Holding Out for Christmas (The Christmas Tree Ranch #3)(7)
“Hey, I’ve known you since high school, and you haven’t changed. So tell me, what does she look like, and how far did you get with her?”
“Hey, I just took her home. And she was a nice girl, a teacher. She was so bundled up that all I could see was her face, but she did look kind of cute. Brunette, I think. I offered to pick her up in the morning and pull her car out, so she could drive it home. Maybe something will work out, maybe not.”
Travis reached down, scratched Bucket’s ears, and gave him a bite-sized piece of leftover doughnut. “I thought you were holding out for your dream woman to show up at the ball.”
“That’s the plan. In the meantime, there’s no harm in having a little fun, is there?”
Travis shook his head. “Something tells me you’re having too much fun. When are you going to grow up and settle down?”
Conner grinned. “Maybe when I find a woman who can hold a candle to your Maggie. Don’t worry. When the time’s right, and when I find the right lady, I’ll know.”
“Well, for what it’s worth, Maggie told me you were welcome to bring a date to dinner tomorrow night. If things click with your new friend, why not invite her?”
“We’ll see. If it’s a yes, I’ll let Maggie know.” Conner wolfed down the last doughnut, finished his coffee, and put the mug in the sink. His injured hip was throbbing from the cold. But the pain was nothing that a long, hot shower, some Tylenol, and a good night’s sleep wouldn’t cure.
“Help yourself to the hot water,” Travis said. “I figured you’d probably need it.”
“Thanks.” Conner kicked off his wet boots, set them behind the stove to dry, and headed down the hall. Travis was always thinking of other people’s needs. Maybe that kind of unselfishness was what made a man a good husband and father. If that was true, Conner reflected, he had a long way to go.
He’d been on his own since high school, which was when his parents had gone their separate ways. Hard experience had taught him to look out for number one. Aside from the animals he’d cared for, he’d never taken responsibility for anyone but himself.
His relationships never lasted. Either the women gave up waiting for him to care, or they became so needy that Conner ended up feeling trapped.
But lately, seeing his partners with the women they loved, the tenderness, the closeness, the shared fun, Conner had begun to realize that something was missing from his life. He wanted what his friends had. But he didn’t know how to find it, let alone keep it.
In the shower, he let the hot water run down his body, warming him and easing the pain in his hip. He was dog tired, but the prospect of learning more about the pretty schoolteacher had him looking forward to morning. He hadn’t gotten a good look at her, but what he’d seen he liked—big brown eyes and slightly elfin features below the knitted cap she’d worn. And he could tell she was smart. He liked smart women.
Humming to himself, he pulled on the thermal pajamas that kept him warm at night and crawled into a bed that always started out cold.
Megan Carson. Nice name. Nice girl. He already liked her—especially that sweet, slightly husky voice.
But aside from a few dates and maybe a few kisses, he didn’t plan to get serious. He was holding out for the Cowboy Christmas Ball and Lacy Leatherwood, the ebony-haired goddess who’d walked onstage last year and walked off with his heart.
*
By morning, the storm had passed. The sun rose on a landscape of glittering white, under a sky of crystalline blue. The air was filled with the sound of shovels scraping walks and driveways and vehicles struggling to start.
Megan was up early to make French toast for the family, sparing her father the job that usually fell to him. The talk around the breakfast table had revolved around something new. Daniel was pushing to study for his driver’s license, insisting that he be allowed to try, at least. If he could pass the written test and learn to drive, he could use his savings from work to buy a small used car.
The discussion was still going on between Daniel and his father when they left—Daniel to be dropped off at Shop Mart on the way to the high school. Megan and her mother were left alone to visit and catch up.
“I’m worried about Daniel trying to drive.” Megan’s mother had multiple sclerosis and relied on a wheelchair to get around the house. But she’d insisted on helping Megan clear the table and load the dishwasher. “I mean, what if he can’t pass the written test or learn to handle a car. He’ll be devastated. Or worse, what if he passes, gets a car, and gets in an accident?”
“He deserves the chance to try.” Megan took her brother’s side. “People with Down syndrome do drive. I’ve seen them in Nashville. And Daniel’s smart. He did well in that special school he went to. He might need help studying for the test and practicing with a car, but if he could do it . . .” Megan paused to wipe the counter with a towel. “He’s twenty-four years old, Mom. He wants to be independent. He wants to be a man.”
“What he wants is to get married,” Dorcas said. “And if he learns to drive, that’ll be next. Katy is a little doll. We love her, and I know how happy she makes him. But they’re like children. Why can’t they just be friends?”
Megan sighed. Her mother had always been protective of Daniel. Convincing her to let go was going to take time. And it wouldn’t happen this morning. She closed the dishwasher and switched it on. “What have you painted since I was here last? I’d love to see your new pieces.”