Holding Out for Christmas (The Christmas Tree Ranch #3)(21)

“Let me guess. Maggie wants a proper celebration,” Conner said.

“You got it. She wants a big whoop-de-do for the whole town. A church wedding with a walk down the aisle, followed by a reception for everybody, with a fancy cake and dancing to live music—the whole works. She’s even got the money saved up to pay for it—like she doesn’t need me except to stand there and put the damned ring on her finger.”

“I’m surprised the two of you haven’t worked this out before now. Most brides have their weddings planned months in advance.” Conner recalled Ronda May, who’d figured out the whole production, except for the groom.

“Well, you know how it is.” Travis massaged the kinks in his lower back. “I’ve been busy running the ranch, and Maggie’s had a full-time job as mayor. In the little time we’ve found to spend together, we’ve had better things to do than talk about the wedding. I assumed we’d . . . you know . . . just get married and be done with it. Now, last night, Maggie dropped the whole damned three-ring circus on me. She’s even got the church reserved and the invitations ordered. And I’ll have to rent a tux—so will you, if you’re going to be my best man.”

“When were you going to ask me?”

“I’m asking you now, I guess. I hadn’t even thought about it until Maggie brought it up. You know, I remember Rush and Tracy’s wedding last summer. That wasn’t a big affair. Just a few friends, Tracy in a pretty dress, Rush in a suit. Rush’s little girl holding the bouquet. It was nice. I’d go for something like that.”

“Tracy was a widow,” Conner said. “A big, fancy wedding wouldn’t have been fitting. But this will hopefully be Maggie’s only wedding, and she’s waited a long time for it. Why not just give in and let her enjoy it? What’s the harm in that?”

Travis poured more coffee and sat at the table, staring down into the steaming mug. In the silence, Conner tried to imagine what lay at the root of his friend’s unease. Six years ago, after a trial that had made statewide headlines, Travis, then a highway patrolman, had been sentenced to three years in prison for shooting a suspected kidnapper. Travis had emerged from the ordeal a bitter man who fiercely guarded his privacy. Maggie and his partners had done wonders in bringing Travis out of his shell. But now, even at a happy time, the idea of being the center of attention, surrounded by crowds of people, having to talk to them and answer questions, had struck a layer of buried pain that would always be part of Travis. It might not be rational. But it was very real.

“I know that you love Maggie,” Conner said.

“I do.”

“And I know you’d do anything to make her happy.”

“I would. That goes without saying.”

“Then let me offer you a piece of advice.”

“Since when are you offering advice?” Travis asked. “I’ve never known you to stick with a woman long enough for marriage to become a question—unless you count Ronda May trying to lasso you and drag you to the altar last year. And then all you wanted was a clean getaway.”

“Point taken,” Conner said. “But I know a lot about women. Deny Maggie her perfect wedding day, and she’ll never forget it. It’ll come up in fights you have ten years from now—if the two of you last that long.”

“But if I can talk some sense into her, maybe some kind of compromise—”

“Don’t be an idiot, Travis. Just bite the damned bullet and let her have her big wedding. If you can’t enjoy it, just keep reminding yourself that it’s only for one day. You can put up with anything for one day. After that, you’ll have lovely Maggie as your wife for as long as you both shall live.”

Travis put down his cup, pushed back his chair, and stood without a word of reply.

“Think about it,” Conner said. “Give her everything she wants that day. Maggie’s earned it. She deserves that much.”

“I’ll think about it.” Travis sounded unconvinced. “Right now, we’ve got chores to do.”

Conner glanced out the front window, where the sun was rising on a day that promised to be clear. “Where’s Rush? He’s usually here by this time. Did he have an emergency?”

“Rush told us at dinner,” Travis said. “He’s flying to Phoenix this morning to pick up Clara.”

“Clara’s coming? That’s great news!” Last year, Rush’s stepdaughter, then four years old, had stayed at the ranch over the holidays. Conner had never thought much about becoming a parent, but being around that charming, wise little girl had made him wonder what it might be like to have children of his own.

“I guess you weren’t listening to Rush last night,” Travis said. “You were too busy paying attention to that pretty new friend of yours. How did it go, by the way?”

“Good and not so good. We’ll see what happens.” Conner didn’t feel up to rehashing his evening with Megan. He only knew that he wanted to see her again and dreaded the thought that she might say no the next time he asked her out.

“For the record, I was impressed with her,” Travis said. “Maggie and Tracy liked her, too, I could tell. Hey, buddy, she just might be the one—unless you’re still stuck on that hot singer, who might not even show up again.”