Christmas at Blue Moon Ranch

Willa gazed at him in confusion. “When did you come down to visit? Seems like I would have met…” She stumbled to a stop as he shook his head.

“I didn’t visit. I liked the sound of the Wild Horse Desert and Texas. There was a house and a barn and a thousand acres of land. I didn’t need to know anything else. I called the real estate agent that afternoon and made the offer.”

The idea of such impetuosity left Willa breathless and uneasy. “That’s…that’s a big risk, don’t you think? With a lot of money?”

He shrugged one shoulder. “My parents left me a healthy life insurance policy and some very smart investments. Sometimes you have to go with your gut instincts. And my instincts tell me that the New Moon ranch is just what I want.” He leaned toward her, holding out the pitcher. “More wine?”

“I shouldn’t.” But she didn’t draw her glass away. Yes, she was a little buzzed, but what was the harm? The kids were safe at home—she’d called to check on them and the ranch before she’d come down to dinner. And she wouldn’t be driving tonight, thanks to the storm. After two years of being in charge, of always staying in control, couldn’t she have just one carefree evening?

“Such a serious face,” Daniel said. “What are you thinking about?”

Willa shook her head, then blew out a deep breath of relief. “Responsibility, and how good it feels to let go a little.”

Daniel nodded, and held up his own wineglass in a toast. “To freedom,” he said.

Smiling, Willa clinked her rim against his. “To freedom.” They drank, holding each other’s gazes, and she felt a quiver deep inside, where nothing had stirred for a long, long time.

“Fajitas?” a distant voice said. “Enchiladas royale?”

“Dinner.” Willa broke her connection with Daniel and looked at the waiter. “Just in time. I’m…um…starving.”

“Me, too,” she heard Daniel murmur. “Me, too.”

SEVERAL HOURS LATER, WILLA leaned a shoulder against the wall as she and Daniel waited for the elevator. “I haven’t had this much to drink in years,” she confessed. “I’ll be sorry tomorrow morning.”

“Me, too.” He nodded slowly. “But sometimes you just have to cut loose, you know?”

The door beside her slid open and Willa tipped herself inside the elevator. “I guess. And you do tell some outrageously hila…hilarious jokes.”

With a line of concentration between his eyebrows, Daniel studied the elevator control panel. “What floor are you on?”

“Three.”

His eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Me, too.” After a couple of misses, he managed to stab the button. “Funny we didn’t see each other earlier.”

“Funny.” The car started with a jerk and the spin in Willa’s head accelerated. She balanced against the wall behind her and closed her eyes, which did not help, so she opened them to look straight across at Daniel. He was smiling as he looked back at her. Through the haze of alcohol surrounding them, she recognized the glint in his eyes for what it was. Desire, pure and simple. Daniel Trent was thinking about taking her to bed.

She’d been thinking the same thing about him for the past hour…or four drinks, whichever lasted longer.

Fortunately, the elevator door slid open and saved her from literally jumping his bones. Willa stepped carefully across the metal threshold and studied the sign on the opposite wall.

“My room’s this way.” She swayed to the left. “G’night.”

“Mine is, too.” Daniel followed her. She could feel him behind her, big and warm and sexy. Damn him.

Concentrating hard, Willa read the room numbers as she walked along. “This is me. 334.” She slid the key card in, took it out and turned it around so the arrow pointed in the right direction, then tried again. “’Night.”

“334.” Daniel nodded. “I’m 343.” As she looked back, he braced a hand on the wall beside her head and stood for a second just gazing at her. Reading his face, she knew all she’d have to do was ask him in. He’d take over from there. He wanted her. She wanted him. Badly.

“Good night,” Willa said distinctly, emphatically. Then she tripped into the hallway of her room, turned and shut the door in his handsome face.

“’Night, Willa,” he said from the other side. With her cheek pressed against the door panel, she heard him whistling as he moved further down the hall, toward 343. The whistling stopped, and she could visualize Daniel focusing on getting the key card into the slot correctly.

“Damn.” He said the word softly, but with feeling. In another second, he swore again…and again, with more force.

Willa opened her door and peered down the hall. Daniel stood at the very end, next to the emergency exit, jabbing his key card into the lock.

He glanced back her way. “It won’t open.” Growling low in his throat, he raised a fist to pound on the door. “Dammit, the damn key won’t work.”

As he drew back his arm for another round of pounding, the door panel flew open. A short, round-bellied, gray-haired man stood on the threshold in a T-shirt and red plaid boxer shorts. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Daniel barely managed to avoid punching the guy in the face. The effort sent him staggering backward, up against the opposite wall. “This is my room!”

“This damn sure isn’t your room. And if you don’t shut up and get out I’m going to call security and the cops!” The door slammed shut.

Daniel closed his eyes and dropped his spinning head back against the wall. “Why is he in my room? Where am I gonna sleep?” He hadn’t been drunk in a long, long time. He hadn’t been this frustrated in even longer.

Cool fingers closed around his wrist. “Come on,” Willa said as he opened his eyes. “You can call the front desk from my room and find out what’s going on.”

Her touch soothed him like a soft salve on a hot burn. Blowing out a deep breath, Daniel followed without argument. Inside her dimly lit room, he dropped to sit on one of the beds and punched O on the phone. “This is Daniel Trent. I’m trying to get into my room—my key won’t work and there’s a guy already in there. What’s going on?”

A bored voice asked, “What room number is that, Mr. Trent?”

“My room. 343. Why is there someone else in my room?”

After a pause, the voice said, “Um…that’s not your room, Mr. Trent. You’ve mistaken the number.”

Daniel swore. “Well, what’s the right number?”

Another hesitation. “I can’t tell you that over the phone, Mr. Trent. If you’ll come down to the front desk and produce some I.D., we’ll be happy to give you the room number.”

“Oh, for God’s sake. It’s just a room. Tell me the number and let me go to bed!”

“I can’t do that without being certain of who you are. Our guests’ security—”

Daniel grunted and hung up the phone. “Great. I have to go back downstairs and give them some I.D. before they’ll tell me what room I’m in.”

Willa sat on the other bed, facing him, frankly laughing. “You’ve forgotten your room number?”

He rolled his eyes. “I haven’t had that much alcohol in quite a while.” Propping his cane in front of him, he pulled himself to his feet. “I’ll get out of your—”

The stick tilted. His head swirled, his balance deserted him and suddenly he was falling forward. Toward Willa. Daniel managed to twist enough to avoid landing on her, but his weak leg wouldn’t support his weight. He bounced onto the mattress beside her.

Laughing hard, Willa fell back to lie beside him.

“I didn’t do that on purpose,” Daniel said. “I told you—”

“I know. We’ve both had too much to drink.” She wiped her eyes, still laughing. “What a disaster.”

“Yeah.” He propped himself on an elbow and looked down at her. “You’re beautiful when you laugh.”

She sniffed and wiped her eyes again. “That’s quite a line.”

“No line.” He touched her cheek with his fingertips. “Soft. Smooth.”

“Daniel…”

“You can stop me,” he told her as he leaned closer. “Just say no.” A slight press of his fingers turned her face toward his. He brushed his lips across hers. “Just say no.”

He made another pass across that wide, generous mouth, but he didn’t hear a word. Her hand came up and cupped the back of his neck, bringing him even closer. And then he was kissing Willa Mercado for all he was worth.

Willa couldn’t believe how good it felt. How good he felt. The size and weight of him, the warmth of him surrounding her, seemed like a miracle. She’d been so cold for so long.

His mouth skimmed hers, lingered, plundered. He tasted of tequila and lime, but also something essentially, basically male. He smelled like soap and clean clothes and good man. As he kissed his way across her cheek and down her throat, she buried her face in the bend of his neck and breathed deeply of that wonderful scent.

Like magic, the buttons of her blouse came undone. For a second the air chilled her bare skin, but then Daniel chased the cold away, pressing kisses on her breast bone, the balls of her shoulders, the hollow between her breasts and everywhere in between. Willa sighed, and in the next moment her bra disappeared. First his hand claimed her and then his mouth, and she cried out at the shock of pleasure.

She went a little crazy after that, desperate for more of…well, everything. Her fingers fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, and she gave up after the second one to pull the damn thing over his head. To her surprise, he wore a plain white T-shirt underneath, yet another barrier. When she reached for the hem, though, Daniel drew back.

“Don’t,” he said raggedly, and bent to kiss the inner curve of her elbow. “I’m not nearly as gorgeous as you are.”

Willa gasped at the stroke of his tongue against her skin, and forgot to argue with him. A few minutes later he eased her slacks over her hips. Once he’d dragged his palm along the length of her legs, she wasn’t sure she remembered her own name.

“Daniel,” she whispered, arching closer, wrapping a leg around his hips to draw him nearer still. Hard met soft, and she moaned. “Please. Please, tell me we don’t have to stop.”

She heard his low chuckle, saw a flash of that fabulous grin. He backed off enough to unfasten and strip off his jeans.

“Not a chance. I was a Boy Scout.” He jerked his wallet out of the discarded pants and pulled out a duo of condoms. In the second he used to break open one package, Willa stroked her hand up his thigh, underneath the hem of his pale blue boxers.

Instead of the smooth skin and firm muscle she expected, the flesh she touched was a landscape of ridges and valleys, hard and harsh.

Daniel froze, and she looked at him in horror. “My God,” Willa said. “Those are…scars?”

He nodded, then took a deep breath. “Sorry.” With an awkward shift of his hips, he started to move away.

But Willa came with him. “No. Daniel, don’t.” On her knees behind him, she put her arms around his shoulders and her head on his shoulder. “Don’t.”

His shoulders lifted on a deep breath. “I wasn’t thinking. I know what I look like. I shouldn’t have subjected—”

“Hush.” She sat back on her heels and grasped the hem of the T-shirt. He jerked, clearly wanting to escape, but she put a hand on his shoulder. “Stay.” Biting her lower lip, she deliberately peeled up the white T-shirt, uncovering the mutilated skin of his back. Tears rolled down her face as Willa studied the map of purple grooves and red hills she’d revealed.

“I’m so sorry.” She put a finger gently on one of the scars. “So sorry.” The pain he’d endured was unimaginable. How had he even survived? If Jamie had come back to her like this…how would he have felt? What would she have done?

“It’s okay.” Daniel pulled down the T-shirt again and shifted to face her. “I’m okay. Really. Don’t cry, Willa.” He wiped her cheeks with his thumbs, then bent to give her a quick kiss.

She understood he meant to leave without finishing what they’d started. But despite seeing the horrors he’d suffered, Willa didn’t want to let him go. Even as he drew back, she circled her arms around his neck.

“Stay.”

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.

SHE 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.

WHEN 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.

Chapter Three

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.