Holding Out for Christmas (The Christmas Tree Ranch #3)(30)

Dorcas frowned at Megan as if to say, Now look what you’re getting him into. “All right,” she said. “But on one condition. You go with your brother, Megan, and you stay the whole time to keep an eye on him. Otherwise, my answer is no.”

“Aw, Mom, I don’t need a babysitter,” Daniel argued.

“You heard me. Megan stays with you, or you stay home. Are you willing to go and keep your brother safe, Megan?”

“Of course.” With Daniel gone, Megan had planned to spend time working on the new song she was writing. But that would have to wait. “We’ll have a good time, won’t we, Daniel,” she said.

Dorcas nodded and smiled in her tight-lipped way. “Fine. Then it’s settled. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll get back to work. Thank you again for fixing dinner, Megan. Let me know when it’s ready. Your dad should be home soon.” With that, she turned her chair and vanished into her studio.

Megan cleared up the bowls and utensils from the cookie making and sent Daniel outside to empty the trash before she started on supper. She could still feel the sting of her mother’s rebuke, but she’d long since learned to accept where it came from.

Life had dealt Dorcas Carson a bitter hand, but she made the best of it, taking refuge in her art and her family. Any change, like Daniel’s injury and his wanting to drive, threatened the peace of her home and roused her protective instincts. She could be sharp with those she loved, but that was her way.

Megan fried the meat and onions, added the other ingredients for the sauce, and put the pan on the back burner to simmer. She was just beginning to realize how much her family needed her. Her mother’s health was worsening in small ways. Her father was burdened with responsibility, and Daniel seemed to be constantly testing his limits.

Was it selfish on her part to want a life in Nashville, with her job, her friends, and the singing career that, despite her best efforts, had never really taken off?

Could she give up her dream to make a life in this close-knit little town, where she still felt like a stranger?

Could she live with herself if she refused to make that sacrifice for her family?

No one else, not even Derek, could tell her what to do. She would have to make that decision herself.

As if the thought of Derek could summon him, her cell phone rang. This time, the caller ID confirmed that it was her boyfriend, probably checking up on her. At least he cared about her—and at least he wasn’t in love with Lacy. Two points in his favor.

With a sigh, she picked up the call.

*

For Christmas Tree Ranch, that Saturday was expected to be the busiest day of the season. Customers would be coming from as far away as Cottonwood Springs to buy trees, ride in the sleigh, and treat themselves to free cocoa and marshmallows by the fire.

Conner had been up since first light getting everything ready for the 9:00 opening. But even perfect preparation couldn’t keep some things from going wrong—like the phone call from one of the two high schoolers they’d hired to tend the fire and refreshments. He was sick and wouldn’t be able to work. So they were already short-handed.

Daniel would be here, but Conner had hired him mostly as a way to get Megan back to the ranch. The kid could greet customers and invite them to look around, but trusting him with fire and hot liquids might be pushing things. Travis and Rush, who’d promised to be here, would be busy selling trees. Conner would be driving the sleigh. Somehow they would just have to manage.

At least the weather was cooperating. The chilling wind was gone, and the sun shone like a new penny in the cloudless winter sky. Hopefully, it would be a great day for business, both here and at Hank’s Hardware, which was also stocked with their trees.

At a quarter to nine, two vehicles appeared, coming down the lane from the highway turnoff. One was Rush’s Hummer. Behind it, he recognized Megan’s Toyota.

Rush pulled into the side yard, strode around the Hummer, and opened the passenger door. A little dark-haired girl in a red coat tumbled out and raced across the yard to fling herself at Conner’s legs.

“Clara!” Conner swung her off her feet. She giggled as he lifted her high. “Good golly, Miss Molly, but you’re getting big!”

When he put her down, she ran to hug Travis. Then it was Bucket’s turn. The dog wagged his tail like a maniac, whining with joy and licking her face.

Conner had seen Rush’s stepdaughter last summer, but she was five now, and growing like a little weed, all long legs.

“I hope you don’t mind my bringing her,” Rush said. “When she heard I was coming here, she wouldn’t be left behind.”

“And she’s got you wrapped and tied in a bowknot around her little finger,” Travis teased. “Sure, we don’t mind. But she’ll have to promise to stick around the house and not go wandering off. Okay, sugar?” He gave her a stern look.

“Okay.” She grinned, still hugging the dog. Delighted as he was to see her, Conner added the little girl to his mental list of concerns.

Megan parked her car next to the shed, leaving plenty of room for customers to park in the driveway. Conner watched her climb out of the car. She looked pretty this morning, her face flushed with cold, her hair mostly covered by a pink hat with a little white pom-pom at the crown.

As she walked around the car to help her brother, he tried to picture her as the singer who’d knocked him out with her glamour. The long black wig, the makeup, the boots . . . yes, she could pull it off. But the real Megan was so different from the figure he still thought of as his dream woman.