My Kind of Christmas (The Christmas Tree Ranch #1)(13)

“But that’s terrible! What are we going to do for a Santa Claus?”

“I’m still looking for a volunteer. If you have any suggestions, let me know.” Maggie studied the woman who was closer to Hank than any other person. Decades ago they’d almost married, before a dashing rodeo rider had swept Francine away, and Hank had married someone else. In recent years, they’d picked up the relationship again. Hank had supported Francine’s recovery from alcoholism, and the two spent as much time together as possible.

If anybody could help her talk Hank into playing Santa, it would be Francine.

Francine had turned to Hank. “I just stopped by to make sure you were coming to dinner tonight, honey,” she purred. “I’ve got the makings for chicken and dumplings, your favorite.”

Hank grinned. “I’ll be there with bells on.”

With bells on. Maggie could only hope his words were prophetic.

“Say, Francine,” she said, catching the woman’s attention. “Do you have time to go to lunch with me? My treat. I’ve got to make some decisions about the Christmas celebration, and I could use your input.”

“Why sure, honey,” Francine said, “though I don’t know how much help I’ll be.”

“Buckaroo’s, then, in twenty minutes. I need to check in with the office first. I’ll meet you there.”

*

Francine was waiting when Maggie walked into Buckaroo’s. She was saving the corner booth, where it was quieter and easier to talk. They ordered tuna melts and Diet Cokes, sipping their drinks while they waited for their sandwiches.

Francine turned to face Maggie in the booth. “Thanks for the treat, honey,” she said. “But something tells me you’ve got more in mind than getting my take on the Christmas celebration.”

“That depends.” Maggie swirled the ice in her Coke. “I’m still looking for a Santa Claus, and I’ve found someone who’d be perfect. But I don’t know if he’d be willing.”

“It’s Hank, right?”

Maggie nodded. “What do you think?”

“I think he’d look awesome with a red suit and a beard. But I don’t know what to tell you, Maggie. Hank has always been self-conscious about his leg. You know, it’s the reason he lost his family.”

“But he’d be sitting in the sleigh the whole time. And a lot of the people wouldn’t even know it was him—especially the kids. For them, he’d be the real Santa.”

Francine looked thoughtful. “I know Hank loves kids. He’s always been sorry that he doesn’t have any little grandkids of his own. But even that might not be enough. He’s going to need some powerful persuading.”

“And you’re the most persuasive person I know, Francine.” Maggie grinned. “But there’s another thing. Abner left his sleigh and his team with his neighbor—Hank’s son, Travis. From what I understand, Travis and Hank aren’t even on speaking terms.”

“Now that could be a problem,” Francine agreed.

“Have you met Travis?” Maggie asked.

“No, but I’ve seen him in Shop Mart. Ooh la la! What a man!” Francine batted her long, false eyelashes. “If I were twenty years younger . . . My goodness, girl, you’re blushing!”

“Ignore it. It’s a redhead thing.” Maggie welcomed the arrival of their tuna melts, overflowing with grilled cheese. She took a few bites, giving her face time to cool. “Has Hank ever told you what happened between him and his son?”

“Not really. I know Hank started drinking after he lost his leg. It got so bad that his wife left him, took their little boy away, and remarried. Hank didn’t have any contact with his son for years. That’s all I know.”

“But surely that wouldn’t have caused so much bitterness between them,” Maggie said. “Something else must’ve happened—something bad enough to tear them apart.”

Francine wiped a dab of cheese off her chin. “Maybe so, honey. But Hank’s never said a word about it, not even to me.”

“Travis would be glad to have somebody else take the animals and the sleigh. He didn’t want them in the first place, but Abner was afraid the horses and dog would be put down when he left them.”

“It sounds like Travis has a good heart.” Francine gave her a teasing wink. “And it sounds like you’ve gotten to know him pretty well.”

“Not that well. Believe me, he’s not all that easy to know.” Maggie felt the hated blush creep into her cheeks again. It was humiliating. Thirty-two-year-old mayors didn’t blush.

Francine, who never missed a thing, finished her sandwich and leaned back in the booth. “This is how I see it, honey. We’ve both got guys we like, and we both want the same things for them. We want the two of them to settle the past and be family again.”

“And to team up for the parade,” Maggie added. “As long as they’re not speaking to each other, that isn’t going to happen.”

“Right,” Francine said. “I don’t know how we’re going to manage it. I just know that we’ll have a better chance if we work together. What do you say we think about it for a day or two and then check in, say, before the weekend?”

“If this is going to happen, it’s got to happen fast,” Maggie said. “Otherwise, I’ll be wearing that Santa suit myself.”