of course, his defenses would be up.
“You and I have been friends for a long time, Hank,” she said.
“We have.” His look was guarded.
“I value that friendship too much to let anything spoil it,” Maggie said. “I’m hoping we can get to the bottom of what’s happened so we can move on.”
Hank’s jaw tightened. “If you’re still wanting me to play Santa Claus, forget it. You can take your cookies and go.”
“That’s not what this is about,” Maggie said. “I know what happened between you and your son all those years ago. He was hurt when you sent him home. But you did the right thing back then, Hank. You’ve done the right thing all along. It’s Travis who needs to admit he was wrong and ask for forgiveness.”
Her words seemed to touch Hank. His defensive expression softened. His gaze dropped to his hands. “You heard what Travis said to me. I don’t think my son is capable of asking for forgiveness—or forgiving.”
“But you could be wrong. Listen—this is something I know from a good source. When you put your trees on sale for half price and cut into his opening day of business, Travis’s friend Conner wanted to do something to get back at you. Travis refused. He wouldn’t act against you. Doesn’t that mean something?”
Hank didn’t reply.
“Travis didn’t go into the tree business to spite you,” Maggie said. “He did it because the trees were growing on his property. It was a gift—a way to make the money he needed to run the ranch.”
“But he could have come to me. If he had, I’d have helped him learn the business. I might have even given him some start-up money,” Hank said. “Now it’s too late.”
“I refuse to believe that. It’s never too late.”
He gave her a dejected look. “Hasn’t Travis told you what I did?”
“I haven’t talked to Travis since Saturday morning. Is there something I don’t know?”
“If you don’t, you’ll find out soon enough. Saturday, when I saw those flyers on the doors, I went to Featherstone and complained about the littering and about the signs Travis had put up.”
Maggie remembered the constable in the Shop Mart parking lot, stopping to collect a flyer off the pavement. She’d assumed he was just picking up trash. Now his action held a different meaning.
“I did something even worse, Maggie,” Hank said. “I know for a fact that little rat, Featherstone, is sweet on you. I wanted to make sure he did his job. So I told him that you and Travis were seeing each other. That set him off just the way I wanted. Last night, he called and told me he’d ticketed Travis for more than eleven hundred dollars in fines—and that he’d handed out the tickets right in front of his customers.”
“Oh, Hank.” Sick with dismay, Maggie shook her head. “You’re a good man. What possessed you to do such a thing?”
“I lay awake all night asking myself the same question. I guess I figured that since Travis had hurt me, I had the right to hurt him back. It was a dirty trick, and I’m sorry now. But it’s too late to mend fences. Travis will know it was me, and he won’t be in a mood to forgive. I’m afraid I’ve made an enemy for life.”
The glimmer of unshed tears in Hank’s eyes told Maggie he was genuinely sorry. But why should Travis believe that?
Hank slid the box of cookies across the coffee table toward Maggie. “These cookies smell mighty good,” he said. “I know you brought them in the spirit of making peace. But after what I’ve done, I don’t deserve them. Maybe you’d better give them to somebody else.”
“Oh, no, you don’t.” Maggie shoved the box back toward him. “I’m not giving up on you, Hank Miller. And I’m not giving up on Travis, either. I won’t rest until the two of you can shake hands and talk like friends, at least, if not father and son.”
Hank leaned back into the couch, his expression sad and knowing. “Do you love my boy, Maggie?”
The question hit Maggie hard. It was the question she’d asked herself again and again—the question she had yet to answer. But she couldn’t refuse to answer Hank. And she knew better than to lie.
She took a deep breath. “Yes, I guess I do. And something tells me you love him, too. So what are we going to do about it?”
“I can’t answer that question for myself,” Hank said. “Travis is a proud man, and he’s nursing a lot of hurt. After what I’ve done to him, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to reach him. But maybe you can.”
“I can try.” Maggie rose. “Are we good?”
“We’re good, and I’ll keep the cookies. Thanks.” Hank stood with her. “Is it okay if I talk to Francine about this?”
“Of course. We’re good friends. Tell her as much as you want to.”
“If there’s anything you can do . . .” Hank’s words trailed off, but Maggie knew what he meant. He was hoping she could work a miracle with Travis.
“I’ll do my best,” she said, squeezing his hand. “And I’ll be in touch.”
Torn by a storm of emotions, Maggie drove home. She’d made peace with Hank, but at what cost? If she truly loved Travis, shouldn’t she side with him, and not with his father?
After what Hank had done with the signs and flyers, Travis was bound to be furious. And she would be caught right between them.
At home, Maggie busied herself cleaning the messy kitchen, doing laundry, and organizing the papers that had piled up on her desk. She tried to focus on each task, but her thoughts were ricocheting from Travis to Hank to the Branding Iron Christmas celebration and the Santa Claus she had yet to find.
With the parade just short weeks away, it was time she gave up on Hank and found somebody else. Stanley Featherstone would probably do the job if she sweet-talked him into it. But the constable, who scared some children, would make a lousy Santa, and she didn’t want to owe the little weasel any favors. There was nothing left to do except milk the city budget for a professional. But she would think about that tomorrow at work.
She was at her desk, paying bills, when her phone rang. The name on the caller ID was Conner Branch.
She pressed the answer button, worry chewing at her. What if something had happened to Travis?
“Conner, is everything all right?” she asked.
He laughed. “Everything’s fine, Maggie. Why? Were you worried about something?”
“No, just being me,” she fibbed. “What’s going on?”
“Well . . .”
She could picture him grinning.
“How would you like the honor of taking our very first sleigh ride?”
“You’re kidding!” Her dark mo
od was instantly gone. “You’ve got the sleigh out?”
“Yup. And I’ve been giving lessons to these two city slickers. Now they can hitch and drive that team like old Santa himself. All we need now is somebody to take for a ride—like our favorite lady mayor.”
“Can I get there? I know your road won’t be plowed.”
“Rush has been running the Hummer up and down the road to flatten the snow. You should be fine. If you get stuck, call, and we’ll come to your rescue.”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
This was just what she needed, Maggie thought as she layered a thick sweater under her parka and pulled on woolen socks to wear under her boots. She’d spent the whole day dealing with problems, and tomorrow was bound to be even worse. Just for a little while, she wanted to have a good time in the snow.
But her worries came back to roost, like blackbirds in an orchard, as she drove down the plowed highway. It was Conner, not Travis, who’d invited her to the ranch, she reminded herself. Did Travis even know she was coming? With so much tension between them, how would he feel when she showed up for a sleigh ride?
Should she tell him she’d just spoken with Hank? But surely that could wait for a better time. And she wasn’t even supposed to know what Hank had done about the flyers and signs. Maybe the wisest thing would be to play dumb and keep it to herself.
Heaven help her, it was just as she’d feared—Travis and his father were battling it out, and she was caught right between them.
* * *
Inviting Maggie for a sleigh ride had been Conner’s idea. But Travis was glad she’d agreed to come. They’d put their relationship on hold—a wise move given the tension between them. But at the time, he hadn’t realized how much he would miss her. Amid the stress and worry of getting the tree business off the ground, Maggie—even on the worst days—was like an island of calm sunshine.
But did she feel the same way about him? After his clash with Hank, and the way she’d reacted to it, that was a serious question. Whatever the answer was, he knew better than to push his luck today. He just wanted to feast his eyes on her and hear her voice.
He stood on the porch, watching as she pulled through the gate and parked her car in the spot he’d cleared for her. As she climbed out of her car, the wind rippled her hair and heightened the color in her cheeks. She was so beautiful that even seeing her from a distance made his throat ache.
Bucket came bounding around the house to greet her, scattering snow with his thrashing tail. Maggie laughed and scratched his ears. When she looked up, her gaze met Travis’s. He gave her a smile and a casual wave.
Conner came around the house, where he and Rush had been checking the sleigh and the horses. “Hey, Maggie!” he said. “Are you ready for the season’s first sleigh ride?”
“That’s what I came for.” She took a knit cap out of her pocket and pulled it over her hair and ears. “Will you be driving the sleigh?”
“Nope,” Conner said. “I’m leaving that job to my friend Travis, here. He’s been training with the team all morning and not doing bad at all. Taking you for a ride will be his graduation.” He looked toward the porch with a mischievous grin. “Come on, Travis, she’s all yours!”
Travis hadn’t seen this coming. He was barely competent with the horses, and right now, being alone with Maggie could be awkward. But Conner had flung down the challenge, and there was no way he could refuse.
He came down off the porch. Passing him on the way, Conner stopped him and leaned close to his ear.
“This is your last chance,” he muttered. “Either you put your brand on that woman today, or I’m declaring open season and going after her myself!”
By the time the words sank in, Conner had mounted the porch. His friend was right, Travis realized as he walked toward Maggie. He’d stalled and made excuses, afraid he wouldn’t be good enough for this magnificent woman until he’d proven himself worthy. But if he wasn’t man enough to lay his heart on the line and make her his now, he didn’t deserve her and never would.
“Let’s go,” he said, offering his arm to steady her on the snowy ground. She took it, her hand resting on the sleeve of his jacket. He felt the pride of walking with her as they went around the house to the backyard, where the sleigh was waiting. “Are you sure you trust me to drive this thing?” he asked her. “I only just learned today.”
“You’ll be fine.” She squeezed his arm, but he detected an edge in her voice. Was she nervous about going in the sleigh with him? Or was something going on that he wasn’t aware of?
The confidence he’d felt a moment before began to fade.
Rush was waiting to steady the horses while they climbed into the sleigh. He gave Maggie a smile. “You’re a brave woman,” he joked. To Travis he simply said, “Good luck.”
But luck was only the beginning of what Travis was going to need.
* * *
Maggie settled herself on the driver’s bench and pulled on her gloves. When she’d accepted Conner’s invitation, she hadn’t expected to be riding alone with Travis. But here he was, sitting beside her with the reins in his hands. Had this been his idea all along, or had his partners pulled a fast one to get them together?
Judging from his unease, she guessed that Travis was as surprised as she was.
He nodded to Rush, who stepped away from the big Percherons. A flick of the reins and they were off at a cautious pace, headed west, away from the ranch house.
They hadn’t gone fifty yards when a black and white fur ball came rocketing alongside them. Bucket leaped into the sleigh, panting and shaking off snow as he hopped onto the backseat.
Maggie laughed. “Bucket always rode next to Abner in the parade, wearing a Santa hat. You’ll never convince him that he doesn’t belong here.”
“That’s okay with me,” Travis said. “And the hat’s not a bad idea. We should get him one.”
“Where are we headed?” Maggie asked, making small talk.
“This road leads out to where the trees are. We’ve been working to get it ready for the sleigh.”
“But can’t you go dashing through the snow with jingling bells, like in the song?”
“Not on this road. Anyway, this is a two-horse open sleigh.”
“I’ve got a good idea,” Maggie said. “Why not get some bells for the kids to jingle on the ride? They could even sing ‘Jingle Bells.’ ”
“Now that’s a thought,” Travis said. “Maybe next year.”
“I’m sure I could find some online. I could have them here for you in a couple of days.”
“Please don’t bother, Maggie. You’ve got more important things to do.”
He went quiet, and so did Maggie as they passed beyond the fenced hayfields and into the wild part of the ranch. Snow lay over the land like a vast white blanket, broken here and there by clumps of cedar. A red-tailed hawk circled overhead, scanning the whiteness for signs of prey. The sure-footed old horses needed little in the way of urging or guidance. They plodded steadily over the packed snow of the road. The sky was clear blue overhead, the breeze crisp but gentle.
The day was almost perfect. But something was wrong, and Maggie sensed what it was. She was alone with the man she loved, in a perfect setting to open up and be honest with each other. Instead, they were filling the silence with useless bits of small talk, both of them avoiding the things that needed to be said if they were to move on.
She’d come here with the idea of playing it safe and keeping her secrets to herself. But that would only preserve the distance between them. She had to risk her heart. She had to tell the truth.
Chapter 14
Maggie steeled her resolve, knowing what had to be said.
“Travis, I went to see your father this morning.”
She heard the catch in his throat. His hands tightened on the reins.
“It’s a free country, I guess,” he said.
“We had a long talk.”
“I don’t even want to hear
about it. Do you have any idea what that man did to me yesterday?”
“Yes. He told me.”
“Did he tell you that he complained to Featherstone about the flyers and the signs? Did he tell you about the tickets that little rat-faced punk gave me, and what it’ll cost if I can’t convince the judge it was a setup?”
“He did. And he said he made sure it would be personal. He knew that Featherstone would be jealous of you.”
“Jealous?” Travis gave her a puzzled glance. “Why? Featherstone didn’t even know me until he came out here with the tickets.”
“He was jealous because Hank told him you and I were seeing each other. And don’t you dare go jumping to conclusions. I only put up with that annoying little man because I have to work with him. Conner knew that. Didn’t he tell you?”
“We haven’t had much time to talk.” Travis nudged the horses from an amble to a walk. “I’m surprised Hank would confess to his guilt. What did you do, twist his arm?”
“Actually, I bribed him with cookies. Or maybe he just needed to talk, and I showed up at the right time.”
“Did he tell you anything else?”
“He said he was sorry. Truly sorry. He meant it, Travis. I could tell.”
“It’s a little late for sorry.” Travis stared at the horizon for a long, silent moment. “Why are you taking his side?”
“I’m not taking anybody’s side. I see two good men, bound by blood, who can’t seem to stop hurting each other. I just want them to quit feuding and make peace.”
“Stop wasting your time, Maggie. This isn’t your fight. Why should it even matter to you?”
“Because Hank is my good friend. And because you—” She broke off, knowing what had to come next.
“Because what, Maggie?” He turned to face her. “What about me?”