Chapter Three
“Good Lord,” Mia said when they entered the kitchen. “How many people are eating lunch?”
Wyatt looked at the array of bread, cold cuts, cheese, condiments, fruit salad, potato salad, macaroni salad, coffee, iced tea and several kinds of chips spread out on the kitchen table and smiled, seeing it through her eyes. “You, me, Dylan and at least two or three of the ranch hands. Possibly more. Why?”
“There’s so much.”
“This is nothing. Wait until you see the desserts.”
“Does Glory feed you like this every day?”
“No, sometimes there’s more.” He shrugged. “Guys working on a ranch tend to eat a lot. We never know exactly how many will show up, either. Some days Glory makes a hot meal for lunch and we have the leftovers for dinner. Glory worries that we’ll fade away, especially Dylan.”
“Damn, it’s as cold as a well-digger’s ass out there,” his youngest brother said, coming in from the mudroom. He stopped short when he saw Mia. “Hello, you must be Mia.” He held out a hand.
“And you must be Dylan,” she said, shaking hands. “I’m happy to meet you. Wyatt’s told me a lot about you.”
“Don’t believe a word of it,” Dylan said. “Do you ride, Mia?”
“I used to but I haven’t in a long time.”
“I have just the horse for you. I can—”
“No, you can’t,” Wyatt said. “If Mia wants to ride, I’ll take her. Back off, cowboy.”
Unabashed, his brother smiled and told her, “If you get sick of him, I’m always here.” He started putting together his sandwich.
Wyatt knew he was kidding, but it still annoyed the snot out of him. Dylan had a way with women and Wyatt discovered he was feeling a little possessive of Mia. Not that he had a right to, but that could always change. And he meant to do what he could to change it. The more distance he had from it, the more their night together took on a deeper meaning than simply one friend comforting another.
Some of the ranch hands came in and Wyatt introduced Mia to everyone. Watching the guys flirt and laugh with Mia had him feeling that twinge of jealousy again. Damn it. Mia was being her usual friendly self, and the boys were hanging on every word. He couldn’t fault anyone. They were all just having fun, but it occurred to him he might need to explain the situation to the men. Especially Connor, who was fairly new to the ranch and a real ladies’ man from what Wyatt had heard.
As Glory returned to the kitchen, they finished their sandwiches and everyone took their plates over to the sink. Glory wouldn’t let them use paper plates. Wyatt wasn’t ever sure if that was because she was concerned over the environment, or because she had strong ideas of the proper way to serve food in her kitchen and paper plates played no part in that. Glory set out chocolate chip cookies, an apple pie and a chocolate cake on the kitchen counter and told them to dig in.
Wyatt went last, noticing irritably that Connor had taken his place beside Mia and whatever he was saying had her laughing. Damn, she was pretty when she laughed. And Connor was getting on his last nerve.
“Oh, honey, you have it bad, don’t you?” Glory asked him.
“Have what bad?” He settled on pie and put a large slice on his plate.
She laughed. “You have it bad for Mia, of course. Don’t think I haven’t seen you glaring a hole through Connor. Everyone else has too. Especially Connor.”
Wyatt started to argue, then thought better of it and shrugged. “I wasn’t glaring. I just hope he’s not boring Mia.”
Glory gave a whoop of laughter that had everyone staring at them. Wyatt gave her the evil eye, which only made her laugh harder.
“She doesn’t look a bit bored to me.” Glory patted his hand. “Don’t you worry. Connor’s one of those who likes to get under your skin. He doesn’t mean anything by it.”
“He’d better not,” Wyatt muttered as Glory moved away.
After lunch, Wyatt took Mia out to a Christmas tree farm owned by some friends of his. The Scott brothers’ farm was a beautiful place, with acres of Christmas trees planted in the snow, as well as a huge building that held pre-cut trees and trees growing in huge pots.
“I’ve never been to a Christmas tree farm,” Mia said. “Are you really going to cut your own tree?”
“We’re going to cut our own tree,” Wyatt said. “Here’s Lane now.”
A dark-haired, handsome man driving a horse-drawn sleigh pulled up to the sales barn. The two horses were big, beautiful draught horses, not Clydesdales or Percherons, but big sturdy animals similar to them.
“Good to see you, Lane,” Wyatt said, shaking hands. “This is Mia Watson.”
“Welcome to Marietta, Mia. Is this your first time here?” The man gave her a charming smile as she climbed into the front seat with Wyatt following.
“First time to Marietta and first time to a Christmas tree farm,” she said.
“You’ll have fun then. Wyatt, why don’t you go get Mia some hot chocolate.”
Wyatt grinned and got out, heading toward a tent with a hot chocolate and donuts sign out front. Mia started to tell him she was too full to drink it, but it was really cold out and something hot sounded good.
“When did you get in?” Lane asked her.
“This morning.” She wished she’d brought her sketchbook. The place was winter fairyland beautiful. Snow was falling lightly on top of the foot or so already on the ground. “You’re our first stop.”
“You made a good choice,” he said, smiling. “So, city boy, what made you decide you wanted a tree after all?” Lane asked Wyatt when he returned.
“Well, soldier boy, I thought Mia here might like one.” Handing Mia a styrofoam cup, he added, “Lane is a veteran of the war in Afghanistan.”
“Thank you for your service,” Mia said. Lane smiled again, but Mia noticed a flicker of something—sorrow, maybe—in his eyes. “Don’t you usually have a tree, Wyatt?”
“This is the first Christmas I’ve been in Marietta in a long time. Dylan almost always goes to Jack’s house so he doesn’t bother with a tree or decorations.”
“I’m touched but you didn’t need to get one just for me.”
“Sure he did,” Lane said. “Don’t try to talk him out of a sale, Mia.”
She laughed. “Sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“We’re not very busy,” Lane said. “Want to take a ride around the farm?”
“I’d love to. Are you in a hurry, Wyatt?”
“Not a bit. Let me get a blanket from the back.” He reached behind her to grab a blanket, wrapped it around her, then kept his arm there as he and Lane pointed out wildlife and types of trees and other points of interest.
She wondered again what exactly was going on with Wyatt. He was treating her like a girlfriend, rather than a friend. She thought about that kiss in the truck again. Her stomach fluttered. Where’s your common sense? Where’s your sense of self-protection?
Hell. She’d never had any where Wyatt was concerned.
He’d told his brother to back off when Dylan had offered to find her a horse to ride. And finally, at lunch she’d caught him glaring at Connor at least a couple of times. Wishful thinking. But if he kept it up they were definitely having a talk.
Part of her, the part that was in love with him, would be ecstatic if he wanted more with her. Her cynical part thought he wasn’t over Loretta and she’d be nothing more than an interlude if they did get together. And of course, the biggie, the secret she’d kept from him. Her sin, the lie of omission.
Lane drove back to the area marked for the trees to choose from and dropped them off, promising to come back in half an hour. At first Mia followed Wyatt, but she decided they’d be more likely to find what they wanted if they split up. Sometime later she found the perfect tree.
“Wyatt,” she yelled. “Come see.” She walked around to the back and saw a huge hole where there should have been branches.
Wyatt looked at the front of the tree, then started to go around but Mia stopped him.
“It’s a little sparse in the back, but the front and sides are great.”
“That shouldn’t be a—” Wyatt continued on around, halting when he got to the back. “Sparse? Mia, there’s a hole you could drive a truck through.”
“It’s not that big. Can’t we put it in a corner where the back won’t show?”
Looking perplexed, he tugged on his baseball cap. “I guess so. Are you sure this is the one you want? We can look around more, you know.”
“This is the one,” she said firmly.
Lane came to pick them just as Wyatt finished cutting the tree. He climbed out of the sleigh to help Wyatt wrestle the tree onto the back end and tie it down. “You realize there’s a big hole on one side, right?”
“I’m not blind,” Wyatt said. “Mia picked it out. Don’t ask me why.”
“It’s missing a few limbs. Big deal. It’s still a beautiful tree.”
Both men stared at her, then Lane burst out laughing. “Yes, it is, Mia. You’re exactly right.”
“Did I say something wrong?”
Wyatt exchanged a look with Lane. “Not wrong. Lane’s a double amputee.”
“Oh, my God, I had no idea,” she said, mortified. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” Lane said. “I thought it was funny. Besides, it is a beautiful tree.”
She gave Wyatt a dirty look and mouthed, “You are so dead,” before getting in the sleigh. Wyatt started to put his arm around her but she jammed her elbow into his stomach, hard. He gave a little grunt, then took the hint and dropped his arm. Pointedly ignoring him, she talked to Lane on the trip back. Though she was curious she didn’t ask him how he lost his legs, but he obviously figured out she wanted to know.
“I stepped on a land mine in Afghanistan.”
“I thought it might have happened there. I’m so sorry.”
“It happens,” he said matter-of-factly. “I’m alive and I have good prosthetics. I’m one of the lucky ones.”
After the tree was paid for, bundled with netting and tied to the roof of the SUV they started back to the Gallagher ranch. “Thanks a lot, Wyatt.”
“You’re welcome?”
“I’m not talking about the trip to the tree farm. I enjoyed that. But why in the hell didn’t you tell me about Lane? I felt like a fool.”
“What was I supposed to do? Say, oh, by the way, if you see Lane out there, he’s a double amputee? Besides, I didn’t even think about it.”
“You should have warned me.”
“Don’t worry about it. Lane thought it was funny.”
“I know he did. But I still think it bothers him more than he lets on.”
“Lane is one of the most well-adjusted people I know.”
“Yes, he seems very well-adjusted, but that doesn’t mean losing his legs doesn’t still bother him.”
People often held their deepest sorrows close. She should know. She’d yet to tell Wyatt about her pregnancy. Or that she’d miscarried her child. Her child, and his.