Holding Out for Christmas (The Christmas Tree Ranch #3)(8)

Dorcas smiled. “I’ve been busy. Come and look.”

Megan followed her mother into what had once been the dining room. With its north-facing window that gave perfect light for painting, and sliding doors for privacy, it had been converted to an art studio. As always, the small area was cluttered with easels, brushes, tubes of paint, palettes, and packets of expensive art paper. A long table was covered with sketches and finished pictures.

Megan had always loved her mother’s whimsical watercolors of flowers, children, and animals. Several years ago, her mom had acquired a good agent. Now prints of Dorcas Carson’s work were sold in galleries and boutiques all over the country. She’d also illustrated a number of children’s books. Her work hadn’t made her wealthy, but Megan knew how satisfying it was, and how essential it was to her mother’s well-being.

“I’ve been doing a book about butterflies. What do you think of these?” She pointed out several finished paintings that lay scattered on the table.

“They’re lovely. I especially like this blue one.” Megan glanced at her watch. It was 8:45.

“You keep checking the time,” Dorcas said. “Do you need to be somewhere?”

“Oh, didn’t I tell you? The man who brought me home last night said he’d come by at nine to help get my car out of the ditch. It’s early yet, but I want to be ready when he gets here.”

“Oh, that’s right. I remember Daniel saying that he’d been a champion bull rider.” Dorcas raised an eyebrow. “Is he good-looking?”

“He has nice eyes, but what does that matter? He’s only helping me with my car.”

“Well, you never know. But you’re almost thirty. I’d like to see you happy.”

Megan had been down this road before with her parents. “I’m happy now. I have a good job, and I’m starting to get more gigs as a singer. Life is good.”

“What about Derek, the man you said you’d been dating?”

“He’s all right. But I’m not sure he’s the one, if that’s what you’re wondering.” Megan knew better than to mention that Derek was already talking marriage. She’d always wanted a family. But the fact that Derek wasn’t too keen on her singing career was enough to make her hesitate.

“Your father and I would be delighted if you found someone from Branding Iron,” Dorcas said. “Then you could be close to your family.”

“Mom, if I want to make it as a singer, I need to be in Nashville. So don’t get your hopes up. Okay?”

Dorcas sighed. “Okay. Go put your lipstick on. If he’s a man of his word, he’ll be here soon.”

*

At 9:00 on the dot, Conner stopped the truck in front of the modest blue stucco house. He’d meant to knock on the door like a gentleman, but as soon as he pulled up, Megan stepped outside and came down the walk to meet him. Was she sending some kind of hidden message, leaving him to figure it out? Like maybe she wasn’t interested in anything that even resembled a date?

He did make it out of the truck in time to open the door for her. This morning, he could see that she was even prettier than he’d imagined—dark hair, which she wore in a soft pixie cut that framed her delicate features, sparkling brown eyes, and a generous smile. He liked her looks. And, as he remembered from last night, he liked her voice even more.

She’d had him at “I’ve got pepper spray . . .”

“Thanks again for your help,” she said, fastening her seat belt. “Let’s hope it doesn’t take too long to get my car out. I’m sure you have more important things to do.”

“Not right now. Let’s go.” Conner started the truck and headed down Main Street, toward the intersection with the highway. Travis and Rush, after some good-natured teasing, had given him leave to take all the time he needed. Their offer was more than generous. There’d be plenty of work for all the partners when he got home later this morning.

“My brother talked about you last night,” Megan said. “He’s a big fan of yours. But then, something tells me you have a lot of fans.”

“Not these days,” Conner said. “But it’s always fun to meet kids who remember who I was before I got hurt.”

“What happened? Did a bull hurt you?”

“My glove got caught in the rope on a dismount. The bull dragged me halfway around the arena before anybody could get me loose. Dislocated my shoulder and shattered my hip. It wasn’t the bull’s fault. He was just trying to get rid of me.”

“And, hey, you’re alive,” she said. “You’re here.”

“I am. I’ll never ride again, not even on a horse, but I count myself damned lucky to be in one piece.”

“Luck’s a funny thing. That injury could have saved you from something worse later on. You’ll never know.”

“Actually, it saved me for something better. I was living pretty wild—the parties, the women, the booze, you name it. After that day in the arena, the doctors patched me up and got me on my feet, but the medical bills took everything I had. I’d pretty much hit bottom when my old friend Travis called and invited me to be a partner in his ranch. It’s been the best thing that ever happened to me.”

He’d never told his story to a woman before, Conner realized. Until now, he’d only shared it with his partners. But something about Megan Carson, a woman he barely knew, made him want to come clean and bare his soul.