Книга - A Texan Returns

A Texan Returns
Victoria Chancellor


Billionaire bachelor Wyatt McCall left some unfinished business behind when he skipped town fifteen years ago.Like Toni Casale, his former love. Now Brody's Crossing's take-charge mayor, Toni is already putting Wyatt to work for the holidays. But does the bossy blonde know she still takes his breath away? Wyatt is still sexy, still gorgeous–and still pulling those outrageous stunts that made him famous in high school.If she doesn't watch out, Toni will fall for Wyatt all over again. But it may already be too late. Because this time around, the Texas troublemaker is planning something that could reunite him with the woman he loves–and give their hometown a Christmas they'll never forget!









“Wyatt, I can’t…get involved.”


“Then don’t. Just kiss me now. No commitment and no promises.”

“Just like before.”

“No. Better. We’re both adults. Let’s see what it would be like for just this moment.”

“Oh, Wyatt,” she whispered. “Everyone always said you could sell ice to Eskimos.”

He smiled, dipped his head and kissed her slowly. Very slowly, savoring her soft lips and warm mouth that tasted of hot chocolate.

“Toni,” he whispered, but didn’t know what else to say. No promises, he reminded himself. They weren’t meant to be together forever, but maybe they were meant for each other now.


Dear Reader,

Happy holidays from my home in Texas to your place in the world. As I write this letter, I’ve just become a grandmother for the second time and I’m planning the last two books in my BRODY’S CROSSING series. The year stretches ahead, filled with promise and opportunities. I hope you feel the same during the Christmas season, regardless of which holidays you celebrate.

Both my hero and heroine have been mentioned in previous books and I just love both of them. Toni Casale is a strong career woman, beautiful and smart, doing well in a traditionally male occupation. Wyatt McCall is the type of man who has an insatiable zest for life, a high level of energy and enough boyish charm to make him the most popular man anywhere, even without his billions. Wyatt and Toni were an item all through high school, and everyone in Brody’s Crossing expected them to be together forever. He had other ideas, leaving for college right after graduation, and leaving Toni with questions and no answers.

Now Wyatt is back in town, making good on a fifteen-year-old sentence by the municipal court, resolving his past transgressions so he’ll be a good role model for the kids he’s trying to help with his new foundation. And taking another chance on his relationship with the only woman he’s ever loved. I hope you enjoy the time you spend with Wyatt, Toni and the rest of the Brody’s Crossing citizens during this very special season. Best wishes for a wonderful holiday and a happy 2009.

Victoria Chancellor




A Texan Returns


Victoria Chancellor









ABOUT THE AUTHOR


Victoria Chancellor married a visiting Texan in her home state of Kentucky thirty-five years ago, and has lived in the Lone Star State for thirty-two years, after a brief stay in Colorado. Her household includes her husband, four cats, a very spoiled miniature pinscher, an atrium full of tortoises, turtles and toads, and lots of visiting wild critters. Last year she was blessed with both a new son-in-law and a granddaughter. Her former careers include fine jewelry sales, military security and financial systems analysis. She would love to hear from you via her Web site, www.victoriachancellor.com, or P.O. Box 852125, Richardson, TX 75085-2125.


To my granddaughters, Lilly and Roxie.

Stay away from boys like Wild Wyatt McCall!




Contents


Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen




Chapter One


Monday, December 1, 2008

Wyatt McCall jammed his rented Hummer into Park in front of the Casale Remodeling offices. He stepped out of the vehicle and slammed the door. The sound was followed closely by the less forceful door-closing of his ever-present personal assistant’s assistant, Cassie. On the other side of the H2, his public-relations director, Louisa, exited the rear passenger seat. “You might want to wait outside,” he told the two women.

“No way,” Cassie said, hugging her lightweight suit jacket around her. “You could need us.”

“What, as witnesses to a murder?” he replied as he yanked open the front door. A large evergreen wreath adorned with a copper-colored wire mesh ribbon slapped against the glass inset and copper ribbons adorned with jingle bells jangled wildly as they bumped against the wooden door.

This building had been a small appliance store way back when he’d been a boy in Brody’s Crossing. Now the walls, the flooring and the door looked different. More classy and modern. Efficient, not fussy. Toni had put her stamp on everything.

Including him. But that was very old news.

“Um, maybe you should wait just a minute to compose yourself,” Louisa suggested.

“No way. I like my bad attitude.” He pulled back his leather jacket to slip his Oakleys into the collar of his sweater. After looking around to get his bearings, he followed the hallway past an empty conference room to what appeared to be Toni’s office.

“Hello, Wyatt,” she said before he could get after her for ratting him out to a reporter about his youthful transgression. His last one in a long history of acts of misbehavior in Brody’s Crossing.

She sat behind a modern design wood desk, her hands folded in front of her. By choice he’d only seen her a few times in the past fifteen years, on his rare visits to town, and always from a distance. She still took his breath away. Today she wore a royal-blue sweater and who-knew-what below. Jeans or chinos? A skirt that showed off her incredible legs? Or maybe tall black boots.

Her expression conveyed calm and serenity—the exact opposite of what he was feeling, now that he’d gotten his breath back. He wanted to ruffle her sleek blond hair. Pull her out of that big office chair and…

“I’m very sorry for what happened,” Toni said. “When I spoke to that reporter, I only meant to give him background.”

“Well, you did that,” Wyatt said, stepping into the room. “Background that made me look like an irresponsible juvenile delinquent.”

“Wyatt, in all fairness, you were irresponsible and a troublemaker.”

He shrugged. “A minor infraction that you turned into a major incident.” It was damned irritating that she’d revealed to the national magazine reporter, who was doing a story on Wyatt’s newly formed foundation for at-risk kids, that he’d skipped town fifteen years ago, before finishing his municipal sentence for painting the water tower purple and gold. Once the story came out, questions from others in the media and even some business associates had elevated the old incident from a triviality into a potential problem.

How could a very successful man—albeit a former troublemaker—serve as a role model for potential juvenile delinquents when he’d been so irresponsible that he hadn’t even completed his court-imposed sentence? He couldn’t! He had to make this right so he could be a positive influence on those kids. He was one of the only people around who had both the money and the background to make a real difference.

His people had worked with the city officials to come up with a PR solution: Wyatt would come back to Brody’s Crossing for some community service, to make amends for leaving the sentence unfinished, and he’d get photos and a new story on the importance of making things right. And personally he’d get to put his past misbehavior behind him. To make it right for himself, not just the town or the media.

Although at the moment, he could barely remember why he’d thought coming back to town was a good idea. Not with Toni Casale sitting in front of him, looking all serene and grown-up.

“You’re not being very fair,” she said.

“I’m not feeling very fair. As a matter of fact, I’m kind of angry.” Angry at himself, for spending his youth as a prankster, and at her, for being mayor of the town in which they’d grown up. And at the situation, which was both their faults. He might have painted their school colors on the tower, but she’d leaked the news that he’d left town before it was completely boring-white again. Everyone in Brody’s Crossing knew he’d left for Stanford fifteen years ago, white paint still under his nails, but only she had brought up the subject in an interview. Maybe, deep down inside, she was still mad at him for leaving so suddenly.

“I told you I’m sorry.”

“Are you sorry as the mayor or as my former girlfriend?”

She drew in a deep breath. “Both, I suppose. Maybe because we used to be friends and I know what it feels like to be…disappointed.”

He narrowed his eyes and suppressed a comeback. She had a point, one that he didn’t want to explore at the moment. Her reasonable attitude and reminders of the past took the wind out of his sails. “Whatever your intentions, the point is that I’m back in town to finish my ‘sentence’ and we all have to make the best of it.”

“With all due respect,” Toni said, pushing out of her chair, “I’m not the one who has to do anything.”

She wore a straight chino skirt, not as short as he’d hoped, with brown boots that looked more conservative than the stiletto-heeled black ones he’d envisioned. She hadn’t gained weight in the past fifteen years. Not that he’d wanted her to, of course, but if she were sporting humongous saddlebags or if she’d started dressing like the construction workers she employed, he’d have had an easier time living in the same town with her for the next couple of weeks.

“You have to put up with me. It’s hard to believe, but I can be hard to get along with. Just ask—” he turned, looking over his shoulder “—Louisa and Cassie.”

He stepped aside and Toni peered around him. “Hello.”

“Cassie McMann is my assistant’s assistant and Louisa Palmer is my public-relations director.”

“Hi,” Cassie said, grimacing that characteristic funny smile of hers.

“Nice to meet you,” Louisa said in her best PR voice.

Toni rounded the desk, grabbed Wyatt’s arm and pulled him into the hallway. The fact that she’d gotten him alone almost made up for the defiant sparkle in her eyes. She dropped his bicep like a hot potato. “You brought your people to help you finish your sentence?” she asked in a raspy whisper.

“They’re not here to help me do any actual work. I can handle that. They’re here to keep me out of trouble with seemingly well-intentioned former friends. And the media.”

“Would those be the friends you abruptly left when you moved away? The friends you conveniently forgot to contact once you made it big?”

That sounded a bit personal. “I didn’t forget the town.” He’d sent checks to some of his parents’ favorite causes. And maybe a few to make up for his youthful indiscretions. His foundation, based in California, would eventually work nationally to help kids who had gone astray and had no one else to pull them back from the edge. Bored kids, smart kids with too much time on their hands, frustrated kids. Kids from bad homes—or good homes where they weren’t understood. The causes of their problems weren’t as important to him as the result.

Some people might think he was just one more rich guy doing something to make himself look good, but this work hit a lot closer to home than most folks realized. He, more than most, understood the importance of channeling all that energy, resentment and anger into positive pursuits rather than lashing out at the most convenient target.

In his case, that damned water tower where he and Toni used to go to make out.

“You might not have forgotten that you grew up here, but you seemed to forget the people in the town,” she said. “Your friends, in case you’ve forgotten.”

“I didn’t think that certain friends were interested in ever speaking to me again.” He and Toni had had some outstanding arguments…and equally fantastic makeup sex. Except for that last time, when there’d been no makeup anything.

Toni rolled her eyes. “Come on, Wyatt. Bring your entourage and come over to city hall. I’ve arranged a meeting with the new chief of police and the city manager so we can go over the details of your ‘sentence,’ as you put it. You’re lucky the city went along with your ideas about publicly making amends. They certainly didn’t have to legally, since the incident happened fifteen years ago.” She started back to her office.

Wyatt wasn’t about to let that comment about an entourage go unchallenged. He put a hand on her arm, halting her. “Cassie and Louisa are employees, not an entourage.”

Toni shook off his light grip as if she didn’t want him to touch her. “I’m sure they’re perfectly lovely women. I simply didn’t realize what dealing with such a famous entrepreneur would entail.” She walked to her desk and grabbed a big ring of keys. “Most people who come to visit don’t bring their staff.”

“I only brought two people,” he said, then realized he sounded too defensive. “I’m still on the board of directors for my former business and I’ve got a foundation to get running.”

“Believe me, I know. I’ve heard nothing but inquiries on the famous billionaire bachelor Wyatt McCall. I’m surprised you didn’t bring bodyguards.”

Cassie had suggested that very thing, but Wyatt didn’t need them in Brody’s Crossing. He wasn’t exactly making news, he wasn’t one of those “bad boys” who attracted paparazzi, and besides, staying in and around Brody’s Crossing wasn’t easy due to the lack of motel rooms. But he needed to get this task done so that the follow-up story would reflect well on his foundation.

“Being famous sure beats being infamous,” he said.

“In your case,” Toni said, looking back over her shoulder as she grabbed her own brown leather jacket on the way out the door, “I’m not sure there’s a difference. At least, not here in Brody’s Crossing.”

“You’ll know soon enough. I’m going to be on my best behavior.” Despite the way Toni looked in that modest skirt and that beckoning blue sweater. She’d always had a figure made for sweaters. And short skirts.

“I sure hope so,” she said. “For all our sakes, please just do the work to finish your sentence and get back to the West Coast.”

“That’s the plan, isn’t it?” he said as he settled his sunglasses in place and followed her out the door. Of course, when had he ever followed someone else’s plan?



THE STATUTE OF LIMITATIONS had run out long ago on the crime of painting the water tower purple and gold, but the memories of most people in town were vivid, Wyatt learned as he walked down the sidewalk along Main Street.

“Wyatt! Good to see you back. You stay out of trouble, now, you hear?” Rodney Bell called out from across the street.

“Wyatt, you devil. What are you up to now?” Bobbi Jean Maxwell asked with a big grin as she parked her car in front of the bank on the corner.

“Wyatt, what devilment do you have planned this time?” First National’s president, George Russell, called out from the bank’s entrance, chuckling and waving as Wyatt, Toni, Cassie and Louisa walked past. Good thing the citizens of Brody’s Crossing only knew about a few of his misdeeds. The tip of the iceberg, so to speak.

They crossed Main Street and headed to the city administration building on the opposite corner. Hopefully, this meeting would be quick. He’d get his sentence and get this ordeal over with. He had no intention of doing anything to give the citizens of Brody’s Crossing any new fodder for gossip. He was a changed man, an adult.

Well, most of the time, anyway.

He got his assignment from a rather apologetic city manager. Decorate the community center lawn for the holidays, using some existing decorations. In return, in Wyatt’s honor, city officials were moving the annual chili dinner to the same weekend as the parade. They wanted him to make a few comments and attend the dinner, and then he was free to go back to California.

The new police chief—Daniel Montoya, according to the name tag and introduction—said very little. After all, this wasn’t a police matter. This wasn’t even a court matter any longer. As long as he didn’t get into any more trouble, Wyatt and the police chief wouldn’t have any reason to see each other except over a bowl of chili next weekend.

“That should give you some good opportunities for PR photos,” Toni told Louisa, then looked at him as if it were his idea to play up his return to town. Hell, if it hadn’t been for Toni blabbing to the reporter, no one would have known about the time long ago that he’d publicly shown his school spirit.

He agreed to the community center project, smiled and shook hands, then stalked back to the H2. He’d decorate the community center as it had never been decorated before. He’d show Toni Casale that he could be a model citizen, even when technically he didn’t need to do a single thing.

“Buckle up,” he told Cassie and Louisa as he pulled out of the parking space, heading around the block and back south toward their home for the next week or so.

“Do you have directions?” Cassie asked, glancing at the GPS installed in the H2.

“I know where we’re going without satellite assistance,” he told her. After all, he’d lived here for eighteen years. Although some new businesses had opened recently, most of the structures were the same, he noticed as they drove east on Main Street, just a couple of blocks from downtown.

Wyatt could have stayed with his parents, but since Cassie and Louisa were here also, he’d opted for the renovated Sweet Dreams Motel. The place looked much better now than he’d remembered from his youth, he thought as he pulled into the newly asphalted lot.

His parents had always referred to the place as “that rattrap” and made disparaging remarks about the people who stayed there. Transients and riffraff, they’d said. To Wyatt, the folks had looked more like hourly workers and poor visitors. Once, he’d ridden his bicycle over to see who was really there. He’d accidentally seen the former chief of police come out of one of the rooms, followed by a woman who wasn’t his wife.

That had started Wyatt’s brushes with the law. The old chief of police had never forgotten the nosy kid from the wealthiest family in town. The new chief, Montoya, seemed like an upstanding guy who wanted no part of the limelight. Smart man.

Wyatt parked between crisply painted white lines, then they went into the office. Before long they had their room keys and headed down the walkway that led to the ten or so doorways.

“So, your room looks comfortable,” Wyatt commented as he deposited Louisa’s suitcase in her room. She’d told him that each room was different. The one she’d chosen was sort of Hollywood glam, with old black-and-white movie-star photos and movie posters from the 1950s. The bedspread was silvery satin, the kind that you could imagine slipping off of at the worst possible time. A shiny aluminum Christmas tree sparkled with pink lights and black ornaments.

“My room is Old West,” Cassie said, poking her head in the doorway. “It is soooo Texas.”

Wyatt smiled. Neither of his employees had ever visited Texas before, so he doubted they knew much about what was authentic and what had been manufactured by Hollywood. He left Louisa’s suitcase on her floor and walked next door to Cassie’s room. Sure enough, there was knotty pine paneling, chunky wood furniture and an artificial pine Christmas tree with handcrafted ornaments. A vintage-looking red-and-black blanket covered the double bed.

“Were you a cowboy growing up?” Cassie asked, looking at a Remington reproduction print of cowboys racing after a stampede.

“No, not really, but I can ride a horse.” Although his parents owned a ranch, Wyatt didn’t know much about cattle. Most of his life, there had been more oil than cattle production on the acres. Plus, his parents had always said he was destined for bigger things than running a ranch.

He’d never thought that there was anything wrong with running a ranch, although the idea of doing only that day after day made him itchy. He needed new challenges. He’d always been drawn to technology more than nature.

“I’d love to ride a horse while we’re here,” Cassie said. “I rode a pony when I was a child.”

“That’s all? You’ve never gone riding since then?”

“No.” She grimaced again, and he couldn’t tell if there was a good story or a bad one behind the single-word answer. He hadn’t spent a lot of time around her, since she reported to Brian Peters, his jack-of-all-trades assistant. Brian was back in California, running interference between the new foundation director and Wyatt’s continuing business interests. Cassie had seemed a good fit for the short trip to Texas because he needed someone to handle things that Brian usually tackled.

“We’ll go out to the ranch. Or if my parents don’t have horses you can ride, we’ll visit someone who does. I know lots of people who still live around here.”

“The horses won’t be dangerous, will they?” Louisa asked, entering Cassie’s room. “Getting hurt while we’re here wouldn’t be good press.”

“I don’t want to be any trouble,” Cassie said.

“No, it will be fine. Nice. I haven’t ridden lately, either.”

“You’re a fun boss,” Cassie said.

Louisa nudged her. “Come on, let’s get unpacked. I have a press release to prepare for the Web site and the local newspaper.”

Wyatt left the women and walked a few more steps down the covered walkway to his room on the end. This was the honeymoon suite, the manager had told Cassie when she’d reserved the rooms. It was the largest suite and featured a whirlpool tub and walk-in shower. He unlocked the door and stepped onto thick gray carpet. A king-size bed with a pink-and-gray retro-print satin bedspread dominated the room. Two chairs in what he thought were Danish Modern style sat beneath the corner windows. On the table between the chairs there was a fluffy white Christmas tree with clear lights and glittery stars.

He rolled his suitcase to a stop near the bed, then placed his laptop case on the table. There was also a built-in unit that hid the television, a small refrigerator and microwave.

“For those late-night honeymoon snacks,” he muttered on his way to the bathroom. Not that he knew from personal experience. He’d never been married or even come close. He’d been very careful to avoid that trap.

The bathroom was spacious and modern, tiled in pink and gray, as if it were really from the 1950s. The place would be fine for him. After all, he wouldn’t be in town that long. Just long enough to decorate the community center, participate in a few local activities and see old friends whom, as Toni had pointed out, he’d neglected in the past fifteen years.

Hell, he’d been busy. He’d had a company to build, a product to develop, a fortune to amass.

Besides, they all had lives here. Families and friends and futures in Brody’s Crossing. He’d run from Texas as fast and as far as he could. He’d spent the past fifteen years hugging the West Coast, literally. His house overlooked the Pacific and he ran on the beach now, as far west as possible without crossing the ocean.

“Hello?” A woman’s voice pulled him from the bathroom and into the main room. He must have forgotten to close the door.

A statuesque pregnant blonde stood next to Cal Crawford. He’d gone to school with Cal’s younger brother, Troy. Cal held a little boy, so he supposed the rancher was a family man now.

“Hey, Wyatt,” Cal said. “Good to see you.”

“Mr. McCall,” the blonde said, holding out her hand, “I’m Christie Crawford, the owner of the motel. I just wanted to say hello and welcome you back.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Crawford,” Wyatt said, slipping back into “Texas mode” easier than he’d thought possible.

“Christie, please.”

Wyatt smiled and nodded. “Christie, then.” He reached forward and shook Cal’s free hand. “Good to see you, Cal. Where’s that brother of yours?”

Cal snorted. “New Hampshire. Married to a Yankee vegetarian organic farmer.”

Wyatt laughed at Cal’s description of his sister-in-law and his obvious scorn at the idea of Troy living in the north. “And who is this?”

“This is Peter,” Cal told him. “He’s fifteen months.”

The baby smiled, showing several teeth, and struggled to get down. “He’s a handful,” Christie said.

“I suppose so.” Wyatt knew nothing about babies, except that they eventually grew into children who needed computers and software and digital television. They wanted games, text messaging and media uploads. He was all for that, but as for the little ones still in diapers…he’d leave them to their parents. “So, you’re a dad,” he said unnecessarily to Cal.

Cal smiled—something Wyatt didn’t remember him doing much when they were younger. “Married and everything, with another one on the way.”

“Congratulations. Still on the Rocking C?”

“Of course. We’re building a new house, so it’s kind of torn up right now.”

Wyatt nodded. He stayed away from construction whenever possible. Why be uncomfortable and inconvenienced like that? He’d bought his house empty, but completely finished after the former owner had gone belly-up in the import business.

“I’ll let you get unpacked,” Christie said. “Is there anything else you need? We have a conference room next to the office, and we keep coffee, drinks and snacks by the front desk.”

“I’m just fine, thanks. I can run by Casale’s Grocery if we need anything.” And possibly see Mrs. Casale, who probably didn’t want to see him. If only she knew what he and Toni had been doing all those nights when they’d told her they were studying. Exploring human anatomy was more like it.

“Just let me know if you need anything,” Cal’s wife said, and Wyatt promised he would as he shut the door after the happy couple.

What he needed was for this week to be over with, so he could put Brody’s Crossing behind him…again. Louisa would get her PR photos, the magazines would have their stories and he’d get back to his real life. The one without a certain blonde who could play havoc with his peace of mind.

He’d return to his house, where his housekeeper, Mrs. Nakimoto, had no doubt contracted with a decorator or two to produce stunning Christmas trees for several rooms in his white-on-white house.

Not one of them would have vintage or handmade ornaments, like this motel fifty miles from anywhere. But they’d look good, at least to some decorator’s critical eye.

He unclipped his cell phone from his waistband and fell back on the bed. Were there any decent channels on the TV? He wouldn’t be too surprised to see old reruns of I Love Lucy or Lassie in this family-oriented community, although since he was in the honeymoon suite, perhaps they had something racier.

With Toni nearby he didn’t need sexy movies to heat his blood. She’d starred in quite a few of his dreams over the years, even though he’d tried to get her out of his head. Now that he was back, he decided, reclining on a satin comforter, he’d have to work extra hard to stay angry at his former girlfriend.

The other option—that he give in to the attraction that hadn’t ever gone away—wasn’t a good alternative. Not if he wanted to be on his best behavior for the next week.




Chapter Two


Toni carefully pulled apart the blinds on her front window and looked at the wooded lot surrounding the community center across the street. Wyatt stood in the midst of white wire reindeer pieces, the kind wrapped in tiny clear lights. He appeared frustrated and a bit lost, hands on his hips, shaking his head. He probably hadn’t assembled Christmas decorations in years, if ever.

The McCalls had always been the type to have tasteful pre-assembled decorations. They did not have a herd of white reindeer who bobbed their heads or tossed their antlers side to side. They had one evergreen wreath on their front door, which was surrounded by red lights twined in a garland with silver-and-gold balls. Very subtle and tasteful.

Wyatt wasn’t subtle, although whenever she’d seen him in person or in a photo, he’d been dressed appropriately. Today he wore a weathered brown leather jacket and leg-hugging faded jeans with heavy work boots that she was surprised he owned. A brisk wind blew through his sun-streaked hair and gave ruddy color to his perpetual tan. He looked good. Too good for her peace of mind. She didn’t want to think of Wyatt as her former boyfriend. That era was long past. He was here to do a job. She already had two jobs to do, as mayor and business owner. No, she was better off thinking of Wyatt only in terms of now.

Toni sipped her hot tea and wondered what type of holiday lawn decorations graced Wyatt’s Carmel, California home. Something modern and stylish, if he had any decorations at all. He was, after all, a bachelor. From what she’d read, he traveled a lot. He still did daredevil stunts at times. He lived a fast, full life.

Her life wasn’t fast, but it was certainly full. Busy. With the new projects going on in town—which she had certainly hoped and worked for—her remodeling company kept her on a demanding schedule. She’d come to the point where she had to make a decision about running for office again. There had been some talk, she’d been told, that a few people thought her two jobs overlapped too much.

She dropped the blinds and shook her head. She wouldn’t think about that right now. Today was Tuesday and she had a city council meeting tonight. During the day she and her crew would be on the site of her first joint venture. She was converting the old hotel across from the train station into six condo units, with retail and public areas as well. The project was ambitious and exciting, funded by Christie Crawford with a little help from Toni’s brother, Leo, who owned the local hardware store.

Toni looked out the window again just in time to see Wyatt throw a deer head to the ground. Oops. He was getting frustrated, and an unhappy Wyatt would not be good for Brody’s Crossing or for himself personally—just in case anyone was watching or listening. She set her mug on the windowsill, grabbed her fleece jacket and ran out the door.



WYATT STARED AT THE REINDEER parts in disgust. A simple task had turned into a morning of frustration because someone hadn’t kept the directions or the original boxes. The five reindeer had been disassembled and stored in a big discarded refrigerator box. He’d already spent an hour untangling their wire antlers from their spiky legs. If he hadn’t promised the community center director that he’d use these specific reindeer, of which she was so proud, he’d chuck the whole lot in the Dumpster and buy some new ones at the Wal-Mart in Graham.

“Need help?”

He whipped around to see another object of his frustration—albeit from a very different source—stop on the other side of the reindeer pile. “Spying on me, Miss Mayor?”

He thought he saw some guilty color in her cheeks, but it might have just been the cool, damp wind whipping through the bare limbs of the cedar elms.

“No, but I did notice you working on the Christmas decorations,” she replied, folding her arms across her chest.

Yep, she’d been spying on him.

“I’d be better off buying new reindeer and hiring a professional to put them together.”

“That wouldn’t be in the spirit of your return to Brody’s Crossing, would it?”

“Maybe not technically, but it would be the fastest way to get the decorations up and running.”

“Fast isn’t always best.”

“You’ve got that right, babe,” he said with a big grin. Sure enough, he’d irritated her.

She rolled her pretty brown eyes and tightened her arms. “I thought you’d grown up in the last fifteen years.”

“I’ve grown a little. Would you like to check me out?”

Toni threw up her hands in defeat. “I was going to offer to help, but now I’m going back to my house. You’re impossible.” She spun around and marched away.

“Hey, what about these reindeer? I could use some help.”

“Get the instructions off the Internet,” she shouted as she crossed the street. “I heard that you’re a whiz at that online stuff.”

Wyatt shook his head and chuckled. Toni might have grown up and he might have moved on, but they still had something buzzing between them, he thought as he went back to sorting reindeer parts. The question was, with such a short stay in Brody’s Crossing, did he want to find out whether the buzz was a good one or if it might be bad for both of them?



WYATT ENTERED THE CAFÉ for lunch with Louisa and Cassie. He still wore his work clothes from the reindeer challenge, which he’d conquered at last. The small herd of critters were now bobbing and swaying away in the yard of the community center.

“I see an empty spot,” Cassie said, guiding them down the aisle between the old-fashioned counter and stools and the red vinyl booths. Wyatt brought up the rear, taking time to look around at the people having lunch. He recognized a lot of them. Some didn’t look any different, but a few of the men had lost their battles with baldness and one or two of the ladies had gained a few pounds since he’d last seen them.

“Why, Wyatt McCall,” a plump middle-aged lady called out as they passed.

He took a moment to realize this was Clarissa Bryant, owner of the beauty shop on the main street in town. His mother didn’t frequent her shop, saying it was a hotbed of gossip. Which meant she thought the ladies were talking about her.

“Hello, Mrs. Bryant. How are you?”

“I’m just fine. It’s good to see you back in town.”

“Glad to be back.”

“Just in time for the holidays. I think we’re going to have the best Christmas yet.”

“I’m not sure how long I’ll be staying, but I’ll be here for the parade on Saturday for sure.”

“I hope you can stay,” she said with a sparkle in her eye, “but only if you keep yourself out of trouble.” She nudged the lady next to her, also middle-aged but not as flamboyant.

“Venetia, do you remember when the Settlers’ Stroll was attacked by wild Indians?” Mrs. Bryant asked the other lady.

“That was something to see,” Venetia replied, “not that I’m looking forward to it again.”

Wyatt smiled and shrugged. “You never know, but I suspect all the wild Indians in the region have been tamed.”

The ladies laughed. “Wyatt, this is Venetia Williams, who works at my shop, and you remember Caroline Brody, of course.”

“Yes, ma’am, I surely do,” he said. She was the mother of his best friend in high school. “How are you, Mrs. Brody?”

“I’m doing just fine, Wyatt. Working part-time in James’s law office.”

“And how is Mr. Brody?”

“He’s doing real well. He had a mild stroke and retired from the hard work, but he’s keeping busy at the ranch. You should come out and see us. James lives over his office with his wife, Sandy, but it would be like old times if everyone could come out to the ranch.”

“Yes, it would. I’ll have to do that. I was going to see James later, or tomorrow maybe. The mayor’s keeping me busy at the community center.”

“We heard,” Clarissa said, giving credence to his mother’s claim that the beauty shop was the place to hear gossip. “Myra Hammer said you were busy putting up those lighted reindeer.”

“Yes, ma’am. They’re just about ready.”

“Don’t forget the lighted Christmas trees,” Venetia reminded him. “You can’t have the reindeer without the white trees.”

“I’ll be sure to ask about those,” he replied. “If you’ll excuse me, I’d better get to our booth before the ladies order without me.”

“Good to see you, Wyatt,” Mrs. Brody said.

As he walked away, he heard Venetia whisper, “Do you think one of those young ladies is his girlfriend?”

“Maybe both,” Mrs. Bryant replied, and then they chuckled.

He should have introduced Cassie and Louisa, but they’d already walked past when Mrs. Bryant spoke to him. Next time, though, he’d make sure everyone knew that they were employees. He didn’t need rampant speculation that he’d brought two young women to town for his amusement while he completed his sentence. Besides, they were both professionals, even if Cassie looked as though she would be scared to death if someone whispered “boo,” and Louisa was so petite a blue norther could blow her away.

“What’s good here?” she asked as he sat down across from them.

He took another look at her thin face. “You really should try the cheese fries,” he said with a smile and picked up a menu.

What a blast from the past. This place had barely changed. Even Mrs. Brody looked the same. She was the mother of his best friend from childhood through high school. He and James had been a pair, getting into more trouble than any of their parents could handle. Well, to be honest, Wyatt reminded himself, he’d gotten James into more trouble than the Brodys could handle. From the comments of the ladies in the booth and the people he’d already talked to on the street, everyone expected him to continue to get into trouble.

Well, this time he wasn’t going to meet their expectations. Despite wanting to provoke Miss Mayor, he was going to be on his best behavior while in town. Decorating the community center for Christmas was a mild sentence, one he could work through as long as he didn’t have to assemble many more mechanical displays. And he wouldn’t be terrorizing the Settlers’ Stroll or streaking past the church or painting the water tower. His old paraglider was long gone, as was his souped-up pickup truck. He was pretty sure his parents had gotten rid of the ATVs and dirt bikes, so really, how much trouble could he get into in one small town in only a week’s time?



“YOU’VE HAD TWO CALLS FROM the national press, one from the Graham Leader and one from the Wichita Falls paper,” Eileen Breslin told Toni as she entered the municipal building. “They all want an update on Wyatt’s community service. And here’s the report from last week’s zoning commission meeting.”

“Thanks,” Toni said as she accepted the multiple pink message slips and a stapled report from the city government receptionist-secretary-information desk. Eileen could also fill in as the police dispatcher, serve on the volunteer fire department and substitute teach if she had to. In addition, she coached her eleven-year-old daughter’s softball team. Toni always felt like a slacker around Eileen.

Toni walked down the hallway toward the mayor’s office. It wasn’t a very big space, since the day-to-day operations of the city were taken care of by the city manager. The mayor was part of the city council, voted on issues coming out of zoning and other departments, developed ideas for possible projects and performed ceremonial duties, mostly.

Ceremonial duties such as introducing Wyatt McCall at the chili dinner on Saturday at the community center. She’d say some nice things about him, he’d say some nice things about the town, and then he’d ride off into the sunset. Again.

She closed the door to the office, blocking out the soft Christmas music playing throughout the building, and spread the message slips in front of her. Everyone wanted to know what was going on with him. Not much, as far as she could tell. He had managed to assemble five reindeer, despite his earlier frustration. Then he’d taken a two-hour lunch. He was probably accustomed to such leisure pursuits, especially now that he was semiretired.

“Retired,” she mumbled. Who retired at age thirty-three? Someone who could afford to, that’s who. But even as she thought about the idea of unlimited leisure time, she knew she wouldn’t retire even if she could. There was too much to do. Too many buildings to renovate, businesses to encourage, clients to work with. She didn’t want to give that up, even if she could somehow magically afford to do so.

She enjoyed being a catalyst in the renewal of Brody’s Crossing. Someone needed to take a lead role in bringing the town back, if not to railroad-oil-cattle-boom days, at least to a realistic standard. The zoning report was about the removal or renewal of dilapidated buildings, although she’d have to excuse herself from votes relating to her renovation projects.

She’d just finished her phone calls when Wyatt’s press secretary—or perhaps she was a public-relations director—showed up.

“Hello, Louisa,” Toni said, hoping she’d remembered the young woman’s name correctly. “What can I do for you?”

“I was wondering if I needed a permit to take photos on the community center property or on a public street. I wanted to get some to update the foundation Web site and perhaps some video that could be used for downloads by the media.”

“Technically, you need a permit, but since Wyatt is serving an unofficial sentence at the community center, there won’t be any problem taking his photo. I can call the director for you and let her know you’re coming by.”

“Well, if you’re sure. I wouldn’t want to cause more trouble for him that would come back to haunt him later.”

“You won’t.” Toni eyed the efficient-looking and -sounding PR person carefully. “You know, despite what Wyatt thinks, I didn’t intentionally tell that reporter about him leaving town before he finished repainting the tower. It was an honest mistake.”

“I’m sure that’s between you and Mr. McCall.”

“Yes, but you might think I’m looking for a way to make trouble for him, because that’s what he thought at first. Perhaps he still does. I’m not trying to hurt his reputation or bring up the past. Believe me, I’d rather he only visited town to see his folks. His arrival here is causing quite a stir.”

Louisa shrugged. “He’s a draw wherever he goes.”

“I’m sure that’s true. We see photos of him at many high-profile events.” People who felt that Toni might be interested in knowing what her former boyfriend was up to often showed her entertainment and business news stories and photos of him. She always smiled and said, “Isn’t that nice,” or some such remark, and went on with her day. If she ever showed the least bit of interest in him, someone might interpret that as an “attraction,” which she could never acknowledge. Her feelings for Wyatt were absolutely private.

“If you’d be more comfortable, we can rush through a permit. However, I’ll be glad to make that call and you can take your photos whenever the light is right or Wyatt starts working again.”

“Oh, he’s there now. We had lunch—a working lunch, actually—and then he went back to the community center.”

“That’s fine. I’m not keeping track of him that closely. As I said, I just want him to finish his task and then Brody’s Crossing will get on with Christmas.”

“He’s doing his best. He’s serious about this foundation. I’m sure he’s anxious to get back to California.”

I sure hope so. He definitely wouldn’t be leaving before the chili dinner on Saturday evening, though. “Please, let me know if you need anything else,” she told Louisa, hoping the woman would take the hint and leave so they wouldn’t have to keep talking about Wyatt. If there was one thing that could spoil her holiday spirit, it was constant reminders that she’d been dumped by her now-billionaire boyfriend.



AFTER WORKING AT THE COMMUNITY center for another few hours, setting up white spiral Christmas trees and big lighted boxes trimmed with bows, Wyatt decided to call it a day. He needed to go see his parents. They’d wanted him to come out last night, but he’d put them off. He’d needed to get settled, he’d told them, which apparently had sounded reasonable. Tonight, he had no excuse. With a sigh, he plugged in the extension cords and watched the Christmas display light up the cloudy afternoon. Everything seemed to be working properly.

He looked across the street at Toni’s neat cottage-style house. The frame siding and roof looked new, or at least well kept. She’d come out just a little earlier and swept the porch and walkway, looking at him occasionally. He knew because he’d been looking at her. She’d finished in what was probably record time and retreated inside. She hadn’t spoken to him since this morning.

He rattled her. Good. She’d rattled him yesterday, with her calm demeanor and classic beauty. She’d grown into a woman in the years he’d been gone, but she still had a bit of the spunky girl he’d known—and at one time, loved—inside.

Good thing they hadn’t stayed together, he thought as he gathered up the few tools he’d used. Or gotten married, which was where they were headed if he hadn’t left town when he had. Marriage would have ruined their relationship a little more slowly than his abrupt departure, but just as surely.

No, he’d done the right thing in leaving for Stanford as soon as he graduated from B.C.H.S. He knew Toni didn’t understand, but better she thought he was a jerk than begin thinking about “the future.” That place defined by white wedding gowns, giggling bridesmaids, two-point-three adorable children and a three-bedroom house near Mom and Dad. The reality was more like credit card bills, snotty noses, dirty diapers and family feuds.

He’d actually done Toni a favor by running off, he thought as he placed the tool kit inside the community center storage closet. She’d gone to college not so far from home, started her own business and been elected Brody’s Crossing’s first female mayor since the early 1900s. Back then, the widow of a popular but crooked mayor who’d been shot in front of what was now the Burger Barn had taken over her husband’s position. Life was considerably more civilized now.

Wyatt stretched the kinks from his back and walked to the Hummer. He pulled his cell phone from his jacket and called his parents. There had been a time when calling in advance was absolutely essential. Now, it was more of a courtesy.

“Hey, Mom. I’m headed your way. Can I bring anything?” And by that, he meant from the grocery, but he didn’t make any snarky comments like he used to when he was younger and his mother went to Graham or farther to get what she really wanted.

“A half gallon of milk,” he repeated back to her. “Anything else?”

“No, we’re fine,” she answered.

“I’ll be there soon.” With another sigh, Wyatt slid behind the wheel. He shouldn’t have asked. Now he’d have to stop by Casale’s Grocery, unless he wanted to go way out of his way to the minimart at the gas station outside of town. Hopefully, he wouldn’t see Mrs. Casale. He assumed she still didn’t like him much. Good thing she’d never be his mother-in-law. Talk about awkward situations!

As soon as he entered the grocery store, he felt as if everyone was watching him. And they were. He was the only man around. There were mothers with school-age children and grandmothers and pregnant ladies. He recognized a few of the older women as he headed through the produce section toward the dairy case.

“Wyatt McCall! Why, I’d heard you were back. What are you up to this time?”

“Just setting up some Christmas decorations at the community center. How are you, Mrs. Hammer?”

“I’ve got arthritis in my knees and I just got over a nasty sinus infection. Why are you setting up those decorations? You could hire someone to do that.”

Leave it to Bud Hammer’s wife to get straight to the point. He remembered Bud and Myra as being very contentious. “You know, I did a lot of crazy things when I was younger. It’s time that I did something nice for Brody’s Crossing, don’t you think?”

“Well, that might be true, but I don’t think setting up that yard art really cuts it. I heard you had more money than Bill Gates.”

Wyatt laughed. “Hardly. But I do have enough to get by.”

Mrs. Hammer snorted. “That’s why you’re putting up those plastic reindeer from Wal-Mart. Doesn’t make a lick of sense to me.” She shook her head and put a bag of bargain-priced bananas into her cart. “Just don’t you mess up the chili supper, Wyatt McCall. That’s a tradition.”

“I’m looking forward to having a nice dinner. I promise I won’t talk too long, either. Now, I need to get some milk for my mother. You take care, Mrs. Hammer.”

“Oh, I will. You tell you parents hello for me and don’t forget—behave yourself, young man.”

Wyatt chuckled as he strode quickly to the dairy case. Young man. He was thirty-three, not eighteen. But some folks wouldn’t acknowledge that, he knew. Some folks wouldn’t forget his past. He’d thought he could quickly make amends by fulfilling the sentence the city had decided upon, but maybe it wasn’t enough. The fact that he really was doing the work himself hadn’t impressed Myra Hammer, so maybe it wouldn’t fly with the rest of the town, either.

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!”

His expression changed from frustration to devilment in an instant. “You’re so sexy when you’re mad,” he said, pulling her the rest of the way across the desk and locking his mouth over hers.

She was so startled that she couldn’t respond, couldn’t think, for a moment. This was Wyatt, kissing her. She tried to push him away, but she was off balance and only managed to grab his shirt. She tried to protest, to tell him to stop, but the moment her lips parted he pushed his tongue into her mouth and deepened the kiss.

Her head swimming, she moaned and resisted, torn between breaking free and hauling him across the desk to have her way with him, right on top of her monthly planner.

“Um, Mr. McCall?”

Cassie’s voice cut through the tension in the office, a strident sound in contrast to Toni’s heavy breathing. Wyatt’s hands tightened on Toni’s arms and she couldn’t move.

“We have an appointment with the reporter and photographer from the Graham newspaper. Er, at the community center. Now.”

Breathing hard, Toni stared at Wyatt. He looked nearly as stunned as she felt. Finally, he released her arms and stepped back. She practically collapsed into her desk chair.

“I guess we’d better continue our conversation later,” he said, pulling his flannel shirt closed and buttoning it low, near his waist. Only then did Toni realize he was concealing the effect of their sudden kiss from Cassie’s eyes.

Toni felt her cheeks heat as her embarrassment grew. Wyatt had done it again! Made her revert to her teen years, seem silly and weak in front of someone else. She was sure Cassie believed that the kiss was mutual.

“There’s nothing to talk about. Nothing of consequence, anyway.”

“We’ll see about that, babe.”

“Don’t call me that!”

He grinned, turned and strode out of the door. Cassie looked back for just a minute, appearing distressed, and mouthed, “Sorry.” Then she hurried after Wyatt. Toni hoped Cassie would immediately erase the image of her boss kissing the mayor from her memory.

Toni sank back into her chair. For a moment, she had to admit, she had kissed him back. But only for a moment, and only because she was surprised.

And because this was Wyatt, the only person who ever made me crazy, she thought grudgingly.

Shaking her head to clear the feel and smell of him, the memories of the hundreds of kisses they’d shared, she sat up straight and braced her hands on her desk. She had to get back to work. She had things to accomplish today and every day.

If she kept herself busy enough, perhaps she wouldn’t think of Wyatt much at all. Not more than once an hour, if she was lucky.

And she wouldn’t see him again for hours. She’d get through the dinner party tomorrow night, and then maybe she wouldn’t see him until it was time for him to leave town again. He could get his publicity photos for the local paper, which would no doubt be picked up by the national press, and he’d forget all about hiring a design firm to turn the community center lawn into a holiday extravaganza.



“THE SCOUTS HAVE DONE a wonderful thing for Brody’s Crossing by adding these animated reindeer and bright trees to the community center grounds. I hope to expand on their generosity this year,” Wyatt told the female reporter, who was probably a few years older than his thirty-three.

“What do you have in mind?”

He grinned and winked at her. “It’s a surprise. Come back Saturday night and you’ll see.”

“We’ll do that, Mr. McCall.” She smiled and turned off the recorder, then looked up again. “If we could take a few photos of you by the display, that would be great. I think the light’s about perfect now.”

He posed with his hand on the reindeer, then stood with arms folded among the lighted spiral trees, and finally he hunkered down next to the colorful gift boxes. Thankfully, time and the cool temperature had simmered him down enough so that he could now unbutton his flannel shirt without showing the world that Miss Mayor had given him a flagpole of an erection.

Even before he’d kissed her, he’d become so aroused that all he wanted to do was drag her off—preferably someplace close and private—and make love to her until they were both sated. He wasn’t sure how long that would take, since they’d been apart for fifteen years, but he was willing to give it a good try.

Considering her testy mood and his building impatience, he might even approach the task as a public service. Much more enjoyable than assembling Christmas lawn ornaments.

“Thank you, Mr. McCall,” the photographer said, snapping Wyatt’s attention back to the present.

“Sure, no problem,” he replied with another grin. “You just call my public-relations director here if you need anything else.” The reporter smiled, appeared a little rattled and waved as she and the photographer walked back to her white car with its magnetic sign on the side.

Wyatt sighed as he and Louisa stood in the late-afternoon gloom. Clouds had come in, which had allowed the lighted decorations to really show up for the photographs. Or at least, he hoped so. He didn’t want to have to do this again until the final display was ready.

He heard the door to the Hummer slam and watched Cassie walk over, her phone and notepad clutched to her body.

“I found a designer who has decorations!” she said, almost glowing as she stopped beside them. “Someone ordered them to go in front of his business, but then he went broke and the designer was stuck with a large number of extra outdoor decorations. He’s sending photos and a contract to my e-mail.”

“That’s great. When can he be here?”

“Right away, he said. Everyone else had their installations set up before Thanksgiving.”

“Excellent. The parade is Saturday. I want the town to look spectacular by that night.”

“That only gives him two days.”

Wyatt looked at his watch. “Two and a half if he gets loaded right away.” Despite what Toni thought, he was going to get this done and make sure the Scout troops were honored. This would be the best damn Christmas ever in Brody’s Crossing, even if he had to spend a fortune and work his ass off to get it done.

Then he could leave knowing he’d accomplished what no one else had done for the town, and everyone would be happy.

Maybe not satisfied in every sense of the word, but happy. Glad that Wild Wyatt McCall had come to town and left it intact. No big incidents. Nothing embarrassing. Just some nice Christmas decorations and smiles all around.

Yep, that’s what he was going to do.




Chapter Four


Toni looked out her front windows on Thursday morning to see a police car, two large panel trucks, a half-dozen pickups and at least a dozen people in front of the community center. Onlookers stood on the sidewalks, sipping their morning coffee and gazing at the activity. Off to the side, Wyatt conferred with Chief Montoya and community center director, Martha Chase. She was, as usual, animated and energetic about whatever they were discussing. As Toni watched, more citizens joined the onlookers. Soon they would have a sizable crowd lining Elm Street.

“This doesn’t look good,” Toni whispered as she let the curtain fall. She rushed to her bedroom and pulled on jeans and an old Dallas Stars sweatshirt, stuffed her feet into shoes and headed for the front door.

She completed a fast walk across the street in seconds, eavesdropping on the conversation as she went. Wyatt was up to something, that was for sure.

“This could be a safety issue,” Chief Montoya was saying, pointing to tall poles that circled the wooded lawn of the center. Apparently they were erecting some type of fence.

“If you’re worried, I’ll provide security,” Wyatt said.

“We want the surprise factor!” Martha insisted.

“What’s going on?” Toni asked, slightly out of breath as she approached the group.

“Chief Montoya is being unreasonable,” Martha said to Toni. “Mr. McCall has arranged for a truly spectacular Christmas display as a surprise to the town, but for some reason the police want to stop us.”

“I’m not trying to stop the display. Just do it out in the open, where we can protect the citizens and also the decorations. If everything is concealed, we can’t see if anyone breaks in to steal or damage the items, whatever they are.”

“Then it won’t be a surprise!” Martha said, throwing up her arms. She was obviously strongly on Wyatt’s side. No shocker there. He could sweet-talk anyone, from toddler to grandmother, as long as the person was female.

“Are you building a fence?” Toni asked Wyatt.

“Yes, for privacy, just until the chili supper.” The annual event, usually held the next weekend, was taking place on Saturday evening in honor of Wyatt’s return to town. “I’d like for everyone to get their first glimpse as they arrive at the center. Besides, the unveiling should increase attendance and make more money for the food bank and clothing closet.”

He had a point. The local charities raised much of their annual budget and received useful merchandise through the chili supper proceeds and donations. “Can you provide security?”

Wyatt shrugged. “Sure. I’m certain we can hire some off-duty police from Brody’s Crossing or Graham, or even recruit some Young County deputies. Everyone needs extra cash at Christmastime, right?”

Another good point. “Chief, would that be acceptable to you?”

“As long as the area is patrolled. We can send cars by, but if the fence is opaque, as Mr. McCall has said, we can’t see what’s going on inside without doing a search. And also from what he’s said, there will be some pretty big items there, which perps could hide behind.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, it’s a Christmas display!” Martha exclaimed. “Who in this town is going to try to harm it or steal it or whatever?”

Everyone except Martha turned to look at Wyatt. This type of situation was just the sort of thing that would have tempted him when he was around fourteen.

“Don’t look at me. I’m all grown up and responsible now. Are there any young versions of me running around town these days?”

“No, thank God,” Toni said.

Wyatt narrowed his eyes and frowned at her.

“An off-duty officer or even a rent-a-cop would be fine with me,” Chief Montoya said. “We’ll do drive-bys also.”

“Okay, then. We need to get back to work,” Wyatt stated. He waved at two men who were waiting by the panel trucks. “Go ahead with the fencing.”

“I’m sure this will work out just fine,” Toni told Martha. “We have to be careful of anything that will be on public display.”

“I just want the citizens to have something spectacular—not that the reindeer and such aren’t wonderful, too. Mr. McCall has promised a winter wonderland, and I can’t wait to see the result.” She hugged her arms over her heavy sweater. “Come in for some coffee or tea before you leave if you’d like,” she told Wyatt, then turned and went back into the building.

“So,” Toni said, folding her arms on her chest against the chill, and also because she was slightly miffed at Wyatt’s secrecy. Especially after their conversation yesterday. And what happened while they were talking. “What do you have planned?”

“It’s a secret,” he said, smiling down at her. “You’ll have to wait for the unveiling just like everyone else.”





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