Holding Out for Christmas (The Christmas Tree Ranch 3)

Conner strode toward the car, opened the trunk, and tossed her the keys. “What’s in it?” he joked, retrieving the suitcase. “A million dollars? A dead body?”

“You’ll see.”

The suitcase was medium-sized and not too heavy. Megan walked beside him as he carried it toward the porch. “I meant to ask,” she said. “How’s Travis?”

“Getting better. He’s at Maggie’s now. She’s giving him plenty of TLC. And the wedding’s still on track.”

“That’s great news. Nobody deserves a happy day more than those two.”

With Bucket tagging behind them, he carried the suitcase up the steps and through the front door. “Where do you want this?” he asked.

“On one of the beds, if that’s all right. Then I’ll need a minute alone to arrange things.”

“As Alice in Wonderland would say, this is getting ‘curiouser and curiouser.’” He glanced at Megan, hoping she’d return his smile. But she looked uneasy, as if she were about to confess to a crime.

“We’re using Rush’s old room as a spare these days,” he said. “At least it’s clean.” He carried the suitcase into the room and laid it on the patchwork coverlet. “Now what?”

“If you’ll step out for a minute, I’ll call you when I’m ready.”

As the door clicked shut, Megan opened the suitcase and laid the contents out on the bed: the wig, open makeup case, jeans, shirt, jacket, boots, and Stetson. She’d weighed the idea of putting everything on, but she didn’t want Conner to see her as Lacy. She wanted him to see the empty trappings of a woman who was only make-believe.

Hands shaking, she closed the suitcase and set it on the floor. Then, closing the door behind her, she went to get Conner. She found him in the kitchen, sipping a beer. “Liquid courage,” he said, putting the can on the counter. “You’ve got me worried. Are you ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be. Come on.” She led him back down the hall. “I’ve got a secret. It’s the reason I went to Nashville.”

“So, why did you go?” They had reached the door, which was still closed.

“I went to sing with the Badger Hollow Boys.” She opened the door, revealing the carefully arranged contents of the suitcase. “There’s your dream woman, Conner. Miss Lacy Leatherwood, or what there is of her.”

He stared at the things on the bed. Megan watched for his reaction. Would he be angry? Would he accuse her of playing him? But, no, what he did next took her completely by surprise.

He laughed.

“I don’t understand,” she said. “You think this is funny?”

“In a way, it is,” he said. “You see, I’ve got a secret, too. I’ve known who you were all along, almost from the beginning.”

“How . . .” She choked out the words. “Who told you? Maggie and Tracy?” Megan felt as if she’d been sucker punched. Had her so-called friends betrayed her?

“No way. Those two ladies would never rat on a friend. I figured it out by myself, when Daniel hurt his shoulder and I heard you in the backseat, singing to comfort him. ‘Walkin’ After Midnight.’ As soon as I heard that song, in that voice, I knew.”

She stared at him, feeling like a fool. “But why didn’t you tell me? What were you thinking?”

“I could ask you the same question.”

“I asked first.” She tried to read him. He seemed to be taking the whole situation as a joke. But to Megan, it wasn’t funny.

“All right. At first, it was fun, like a game. I enjoyed dating a woman with a secret identity. But then, as I started to care for you, I realized that you needed to be the one to tell me—to trust me enough to share who you really were.”

“Who I really was?” Megan’s insecurities flamed into anger. Lacy strikes again. She’d hoped Conner would be different. But that had been too much to expect. He was no different from the others. He wanted Lacy, not her.

“You think this is who I really am?” She picked up the wig and flung it at him. “Then take it! Take it all!”

He laid the wig back on the bed. “I just wanted you to be honest with me. I’m in love with you, Megan.”

The words cut like razors. He’d finally said them—but in the worst possible context.

“In love with me, are you?” She flung the words back at him. “When you held me in your arms, when you kissed me—was it me, or was it your dream woman you were kissing? Next you’ll be wanting me to play dress-up for you—and, believe me, you wouldn’t be the first man to ask.”