Holding Out for Christmas (The Christmas Tree Ranch #3)(13)

For Megan, the rest of the day, and the day after, flew past. The house needed a thorough cleaning. There were piles of laundry to be done, groceries to be picked up, and Christmas presents to be bought and wrapped. She knew that her father did more than his share around the house, and even Daniel helped as much as he could. But with her mother’s limited ability, the work tended to fall behind. Megan was only too happy to pitch in and take up the slack.

Maybe, she thought, if she budgeted her earnings as a teacher, or, better yet, if she could earn more money as a singer, she could hire someone local to come in and help her family for a few hours each week.

Or you could just move back home, the voice of guilt reminded her. But that would mean giving up her dream of a singing career, maybe forever.

“Don’t you have a dinner date tonight?” her mother reminded her. “Look at the clock. It’s almost six.”

Megan glanced down at her dirt-smudged jeans and sneakers, rubber-gloved hands and the ragged sweatshirt she’d worn to tackle the laundry and storage rooms in the basement. Conner would be here to pick her up in forty-five minutes, and she was a mess.

Rushing back to her room, she shed her dirty clothes, hit the shower, and dressed in clean jeans, a new blue sweater, and comfy leather loafers. She could only hope that Conner hadn’t been joking about casual dress for the evening. She wouldn’t put it past him, she thought. The man had a bit of the devil in him, which somehow made him all the more intriguing.

She didn’t usually wear much makeup. But tonight she opted for a little lipstick, blush, and mascara, as well as a pair of simple pearl earrings. Anything to make her feel more confident. Despite what Conner had told her, the thought of the women she’d be meeting tonight gave her the nervous quivers. What if she made a fool of herself? What if they didn’t like her?

But then, again, what did it matter? If Conner never wanted to see her again after tonight, that was his loss.

Megan emerged from her room to find that Conner had already arrived. He was in the studio with her mother, admiring the pictures and asking questions about her work. Daniel was following him around like a puppy, interrupting him with talk about bull riding. Clearly, he’d already won them over. Only Megan’s father, Ed, grading a stack of papers at the kitchen table, seemed unimpressed.

Conner glanced around and saw her. His face lit in a grin. “Hey, you look great. Ready to go?”

“As soon as I get my coat—and something else.” Megan had picked up a bottle of the most expensive wine sold at Shop Mart, which wasn’t saying much, but it was the best she could do on short notice. Conner helped her into her coat and took her arm as they made their way down the icy sidewalk to his Jeep.

“I like your family,” he said. “Your mother’s artwork is amazing.”

“She’s done well with it. Her painting is what keeps her going.”

Conner didn’t answer at first. Megan imagined that he was thinking about her mother’s disabling illness and the challenges of raising a son with Down syndrome. “You’re lucky to have a family,” he said. “My parents split up when I was a teenager. They both went off, married other people, and had more kids. I just sort of fell through the cracks. I get a few Christmas cards from them. That’s about it.”

“I’m sorry. No family is perfect, but I’m grateful for the one I have.” Megan let Conner help her into the Jeep and waited while he went around the vehicle and climbed into the driver’s seat.

“My partners are my family now,” he said. “I can’t wait to have you meet them—and have them meet you.”

By the time they pulled up to the neat brick bungalow in the nicer part of town, Conner had briefed her on the people she’d be meeting. As they went up the walk, Megan scrolled through the names in her head, trying to remember who did what and who was with whom. Her stomach was fluttering. She would just have to wing it.

The door was opened by a tall, stunning redhead. Maggie the ex-mayor, engaged to Travis the ex-cop. So far, so good.

“Come in! I’m so glad to meet you, Megan.” Clad in jeans and a green blouse that matched her eyes, she stepped aside to usher Megan and Conner inside. “Oh, thanks!” she said as Megan handed her the wine. “The guys will be drinking beer, but I promise you, we women will love this.”

Two of the handsomest men Megan had ever seen were standing by the fireplace. The dark-haired George Clooney type would be Rush, the vet. The other, more of a Jude Law look-alike, would be Travis. They greeted her with friendly smiles.

“And here’s Tracy,” Conner said as a slim, blond woman walked out of the kitchen. “Come on, I’ll introduce you.”

As Tracy walked toward her, smiling, Megan stifled a gasp. She knew this woman. And what was worse, Tracy knew about her alter ego Lacy. One slip and the situation could get awkward.

Conner was oblivious to her discomfort. “Tracy,” he said, “this is my new friend, Megan. She—”

“But we’ve already met.” Tracy’s handclasp was warm and welcoming. “Remember, Megan? You drove Daniel to my house last year to get one of the kittens I was giving away. You told me you were a teacher—and then I discovered something amazing about you.”

Megan raised an eyebrow, her attempt at a warning glance. “That’s right, Tracy. I remember you very well. Why don’t you let me help you in the kitchen, and we can talk.”