by Janet Dailey
Bucket had followed him outside. With a happy yip, the dog raced off the porch and jumped into the nearest mud puddle, splashing and rolling in pure doggy joy. Scowling like a thundercloud, Conner shook his head. The blasted mutt would have to be kept outside until he could be bathed. Even then, he’d probably run right back to play in the mud again.
But that was the least of Conner’s troubles. He’d planned to spend the day restocking the freshly cut tree supply for the late shoppers who’d be showing up this weekend. Hank’s lot in town would need trees, too—even more so, now that the ranch yard was a lake of mud.
Yesterday, with the ground still snowy and frozen, harvesting the trees wouldn’t have been a problem. Today the trail to the trees would be a quagmire. The ATV’s thick tires, and the ones on the trailer, would be in danger of getting bogged down. And keeping the cut trees clean would be extra work. With the water to the outside hose shut down for the winter, mud couldn’t be allowed to get on their branches.
Travis had come out onto the porch. For a few minutes, he stood in gloomy silence, watching Bucket romp in the mud. “At least the damn dog’s happy,” he said.
“Yeah,” Conner agreed. “It’s going to be a long day. We might as well drag out our muck boots and get started. If you’ll fix breakfast, I’ll see to the horses. By the time we’ve eaten, Rush should be here to help.”
“He’s going to be late,” Travis said. “I just got a call. He’s been tending a sick mare most of the night, and she’s still not out of the woods. For now, it’ll be just you and me.”
“Then we’ll have to manage, won’t we?” Conner had no cause to complain about Rush’s absence. It was understood that he was free to answer emergency vet calls. And the financial support he lent to the ranch more than made up for the times when he wasn’t around to work.
In the house, Conner filled Bucket’s bowl with kibble and set it on the porch so the dog could eat outside. With that done, he put on his oldest work clothes and tall rubber boots and went out to the barn. At least it wasn’t cold. But by the time the day was over, he and Travis would likely be as dirty as Bucket.
“No sleigh rides for you guys today.” Conner spoke to the horses as he gave them fresh hay and water and shoveled the manure out of their stalls. “You can take it easy till it snows again, or until the big Christmas Parade, whichever happens first.”
And that was one more problem, Conner mused as he sloshed his way back to the house. The sleigh rides were a source of extra income for the ranch. But most Texas winters tended to be dry. Snow for the holidays was a rare gift. This year, the partners had hoped it would last. But now the snow was gone, most likely for the season. If there was no more snow, there’d be no more cash coming in from sleigh rides. The new equipment they’d planned to buy for the ranch would have to wait.
On the porch, he kicked off the muddy boots and left them at the top of the steps. In the kitchen, Travis had brewed coffee, fried bacon, and was scrambling eggs in the drippings.
“How’s it looking out there?” he asked.
“About how you’d expect. We’ll be working in mud halfway up to our knees. But don’t look so gloomy. Ten days from now, you’ll be setting out on the sea of matrimony with the lovely Maggie. That should be enough to make any man smile.”
“You’re right.” Travis gave a halfhearted chuckle. “But I’m glad I only have to go through the blasted wedding once. If I could have my way, I’d just skip it and go right to the honeymoon.”
“In sunny Hawaii. You’ll be the envy of every man on the beach.” Conner filled his plate and coffee mug and began wolfing down his breakfast. The muddy conditions meant that he and Travis would have to work together felling the trees, keeping them clear of the ground. With Rush gone, that would mean leaving the front-yard tree lot unattended—not that they expected customers this morning. For now, they would have to hang a CLOSED sign on the gate until Rush showed up to lend a hand.
Twenty minutes later, they had the ATV out of the shed and the small two-wheeled flatbed hitched onto the back. Bucket caught up with them and made a flying leap onto the backseat as they passed the barn and headed out of the yard.
The narrow, rutted trail skimmed the pastures and crossed the scrubby foothills to the hollow where the dark green pine trees stood like a miniature forest against the gray landscape. The thawing snow had left a thick layer of mud that clung to the tires and made a plopping sound as the wheels turned. In low spots, the ATV sank almost to its axles before roaring back onto more solid ground.
After turning around and parking at the edge of the trees, they began harvesting, one man cutting through the trunk with the chain saw, the other catching the tree as it fell and carrying it to the trailer. Switching places as needed, they worked at a brisk pace. In less than an hour, the flatbed trailer was piled with freshly cut trees. As he helped Travis wrap the load with a long, stout rope, Conner filled his senses with their spicy fragrance. For him, the fresh aroma held all the magic of Christmas. And this Christmas just might be the best one of his life.
Travis pulled the rope ends together and tied them into a knot to secure the trees to the flatbed for the ride back to the ranch. There the trailer would be hitched to his pickup and hauled by back roads to the lot outside Hank’s Hardware.
Whistling for Bucket, who’d gone off on his own, they climbed into the front seat of the ATV. Conner had just started the engine when the dog came flying out of the trees and leapt into the backseat. Before settling down, he shook his fur, scattering mud in all directions. By then, Travis and Conner were too dirty to mind.
As they drove back toward the ranch yard, it became clear that the added weight on the trailer was going to be a problem. The wheels, which were sunk axle deep in mud, could barely turn. The ATV had to be run full throttle to keep the trailer inching along. Conner began to wonder whether they should unload half the trees and leave them behind, to be picked up later. But with the ATV’s engine roaring in their ears, there was no way for Travis to hear his suggestion. There was also the problem that any trees they unloaded would have to be left in the mud. It was too bad they hadn’t thought to bring a canvas tarp along. But that was his own fault, Conner berated himself. A man ten days from his wedding couldn’t be held accountable for such details.
They were not quite halfway back to the yard when the trailer stopped with a lurch, its two wheels hopelessly mired. Conner gunned the engine, but the ATV’s wheels only spun in the mud without moving forward.
Cursing, Conner shut down the vehicle and Travis got out to check the trailer. After a quick look, he shook his head. “We can’t pull it out. We’re going to have to dig around the wheels. Toss me the shovel.”
A short-handled shovel was kept under the backseat of the ATV. Unfortunately, there was only one. Conner found it and handed it to Travis. “If we unhitch the trailer, I can run the ATV back to the ranch for another shovel and a tarp so we can unload some of the trees,” he said. “Or I could bring the pickup. It’ll have more power.”
“Don’t bother.” Travis thrust the shovel blade into the muck. “It won’t take me fifteen minutes to free these wheels.”
While Travis shoveled, Conner helped by gathering rocks and chunks of brush to shove under the trailer wheels. The work was harder than they’d expected, every shovelful of water-soaked mud like a leaden weight. By the time Travis had dug out one wheel, he was ready for a rest. Conner took over to free the second wheel. By the time the wheels were free and braced underneath, both men were worn-out.
“You drive,” Travis said. “I’ll stay back here, watch the wheels, and push if I need to.”
Conner climbed into the driver’s seat and whistled for Bucket, who jumped onto the backseat. Switching on the ignition, he put the ATV in low gear. “Ready?” he called, glancing back at Travis.
“Gun it!” Travis said.
Conner stomped on the accelerator. The engine roared as the ATV strained forward. The load behind moved, but only
a little. Conner slowed to an idle. “Is everything okay back there?” he asked.
“Fine. You almost made it out. Let me get behind and push. That should do it.”
“You’re sure?”
“It’ll be fine,” Travis said. “All right, on the count of three, one . . . two . . . three!”
Conner revved the engine. The ATV roared forward as the trailer wheels jerked free and moved forward. Suddenly there was a terrible, splintering crash. Conner cut the engine, turned in the seat, and looked back on a nightmare scene.
The load of stacked trees had been secured by a rope going from one side of the trailer to the other. But there’d been nothing to keep them from sliding off the back.
Where Travis had stood to push the trailer from behind, there was nothing but a big mound of trees, still settling from the fall.
Chapter 12
Megan was getting ready for bed when the phone call came from Conner. “Sorry to be calling so late. It’s been a hellish day.” Exhaustion threaded his voice. “Travis is in the hospital. A load of trees fell on him.”
Megan’s heart dropped. Not Travis. Not big, gentle Travis, who was always looking out for everybody else—Travis, who was planning to marry the love of his life days from now.
“How bad . . .” She struggled to get the words out. “Is he going to be all right?”
“He’s got a concussion, a couple of broken ribs, and a lot of cuts and bruises. The doctors want to keep him a few more days, maybe do a scan to make sure he doesn’t have internal injuries. Maggie’s with him.”
Megan began to breathe again. At least it sounded as if Travis would recover. But what about the wedding?
“Rush and I will be cutting and selling trees all day tomorrow,” Conner said. “But I’m hoping you and I are still on for Sunday.”
“I was hoping the same thing,” Megan said. “But with Travis in the hospital, are you sure you’ll be up for a good time?”
“A good time with you is just what I need. Here’s what I’m thinking. If you don’t mind a change of plans, I could pick you up about eleven. We could drive to Cottonwood Springs and visit Travis in the hospital, then go somewhere special for lunch. After that, we could figure something out—maybe a movie or just a nice drive. I want to be with you, Megan. After a day like today, I need to be with you.”
And she needed to be with him, too, Megan thought. There was nothing she wanted more than to spend time alone with Conner—time for them to open up and really get to know each other.
But how could she open up to him when she’d been hiding the secret that was Lacy Leatherwood? And how could she slam him with the truth on their Sunday date when he was still reeling from his best friend’s accident?
Maybe the truth would have to wait.
Or maybe she was just being cowardly.
“Megan? Are you still there?”
She’d fallen silent. “Sorry, I’m still here. Your plan sounds fine.”
“You’re sure?”
“Absolutely. I’d like to see Travis and give him my best wishes—Maggie, too, if she’s still with him.”
“I’m guessing she will be. She hasn’t left his side.” He paused a moment. “I’ll see you on Sunday, then. You might not hear from me tomorrow. With the muddy mess at the ranch, Rush and I are moving the fire, cocoa, and marshmallow operation to Hank’s. We’ll probably keep it going there as long as there are customers tomorrow night.”
“No problem. I promised to take Daniel Christmas shopping after work to buy presents for Mom and Dad. So I’ll see you Sunday.”
“I’ll be there, looking forward. Sweet dreams.”
“Same to you.”
* * *
Megan ended the call and finished getting ready for bed. However, sleep wouldn’t come. Restless, she flung the covers aside, pattered across the floor, and lifted her guitar from its place in the corner. She’d been working on the song, on and off for days, hoping to have it ready for the Christmas Ball. But she wasn’t happy with what she’d done. Maybe something would come together now. Sitting on her bed in the dark, she began to strum and sing: “If you could read the secrets in my eyes, would you stay? Or would you walk, walk, walk away? If I could tell you what’s hidden in my heart, would you stay?”
She changed the chords from major to minor, moved the words around. No, something isn’t right. It sounds . . . fake. Like Lacy. She couldn’t imagine singing the song in front of an audience.
She knew that many of the big-name singers wrote their own songs. That was what she needed to get ahead in the business—an original song she could record. But this half-finished ballad wasn’t working. Maybe she was never going to write a good song. Maybe she should just give up.
With a weary sigh, she put the guitar aside and crawled back into bed. As she closed her eyes, she remembered the subtle premonition she’d had at the bridal shower—that this joyful season was just the time for something to go wrong. And now, something had gone wrong—something terrible.
Superstitious nonsense, she told herself. Bad things happen, that’s all. And when they do, there’s nothing to do but deal with them and move on.
But why did an awful accident like Travis’s have to happen at such a happy time?
She could feel herself drifting now. She would think about Sunday and being with Conner. Maybe that would lead to a good dream. And maybe, just maybe, that dream would come true.
* * *
Sunday was a warm day for December, breezy but clear. Under a bright winter sun, the muddy ground was drying into ruts and ridges. With no snow in the forecast, Conner’s hopes for a white Christmas and a profitable sleigh-riding season were fading. But he wouldn’t think about that today—not when he could look forward to spending time with his favorite woman.
Before leaving to pick up Megan, he turned the horses into the pasture to enjoy a few hours of sunshine and freedom. Rush had promised to come by later to check on them and let Bucket outside for a run.
On his way through town, he stopped at the do-it-yourself car wash, hosed the mud off the Jeep, and vacuumed out the inside. His vehicle was nothing fancy, but he wanted Megan to feel comfortable in it. If they could relax and talk today, maybe they could get beyond this edgy, uncertain stage of their relationship and into something warm and secure.
He wanted her to be his girl—that and more. With his partners settling down, he’d begun to think ahead, picturing a family of his own. Would Megan be part of that family? He already knew he had strong feelings for her. But unless Megan returned those feelings, he was headed down the bumpy road to the Heartbreak Hotel.
With luck, after today, he would know.
* * *
Megan dismissed the impulse to check her computer as she waited for Conner to arrive. She had yet to receive a reply to her e-mail about driver training for Daniel. But nobody was going to answer her on a Sunday. For all she knew, the Department of Public Education was closed for the holidays.
And today was all about being with Conner.
Her pulse skipped as his Jeep pulled into the driveway. With a last-minute check in the mirror, she hurried out of her room, said good-bye to her family in the kitchen, and met him at the front door.
His smile warmed her to her toes. “You look terrific,” he said, offering his arm.
“Thanks. I worked on it.” And she had. She’d chosen to wear her new forest green sweater, with jeans and miniature Christmas bell earrings. She’d taken pains with her makeup, too, although she’d held back on the mascara and lipstick. Too much, and she’d start to look like Lacy.
“Have you heard any more about how Travis is?” she asked as he helped her into the Jeep.
“Maggie called me this morning. He’s doing better, but they want to keep him one more night.” He backed out of the driveway and headed in the direction of the highway.
“Poor Maggie must be exhausted. Did she say anything about the wedding?”
“I expect that right now the wedding
is the least of her concerns. She just wants Travis to be all right.”
“That’s true love for you,” Megan said. “Maggie’s waited years for the beautiful wedding she wants. But she knows what’s really important, and that’s all that matters.”
“Yeah. Travis is a lucky guy to find a woman who loves him that much. So is Rush. All I can do is hope that when my turn comes, I’ll be lucky, too.”
The sidelong glance he gave her was unreadable. Was his comment leading somewhere? Was it meant for her?
“I keep thinking about the accident,” he said. “When I looked back and saw that pile of trees that had slid off the back of the trailer on top of Travis—Lord, that was the worst moment of my life. It’s hard not to blame myself. If Travis had been driving the ATV, or if I’d insisted on securing those trees with a second rope, or if I’d realized that the trailer was overloaded—or if I’d told him to stand back when I hit the gas on the ATV . . .”
“Don’t,” Megan said. “Accidents happen. It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t anybody’s fault.”
“Thanks. I needed somebody to tell me that. I’m glad it could be you.” Without taking his eyes off the road, he reached for her hand, found it with her help, and cradled it in his for a moment. Warmth radiated from the contact of his work-callused palm against hers. When he let go to manage the gears, Megan felt the emptiness in her hand. She was just beginning to realize how deeply she’d fallen for him.
Right now, their relationship was ripe with promise. But how would he react when he learned about her deception? If he turned his back and walked away, would she even want to stay in Branding Iron?
There was no way she could make a decision until she’d told him the truth.
“You told me you’d spoken with Maggie,” she said. “Have you talked with Travis at all?”