Christmas at Blue Moon Ranch Read online

  DANIEL HAD STAYED AT LA CASA the night before, so he bypassed the reception area for the side door closest to the elevator. He’d bolted down some pain pills with the dregs of a soda he’d left in the truck. Now he just needed to stretch out on a bed and wait for them to take effect.

  His stomach woke him up an hour later, growling like a grizzly bear at the end of winter. As he stripped off his damp shirt and jeans to take a shower, he kept his back to the mirror. All his life, he’d taken his functional, unscarred body for granted, and he still wasn’t adjusted to the new reality. The last woman he’d dated hadn’t even wanted to try.

  In the motel dining room, he chose a table giving him a view of the thunderstorm still raging outside and savored the tart flavor of a margarita as he watched rain sheeting the windows. Willa Mercado just might be stubborn enough to believe she could drive through this kind of weather, but Daniel hoped she was smarter than that. He was tempted to try to reach her through the hotel switchboard, just to see if she’d checked in. Otherwise, he’d probably spend the night worrying about her.

  Even as the thought occurred to him, she appeared at the entrance to the restaurant. She looked more relaxed than she had at the lawyer’s office, and the smile she gave the hostess was downright friendly. Daniel thought he’d have to try to earn himself a few of Willa Mercado’s smiles.

  Thanks to the pain medicine, he got to his feet fairly smoothly as she approached his table. “Good evening,” he said, as she jerked to a stop upon seeing him. “I’d be happy to have you join me.”

  The hostess assumed Willa would agree and disappeared. From the line between Willa’s arched eyebrows, though, Daniel wasn’t so sure. “Please?” he said.

  She took in a deep breath and then blew it out. “Sure. Thanks.” Once seated, she folded her arms on the table and stared straight at him. “You look better.”

  Her perception startled him. “I…um…got a nap. And some pills.”

  “For the bum leg.” The corner of her mouth quirked—nearly a smile.

  “Right.”

  “Were you in a car accident?”

  He shrugged. “You could say that. My truck ran over an IED in Iraq. That’s an—”

  She held up a hand. “I know what it is. Improvised explosive device. My husband Jamie was killed by one. In Iraq.”

  Daniel swore under his breath. “I’m sorry.” Grabbing his cane, he started to get up. “The last thing I want to do is remind you of your loss. I’ll let you enjoy your dinner in peace.”

  Willa could have let him go. She’d looked forward to dinner by herself, hadn’t wanted to share a meal with this…this intruder.

  Yet she found herself on her feet, putting a hand on his arm to stop him before he moved away.

  “Don’t leave, Daniel.” She met his troubled blue gaze with an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry I’ve been so rude. We can’t go anywhere else while this storm lasts, and we’re going to be neighbors. Let’s get to know each other.”

  Chapter Two

  By the time their salads were served, Willa was no longer surprised to find herself chuckling, even laughing aloud, at some of Daniel’s comments. He possessed a wealth of stories about his travels with the Army, along with a charming, humorous way of telling them.

  She’d offered a few details about her family—thirteen-year-old twins Robbie and Susannah, ten-year-old Toby, plus Jamie’s aunts, Rosa and Lilianna, who lived with them and took care of the house. The margarita she’d enjoyed with their tortilla chips and salsa had helped her relax, of course. Now they were sharing a pitcher of sangria, a temptation she hadn’t indulged in since before Jamie had left. For the first time in more than two years, Willa allowed her worries to slip to the back of her mind while she concentrated on the here and now.

  “Here and now” being an incredibly attractive man who seemed to be enjoying himself very much indeed. She took a sip of the wine, then another, and voiced the question that had been on her mind all afternoon. “What made you decide to take up ranching? I mean…you don’t have the background, or a family connection. And it’s not exactly a career the military trains you for, right?”

  “Right.” He watched the wine slosh gently as he rolled the stem of his goblet between two fingers. “I guess it sounds pretty crazy. Everybody I’ve talked to thinks so…including you.” His grin flashed. “It was about a year ago, I guess, I was sitting in some doctor’s office for what seemed like appointment one thousand, facing more surgery and time in a hospital bed. I picked up one of those magazines about the West, and started looking at an article on some big actor’s ‘alternative lifestyle.’”

  With a glance at her face, he continued. “Gorgeous scenery, working outside in the fresh air and sunshine with animals and nature—what’s not to like?”

  Willa rolled her eyes. “I could give you a list a mile long.”

  He held up a hand. “Leave me my illusions, for a few more days, at least. After twelve years in the Army, I knew I wanted to be my own boss, make my own decisions. Ranching seemed to me—still seems—like an independent, productive way to live.”

  Willa decided to forbear commenting on his naiveté. “I haven’t seen too many famous actors buying up land in Zapata County. So why did you decide on south Texas? What made you decide to buy my…this particular piece of land? How many other ranches did you see?”

  Daniel shook his head. “Not a single one. I read your ad…‘For Sale, 1000 Acres of the beautiful Wild Horse Desert in the heart of Texas cattle country. House and barn ready for occupation. Your dream is waiting!’” He pretended to slap himself, first one cheek and then the other. “That’s all it took.”

  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 w
as 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.