Christmas at Blue Moon Ranch (14 page)

“Something
happened? Is he okay?”

“Oh, sure, he’s
great—except for being suspended for an entire month of classes, with failing
grades for every assignment and test.”

“Why?”

“Because, Major
Trent, my son decided to win friends and influence people by taking your damn
gun to school with him.”

Daniel just
stared at her for a minute. “My gun? Are you sure?”

“That’s what he
said.”

His gaze turned
inward, and then he left the room without a word. Willa followed him to the
bedroom, where he stood with his hands on his hips, gazing at a moving box in
the far corner. The tape on the top had been pulled up, then pressed into place
again to disguise the fact that the box had been tampered with.

“The weapon was
in here,” he said. “I hadn’t opened the box yet. I’ve ordered a gun safe, but
the shipper appears to be having trouble finding Zapata, Texas.”

She couldn’t
keep from glancing around Daniel’s bedroom. Between the iron headboard and
footboard, his bed was neatly made up, with crisp white sheets and a dark blue
blanket. A gorgeous Turkish carpet covered the floor with a blue and cream and
orange pattern. The only other furnishings were an armchair in a small orange
check, a chest of drawers in dark wood with iron knobs and a lamp table by the
bed…a simple, uncluttered space, like the man, himself.

“I drove the box
across country in my truck,” he continued. “But I did ask Rob to help me move
it into this room.” His chin dropped to his chest. “I suppose we know how
Trouble got loose. Rob came in during the cattle drive to take the gun, and he
let the dog out.”

Willa fought the
urge to apologize. “Probably. But the idea would never have occurred to him if
you hadn’t shown him the weapon and brainwashed him about the glory of being a
soldier.”

Daniel jerked
around to face her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Telling him
stories about war, Daniel. Feeding his desperate need to resurrect his father,
by telling him just what he wanted to hear—tales of your adventures in the
desert, the brotherhood of combat, the excitement of taking out the enemy.”

“I didn’t—”

“You made
yourself and Jamie heroes in Robbie’s eyes, and he couldn’t wait to share with
his friends at school. He took the gun with him to back up what he was saying.”

“This is not my
fault, Willa. I did not show him the weapon. I told him the box contained
uniforms, boots and junk. He must have guessed the truth.”

“You’re saying
he lied to me.”

“I’m afraid he
did.”

“Are you denying
you told him about the war?”

“N-no. He asked,
and I did answer his questions.”

“In the process,
encouraging him to think about his father’s exploits as some kind of…of
knightly crusade.”

“I did no such
thing. And I refuse to apologize for serving my country, or for being damn good
at it.”

“I’m not asking
you to. But you didn’t have to make it look so desirable.” She pressed her
clenched fist against her mouth. “I lost my husband to the military. I will not
give up my sons, as well.”

“That’s a long
way in the future, Willa. By then your boys will have the right to make their
own decisions.”

“I will never
accept their right to take that kind of risk with their lives.”

Daniel watched
as Willa pulled herself together. He wanted to put his arms around her, assure
her that she could handle whatever happened. But that was another kind of risk
she wasn’t prepared to accept.

He followed when
she turned and, without a word, returned to the living room. “What are you
going to do about Robbie?”

She stopped with
her hand on the front doorknob. “Work his butt off, so he’ll understand why
staying in school is a good thing.”

“Do I get a say
in this?” Now she looked at him, with anger and indignation on her face. Daniel
held up a hand. “Two points. First, Robbie stole from me. I’m an injured party,
here.”

Some of the
outrage faded. “I guess that’s true.”

“More important,
though…You say this is my fault. Shouldn’t I have some role in setting Rob
straight again?”

Relief flashed
in her eyes. “What would you do with him?”

Daniel grinned.
“Work his butt off.”

T
HAT AFTERNOON, A
HEAVY KNOCK
on Daniel’s
door announced the arrival of Sheriff Hobbs Sutton. “I have something that
belongs to you,” he said, holding up the gun inside a clear plastic bag. “You
have some paperwork?”

“Come on in,
Sheriff.” He’d anticipated this visit and had all his permits ready to show. “Would
you like a cup of coffee? It’s a little cool out there today.”

“Sounds good.”
Sutton set the gun down on the kitchen table and paged through the notebook in
which Daniel kept his records. “You’ve got quite an arsenal here.”

“Occupational
hazard,” Daniel said, borrowing the phrase from Willa. He gave the sheriff a
mug of coffee. “I have a safe coming and will guarantee that no one but me ever
opens it.”

“All right.
There are plenty of kids with guns in this county already, crossing back and
forth across the border, generally raising hell. I don’t need any more of ’em,
especially not with the kinds of weapons you’ve got here.”

“Will there be
charges against Rob?”

Sutton shook his
head. “I believe his story—he wanted to show off. What thirteen-year-old
doesn’t? Unless…” He cocked an eyebrow at Daniel. “Unless you want to press
charges for theft.”

“Nope. I’m
devising my own brand of hard time.”

“That’s what the
boy needs. That, and a daddy.” Sutton stared into his coffee for a second. “Not
gonna happen any time soon, though.” He blew out a deep breath, then drained
the mug in three gulps. “Gotta go. Seen any sign of those rustlers yet?”

“Not yet. We check
the perimeter daily.” As they stepped outside, a gust of chilly air swept
across the yard. “Maybe they’ve relocated to a warmer climate.”

“Maybe.” Sutton
climbed into his truck. “Good luck with your inmate. Temper your justice with
mercy, as they say.”

B
UT
R
OB’S ATTITUDE
, at 8:00 a.m. on Monday morning,
did nothing to elicit mercy, or even concessions. Willa pulled up next to
Daniel’s barn, waved without smiling as Rob left the truck, then drove off. Looking
ashamed, defiant and a little scared, the boy stood in front of Daniel and Nate
with his hands in his back pockets. He didn’t volunteer an apology, didn’t say
a word.

Daniel simply
stared at him for a long moment. “Fine. I didn’t want to talk this morning,
anyway. You can start by stripping the stalls down to the dirt. I expect a new
load of shavings about ten o’clock, so you should be finished by then.”

Rob’s eyes
widened—it was a big job for two hours. Then he caught his breath and went into
the barn.

The rest of the
week followed the pattern of that first day. No conversation with Rob, no
sharing jokes or stories, no praise for a job well done—just unremitting hard
work. Daniel and Nate between them found some of the dirtiest, sweatiest tasks
on the ranch and gave them to Rob. After the cold snap over the weekend, the
weather turned warm again, and everybody complained about the ninety-degree
temperatures. Everybody except Rob. The boy didn’t say a word. His mother waved
from behind the wheel of her truck but never lowered the window or got out to speak.

Daniel thought
it was probably the worst week of his life since he’d awakened up in a hospital
in
Germany
with his leg shattered and his Army career
finished. The only bright spots were the boxes of treats that kept showing up
on his doorstep. Chocolate chip cookies on Tuesday, brownies on Wednesday and
an apple pie on Thursday, each steadily improving in quality over that first
sad cake. Between them, Daniel, Nate and the hands finished every crumb.

Friday morning,
while Rob swept five or six years’ worth of cobwebs out of the barn, Daniel
drove to Zapata to pick up mail from his post office box. Among the bills and
the advertisements was a thick, cream-colored envelope, the kind invitations
arrived in. Daniel dumped the rest of the mail on the passenger seat and opened
the foil-lined envelope to see who wanted him and where.

The South Texas
Cattlemen’s Association

cordially
invites you to the annual

Halloween
Costume Ball

Saturday,
October 19th, 8 p.m. until…

This year’s
theme is Texas History Night

Come dressed as
your favorite character

from our Great
State’s past!

Twenty-four
hours didn’t give him much time to work up a costume. And the response date was
two weeks ago, although Daniel doubted they’d refuse to take his money if he
offered to buy a ticket. Only one factor would determine whether he stayed home
tomorrow night watching a movie on TV or dressed up and headed out to dance the
night away in a hotel in Laredo.

Would Willa
Mercado be there?

“Who is that
gorgeous man?”

Willa had been
at the ball for an hour, dancing with Hobbs Sutton and Juan Angelo, drinking
her first glass of champagne and catching up with friends, like Bev Drummond,
who’d asked the question.

“What man?”
Willa glanced around the ballroom at a motley collection of Sam Houstons, Davy
Crocketts, Mexican generals and Spanish explorers, oil tycoons and Texas
Rangers. “Where?”

“In the
doorway.” Bev, dressed as a nineteenth century “fallen angel,” nodded her
ostrich-plume headdress toward the entrance, but the crowd on the dance floor
blocked Willa’s view. “He’s the winner of the costume contest, hands down. And
we should auction him off as the most eligible bachelor of the night…assuming
he is. Please, God, let him be single.”

“I don’t…Oh.”
The band finished its first set and the dancers dispersed, leaving her a
straight line of sight to the man in the doorway. “Yes, he’s single.
That’s—that’s my new neighbor. Daniel Trent.”

Bev grabbed her
arm. “You know him? Introduce us, Willa. Please. And then leave quickly.”

Willa laughed,
as she was meant to, but she couldn’t take her eyes off Daniel. He’d chosen a
simple, yet perfect, costume—white, long-sleeved shirt with a red bandanna at
the throat, indigo blue jeans, leather chaps and a well-worn pair of boots. One
hand held a white Stetson hat at his side. He embodied everyone’s hero, the
quintessential Texas cowboy, dressed up for a local barn dance.

Not every cowboy
could boast those deep blue eyes, of course, or the wide shoulders and narrow
waist. And only Daniel offered that sweet, sexy grin over which Bev was
drooling.

“Come on.” The
redhead started across the floor, pulling Willa with her. “I want to meet this
man. I want to dance with him. I want to bear his children.”

Willa hung back,
her stomach twisting in a disagreeable way at the thought of Bev with Daniel
that
way.
But her friend simply jerked her closer, bearing down on her target
with fierce determination.

Daniel’s smile
widened as Willa met his gaze. And then she was standing in front of him, with
Bev simmering beside her.

“Hi,” Willa said
lamely. “It’s, um, good to see you.”

“You, too.” He
gave her a quick wink, then looked at Bev. “I’m Daniel Trent, Willa’s new
neighbor.”

“This is Beverly
Drummond,” Willa said. “She owns Drummond’s Feed Store in Zapata and is
something of a local legend—a prize-winning barrel racer and winner of the Miss
Texas Rodeo title. Bev, this is Daniel.”

Bev extended her
hand and Daniel took it. “I’m not surprised you’re a pageant winner. A business
woman and an athlete, as well? That’s impressive.”

Talkative Bev
was practically speechless. “You’re too good to be true.”

“Oh, no, I’m
not.” He released her hand and looked at Willa again. “I understand Susannah’s
successful at barrel racing.”

“Yes, indeed.
Bev’s been coaching her for several years now.”

“She’s competing
next weekend in the Zapata County Rodeo,” Bev said. “I think Susannah’s got a
chance to beat the britches off every rider there. She and her pony are the
best I’ve seen for quite some time.”

“I might just
have to show up and cheer for her.”

Bev preened, as
if he’d made the decision on her account. And for all Willa knew, he had. “We’ll
look forward to seeing you there.” She put her hand to her ear, as if trying to
hear the tune the band had just started up. “That sounds like a nice, cozy
number. Will you dance with me, Daniel?”

He gave her a
smile that would melt any woman’s defenses. “How about the next slow one? Willa
promised me the first dance after I got here.”