At home, she put the fresh turkey in the fridge and set about organizing the rest of her supplies for tomorrow. Maggie hadn’t cooked a Thanksgiving dinner since her father had passed away. She was looking forward to doing it again.
She’d almost finished sorting her supplies and setting out the pots and pans she’d need tomorrow morning when her phone rang. Her pulse did a little skip-hop when she saw the name on the caller ID.
“Hi.” Travis’s voice triggered a ripple of pleasure. They hadn’t seen each other since the night of the storm, but they’d kept in touch by phone. Their separation had only sharpened Maggie’s hunger to be in his arms again. Against her better judgment, she had fallen hard for the man. Past hurts had taught her to brace for the letdown that was sure to come. But for now, she was on top of the roller coaster, hooked on the sweet high of anticipation, too happy to let go and back away to a safe place.
“How’s it going?” she asked, trying to sound cool when all she really wanted was to throw down the phone and drive out to find him.
“Crazy. Everything’s got to be ready by Friday morning, and there’s still a lot of last-minute stuff to do. We’re running our legs off. We won’t even have time to sleep.”
“Well, at least you’ll need to eat. That’s why I’m bringing Thanksgiving dinner to your place tomorrow. I’ll do everything. All you three will have to do is show up at the table.”
There was silence on the other end of the call. Maggie’s heart sank. “Did I say something wrong?” she asked.
He sighed. “I know you mean well, Maggie, but we won’t have time to sit down together, even for a Thanksgiving dinner. We’ve got trees to cut, the yard display to set up, the signs to paint, and it all has to be done by the end of tomorrow.”
“But I’ve bought all the food! Surely you can spare half an hour to eat!”
“I’m sorry, but we have to be ready,” he said. “If you still feel like cooking, maybe you can invite somebody to your house.”
If he’d been in the room with her, Maggie would have been tempted to punch him. True, maybe she should have asked before she’d bought food and made plans. But what kind of man would turn down a lovingly prepared Thanksgiving dinner because he was too busy to sit down and eat it?
A mule-headed, stubborn man. That was the answer to her question. But she could be stubborn, too.
“I’ll be cooking dinner and bringing it,” she said. “If you and your friends don’t want any, I’ll share it with the dog!” With that, she ended the call before he could argue.
She got up early the next morning to stuff and roast the twelve-pound turkey and make the other preparations. But knowing her efforts might not be appreciated, or even welcomed, turned what might have been a pleasure to plain old drudgery.
By 2:00 PM, everything was cooked, covered, and loaded into the back of her car. Apprehension tightened a knot in the pit of her stomach as she backed out of the driveway. Maybe she shouldn’t have insisted on bringing dinner. Maybe she should have just left well enough alone.
Chapter 11
As she pulled up to the ranch gate, Maggie could see the changes in the front yard. A small fire pit had been dug and lined with stones. Wooden posts had been set up to hold strings of Christmas lights. Two racks, connected by long ropes, supported a row of cut Christmas trees, which Conner was unloading from a two-wheeled cart. They were beautiful trees, lush and green and fresh. Their fragrance stirred memories of childhood Christmases, when the pine aroma would fill the house.
Conner saw her, waved, and grinned. “Hi, Maggie! What brings you out this way?”
She walked around the car and opened the trunk. “I brought Thanksgiving dinner for you all. Didn’t Travis tell you I was coming?”
“Not a word. But it’s a hell of a nice surprise. Why wouldn’t he have said something?”
“He told me the three of you would be too busy to eat.”
“That sounds like Travis, all right. But he can damn well speak for himself,” Conner said. “I’m starved!” He leaned the tree he was holding against the rope stand and came toward the car. “Hang on, I’ll help you carry everything into the house. I could eat it all myself, but I guess I’d better call Rush and Travis. They’re out cutting more trees.”
“Tell Travis he doesn’t have to come if he’s too busy.”
Conner grinned. “We’ll see about that.” He took out his cell phone and made a quick call. Then he picked up the heavy covered pan with the roasted turkey in it and set off for the front porch.
Maggie followed, balancing the rolls and salad. Why couldn’t she have fallen for Conner? He was so easy to
like, so upbeat and charmingly irreverent. And she could tell he liked her.
But her heart had made its choice. Travis, with his troubled past and driven nature, could be a challenge. But his other qualities—tenderness, loyalty, and concern for others—more than made up for his darker side. He was a man who’d been deeply hurt, a man who was still struggling against the pain. If his pride would let her, she wanted to be there for him.
By the time she and Conner had brought everything inside, set the table, and carved the turkey, they heard the ATV roaring into the yard. At least somebody else was coming.
Travis and Rush, the new partner she had yet to meet, stomped the sawdust and pine needles off their boots and left their coats and gloves on the porch. As they came inside to wash, Travis gave Maggie a repentant look. “Smells great,” he said.
“Of course, if you’re too busy, you don’t have to eat any of it,” Maggie teased. His answering wink told her everything was all right between them. Her heart slipped back into its happy rhythm.