My Kind of Christmas (The Christmas Tree Ranch 1)

She could pay a visit to the county clerk’s office later and sneak a look at the application. But snooping was beneath the dignity of her office. The only honest way to learn what the two men were up to would be to win back Travis’s trust. And that wasn’t going to be easy.

It was time to get some good, old-fashioned advice.

She busied herself with other things until Travis’s truck had left the parking lot. Then, knowing better than to use her office line, she took her cell phone out of her purse and called Francine’s number.

“Hello, honey.” Hearing Francine’s voice was like sinking into a cushiony pillow. “How is Operation Santa Claus coming along?”

Maggie had to smile at the name Francine had given their secret mission. “I may have had a breakthrough,” she said. “But I’ll need to play my hand very carefully. Otherwise, I might make things worse. Before I tell you about it, is there anything new on your end?”

“Not really new. I talked with Hank again. What he really wants is to make peace with his son. If—and it’s a very big if—they could put the past behind them and at least be civil to each other, he says he’d be willing to put on that red suit and climb into that sleigh.”

Maggie sighed. “Well, at least that’s a good start. But I’m just beginning to learn how stubborn Travis can be.”

“So what about you, honey? Any progress?”

Maggie related everything that had happened at Buckaroo’s that afternoon. “Conner’s very likable,” she said. “I think having him around will be good for Travis. But when I offered to take the sleigh off their hands, Conner wouldn’t hear of it. They’re planning something, but they don’t want to let me in on the secret.”

“So what’s next?” Francine asked.

“I’m not sure. Maybe I should just back off and leave them alone. But we do need the sleigh and horses for the parade. That makes it my business to find out what’s going on.”

“And it gives you a good excuse to snoop,” Francine teased.

“Travis said I could come by and pick up the box with the Santa costume in it. I thought I might go tonight. But I want to make sure the situation doesn’t just go from bad to worse. How do you think I should handle it?”

“Honey, you’re dealing with a couple of healthy, red-blooded males,” Francine said. “I have just two words of advice for you.”

“Two words?”

Francine chuckled. “Bring food.”

* * *

Travis and Conner stood by the gate, watching as Bucket rounded up the horses and herded them toward the barn. With the setting sun, the air had taken on a chill. A dry wind rustled the yellow grass along the fence.

“I’ve got to hand it to that dog of yours. He really knows his stuff,” Conner said. “And the horses look good. They’re old, but I can tell they’ve had decent care.”

“They seem pretty calm,” Travis said. “I haven’t had any trouble leading them, but I’ve never tried hitching them up or driving them. I wouldn’t know where to start.”

“Nothing to it,” Conner said. “After a few lessons, I’ll have you driving like a mule skinner.”

“You still haven’t told me why you wanted to keep the sleigh,” Travis said as they walked behind the dog and horses to close the stalls.

“In the summer, when I was growing up, my grandpa used to hire out his old hay wagon and team for nighttime hayrides,” Conner said. “Church groups, family groups, whatever, they all had a great time, and it paid pretty well. Grandpa could play the guitar and sing, and he’d have me drive the team. Afterward, there’d be hot chocolate or, if they wanted to pay extra, a barbecue.”

“I see where you’re going with this,” Travis said. “We could do sleigh rides. We’ve got horses and a sleigh. All we need is snow.”

“What are the chances of that?” Conner asked.

“Around here, it’s a toss-up. Some years we get plenty of snow. Other years we barely get a flake or two.”

“Then we’ll just have to trust our luck, won’t we?”

Travis paused to think. “I’ve got an old hay wagon. I used it last summer—pulled it with the tractor. We could always do winter hayrides. But it wouldn’t be as much fun as a sleigh.”

“We’ve got time to figure that out. First, we need to decide how to sell the trees.”

The two of them walked back toward the house, with Bucket trailing behind. They’d spent much of the afternoon at the kitchen table, talking, taking notes, and filling in parts of their business license application. Neither of them had thought of supper. Now they were getting hungry.