“I invited the boys,” Henry said, referring to her sons. “But Levi said he’s going to be out of town with that model of his.”
Darn her firstborn and his quick thinking. She’d bet he hadn’t had plans before the invitation.
“Her name is Laura,” Maria said, referring to Levi’s girlfriend. Her boys were getting to the age where, as her father-in-law had said, they were pairing up like there was an ark parked on Main Street and the rain had started. Levi and Myles were both in new, committed relationships, and she had a feeling that Ryan, her youngest, was getting pretty cozy with the ranch’s new neighbor, Carly Clarke.
She hoped her boys stayed the course and didn’t break any hearts, like men on both sides of the family had a tendency to do. Both Roy and her father had been heartbreakers, and she hoped that wherever her second-born son, Cole, was at the moment, he was being good to women’s hearts.
Maria shook her head, trying to find a happier mood. This would be the first Christmas where she’d be sharing her boys not only with their girlfriends and their families, but with Sophia, too.
How was any of that supposed to work?
“So? Are you coming?” Henry demanded. “I need to know how many people to expect and I don’t have time for wishy-washy replies. The party’s in three days.”
“No, I’m not, thank you,” Maria said, her tone more brusque than she’d intended.
Henry stilled, then turned to face her. “After all I’ve done for your library, and you can’t even come to my Christmas party?”
Maria inhaled slowly, struggling for calm. Henry hadn’t done much for the town library last month. It had been her son Myles and his girlfriend, Karen, who had done the heavy lifting to save the building. Meanwhile, Henry had practically thrown a barricade in front of their plans.
“I’m sorry. I’ll be away,” she told him, as a plan formed in her mind. An old friend, Kittim Lane, had been trying to convince her to visit her in Indigo Bay, South Carolina. She was busy helping with an upcoming fundraiser for the coastal town’s animal shelter, and had suggested Maria come let her hair down at the gala. She’d said no, due to the timing of the gala, as her boys’ team would be playing in the Texas football state championship game the day prior, but maybe Kittim needed some help leading up to the fundraiser.
Either way, getting away might be exactly what she needed right now. And not just because she’d avoid facing Roy at a million Christmas parties they used to attend together.
“Where are you going?” Henry demanded.
“Indigo Bay.” The prospect of spending time near the ocean while visiting Kit lifted her spirits in a way nothing else had recently. She and Roy used to take the kids to Indigo Bay each summer to see a cousin on Roy’s side of the family, play in the waves and take a break from the Texas heat and life on the ranch. It had been good for them all, and she hadn’t been back in years—not since his cousin Danny, who took over the ranch during their vacation—had passed away.
“To visit the Wylders?” His expression had grown stormy.
“My friend Kittim Lane still lives there.”
“You know Roy is happily remarried.”
“And you know my life is officially none of your business.” Maria said, standing up. She resented the implication she was going to Indigo Bay to stir something up between Sophia and Roy by visiting Roy’s family. As far as she was concerned, Sophia could keep Roy.
Fiona arrived with the peppermint tea, her jaw dropping as she overheard Maria’s words.
“Put it on my tab, please.”
Fiona nodded quickly, but Maria knew the untouched tea would never show up on her running tally.
“Merry Christmas,” Maria said softly. She strode to the door, hoping her invitation to Indigo Bay was still open.
“Hang on. I want to get a muffin,” Maria said, reaching for her son Brant’s arm as he drove past the Longhorn Diner.
“They have muffins at the airport,” he protested, checking his watch. With a frown, he made a U-turn in the middle of Main Street and parked in front of the diner.
“The diner has the best bran muffins.” If she was going to sit on a plane for over four hours, she wanted something good to snack on.
“Better than yours?”
“Yes, and Fiona won’t share their recipe. They’re that perfect blend. Not so dry you feel like you’re eating sawdust,” she said, undoing her seat belt, “and not so moist it’s oily.”
“You make bran muffins sound so appealing.”
“It’s a skill.” She grinned and slipped out of his fully equipped veterinarian pickup truck.
“Like dodging Uncle Henry’s Christmas party. How did everyone get out of going except me?”
“It never occurred to you because you’re the best one out of all of us.” Due to her week-long Indigo Bay trip, she would miss tonight’s party. Maria gestured toward the restaurant. “Want anything?”
“Nope, I’m good, thanks.” Brant held up his insulated travel mug and took a sip of coffee. April MacFarlane had a matching one, and Maria glanced at her son. April had grown up along with the boys, while her dad had worked as their ranch hand. April was a Wylder as far as the family was concerned, and they were all there for her now as she was going through a divorce.
Her marriage had been on the rocks practically from the moment she and Heath had uttered “I do.” But sometimes Maria wondered if Brant had had anything to do with its rockiness. He was a good friend to April, and as his mother, Maria was proud of him and trusted him to do the right thing. Yet she couldn’t help but wonder if some of April’s problems had to do with Brant always being around to support her and be the friend her husband couldn’t seem to be.
Shaking off those thoughts, Maria hurried into the diner, then tracked down Fiona at the back counter.
“You’re off?” her friend asked, looking up with a smile. She shifted, sending the white fringe on her pink Western blouse swinging.
“Yes. And I need a muffin to go.”
“You got it. Anything else?” Fiona handed her an already-wrapped bran muffin. “Pack your sunscreen?”
“And a hat.”
“Where are you going?” asked a familiar, smooth male voice, sending tremors down Maria’s spine.
She ran her fingers through the hair at the nape of her neck, ensuring tendrils hadn’t escaped the loose bun. She fought the smile that always seemed to appear when Clint Walker was around.
Maria turned to face him. He was fit for being fifty-nine, his shoulders broad and strong. No doubt those muscles came from having to work rusted old bolts off the wrecks people called vehicles out here in Texas Hill Country.
“Indigo Bay. Kittim Lane asked me to come help with a fundraiser they’re putting on for a local animal shelter.”
“Barks and Bows?”
“How do you know?” she asked in surprise, handing Fiona her debit card. “Can I clear my tab, too, please?”
“Not coming back for a while?” her friend teased.
Clint took a more careful look at Maria, who blushed and said, “What?” She felt inexplicably guilty. “I clear it every week.”