Christmas at Blue Moon Ranch (4 page)

His eyebrows
drew together, his blue eyes questioning, doubtful. “Are you sure?”

“Oh, yes.”

He squeezed his
eyes shut for a second. “Thank God.”

And then he came
back to her, stronger, more demanding than before. The room heated up, or maybe
that was just her body, on fire everywhere Daniel touched her, everywhere he
kissed. And that was
everywhere.
Finally, they lay together, skin to
skin. He moved inside of her…gently, at first, then harder, faster, till the
bed rocked and her body thrashed and her senses exploded into a brilliant
climax. Before she could catch a single breath, Daniel gave a strangled cry.

And then he
relaxed, falling to the side, drawing her with him into the shelter of the
covers and his arms. Safe and sated, Willa plunged mindlessly into sleep.

S
HE WOKE UP WINCING,
WITH A
headache
thudding like a bass drum between her ears. Through one squinted eye she saw
the yellow line of sunlight at the top of the drapes, which meant she must have
slept much later than she’d intended.

In the next
second, Willa realized she was naked under the covers. Then she remembered why.

With a gasp, she
whipped her head around to see that the other side of the bed was empty. She
had a moment to sigh in relief before her stomach revolted and sent her running
for the bathroom.

After a few
unpleasant minutes, she wiped her face with a cold washcloth. Unable to meet
her own eyes in the mirror, she sat on the end of the bed she…they…hadn’t slept
in, her fists clenched in her lap, and faced the shameful facts.

Last night,
she’d abandoned the last ounce of good sense she possessed to have sex with a
man she didn’t know, a man who hadn’t even stayed long enough to say “Good
morning.” After fourteen years of marriage and three kids, she should know
better than to take this kind of risk.

Every woman had
the right to be stupid once in her life, especially as a teenager. Giving in to
a boy’s persuasion—“If you loved me you’d do it”—was understandable when you
were only sixteen.

But what excuse
did she have at thirty-two? How could she have allowed her principles to be
overturned by a sexy grin and a pair of sweet blue eyes?

Well, no more.
As she jerked on her clothes, Willa swore to herself that she wouldn’t let
Daniel Trent get to her. She would keep her distance, make him keep his. With
any luck, he’d fail miserably in his attempt at ranching and be gone well
before Christmas. All she had to do was wait him out…

…and never again
give herself a chance to make a mistake like the one last night.

W
HEN SHE FINALLY
DREDGED UP
the courage
to leave her room, she found Daniel Trent leaning against the wall in the hotel
lobby, scanning a newspaper.

“Good morning.”
Smiling, he straightened and fell into step beside her. “Can you join me for
breakfast?”

“No. Thanks.”
She glanced at the people moving around them as if looking for someone,
avoiding his knowing blue eyes. “I need to get on the road. I can’t afford to
miss a whole day’s work.”

“Okay.” He
folded the paper under his arm. “I thought I’d follow you out to the ranch,
look around a bit. My stuff won’t be arriving until the end of the week, but
I’d like to see the setup, get a feel for what kind of supplies I’ll be
needing.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him shrug. “I’ve lived in army
housing most of the time, so I don’t have much furniture. Outfitting a house is
a new experience.”

Panic erupted in
her chest. Without answering, Willa walked quickly outside, aware that Daniel
was following as fast as he could. She didn’t slow down for him.

Somehow, though,
he was right behind her when she opened her truck door. He put a hand on her
arm as she started to climb in.

“Willa? What’s
going on?”

She threw her
purse into the passenger seat and jerked around to face him. “What’s going on
is that I’ve made two horrible mistakes in the past twenty-four hours. I’m
furious with myself and—”

“With me,” he
said, interrupting.

“Yes.” She shook
off his touch. “I should never have put that land up for sale, and I shouldn’t
have let you talk me into this crazy arrangement we’ve got set up now. All that
was bad enough.” Taking a deep breath, she tried to steady her voice. “But to
know that I let myself get drunk enough to…to—” The words stayed stuck in her
throat. How could she have been so careless, so disrespectful of herself?

Daniel didn’t
have the same scruples. “Sleep with me?”

Willa clenched
her hands into fists. “Stop that! I don’t want you reading my mind and
finishing my thoughts.”

Daniel raised
his hand and stepped backward, out of her reach. “Yes, ma’am.” His gaze had
gone cold, and his mouth was a hard, straight line. “I will be following you as
you drive home, however, because I have a contract that allows me access to the
thousand acres of land I’m calling the New Moon Ranch. You should expect to see
me from time to time, since the road to my place goes by the main house of the
Blue Moon. I’ll try not to inconvenience you as I get settled.”

He pivoted on
his good leg and moved away with that awkward limp, climbed into his
rain-spattered truck and let the engine idle, waiting for Willa to lead the
way.

Swearing under
her breath, she started her own vehicle and left the parking lot. All through
the hour-long drive home, she was aware of him behind her, his face grim
through the windshield. He wore mirrored sunglasses, but she could imagine the
blue gaze behind them. She’d read the hurt there before anger had replaced it.

Last night,
she’d urged him to stay and make love with her, accepting him despite his
terrible scars. This morning, she’d rejected every moment they’d spent
together. That made
three
terrible mistakes she had committed in the
past twenty-four hours. Willa couldn’t believe how badly she’d behaved. No
doubt about it, Daniel Trent brought out the worst in her. Yet another reason
to avoid him.

With every mile
that passed, the screw of nerves inside her twisted tighter. By the time she
reached the familiar gateway—an iron arch spelling out
El Rancho Luna Azul,
with a crescent moon on each end—Willa was a wreck. Abruptly, she steered her
truck to the side of the road just inside the entrance and cut the engine. Daniel
stopped behind her, but she reached his window before he could open his door,
so he rolled down the glass.

“Something else
wrong?” he asked in a cold voice.

“Stay away from
me,” she told him. “If you need help, I’ll send one of my workmen to do what he
can. But leave me alone.”

Daniel took off
his sunglasses, and she was surprised to see the laughter in his eyes. “You’re
running scared, aren’t you, Willa? Afraid of what you felt last night?”

Her cheeks
heated up at the memory. “I don’t sleep around.”

“I didn’t think
you did. And I don’t intend to pressure you for something you won’t give
freely.” He slipped the shades back onto his face. “But I do intend to make the
New Moon Ranch my home. You’d better figure out how to tolerate my presence.”

The truck engine
roared, and Daniel gave her a grin. “’Cause come Christmas Day, I’ll be a
permanent fixture in your life. And it’s gonna be a long fifty years if we
can’t even say good morning without getting into an argument!”

Then, without
warning, he backed into a cloud of dust, turned sharply and headed up the road,
leaving Willa behind.

A mile inside
the Blue Moon gate, Daniel came over a rise and saw the Mercado ranch house
sitting off to his right. Easing off the gas and unclenching his jaw, he slowed
down for a good look at Willa’s home.

He’d gleaned a
little of the ranch history from the attorney and the Internet, enough to know
that Rafael Mercado from Mexico had taken possession of the land in the 1840s,
back when Indian attacks were an ever-present threat. The tall, defensive wall
Rafael had first built around the house had been lowered in the twentieth
century to reveal the courtyard, filled with mature live oak trees, which
surrounded the villa inside. A series of white-columned arches created a wide
veranda along the two-story front wing of the house. Two side wings stretched
back at right angles to form a U-shape with another courtyard in the center. Green
shutters framed the windows, a sharp contrast to the creamy white stucco walls.

Daniel squeezed
a whistle through his teeth. Willa had a right to be protective—this was quite
a showplace. He could imagine how much maintenance work would be involved in
caring for such a property. Around the house stretched ten thousand acres of
the Wild Horse Desert, where she bred and raised longhorn cattle. No doubt
about it, the woman carried a heavy burden. And since her husband had died,
she’d carried it alone.

At the sound of
her truck rumbling up behind him, he squeezed the accelerator and pulled away
fast enough to spray gravel as he fishtailed on his way. The last thing he
needed was another “get lost” lecture. She’d made her point and it was a sharp
one, especially after last night’s pleasure.

Following the
winding, hilly road farther into the Blue Moon, he saw the barns, corrals and
utility buildings that formed the heart of the ranching operation. Miles of
wire fencing defined the pastures, which alternated between cultivated range
land and the scrubby shrubs and natural grasses native to south Texas. The wild
landscape held a beauty all its own, however, especially on the morning after
rainstorms had cleared the dust from the air. Daniel appreciated the wide blue
Texas sky, the varied shapes of the trees and cacti and bushes, the freshness of
the wind.

There was no
sign to tell him when he crossed onto his own property, just a line on the map
the attorney had provided. The terrain didn’t change. There were fences, and
cattle…although he was sure Willa would have those rounded up and removed soon
enough. She wouldn’t want to leave any of her property under his control.

As he came over
the top of yet another hill, he realized he’d reached his destination—the
foreman’s cottage he’d be living in. Sited on a bare stretch of ground with
only a few prickly shrubs to soften the sandy dirt, the house lacked any
evidence of architectural imagination. An uncovered stoop anchored the
cement-block structure, its plain front door painted a dull gray like the rest
of the building. Daniel pulled into the shade of the carport attached to the
side of the house and sighed as he switched off the engine. For the first time
since beginning this crazy venture, he felt a little daunted.

Inside, the
rooms were clean, bare and equally uninspiring. Willa hadn’t gone to any
lengths to make him feel welcome.

Outside once
again, he drove toward the barn associated with his property, visible about a
quarter of a mile away from the house. The weathered, metal-sided building,
surrounded by dry, dusty corrals, did little to bolster his confidence that he
could develop a functional ranching business in this place. He was stuck out
here in the desert with scant practical knowledge, few ranching skills and no
support.

Maybe Willa
would win, after all.

Within the barn,
years—decades, maybe—of discarded equipment loomed in the corners and cluttered
the aisle between stalls, which appeared to have not been cleaned for about the
same amount of time. What would he do with all this space once he got it
cleared out? His first task, he guessed, would be to hire a foreman. Somebody
with in-depth experience, somebody who knew what the hell was supposed to
happen next.

What actually
happened next was that somewhere, in a far corner of the cavernous building,
someone sneezed.

“Hello?” Daniel
welcomed the prospect of a trespasser to take his mind off the mess he’d gotten
himself into. “Who’s there?”

When no one
answered, he walked down the aisle, peering into the stalls as he went. “Come
on…I heard you. Do I have to say gesundheit before you make an appearance? Consider
it said.”

He stopped by a
narrow wooden ladder leading to the loft above the main floor and waited,
without result. Then, a minute later, came another sneeze. And another. And yet
a fourth.

“Bless you.”
Daniel leaned his shoulder against a stall door to take the weight off his
aching leg. “I’m not leaving, so you can stay hidden and sneeze your brains out
or join me in the fresh air.”

A revealing
scuffle came from overhead. He looked up and found a face looking down at him
over the edge of the loft.

“You can’t
really sneeze your brains out.” Under a pint-sized Resistol cowboy hat, the boy
was about ten, with dark eyes, nut-brown skin and shiny black hair.

“Are you sure?”
Daniel couldn’t mistake the kid’s resemblance to Willa. This must be the
youngest boy.
Toby, right?

“Yeah. It just
feels that way.” The face disappeared, to be replaced by a pair of boots
reaching for the top rung of the ladder. In the next second, the kid landed
with a thud on the barn floor. He turned around to confront Daniel, his hands
propped on his hips and his eyebrows drawn together. In his hat, his well-worn
blue-checked shirt and his weathered jeans, he looked like a miniature cowpoke.
“You must be the new guy.”