My Kind of Christmas (The Christmas Tree Ranch 1)

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Travis stirred and opened his eyes. The lamp was on in the room, but the fire had burned down to coals. Aside from the TV, broadcasting an infomercial, the night was eerily still.

He could no longer hear the storm.

When he tried to move, he discovered that his left arm was numb and weighted in place. Maggie was nestled in the curve of it, still fast asleep.

Lord, what time is it? Blinking himself awake, he focused his gaze on the mantel clock above the fireplace. It was 1:15 AM.

He sat up straight and shifted his arm. Maggie opened her eyes, looking muzzy and adorable. “Hullo,” she murmured.

He bent his head and kissed the tip of her nose. “Wake up, sleepyhead,” he said. “It’s after one in the morning. I’ve got to get out of here before your neighbors start gossiping.”

“Is it still storming?” She pushed herself up and brushed her tousled hair back from her face.

“I haven’t looked, but I can’t hear it anymore. Whatever the weather’s like out there, I need to get going.”

She rose unsteadily to her feet. “Let me make you some coffee.”

“We’d better not take the time.” Travis picked up his coat, then paused to take her in his arms. “Things are bound to be crazy until after the holidays. If you don’t hear from me—”

“I know.” She touched his cheek. “I won’t take it personally. And things will be pretty crazy for me, too. We might have to put you and me off until after Christmas.”

“In that case, I’d like to reserve you for New Year’s Eve, if you’re free. We can dress up and go out on the town—”

“Or stay right here and snuggle,” she said. “I think I might like that even better.”

“Your choice. Got to go now.” He kissed her quick and hard, tearing himself away before temptation could keep him there any longer. Spending the rest of the night with her would be heaven. But it wasn’t going to happen now.

He pulled on his coat and stepped out onto the porch, closing the door behind him. The air was cold and still, the sky clear. But the hailstorm had left a thin layer of white on the ground. The roads would be slippery going home. At least he had decent tires, and there shouldn’t be much traffic at this hour.

The surrounding houses were all dark. Good. The last thing he wanted was to have some nosy neighborhood gossip causing trouble for Maggie. Nobody would believe how chaste their evening had been. Hell, Conner would have a field day with it. But he would just have to grin and bear his friend’s teasing.

He had to brush the hail off the truck, but once he was inside, it started right up. The road was like an ice rink, but as a patrolman, he’d driven under all sorts of conditions. Getting home shouldn’t be a problem.

Gearing down, he kept his speed at a steady twenty miles an hour. Progress was slow, but it was better than sliding off the road and getting stuck.

He remembered his premonition on the way here, the feeling that something was about to happen. If that “something” had meant finally getting on solid ground with Maggie, he would never complain again. That smart, sexy woman could be the best thing that had ever happened to him. Now, if he could just make his business plans work out, he’d be on top of the world.

Along Main Street, the lights gleamed on the icy white surface of the road. There was no traffic at this hour, but he stopped at the red lights anyway. Old habits died hard, even when a stop meant easing to a halt by tapping the brake to avoid a skid, then rolling forward until he gained enough traction to pick up speed again.

Ahead, he could see the last stoplight, where Main Street intersected with the highway. After that, the going would be easier—and he was in luck. This light was green. He pressed the gas pedal, just enough to give him a little more speed. He would barely make it.

The light turned yellow as he passed under the signal. He was just easing into the left turn when a pair of high-beam headlights almost blinded him. In the same instant, a huge, dark shape hurtled out of the darkness and slammed into the right side of the pickup, crumpling it inward like an empty soda can.

Anchored in place by his seat belt, Travis was flung to one side by the impact, but in the seconds it took for the shock to wear off, he realized he wasn’t hurt. However, from the way the far side of the truck was stove in, he would guess that the old Ford was totaled.

His trooper instincts kicked in. Somebody was in the other vehicle—somebody who might be injured and need help.

The frame had bent around the driver’s side door, but Travis managed to kick it open. Jumping to the ground, he ran around to the other side of the truck. That was when he saw what had hit him.

Even in the dark, it wasn’t hard to recognize the hulking outline of a black Hummer h1 Alpha.

The big off-road vehicle was built like a tank. The heavy grille bar on the front end, which had crushed the pickup, had protected the Hummer, which wasn’t likely even scratched.

But right now, that wasn’t his concern.

Sprinting to the driver’s side of the Hummer, Travis flung the door open. The man in the driver’s seat was rubbing his head, looking confused.