Holding Out for Christmas (The Christmas Tree Ranch #3)(47)

When she rang the bell, it was Rush’s precocious little girl, Clara, who opened the door. Megan had heard the story of how Rush, after five years in his first marriage, had learned that Clara was fathered by his wife’s lover. Last year, through some legal maneuvering, he’d been able to get partial custody of the child he adored as his own. Clara now spent her summers and Christmas holidays with Rush and Tracy.

“Hi, Megan!” She was grinning, bouncing with pleasure. “I remember you and Daniel from the ranch. Come on in. You’re the first one here.”

A sleek calico cat jumped off the sofa and made a beeline for the front door. Clara snatched her up, laughing. “No, you don’t. It’s too cold to go outside.” Still holding the cat, Clara looked up at Megan. “Do you like cats?”

“I do, very much, but I don’t have one.” Megan stroked the silky back and felt the tremor of a purr.

“This is Rainbow,” Clara said. “I named her that because she has all the cat colors. Last year, she had babies. I have one of her babies at home. His name is Snowflake because he’s all white. He has a carrier to travel in, but I didn’t bring him because he doesn’t like the airplane. Come on. You can put your present here on the coffee table.” Still chattering, the little girl led the way across the living room, which was decorated for Christmas, with a glittering tree in one corner.

“Hi, Megan!” Tracy called from the kitchen. “Come on in here. I’m glad somebody’s right on time.”

“That comes from being a teacher,” Megan said, stepping through the kitchen door. “When the bell rings, you have to be ready to start class. The trouble is, it carries over into other things. When it comes to parties, I tend to arrive before everyone else. But now that I’m here, I hope you’ll let me help you. What can I do?”

“Let’s see . . .” Tracy glanced around the kitchen. “How about arranging that snack tray and putting it out—the cheese and crackers, the dip, and the other things you see there. I should have done it earlier. Now I’m running out of time.”

“Sure.” Megan washed her hands, found a set of tongs, and began arranging food on the round teakwood tray. “Thanks again for inviting me. I need to know more people in Branding Iron, especially now that there’s a chance I might be staying—only a chance, mind you. I’m still weighing my options.”

“You mean you wouldn’t go back to Nashville? Don’t you have a job there?”

“I do. But if I give notice now, they shouldn’t have a problem finding somebody else. And my dad mentioned that the first-grade teacher here in Branding Iron is pregnant and plans to quit as soon as the school can find a replacement. It’s almost like things are falling into place. But if I were to stay, it would mean giving up my singing career, such as it is.”

“And what about Conner?” Tracy asked. “How’s that going?”

“Still in time-out while I figure out my life.” Megan used the tongs to make a line of cheese slices around the outside edge of the tray. “But we’re talking. I guess that’s a good sign.”

“I hope so. When he brought you to that dinner at Maggie’s, I could tell he really liked you. Have you told him about your secret identity?”

“Not yet. I keep putting it off.”

“Well, I wouldn’t put it off too long. Conner’s pretty easygoing about most things, but he’s a proud man. He doesn’t like being played for a fool.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” As Megan was finishing the tray, the babble of voices reached her ears. “It sounds like your guests are arriving. Do you want me to take this tray out now?”

“Yes, thanks. Maybe you can help Clara with the welcoming while I do a few last-minute things. Then we’ll get the party started.”

There were twelve guests at the shower, counting the bride. Some were women who’d worked with Maggie in the city building. Megan had met a few others before—Jess Marsden, the sheriff’s wife, and Francine, her mother, who ran the Bed and Breakfast; Connie Parker, who was Katy’s mother, and also Katy, who’d gotten time off from work to come. The remaining women were ranch wives, Travis’s neighbors. All of them were friendly.

Megan’s mother hadn’t been invited. But even if she had been, she probably wouldn’t have come. She was self-conscious about her disability and had made no effort to socialize with people in Branding Iron. That was a shame, because these women would have welcomed her, Megan thought. Maybe if she stayed, she could try to get her mother out of the house and help her make some friends.

Megan had half expected Ronda May to walk in the door. But as time passed and there was no sign of her, Megan relaxed and enjoyed the sense of relief.

Tracy had laid out an elegant buffet of croissant sandwiches, fresh fruit, salads, and cheeses, with a choice of wine or nonalcoholic punch. The guests nibbled, sipped, and visited, most of the talk centering on Maggie and her coming wedding.

“You’ve never told us how you and Travis met. How about a story?” The question came from a receptionist in the city office building.

Maggie, looking radiant in a dark green sweater with silver earrings, laughed. “It was like something out of a romance novel,” she said. “Remember that big ice storm we had a couple of years ago? Travis was still living alone then. His windmill was frozen, and he had to climb to the top and free up the vanes so it would turn. I was driving past the ranch on my way home from an errand when my car hit a slick spot and slid into the ranch gate. Travis was climbing down when it happened. He was so distracted that his feet slipped on the icy ladder, and he fell all the way to the ground.” Maggie shook her head. “I came flying out of the car, half-afraid that I’d killed him. But then, as I looked down at him, he opened those beautiful eyes . . . Oh, my, I just melted.”