by Janet Dailey
“Abner did a great job of training him. I’m sure he’d stay, especially if someone he knew was in the driver’s seat.”
“I could make him a little red cape to wear, with a furry collar and bells around the edge.” Francine was getting into the idea.
“Of course, it would still be best if Hank would play Santa,” Maggie said. “Bucket could wear the costume and ride with him.”
“I’ll keep working on him, honey, but don’t count on it. Meanwhile, you’d better make sure you can count on the sleigh and the dog.”
“I’ll go this afternoon,” Maggie said. “The guys will be busy at the ranch, but I’ll only need a few minutes to talk to them.”
“Well, in that case, I’ll be on my way home to make roast beef dinner for my man.” Francine rose and crammed her swollen feet into her pumps, put on her coat, and tottered out to her car.
Maggie put on fresh jeans and a dark green sweater, touched up her makeup, and brushed her hair before she went out to the garage. The past couple of days had been above freezing, and the snow had begun to melt—good for the roads and sidewalks, but not for the sleigh ride business or the upcoming parade. As she backed out of the garage, she sent up a silent prayer for more snow.
On Main Street, mounds of shoveled snow were thawing and running into the gutters. Shoppers bustled in and out of stores, getting their errands done while the weather was fair. “The Little Drummer Boy” boomed over the speakers in the park.
Maggie passed the crowded Shop Mart parking lot and drove onto the highway. There were vehicles outside Hank’s Hardware and people looking at his Christmas trees. In spite of the tricks he’d played, he’d lost business to the Christmas Tree Ranch. By this time last year, he had all but sold out. This year a third of his trees were left, and their boughs were getting dry. More and more customers were passing them up for a fresh tree from the ranch.
She couldn’t help feeling sorry for Hank. He was a good man, and he’d done his best with the cruel cards life had dealt him. He deserved a relationship with his son, and Travis deserved to have his father in his life. If only she knew how to make that happen.
At the ranch, she counted nine cars and trucks parked along the road. People who’d put off buying their trees until late in the season were getting them now. But the snow was already too far gone for sleigh rides. The unhitched sleigh was parked in the shed, the horses enjoying the sunshine in the pasture.
Maggie parked across the road and walked through the gate. Bucket, dozing on the porch, came bounding down the steps to meet her. She rubbed his ears as she looked around. The teenage boy and girl they’d hired were tending the fire, the s’mores, and the chocolate machine. Rush was helping a family pick out a tree, and Conner was lashing another tree onto the top of a car. In the distance, she could hear the sound of the chain saw. Travis, she assumed, was cutting a tree from the farm for a customer.
As Conner turned away from loading the tree, she waved at him. He trotted over to where she stood. “Hi, Maggie.” He greeted her with a grin. “If you’re looking for Travis, he should be back here in a few minutes. You’re welcome to go inside and wait.”
“Actually, it’s you I wanted to talk to,” she said. “I hope your offer to drive the sleigh in the parade next Saturday is still good.”
“Sure, no problem. It’ll be good PR for the ranch. But you’ll need to brief me on when and where.”
“I’ve got a page with a map and instructions on it in my office. I’ll make sure you get it.”
“So, did Hank finally agree to play Santa?”
“No, but I’ve got a plan B. Right here.” She patted Bucket’s eager head. “Meet our backup Santa.”
“You’re kidding!” Conner looked startled.
“Why not? Bucket’s been riding shotgun in the sleigh for years. He’ll look adorable in the doggy Santa outfit Francine is making him. Better a first-rate dog Santa than a second-rate human.”
“You’re right! Why not?” Conner burst out laughing. “Some folks might be disappointed, but at least they’ll get a kick out of him.”
“I haven’t given up on Hank. But I’m hoping I can at least count on you and Bucket.”
“We’ll be there with bells on! Let’s hope for snow. It won’t be the same if we have to pull the sled on the flatbed.”
“I’m afraid it won’t be the first time.” Maggie’s ears caught the sound of the ATV, coming from the direction of the trees.
“That would be Travis,” Conner said. “He’ll be here in the next few minutes. If you two want some time together, I can check out his customers and load their tree.”
“Thanks, I know you’re busy. I won’t keep him long.” Only now, as she was about to see Travis again, did Maggie realize how much she’d missed him. What had possessed her to think she could be apart from him for so long? She couldn’t wait to feel his arms around her. But she didn’t want to greet him with a yard full of people looking on.
“Tell him I’ll be out back,” she said, and walked around the house.
Moments later Travis drove into the yard with a young family in the back of the ATV and a freshly cut tree loaded on the trailer. Maggie stepped around the back corner of the house to watch as he stopped and climbed out of the vehicle.
Conner crossed the yard, touched his shoulder, and said something Maggie couldn’t hear. Travis turned and saw her standing just in his sight at the corner of the house. The surprise that flashed across his face warmed into a smile. Almost running, he strode around the house to where Maggie waited and caught her in his arms.
Driven by raw emotion, their kiss was long and hard and sweet. When they finally drew apart, she looked up into his face. The weary lines and shadows there told of exhausting days and sleepless, worry-filled nights.
“Damn, but it’s good to see you, Maggie,” he said. “I don’t think I could’ve lasted till Christmas.”
“Conner knows my excuse for coming,” she said. “But I had to see you, too.”
“If you’re wondering about my father, nothing’s changed,” he said. “I told you it was going to take time.”
“It’s all right. I understand.” Her arms tightened around him, holding on as if she never wanted to let him go. He’d be working hard right up until Christmas, but Maggie knew she couldn’t wait to be with him again. They’d already been apart too long.
“We need some quiet time,” she said. “Can you come by tomorrow night? It’s Sunday. You won’t be open for business.”
His lips brushed her forehead. “It might be late. We’ll have a lot of trees to trim and cut for the week ahead. But don’t worry, I’ll be there.”
“I’ll be waiting. Now, you need to get back to work.”
He walked her to her car. She smiled up at him as she slid into the driver’s seat. “See you tomorrow night,” she said.
“I’ll be there, come hell or high water,” he said.
She could see him in her rearview mirror, standing by the gate to watch her drive away. Everything was good, Maggie told herself. The Christmas tree business was growing; she had a solid backup plan for the parade; and there was reason to hope that Travis and his father might reconcile. Tomorrow night, she and Travis would get some serious time to snuggle and talk.
She had every reason to be over the moon. So why did she have this sense of a looming shadow that was about to change everything?
Chapter 15
On Sunday, Travis and his partners worked all day, trimming new trees, cutting most of them, and hauling them to the front yard for the late buyers. After darkness put a stop to their work, they sat around the kitchen table and took stock of their earnings.
So far, they’d sold 135 trees. At $30 each for most of them and $40 for the custom cuts, plus the money from the sleigh rides, the total, minus expenses, was only a few thousand dollars, far short of the rosy picture they’d imagined when they’d started.
“Well, at least we won’t starve,” Conner said.
; “And I’ll know better than to buy a fancy truck,” Travis added. “But there must be some way we can make more money.”
“The season isn’t over.” Conner drained the last of his beer. “We should have another good week, at least, especially with the trees in Hank’s lot getting dry. But we can’t run the sleigh without snow. That’ll cut down our profits. Didn’t you say you have an old hay wagon, Travis?”
Travis nodded. “It’s out behind the barn. But the wagon’s too wide for that back road to the trees. If we did hayrides, we’d need someplace to go. But it’s a thought. Let’s keep it in mind. Meanwhile, with enough snow, we could keep doing sleigh rides all through the holidays. What we really need is another big storm.”
“What I need right now is a good night’s sleep.” Rush stood up and yawned. “I’ll see you two in the morning.” He tossed his beer can in the recycle bin and wandered off down the hall.
“Guess I’ll turn in, too,” Conner said. “It’s early yet, but I’m beat.”
“Then I hope you won’t mind if I take your Jeep to town,” Travis said.
Conner grinned. “So I guess you and Maggie are back on good terms. Sure. Take the Jeep, and don’t you dare hurry back.”
* * *
Travis whistled a tune as he washed the sawdust out of his hair and buttoned on a clean flannel shirt. He wouldn’t make it to Maggie’s until well after 9:00. Since they both had to work tomorrow, he wouldn’t plan to stay more than an hour or two. But even the thought of holding Maggie in his arms in front of a cheerful fire was enough to warm his chilled bones.
In high spirits, he put on his coat, let Bucket inside for the night, and went out to the Jeep.
The night was clear, the stars like pinpoints of ice against a black sky. The road was bumpy with frozen slush, but the highway was dry. Coming up on his right was Hank’s Hardware. Strings of Christmas lights still glowed around the tree lot, but there were no cars outside the wire fence.
Slowing down, Travis caught sight of Hank walking alone between the rows. With his head down, his leg dragging wearily, he appeared to be counting his unsold trees.
He looked so lonely and forlorn that Travis was almost tempted to pull off the road, get out of the Jeep, and go to his father. But no, he’d only start another quarrel, he told himself. Besides, he and Maggie had set aside this time to be together, and he’d already kept her waiting long enough. Eyes on the road, he kept on driving, past the Shop Mart and on into town.
Maggie’s porch light was on, and there was a faint glow in her living room window. He parked on the street and strode up the walk to the front door. Not wanting to startle her, he gave a light tap instead of ringing the bell.
As if she’d been waiting right there, she opened the door at once, pulled him inside, and melted into his arms. “I was afraid you weren’t coming,” she murmured between kisses.
“Nothing could have kept me away.” He breathed her in, filled his senses with her sweet fragrance. “It’s been a long day. I’m dead on my feet. What do you say we sit down?”
She took his coat and led him to the sofa. He sank into the soft cushions with Maggie nestled against his side. The fire in the fireplace had burned down to glowing coals, but the warmth was still inviting. There were snacks on the table—chips and dip, cheese and crackers. But he was too tired to eat them. All he wanted was to hold her.
They talked for a while, small talk interspersed with kisses. Little by little, his mind began to blur. His eyelids grew heavy, and he drifted off in her arms.
* * *
“Hey, sleepyhead.” She woke him with kisses. “It’s after eleven. We need to get you on the road.”
Travis groaned and opened his eyes. The fire was out, the room dark and cooling. “Sorry,” he muttered. “I didn’t come here to fall asleep.”
“It’s all right. I know you’re tired.”
“This has happened before, as I remember.”
“Yes, it has. But as I remember, I was the one who fell asleep. Now we’re even.”
He put on his coat and kissed her good night. Maybe the time would come when he could kiss her good morning and make her breakfast in bed. He’d have to do it right—one didn’t just shack up with a woman like Maggie. But what was he thinking? It would be a long time before he was in a position to marry any woman, let alone the classy mayor of Branding Iron.
At this hour, on a Sunday night, the streets were all but deserted. But as he pulled away from the curb, he noticed a vehicle partway down the block, leaving the curb at the same time. The strange thing was that, in the dead of night, the headlights weren’t on.
As a patrolman, his first response would have been to warn the driver. But as an ex-con, he’d lived in the shadows long enough to know better. All his prickling instincts told him he was being tailed.
Just to make sure, he drove around the block. The vehicle, which appeared to be a dark, older-model sedan, followed a half block behind him.
Nerves quivering, he turned down Main Street, hoping the street lights would give him a look at the driver. But the sedan hung back, widening the distance. All Travis could make out was a single driver with a face hidden by the lowered visor.
What did the bastard want? If he was looking for a confrontation, he was taking his time. Was the driver someone who knew him, maybe an enemy from prison? Was he armed?
Travis had never thought to ask if Conner carried a gun in his Jeep. Steering with his left hand, he opened the glove box and felt inside. Nothing. And nothing under the driver’s seat.
By now he was headed out of town. He passed the Shop Mart, then Hank’s Hardware, dark now except for the security lights mounted below the roof of the store. Another half mile and the car was still behind him. He thought about making a run for it on the highway. But the rugged Jeep wasn’t built for speed, and the sedan could easily have a souped-up engine.
Should he cut across the fields, where the low-slung sedan would probably get stuck? He was weighing that option, looking for a gap in the roadside fence, when he realized that the sedan was no longer following him. Slowing the Jeep, he made a U-turn on the empty highway and switched the headlights on high beam. As he moved back toward town, a pair of red taillights vanished into the dark. There was no other vehicle in sight. The sedan was gone. It was almost as if he’d imagined seeing it.
He was about to shrug off the incident and drive on home when a new thought struck him. His heart slammed.
Maggie!
What if the mysterious driver had tailed him to make sure he was headed out of town, so he could go after Maggie?
Pulse galloping, he pulled off the road, yanked his phone out of his pocket, and called her number.
* * *
Maggie was getting ready for bed when her cell phone rang. When she saw Travis’s name on the caller ID, her first thought was that he’d been in another late-night accident. Heart pounding, she took the call. “Are you all right?” she asked.
“Yes. Listen to me,” he said. “If your doors and windows aren’t locked, do it now. If the doorbell rings, don’t answer it. I think you might be in danger.”
“Everything’s locked now. But what are you talking about, Travis? This is Branding Iron, for heaven’s sake.”
“Listen to me. When I left your place, a car followed me with its lights off. After I got to the highway, it was gone. I think whoever it was might have been waiting to catch you alone. I’m coming back. Stay put, and I’ll be right there.”
“No, wait—it’s all right. I know who it is, and he’s harmless.” There was only one person who would be waiting outside her house in a car. Stanley Featherstone was beginning to give her the creeps, but Maggie couldn’t imagine he would actually harm her.
“Who is it, Maggie? I need to have words with him.”
She thought fast. The last thing she wanted was a showdown between Travis and the constable. “It’s nobody you know,” she lied. “Just an overprotective neighbor. I’ll be fine, Travis. Now go
home and get some sleep.”
He hesitated. “You’re sure?”
“Yes. The sheriff lives two blocks from me. If there’s any trouble, all I have to do is call him. Now stop worrying and go on home. I’ll see you soon.”
“If you’re sure. Sleep tight. Call if you need me. I love you.”
Maggie laid her phone on the nightstand. She had been about to undress and get ready for bed when the call came. Now she was too agitated to sleep. Stanley had crossed one line too many. Tomorrow at work, she would give him a good dressing down and threaten to have him arrested for stalking if he didn’t stop spying on her. Knowing Stanley, he would whine and play the victim. But she wouldn’t buy his act. She would let him know she meant business.
Right now, if she didn’t get some sleep, she’d be a wreck in the morning. Her nerves were jangling like the strings of a badly tuned banjo. Maybe a mug of warm milk and a few minutes of late-night talk show would help her unwind.
She had just taken the mug out of the microwave and settled herself in front of the TV when she heard the fire siren.
Setting the mug on the table, she jumped up, jammed her bare feet into her sneakers, and raced outside. From the front porch, she could see the column of smoke and flame blazing upward. It was coming from the south end of town, from the direction of Hank’s Hardware.
With the sickness of certainty, she hurried back inside, grabbed her coat, purse, and keys, and ran for her car. Branding Iron’s firefighters were all volunteer citizens. One of them roared past her in his pickup as she backed out of the driveway. More would be converging on the fire station to ride the engine to the blaze. As mayor, she wasn’t required to be there, but nothing could have kept her away.
* * *
Hank’s Christmas tree lot was on fire, the dry trees going up like tinder. Every time a new tree caught, the flames shot up like a Roman candle on the Fourth of July. Burning together, they made a roaring spectacle of fire, smoke, and blistering heat.