My Kind of Christmas (The Christmas Tree Ranch #1)(11)


“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.

And Maggie, no doubt, would find a way to collect.

Surprisingly, he was looking forward to it.

*

Maggie had ordered the case of tomato juice from Shop Mart and promised one of the bag boys twenty dollars for delivering it. The money was waiting on the reception desk, to be picked up when he came by.

She would’ve enjoyed delivering it in person, just to see the look on Travis’s face. But the rest of her morning had been busy. The most pressing concern had been Branding Iron’s upcoming Christmas celebration. The holiday was more than six weeks away, but she was already feeling overwhelmed. So much to do—the Christmas lights wouldn’t go up until the day after Thanksgiving, but before that, the strings would need to be tested and the burned-out bulbs replaced. The town Christmas tree had to be chosen, bought, and set up; the Cowboy Christmas Ball planned by a committee; the parade organized and planned, with floats, dancers, and the Branding Iron High School Marching Band.

And then there was the star of the parade—Santa Claus and his sleigh. Until yesterday, she’d assumed it would be Abner again. Now everything was up in the air.

Maggie had spent much of the morning making phone calls. She’d called every man she could think of who might make a good Santa Claus. Nobody was willing. And none of the farmers and ranchers she’d spoken with had been interested in adopting Abner’s horses.

Janet Dailey's Books