Christmas at Blue Moon Ranch. Lynnette Kent

      He bustled out, leaving the door open, but returned before Daniel had a chance to say anything to the woman across the table. “I just looked at the calendar,” Juan said. “Three months from today will be Christmas Eve. I thought I’d ask whether you want to set something up after the New Year.” He gave an apologetic shrug. “Our office is usually closed that last week of December.”

      Willa opened her mouth, but Daniel spoke first. “Set it up for December twenty-first,” he said. “I plan to spend Christmas on the New Moon Ranch.”

      He heard the click of teeth as Willa snapped her jaws shut.

      WITH THEIR BUSINESS COMPLETED—for good or for ill, and Willa wasn’t sure which—Juan led them back to the front of the office, where the sound of rain drumming on the roof resembled the thunder of stampeding cattle. The storm had arrived with a vengeance.

      “I’ve been listening to the weather,” Julie volunteered. “They’re predicting flash floods for the rest of today and tonight, plus the possibility of tornadoes.”

      “A bad night to travel.” Juan stood between Willa and Daniel as they stared out at the downpour. “Willa, you should probably stay in town for the evening, go home tomorrow after the storm passes. La Casa Motel, just down the road, is a pretty nice place.”

      “I’ve got a spare umbrella.” Julie came to stand beside her. “You’re welcome to use it to get to your car.”

      “Thanks.” Willa held the door open with her shoulder and opened the umbrella just outside. As she started out into the deluge, Daniel Trent took her place in the doorway. Still sheltered by the roof over the walk, Willa obeyed the prompting of her better nature and waved at him to join her. “Come on—we can share.”

      His sunny smile seemed to brighten the weather. “I don’t mind if I do. I’m no fan of drowning.” He joined her under the umbrella, automatically reaching for the curved handle.

      But her hand was already there, and for a moment his warm, dry palm closed over her fingers. Willa gave a little gasp as the friction between his skin and hers set off tingles that ran up her arm and into her chest. Standing so close to her, Daniel Trent was much bigger than she’d realized, his frame more imposing. She felt sheltered, having him between her and the storm.

      “Your truck’s closer,” he said, bending his head to speak into her ear, and another shiver swept through her. “Let’s go that way.”

      Willa nodded. Three inches of water had pooled on the asphalt parking lot, soaking into her one pair of good dress shoes with each step. Alone, she would have sprinted through the rain to the truck but, thinking of Daniel’s leg, she matched her speed to the one he set. By the time they reached her truck, her slacks were soaked from the knees down.

      “Thank God for remote keys,” she said, pulling the door open as soon as she could touch the handle. Daniel raised the umbrella to shelter her while she climbed in, then backed away as soon as she got seated. With the cane in one hand and the umbrella in the other, he gave her a nod before turning toward a shiny silver pickup parked several rows over from hers. He’d bought himself a fancy new truck to go with his new ranch.

      Willa squeezed her eyes shut. She intended to deny him his ranch…his dream. Guilt pounded in her temples and throbbed at the back of her neck.

      Or maybe that was hunger. Breakfast had happened before sunrise and she’d skipped lunch to finish up her chores prior to heading into town. Even if she didn’t stay the night, she could check into La Casa Motel for a few hours, get a nap and a good meal before the drive home. She’d have to deal with Daniel Trent as a neighbor soon enough. Then she’d know whether she should feel guilty at the bargain she’d struck…or relieved.

      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