Holding Out for Christmas (The Christmas Tree Ranch #3)(46)

After the call ended, she entered the number he’d given her for Ronda May. To her relief, she got the woman’s voicemail. Megan left a message about the job opening at Shop Mart, put her phone away, and headed out of the parking lot.

She’d told Conner she had some big decisions to make. But she hadn’t given him many details—like the conversation she’d had with her father about the teaching vacancy here in Branding Iron. It seemed she was finding more and more reasons to stay. One of those reasons was Conner.

But could she sacrifice the singing career she’d struggled so hard to build—the gigs that were just beginning to pay? And could she depend on Conner to be there for a long-term relationship?

“I want you, Megan Carson.” The memory of his words triggered a flush of heat. The man wasn’t one to beat around the bush—just one of the things she loved about him. And she did love him, she realized with a mild shock. Whether she’d meant to or not, she’d fallen head over heels for the heart-melting cowboy.

But was what he felt for her real and lasting? Or would he forget her at the Christmas Ball, the moment Lacy Leatherwood, with her fake hair, high-heeled boots, and false eyelashes, strutted onto the stage?

*

When his cell rang again, Conner was restocking the tree display. His pulse kicked into high gear as he worked the phone out of his pocket. Maybe it was Megan. Maybe she’d changed her mind about waiting till Sunday.

But the caller wasn’t Megan. It was Ronda May.

“I need to talk to you, Conner.” He could tell she’d been crying. “Can I come out to the ranch? Or can you meet me somewhere?”

“I’m working, and my partners are here,” Conner said. “If you need to talk, I can spare you a few minutes on the phone. That’s the best I can offer right now.”

She sighed. “I guess that’ll have to do.”

“Fine, give me a minute to get somewhere private.” Both Conner’s partners were giving him curious looks. He signaled a time-out and carried the phone into the house. He could tell that Ronda May needed a listening ear, and he cared enough to give her that. But he wasn’t about to let her trap him again, especially since he’d mended fences with Megan.

“So, what’s going on?” he asked, lowering himself to the edge of the sofa.

She sniffled, clearly distraught. “I ran into Chuck today. He wants me back. He begged me to marry him. He even made me take back his ring.”

Conner stifled a groan. “Wait a minute,” he said. “Didn’t Chuck cheat on you?”

“Uh-huh. But he said he was sorry. He only wanted to make me jealous so I’d pay more attention to him. So in a way, it was my fault.”

“How did you answer him?” Conner asked.

“I said I’d think about it—but only if he’d swear on the Bible to never cheat again.”

“So, why are you calling me? And why are you crying? It sounds like you’ve already made up your mind.”

There was silence on the other end of the call.

“Have you?” Conner asked.

He could hear her sobbing. “No . . . there’s one more thing,” Ronda May said. “Something I haven’t told anybody.”

“I’m listening.”

“Before, when we broke up, after I caught him cheating, we had a big fight. He hit me, Conner. He punched me in the side of the face, hard enough to leave a bruise. I had to cover it with makeup. But he said he was sorry. He promised not to do it again.”

“And do you believe him?”

“I want to.”

“But do you really?”

The only reply was silence.

Conner mouthed a curse. “Listen to yourself, Ronda May. Why are you asking me whether you should marry a man who cheats on you and hits you, when you already know the answer to that question?”

“You’re saying I shouldn’t marry him?”

“I’m not saying anything. You’re a smart girl. You figure it out.” Conner took a deep breath and changed the subject. “Megan said she had a talk with you.”

“Uh-huh. She was trying to be nice, I guess. She even left me a voicemail this morning. I haven’t listened to it yet. Maybe I won’t.”

“Maybe you should.” Conner glanced up to see Rush standing in the doorway. “I’ve got to go,” he said. “But think long and hard before you say yes to that cowboy. You deserve a good man who’ll treat you the way a woman should be treated. And he’s out there, Ronda May. You just need to keep looking.”

Rush grinned as Conner followed him outside. “I figured you needed rescuing,” he said.

“Thanks,” Conner said. “I want Ronda May to be happy, but she’s got to learn to make her own decisions. She can’t expect me or any other man to make them for her.”

“Well, I hope that man doesn’t turn out to be Chuck Bartle,” Rush said. “If he treats his women the way he treats his animals . . .” He let the words trail off. “How are things with you and Megan?”

“Good. And I want to keep them that way.” Conner walked down the steps, whistling. He was already counting the hours until Sunday.

*

The next afternoon, Megan put on the wool slacks and blazer she’d packed, took her wrapped gift, and drove to Tracy’s for the bridal shower. Tracy’s house, just two streets over from Maggie’s, was a neat Arts and Crafts bungalow with an overhanging roof and a broad, covered porch.