My Kind of Christmas (The Christmas Tree Ranch #1)(45)

Knowing better than to speak, Maggie gazed at Travis in dismay. Conner and Rush sat at the table, looking stunned. Surely Travis had told them about his past. But even if they’d known, the confrontation with his father would have been shocking to watch.

It was Conner who spoke. “Man, that was brutal.”

Travis exhaled slowly, as if trying to bring himself under control. “We’d better get back to work,” he said. “Thanks for dinner, Maggie. If you don’t mind leaving it, we’ll have that pie later.”

Rush and Conner rose and, after murmuring their thanks to Maggie, followed him outside, leaving her alone. She’d been given her walking papers by Travis. It was time to clean up and leave.

She gripped the chair, a sick, sour ball of anxiety forming in her stomach. It wasn’t being dismissed and left alone that bothered her—that had been pretty much expected. It was that she’d just seen a new side of the man she was falling in love with—a side that was hard, bitter, and unforgiving.

Still shaken, she recalled every word of the exchange she’d heard. Hank had made the only possible choice in sending his son away. But years later, when he was doing better and Travis was in prison, he’d tried to make amends. He would have helped Travis with the Christmas tree project and probably taught him a lot about the business. But Travis would have none of it.

Hank had been in the right all along. It was Travis who’d been wrong. Today’s words to his father had been cruel, aimed to wound where they’d hurt the most.

How could she let herself love such a man?

But deep down, she knew the answer to that question. Travis was lashing out because he was in pain. And it wasn’t in her power to take that pain away. Only forgiveness could do that.

Wiping away a tear, she began storing the leftovers, rinsing the dishes, and loading them in the dishwasher. From outside, she could hear the men unloading the trees, followed by the sound of the ATV driving away with the trailer for more. Then the yard was silent.

She wiped off the table and countertop and started the dishwasher. Maybe today had been a mistake. Maybe she should have stayed clear of Travis until the holiday season was over. He had so many worries on his mind, and her presence was just one more distraction.

Something soft and damp nudged her hand. Bucket was standing close to her legs, looking up with heart-melting caramel eyes. She gave him a smile. “You old beggar! At least somebody’s in a good mood today.”

Opening the fridge, she pulled a sliver of turkey meat from the covered platter. Bucket wolfed it down in a single gulp and begged for more, eyes bright, tail wagging.

“Here you go, just one more.” She fed him another piece. Rush had warned her that too much turkey wasn’t good for dogs. But after years of living on Abner’s farm, eating whatever he came across, Bucket probably had a cast-iron stomach.

“That’s enough. Go bother somebody else.” She closed the fridge and shooed the dog out the back door. She was just gathering up her things to leave when her phone rang. The caller was Francine. She sounded worried.

“Maggie, have you seen Hank? He was supposed to be here for dinner at three. He didn’t show up, and he isn’t answering his cell phone. This isn’t like him. I’m afraid something might’ve happened.”

Maggie hesitated, wondering how much she should tell Francine. But the secret was out now, and her worried friend deserved to know everything.

“I’m at Travis’s ranch now,” she said. “Hank was here about half an hour ago. He’d found out that Travis and his friends are going to sell Christmas trees. They had an argument, and Hank left.”

There was a gasp on the other end of the call. “Christmas trees? And you knew all this? Why didn’t you tell me, Maggie?”

“They wanted to keep it a secret till they opened. I only found out by accident. I’m sorry, Francine. I wasn’t free to tell anybody, not even you.”

Francine sighed. “Well, I guess that’s water under the bridge. The important thing now is to find Hank and make sure he’s all right.”

“Have you checked the hardware store?”

“No, I’m still at my daughter’s.”

“Then let’s meet at the store,” Maggie said. “I’m on my way. I’ll see you there.”

Fifteen minutes later, Maggie swung her car into a parking spot in front of Hank’s Hardware. Francine’s big, red Buick was already there. So was Hank’s truck. Both vehicles were empty. The two must have found each other and gone inside.

It would be easy enough to take the coward’s way out and leave them to resolve this mess on their own. But Maggie knew she owed them both an explanation. If she didn’t make this right, any misunderstandings would only fester and grow.

As she climbed out of her car, she saw Francine and Hank in the Christmas tree lot. They looked up as she came through the gate. Neither of them looked happy.

She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry for this. If there’s anything I can do—”

“I thought you were my friend, Maggie.” Hank faced her, a scowl on his usually good-natured face. “You know that Christmas tree sales make the difference between net profit and loss for my business. But you let these upstarts cut into my customer base without so much as a word to me. You were even there, having dinner, when I went to give them a piece of my mind. There are ugly words for what you are. One of them is traitor.”