Maggie followed him inside. Even here there was a faint odor of skunk. But the place was clean and orderly, if sparsely furnished. The kitchen and living room were combined in one open space that was heated by an old-fashioned, wood-burning stove. Two unmatched armchairs, with a small table between them, faced the stove at a comfortable distance.
He motioned for her to sit, which she did. There was an air of quiet authority about him. But then he’d been a patrolman, Maggie reminded herself. She knew that prisoners tended to be rough on convicted cops. He couldn’t have had an easy time of it in prison. She was looking at one very tough man.
“Coffee?” he asked. “I just made some.”
“Sure, thanks. I take it black.” She let him pour her some in a chipped mug. It was hot and good.
“Bath soap won’t work on a dog that’s been skunked,” she said, breaking the silence. “What you need is tomato juice. You get a case of those big cheap cans and soak him in it. The juice neutralizes the spray. After that, you can bathe him with soap.”
“Thanks. That’s just one more thing I didn’t know,” he said. “Growing up, I never even had a dog, let alone horses. If you know anybody who wants Abner’s animals, they’d be doing me a favor. I only took them because the old man was desperate. He said they’d be put down if he went off and left them for the new owners. I guess I was a soft touch. But, Lord, I don’t know the first thing about taking care of them. It’s like suddenly having children dropped off on your doorstep.”
“I take it you’ve never had children.” She gave him a teasing smile, which didn’t seem to have much effect.
“Not a chance. At least I did something right.”
“Your neighbors have animals. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind giving you some help with them.”
“Maybe.” Stubborn pride showed in the set of his jaw. “But I don’t know my neighbors all that well, and I don’t like bothering them. I’ll figure things out on my own.”
He glanced at the cup she’d put down. The flames that glowed through the stove’s mica panes reflected fiery glints in his eyes. “More coffee?”
“Thanks, but I’ve had enough.” Maggie realized she’d lost track of her reason for coming here. She rose. “I need to get back to work. The parade is the Saturday before Christmas. Since you’ve got the sleigh and horses here, can I count on your help in getting the rig to town?”
He hesitated. Maggie could tell he didn’t want to get involved. “I’ve never handled horses,” he said. “You’ll want to recruit somebody who knows what they’re doing, especially with those big Percherons. They’ll need an expert hand.”
“I’ll keep that in mind, but you could always help with the sleigh.”
“Parades have never been my thing. I’ve already regretted saying yes to Abner. Don’t expect me to say yes again.”
“Well, let me know if you change your mind. Meanwhile, I’ll be beating the bushes for somebody else to play Santa and man the sleigh.” She started for the door.
“I’ll walk you to your car,” he said, taking her elbow. “That front step has a loose board I’ve been meaning to fix.”
Maggie’s pulse quickened at the light physical contact. He was only being a gentleman, she told herself. But the flush of heat made her feel like a hormonal sixteen-year-old. As his grip tightened going down the rickety wooden steps, her heart raced. How long had it been since the last time she was this close to an attractive man? Evidently too long. She was in a bad way.
At the bottom of the steps, she pulled a little away from him. “Thanks.” Her voice came out slightly breathless. “I’ll be fine from here.”
“Okay. Be careful. And have a nice day, Mayor Maggie.” As she fled to her car, he stood watching her, an amused smile on his lean, chiseled face.
Maggie willed herself not to look back as she drove away. That would be bad form, especially if he was still watching her. Clearly, Travis wanted no part of the Christmas parade. But she needed his help, and she hadn’t given up on him—far from it, in fact. She hadn’t made it to the middle management of a large company—or been elected mayor of a small town—without a talent for getting people to do what she wanted.
She was just starting on Travis Morgan. And she knew exactly what she was going to do first.
Chapter 4
Later that morning, when Travis opened the front door to go out and check the mail, he found a large cardboard carton on his porch.
What the devil . . . ? His first thought was that Abner had left him more orphaned animals—chickens, maybe. But when he nudged it with the toe of his boot, it was solid and heavy, the top glued shut as if it had come from a factory. There was no name on it, not even his.
Whipping out his pocketknife and opening the blade, he crouched beside the box and slit the flaps. The box was packed with layers of giant economy-sized cans, a dozen in all. Only when he lifted one can out of the box and saw the label did he realize what it was.
Tomato juice. Enough to give Bucket a good bath.
Travis managed to laugh and swear at the same time. Only one person could have been responsible for this gift—sexy Mayor Maggie.
Had she lugged it up the steps herself or hired one of the baggers at Shop Mart to sneak up and deliver it? Either way, Maggie had to be behind it.
Travis didn’t like accepting favors, even small ones. It made him feel obligated—which was probably just what Maggie wanted. She didn’t strike him as a woman who’d do something for nothing. But short of storming into her office and returning the juice—a stupid idea, since he needed it—he had no choice except to be in her debt.