Holding Out for Christmas (The Christmas Tree Ranch 3)

Warm under downy quilts, Megan was already beginning to drift. As she sank into sleep, lulled by the wind, images swirled and faded, leaving only one that lingered—a shadow-cast face with clean-cut features and impossibly blue eyes.

* * *

Inching through whiteout conditions, Conner took almost forty-five minutes to make the short drive back to the ranch. By the time he drove in through the gate and parked the truck under the open shed, the fallen snow was up to the rims of the oversized tires. It was as fluffy as eiderdown, blowing in drifts around Conner’s feet, covering his tracks as he crossed the yard to the front porch.

He was stomping the snow off his boots when Travis opened the door. “What? You didn’t bring pizza?” he asked.

“You’re kidding, right?” Conner closed the door firmly behind him and bolted it. “It was all I could do to find the road. We can have pizza tomorrow night.”

“We can have pizza tomorrow night. But the next night Maggie’s invited us to her house for dinner, along with Rush and Tracy.”

“Great!” Conner shrugged out of his coat, fending off Bucket’s overly enthusiastic welcome with one hand. “Sometimes I wish I’d been sharp enough to take that woman away from you and marry her myself.”

“You tried, as I remember. In fact, you told me that if I didn’t propose to her, you were going to step in and take over.” Travis walked to the counter, filled Conner’s coffee mug, and handed it to him. “Did you rescue our sign?”

“It’s in the bed of the truck. You can help me bolt it back up tomorrow. It’ll take two of us to do the job. But there’s another thing.” Conner took a seat at the table, sipping the hot black coffee.

“Let me guess,” Travis said. “You didn’t just rescue the sign, did you?”

“Tomorrow, after we put up the sign, I’ll need to borrow your truck and that tow chain in the shed to pull a car out of a ditch.”

“All right. But you owe me the whole story.” Travis gave him a knowing wink. “A blonde, brunette, or redhead?”

Conner groaned. “Damn it, you think you’re smart, don’t you?”

“Hey, I’ve known you since high school, and you haven’t changed. So tell me, what does she look like, and how far did you get with her?”

“Hey, I just took her home. And she was a nice girl, a teacher. She was so bundled up that all I could see was her face, but she did look kind of cute. Brunette, I think. I offered to pick her up in the morning and pull her car out, so she could drive it home. Maybe something will work out, maybe not.”

Travis reached down, scratched Bucket’s ears, and gave him a bite-sized piece of leftover doughnut. “I thought you were holding out for your dream woman to show up at the ball.”

“That’s the plan. In the meantime, there’s no harm in having a little fun, is there?”

Travis shook his head. “Something tells me you’re having too much fun. When are you going to grow up and settle down?”

Conner grinned. “Maybe when I find a woman who can hold a candle to your Maggie. Don’t worry. When the time’s right, and when I find the right lady, I’ll know.”

“Well, for what it’s worth, Maggie told me you were welcome to bring a date to dinner tomorrow night. If things click with your new friend, why not invite her?”

“We’ll see. If it’s a yes, I’ll let Maggie know.” Conner wolfed down the last doughnut, finished his coffee, and put the mug in the sink. His injured hip was throbbing from the cold. But the pain was nothing that a long, hot shower, some Tylenol, and a good night’s sleep wouldn’t cure.

“Help yourself to the hot water,” Travis said. “I figured you’d probably need it.”

“Thanks.” Conner kicked off his wet boots, set them behind the stove to dry, and headed down the hall. Travis was always thinking of other people’s needs. Maybe that kind of unselfishness was what made a man a good husband and father. If that was true, Conner reflected, he had a long way to go.

He’d been on his own since high school, which was when his parents had gone their separate ways. Hard experience had taught him to look out for number one. Aside from the animals he’d cared for, he’d never taken responsibility for anyone but himself.

His relationships never lasted. Either the women gave up waiting for him to care, or they became so needy that Conner ended up feeling trapped.

But lately, seeing his partners with the women they loved, the tenderness, the closeness, the shared fun, Conner had begun to realize that something was missing from his life. He wanted what his friends had. But he didn’t know how to find it, let alone keep it.

In the shower, he let the hot water run down his body, warming him and easing the pain in his hip. He was dog tired, but the prospect of learning more about the pretty schoolteacher had him looking forward to morning. He hadn’t gotten a good look at her, but what he’d seen he liked—big brown eyes and slightly elfin features below the knitted cap she’d worn. And he could tell she was smart. He liked smart women.

Humming to himself, he pulled on the thermal pajamas that kept him warm at night and crawled into a bed that always started out cold.

Megan Carson. Nice name. Nice girl. He already liked her—especially that sweet, slightly husky voice.

But aside from a few dates and maybe a few kisses, he didn’t plan to get serious. He was holding out for the Cowboy Christmas Ball and Lacy Leatherwood, the ebony-haired goddess who’d walked onstage last year and walked off with his heart.