The horses were waiting at the pasture gate. After turning Patch and Chip into the barn, the two men stumbled into the house to gulp down milk and warmed-over pizza from the fridge. They’d planned to work on their advertising plan, but they were too tired to think. It was all they could do to shower and fall into bed.
Lying in the darkness, Travis found himself too wired to sleep. What if they’d bitten off more than they could chew? What if they gave this project their all and still couldn’t be ready in time to sell their trees?
Time wasn’t the only problem. They were also running out of cash, and they had yet to buy what they needed for their display. Hell, they could barely afford to keep food on the table and the lights on in the house.
They needed help, or a damned miracle.
Even thinking about Maggie wasn’t enough to settle him for sleep. He wanted to pursue what was between them. But Maggie was a classy woman who deserved the best a man could offer her—and he had nothing. How could he ask her to wait, when he couldn’t even afford a cheeseburger date at Buckaroo’s?
After what seemed like hours of tossing and turning, he finally drifted off. He was deep in slumber when Bucket’s barking and a rap on the front door jerked him awake. He sat up and glanced at the bedside clock. It was 3:15 AM.
“What the hell . . .” Swearing, he staggered to his feet. There was no sign of life from Conner’s room but, as he’d already learned, when Conner was tired, he could sleep through an earthquake.
The house was dark. He cursed as he stubbed his bare toe on the coatrack. Bucket had stopped barking. His tail thumped as Travis turned on the porch light and opened the door.
Rush stood in the circle of light, looking dead on his feet. “Sorry to wake you,” he said. “I got halfway to Fort Worth and changed my mind about your offer. If you’ll still have me, I’m in.”
Travis managed a grin of relief. “You know where to find the couch and the bathroom,” he said. “We’ll talk in the morning.”
* * *
On the day before Thanksgiving, the city offices closed at noon. Maggie was just about to leave work when her cell phone rang. The caller was Francine. Maggie sank back into her chair to take the call.
“Hi, honey. Just wanted to wish you a happy holiday and see if you’d made any progress.”
“On the Santa search?” Maggie sighed. “No luck. Do you think Hank would do it if we rented a fancy convertible to use instead of the sleigh? He could sit up on the back and wave at the kids from there, with someone in the seat throwing candy. It wouldn’t be as good as the sleigh and horses, but it would be better than nothing.”
“I could ask him, honey, but I don’t think it would do any good. Hank’s a stubborn man, and he’s dug in his heels. He wants a reunion with his son—or at least a face-to-face chance to apologize. Hank told me what happened between them. It wasn’t pretty, but it was a long time ago. He’s a different man now. He’d like a chance to prove it.”
Maggie thought about the secret she knew—Travis’s plan to sell Christmas trees. She hadn’t shared that secret with anyone, especially Francine. But two days from now, Christmas Tree Ranch would be open for business. There was no way Hank was going to be happy about that.
“It’s not going to happen, Francine,” she said. “In fact, unless something changes, things are only going to get worse. I can’t tell you why, but you’ll find out soon enough.”
“Well, all right.” Francine sounded mildly piqued. Maggie knew she liked to be up on all the goings-on around town. But Travis and his partners were planning to open with a bang on the day after Thanksgiving. Nothing could be allowed to spoil the surprise.
She decided to change the subject. “I guess you’ll be having Thanksgiving dinner with your daughter’s family, won’t you?”
“That’s right, honey. Turkey and all the trimmings. Then I get to spend time with my little granddaughter. Hank’s coming, too. How about you, honey?”
Maggie hadn’t even thought about Thanksgiving dinner. Travis, who’d kept her updated with occasional phone calls, would be too busy to join her, and she had no family. “I could use a rest,” she said. “Maybe I’ll just sleep in, eat popcorn, and watch movies.”
“Oh, honey, that’s no good. Come have dinner with us. There’s always room for another place at the table.”
“That’s awfully nice of you, but I’ll figure something out. I’ll be fine.”
“Well, all right,” Francine said. “But we can’t give up on Operation Santa Claus. Keep me posted, honey, and I’ll do the same for you.”
Maggie thanked her and ended the call. Maybe Francine was right. Maybe there were better things to do on Thanksgiving Day than sleep in and watch movies. Even if Travis was too busy to come to her house, he and his friends would need to eat. She could fix a meal and take it to them at the ranch.
Still at her desk, she took time to jot down a list of things she’d need. Then she picked up her coat and purse, closed her office, and, sidestepping a lurking Stanley Featherstone on the way out, headed for her car and drove to Shop Mart.
The big box store was packed with pre-Thanksgiving shoppers. Maggie navigated her cart through jammed aisles, smiling at people she knew and apologizing when she blocked some shopper’s way. Locating everything she needed took a long time. She found herself, at last, in front of the bakery department.
She knew better than to wear herself out making pies and rolls from scratch. With so little time left, it made more sense to buy them.
She was looking through the glass counter at the pies on display when a familiar voice greeted her. “Hi, Miss Maggie.”
“Katy?” She spotted the petite, blond girl behind the counter. Silas and Connie Parker’s daughter, who had Down syndrome, was a favorite in Branding Iron. She’d always lived at home with her parents, but now that she was twenty-two years old, she was showing an independent streak.