A Texan Returns

When had he become so concerned about what others thought of him? And was he cheap? Were people expecting better decorations? The community center director and city officials had specifically said he had to use the reindeer, trees and boxes they already had.

How could something so simple become so complicated? He’d been back in his hometown for two days and his thinking had already been challenged by a little old lady. A cranky little old lady, at that.

He did manage to get through the checkout line without seeing Mrs. Casale or anyone else who had an opinion of his visit home or advice on behaving himself. The short drive to his parents’ place—it wasn’t really a ranch anymore, since they didn’t raise horses or cattle—didn’t take long. He passed a few of the “nodding donkey” oil pumps that dotted the landscape. His dad loved it when oil went over ninety dollars a barrel.

The sun was setting as he pulled to a stop in the parking area behind his parents’ garage, and he sat for a moment admiring the oranges, pinks and purples of the sky over the low western hills. Texas did have some spectacular sunsets, but nothing rivaled the view from his wraparound deck at home when the sun sank into the Pacific. Sometimes he sat there in a teak deck chair, watching the sunset with his only housemate, Tiger, a ragged-ear yellow tabby who used to be a tomcat. The cat was as rough and ugly as the house was sleek and beautiful, but for some reason he hung around. Probably because Wyatt was the only person stupid enough to feed and care for him in a posh hilltop community that valued pedigree over the ability to catch mice.

Wyatt would be back in Carmel soon. Whatever decorations Mrs. Nakimoto put up were fine with him. He didn’t entertain at home. Usually, he took a few friends—or perhaps a special lady friend—on a vacation at Christmas.

Putting up the “yard art,” as Mrs. Hammer called it, at the community center in Brody’s Crossing had made him think of all the holiday functions he’d attended—and then gotten into trouble over messing with the joy of others as they pursued their own Christmas traditions. The holidays weren’t so much fun anymore, even though his options now were practically limitless and his mischief more expensive and polished.

“Hell, you’re not a kid,” he murmured to himself. It didn’t matter how the older generation treated him. But what did he expect? To return to the days when he’d been bored, rebellious and overindulged? No way. He was an adult. He did what adults did. Well, adults with millions of dollars of discretionary income, he thought as he grabbed the milk and walked toward the home in which he’d grown up. The house had an addition, a new roof to accommodate the raised ceilings his mother had always wanted and a new flagstone entry and circular drive out front.

“Hey, Mom,” he said, closing the back door behind him. He sat the plastic jug on the counter and lowered his cheek for a perfunctory and somewhat awkward dry peck. She was trying to be a good mother, he knew. About fifteen years too late, but maybe better late than never. At least she only smelled of expensive perfume now, not that vodka had much of an odor.

“Thank you for bringing milk. It’s such a hassle to go to town for one item.”

Maybe, but what else did she have to do in a typical day? “Where’s Dad?”

“Watching one of those old television shows in the family room, probably.”

“Do you need any help?” He hoped not. He hated helping his mother in the kitchen. He never knew where anything was, especially after the remodeling, and he set the table wrong every time.

“No, thank you. I’ll let you know when dinner is ready. Lupe fixed us a roasted chicken and vegetables earlier, before she left for the day.”

Oh, good. At least his mother wasn’t trying to cook again. She had an uncanny ability to ruin any type of meat and burn potatoes until the entire house reeked. Lupe had been their housekeeper for several years now, and his mother actually seemed to like her. He remembered a time when his mother had found fault with everyone and everything. Except him. He’d always been her golden boy, even when he didn’t deserve her support.

Wyatt sat next to his dad in a matching recliner and watched a rerun of a rerun of an ancient Western horse opera. His dad turned down the volume so it was barely audible, just enough to be irritating as he talked about the possibility of shrinking crop subsidies and lower oil prices now that the general election was history. Wyatt wished he had a beer as he waited to be called to dinner, but there were no beers in the fridge. Not any more. He felt the urge to do something outrageous, just to relieve the tension. That’s how he’d gotten in so much trouble when he was a kid. Hell, he still got into trouble sometimes when he was bored. Maybe he hadn’t grown up much at all, despite fifteen years and unbelievable success.

Then he remembered Cassie’s request, and asked, “Do you have any horses here?”

“Not these days. They’re too much trouble.”

“My assistant wants to ride. I’ll call the Brodys to see if they have any gentle mounts. I don’t want her thrown or spooked. She’s only ridden once, as a child.”

“Is she your girlfriend?”

“No, Dad. She’s my assistant. Purely professional.” His dad had a hard time accepting the idea of women in career positions. He assumed women were only looking for boyfriends or husbands.

“Dinner’s ready,” his mother finally announced, and Wyatt practically launched himself from the recliner.

They ate in polite silence interspersed with polite conversation. He even used his best table manners.

“I’m planning a welcome-home dinner party for you on Thursday night,” his mother announced just before dessert. “I was sure you didn’t have anything planned.”

“Mom, you shouldn’t have. That’s too much trouble. I doubt anyone will want to come to a party on a weeknight.” Him, especially.

“No, I checked, and everyone is delighted. And we can’t have it on the weekend. Almost everyone will be busy Friday night with last-minute preparations for the parade on Saturday afternoon.”

“How many people are coming to this party?”

“I believe we have nineteen acceptances and two maybes, so it’s just a small get-together. Just a buffet dinner and dessert to welcome you home.”

“Okay,” he said, trying not to sound petulant as he stacked dishes to carry into the kitchen. “Mostly your friends, right?”

“Actually, I’ve invited some of your friends, also. James Brody and his wife, Sandy. She’s new to town. Cal Crawford and his wife, Christie, who owns the motel as you probably know. Cal received a Purple Heart for his service in Afghanistan. He’s a little older than you, but you remember him from high school, right?”

“Yes.” Wyatt paused at the doorway to the kitchen. “Anyone else?”

“Why, yes. I’ve asked our mayor, of course. Toni Casale.” His mother raised her penciled brows as she lifted the cover from a crystal cake plate. “She’s still single, you know.”

Wyatt forced a completely neutral expression. “You don’t say.” He turned and walked into the kitchen. Having a bunch of his parents’ friends was pretty bad; having some of his own friends would make the night more bearable. Having Toni in his boyhood home…That was something else entirely.

He wondered if his mother had ever found out what he and Toni had done in his old bedroom. In the family room. In the barn. In his truck.

On that highly polished cherry table in the dining room.

As he placed dishes in the sink, he wondered if Toni would remember. If she’d be able to sit there and nibble on finger food at the table where he’d nibbled on her. The thought brought a smile to his face.

“You’re grinning,” his mother said as she entered the kitchen. She opened the refrigerator and took out a can of whipped cream.

“Oh, yeah,” he said, other fond memories surfacing before he told himself to behave. “I’m just looking forward to your party.”

“Your party,” his mother corrected.

“One can only hope,” he replied, eyeing the whipped cream and thinking of Thursday night.

Chapter Three

On Wednesday Toni began demolition on the old hotel. She met her crew, her brother and a glowing Christie Crawford at eight o’clock in the morning. Christie brought French vanilla coffee for everyone; Toni brought safety goggles and sledgehammers.

“Always wear your goggles, and if you’re tearing out Sheetrock, ceiling tiles or anything with insulation, you need a mask,” she told her two partners.

“Is there asbestos?” Leo asked.

“Thankfully, no. I got the environmental results back Monday.” Right before Wyatt McCall had breezed back into town. “We’re free to begin.”

She wouldn’t have scheduled everyone to be here if it wasn’t safe, but Leo was new to the remodeling side of the business and he didn’t know that. After he bought the hardware store, he’d become more familiar with fixtures, nuts and bolts, nails, screws and nice, clean tools.

“We’re saving these front doors. I’ve marked everything else that is to be saved with orange tape. Don’t damage anything that’s marked. Other than that, you’re free to tear out the cabinets and fixtures in the kitchen, the half wall, the 1970s paneling and those incredibly ugly aluminum wall sconces.”

“Sounds great!” Christie said, hefting her sledgehammer. The polished, pregnant, blond former socialite marched with determination toward a half-wall addition covered in faux walnut. “May I take out the whole thing?”

“You’re welcome to try,” Toni said.

Leo laughed and headed for the kitchen.

Toni smiled at their enthusiasm and motioned for her professional crew to come in and begin the real work. Outside, a thirty-cubic-yard roll-off container waited for all the material that couldn’t be reused or recycled. Her crew would sort wood, metal and drywall later, after the amateurs got tired of demo. Toni predicted it wouldn’t take long.

Sure enough, ten minutes later Christie called it quits. A few minutes after she left, Leo said he really needed to get to the hardware store. He was perspiring and breathing hard. Toni wasn’t sure what type of damage he’d done in the kitchen, but hopefully nothing too costly. She’d heard a lot of swings of his hammer, a little bit of swearing and repeated crashes.

As Leo removed his safety goggles and used a towel to clean off the dust, a person Toni had never expected here walked through the door. She moved behind the scaffolding her crew had just assembled and watched Wyatt look around, then step carefully through the dusty debris. He looked too good in his faded jeans, work boots, waffle-knit Henley and blue, plaid flannel shirt. No one would guess he was a billionaire high-tech entrepreneur. Correction—a retired billionaire. As if one could retire from being too rich.

“Hey, Leo,” Wyatt said as he folded his sunglasses and placed them in the placket of his partially unbuttoned Henley. Toni had always found those shirts sexy, especially on a man with a nice chest and flat abs. Unfortunately, that included Wyatt, now more than ever since he’d grown up. “What’s up?”

“First day of demo. Toni let us—Christie and me, that is—start the tear-out.”

“Free labor, hmm?”

Toni felt a rush of heat. So now he was calling her cheap? “Expensive labor, if they mess up,” she said, stepping out from behind the scaffolding.

“Oh, look who’s here,” Wyatt said with a devious smile.

Toni glared at him. He’d known she was there all the time. He’d made that comment to bait her. And, yes, she’d taken the hook like a hungry trout. She wanted to kick herself, but she’d rather kick her former boyfriend for showing up on her job site and aggravating her on what was otherwise a very happy day.

She’d looked forward to getting the old eyesore of a hotel renovated for years, and now she was the person making the changes. She’d pulled together the team and shown Christie the possibilities that could happen with a little money and a lot of work. Leo had leaped at the opportunity to get into the renovation side of the business.

And then Wild Wyatt McCall had to show up.

“So, you’re remodeling the old hotel. That’s good.”

“I’m glad you approve. Now, we should get back to work.”

“Don’t pay any attention to me. I’m just curious about what you’re doing.”

“We’re doing our job, which is more than I can say for you at the moment.” Toni stalked closer to where Wyatt stood by Leo and glared at her former boyfriend. “Why aren’t you at the community center?”

“Well,” he said, leaning his butt against the heavy old check-in desk that Toni was salvaging, “I was on my way over there, but it was kind of cold so I went to the café instead. While I was having my coffee and a cinnamon roll, I saw James Brody. He told me about the big news. A lot of people are looking forward to the old hotel getting remodeled.”

“Most people don’t like to see empty buildings around town, and especially something with this much potential,” Leo said. “I’m glad we could buy it and make something useful.”

“I was going to ask about that,” Wyatt said. He turned to Toni. “What are you doing with the old place?”

“Condos, retail and restaurant space,” Leo answered.

Toni glared at her little brother for answering for her. “And we really need to get to work,” she said. Again, in case Leo or her crew had forgotten why they were here.

“Don’t mind me. I’d just like to look around. I’ve never seen the inside of the old hotel. The passenger railroad stopped running before I can remember.”

“You’re not looking around without proper safety equipment. If you want a tour, we have to fit you with a safety helmet and goggles. I might even make you wear a mask. Who knows what you’ll find in the dust and debris? There might even be the hantavirus from years of mice infestation.”

Wyatt shuddered. “That’s just cruel.”

Toni smiled, which she suspected looked a bit evil at this point. Wyatt hated mice. He’d play with snakes and let tarantulas crawl up his arm, but show him a little mouse and he’d freak like a baby.

“Okay, I can take a hint. I’ll leave. I don’t want to keep you from your work.”

“I’m glad you stopped by,” Leo said with his friendly grin.

“I’m sure your sister is glad I’m leaving,” Wyatt said.

“Hello? I’m right here.”

“So you are. And I’m outta here.” Wyatt saluted them with his thermal coffee cup and turned on his heel.

“Come back when my sister isn’t here and I’ll give you a tour,” Leo offered.

Wyatt paused at the tall double doors. “Now, that wouldn’t be as much fun, would it?” he asked with a smile.

Toni punched her brother in the arm as soon as Wyatt sauntered away.

“Ouch!”

“Stop being nice to him. He needs to stay focused on his task, get finished and get out of town.”

“Why? He’s got a right to visit Brody’s Crossing.”

“He can visit his parents. He doesn’t need to visit our job site.” As a matter of fact, he didn’t need to show up anywhere that Toni might be, as far as she was concerned. He could simply have his assistant or his PR person contact the mayor’s office when the community center was finished.

The sooner, the better. The Christmas parade was this Saturday, followed by the chili dinner, and then the events started happening really fast. The holiday would be over before they knew it. Toni didn’t want the whole season ruined by Wyatt’s jabs and innuendos.

“I’m getting the crew in here to finish the demo. The faster we get this started, the faster we’ll be finished and on our way to a nice profit.”

“I’m all for that,” Leo said. “I’ll get out of your way.”

Toni hoped that everyone would stay out of her way. Especially annoying eligible bachelors who thought they were just too funny.

“Just a few more days,” she told herself as Leo left for the hardware store and the crew got started undoing years of bad decorating and poor maintenance.

And then she remembered that she had to attend the McCalls’ dinner party tomorrow night. And see Wild Wyatt again. And if she knew his mother, who was a stickler for boy-girl-boy-girl protocol, she’d probably have to sit next to Wyatt at their dining table.

She wasn’t ready for social engagements with him. There was no telling what he would do or say, and heaven help her, she seemed to have little restraint when it came to her responses.

But, she had one and a half days to get herself ready. Mentally and physically. She’d need every minute.

WYATT LOOKED AT HIS PITIFUL display of lighted figures in disgust. He’d driven by last night, after dinner at his parents’ house, to see the reindeer, Christmas trees and gifts at night. They looked terrible. He hadn’t arranged them well, and they looked lost in the big yard surrounding the community center. There were lots of trees on the property, and they distorted rather than enhanced the scene of reindeer in the forest.

Not that lighted white reindeer in any way looked natural. Not to mention the spiral lighted artificial Christmas trees. Especially not now, in the light of day, in the clarity of the afternoon.

Darn it, Myra Hammer was right.

Wyatt sighed. He’d hoped his sentence would produce something worthwhile for the citizens of Brody’s Crossing, but they couldn’t possibly like this mess. He wasn’t artistic. His creativity came out in user-based communications, with a strong emphasis on the “wow” factor. He could visualize new applications for existing technology, but bobbing reindeer had him totally baffled.

“I need help. I need a professional,” he said to Cassie.

“What do you mean? They’re all lighted.”

“I don’t mean an electrician. I mean a designer. A person who specializes in holiday displays, like maybe at malls or public facilities.”

“I’ll call someone. Do you have any ideas for local contacts?”

“No.” He hadn’t lived here in fifteen years, and even when he did live here, he hadn’t been concerned with the design of Christmas displays. Unless, of course, there was a way to mess them up. Now, he had people who did this sort of thing at his corporate headquarters.

“Call my mother, and if she can’t help call the mayor. And if that doesn’t work, call a display company in Dallas or Fort Worth and ask them to get out here and put something up that will have a real wow factor.”

“Any idea on budget?”

“I don’t care. Whatever it takes. I want people to see this display and feel as if they’re looking at Macy’s windows in New York City. Or one of those gaudy light shows at private homes that I’ve seen on television.”

“Major store windows are started a year in advance, and those people who put up lights all over their homes begin in October at the latest.” Cassie smiled crookedly and shrugged. “I watch a lot of decorating shows on TV.”

“All I know is that with enough people and money, we can get this done by Saturday.”

“It’s already Wednesday!”

“Okay, get on the phone.” He paused a moment, then said, “On second thought, you call my mother and the display companies in Dallas or Fort Worth. I’ll go see the mayor.”

“Um, I can call her, too.”

“I know, but—” He stopped and narrowed his eyes at Cassie. “Why don’t you want me seeing the mayor?”

Cassie looked down at her PDA. “Oh, she just doesn’t seem to like you much, and I thought perhaps she’d be more helpful if I called her.”

Wyatt scoffed. “She just thinks she doesn’t like me.”

Cassie frowned. “What’s the difference? Either way, she might not cooperate.”

“She’ll cooperate. You forget the McCall charm factor.”

“I’m not sure it’s working on her.”

“Oh, it’s working.” She wouldn’t be so testy around him if it wasn’t working. The high points of his trip so far had all involved getting Toni riled up. And he didn’t even feel guilty. She wouldn’t admit it, but she was enjoying herself. She was actually living. According to everyone he’d asked—discreetly, of course—Toni didn’t have much of a personal life. She wasn’t dating. She devoted all her time and energy to her business and her public responsibilities. And she did a damn fine job of both.

Still, she needed a personal life. At least for a little while. He’d be gone soon and she could go back to being Miss Conscientious. A little verbal sparring with a bad-boy former boyfriend wasn’t going to ruin her work ethic.

“Well, you’re the boss,” Cassie finally said.

“Exactly,” Wyatt said with a grin, looking at the reindeer. Your days are numbered, he told them silently, and headed for his Hummer.

“WE CAN’T POSSIBLY GET RID of the reindeer,” Toni told Wyatt as he sat in her office. She was still dusty and tired from this morning’s tear-out at the hotel, which her crew was continuing to work on. She’d taken out some of her aggression and frustration on a rickety banister leading to the second floor, but the physical labor hadn’t helped much. Once again faced with Wyatt McCall, she wanted him out of her life.

Not so much wanted as needed, she corrected herself. He brought too much…turmoil. Yes, that was the word for Wyatt. Tumultuous. Wild and unpredictable.

She liked predictable. She needed order. “Why would you want to get rid of perfectly good Christmas decorations?”

“Why? Because they’re not enough. They’re not very convincing, as far as Christmas displays go. Wouldn’t you rather have something really spectacular?”

“It doesn’t matter what you or I want. Those decorations were a gift from the local Scout troops. They got together, raised money and presented the reindeer and trees to the city. If we toss them out, it will be a personal affront to every Scout and every family who participated in the bake sales and car washes that earned money for their generous purchase.”

She watched a range of emotions move across Wyatt’s face. He wasn’t the most expressive person she knew. He usually kept his face in a steady mildly pleasant or devilish mode. Rarely did anyone know when he was genuinely angry or concerned. At least, the Wyatt she’d known fifteen years ago was that way, and she suspected he hadn’t changed all that much. Right now, he appeared frustrated.

“You’re right. We can’t diss the Scouts.”

“We aren’t considering dissing the Scouts. You’re the one who doesn’t like the decorations. I never realized that you were such a holiday design…enthusiast.”

“You make that sound like something bad. Or tawdry.” He shook his head. “I’m not an expert on design. That’s why I want to hire someone to help make the community center really fantastic. You may not realize it, but I care about this town.”

Toni shrugged. “You may care, but you don’t spend much time here.”

“My parents come to visit me in California. They enjoy the travel, and I have been a little busy with my business.”

“And your social activities,” Toni added, feeling somewhat testy as she remembered all the photos she’d seen of Wyatt attending this big function or that one, with a gorgeous woman on his arm or gazing adoringly at him.

“Jealous?”

“Don’t flatter yourself. I’m just commenting that you had plenty of time to run around Hollywood or Seattle or New York City, but you’ve barely visited your hometown since you left. The hometown that you care so much about that you want to hire a design firm to install new decorations at the community center you’re supposed to be fixing up for the holidays.”

“I think you’re jealous.”

She pushed herself out of her chair so fast she almost gave herself whiplash. “I am not jealous! I’m…I’m angry.”

“Why are you angry at me? For having fun? For having money to spend on the community center if I want to?”

She felt as if her head might explode. Arguing with Wyatt had always affected her this way. “Yes! I scrape every dime out of our town’s budget, haggle with our city manager for needed projects and get threatened with being voted out of office when I suggest boosting revenue. Then you roll into town in your outrageous vehicle to complete a sentence that is just another publicity scheme for you. So, yes, I’m angry!”