 The Brands Who Came for Christmas
Reissue
November 2008
ISBN 978-0-373-19931-0
Silhouette Intimate Moments #1039
November 2000
ISBN 0-373-27109-3
Out of print
2001 RITA®
Finalist for Best Long Contemporary
Maya Brand was a virgin at the ripe old age of
twenty-eight -- until the night he came to town. But by
morning her stranger was gone and Maya was pregnant --
with twins! Nearly nine months later, Caleb Montgomery
mysteriously reappeared, ready to form a family. But
Maya had questions that Caleb wasn't willing to
answer... just yet.
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Excerpt
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All
rights reserved.
April Fools' Day, 2000
Maya had always been of two minds about
working at the saloon. Of course, it wasn't
a five-star restaurant, or even a
respectable club. It was where the ordinary
folk liked to come to unwind. You would
never see the church ladies or the PTA moms
on the leather bar stools munching pretzels
and sipping beer at the OK Corral. But they
didn't have to see Maya waiting tables to
know she worked there. It was a small town.
Everyone in Big Falls knew she was a
barmaid.
And itprobably didn't do her efforts at
becoming respectable much good at all. But
the thing was, this was the family business.
It put food on the table. And it was an
honest business, and one her mother had
worked hard to make successful. It meant a
lot to Vidalia Brand. And respectability or
no, family came first with Maya. Always had.
That was the way she'd been raised.
So she helped out at the OK Corral, just
as her sisters did.
Well, all except for Edie. Edie was off
in L.A. chasing her own dreams. And
respectability didn't seem to be too high on
her list.
Anyway, April Fools' night started out
like any other Saturday night at the Corral.
Kara helped in the kitchen, where her
frequent accidents were heard but not seen.
Selene waited tables, so long as no meat
dishes were ordered. Mel tended bar and
served as unofficial bouncer. And Maya did
most of the cooking, and gave line dancing
lessons, as she did every Tuesday and
Saturday.
In fact, the only thing that truly set
this particular Saturday night apart from
any other was that it was Maya's last
Saturday as a twenty-eight-year-old woman.
On Sunday, she would turn twenty-nine. And
twenty-nine was only twelve months away from
thirty. And she was still single, still
alone. Still an outcast struggling to make
herself acceptable. Still living with her
mother and working at the Corral. Still…
everything she didn't want to be. Still a
virgin.
So she was depressed and moody, and she'd
sneaked a couple of beers tonight, which was
totally unlike her. As a result, she was
just the slightest bit off the bubble, as
her mother would have put it, as she walked
out of the kitchen. Wiping her hands on her
apron, she strained her eyes to adjust to
the dimmer light in the bar. Dark hardwood
walls and floor, gleaming mahogany bar,
sound system turned down low for the moment.
Just enough to create a soothing twang
underlying the constant clink of ice and
glasses, the thud of frosted mugs on the
bar, and the low murmur of working men in
conversation. The light fixtures were small
wagon wheels suspended over every table, a
bigger one way up in the rafters dead
center. Dimmer switches were essential, of
course. The only time the lights got turned
up to high beam was when they closed the
doors to clean up. The row of ceiling fans
over the bar whirred softly and tousled her
hair when she walked underneath them.
And then she looked up.
And he was there.
He'd just come through the batwing doors
from the street outside. He stopped just
inside them, and he looked around as if it
were his first time at the Corral. And as
Maya looked him over, she thought he seemed
just about as depressed and moody as she
was.
"Now that looks like a cowboy who's been
rode hard and put away wet one too many
times," Vidalia said near her ear.
Maya started. She hadn't even heard her
mother come up beside her. And though she
tried to send her a disapproving glance for
her choice of words, she found it tough to
take her eyes off the man. "Who is he?" she
asked. "I don't recognize him."
Vidalia shrugged. "I don't, either."
He wasn't tall, but he wasn't short,
either. Not reed thin or overweight or
bursting with muscle. Just an average build.
He had dark hair under a battered brown
cowboy hat that bore no brand name or
markings she could detect. His jeans were
faded. His denim shirt unsnapped, untucked
and hanging open over a black T-shirt with a
single pocket. Even his boots were scuffed
and dusty. But none of that was what made
her so unable to look away. It was something
about his face. His eyes, scanning the bar
as if he were looking for something,
someone… there was a quiet sorrow about
those eyes. A loneliness. A lost look about
the man… and it touched off that nurturing
instinct of hers from the moment she saw it.
She walked closer without even knowing
she was doing it, and those lonely eyes fell
on her. Blue. They were deep blue. So blue
she could see that vivid color even in this
low lighting. His lips curved up in a fake
smile of greeting, and she forced hers to do
the same. But the smile didn't reach his
eyes. They still looked as sad as the eyes
of a motherless pup as they latched on to
hers as if she were his last hope.
"Can I help you with something?" she
asked him at last.
He shrugged. "Can I get a beer?" he
asked.
"Well now, this is a saloon." She
took his arm for some reason. Kind of the
way a mother would take hold of a lost child
to lead him home. "Mister, your shirt's wet
through."
"That's because it's raining outside."
"Yes, but when it's raining outside, most
people stay inside." She took him to a table
near the fireplace. It was in the area where
the line dancing lessons would be starting
up in a short while, but the man was chilled
to the bone. He had to be.
He took the seat she showed him and
looked at her sheepishly. "I had a flat on
my pickup. Had to change the tire in the
rain."
"I'd have let it sit there until it let
up."
"I hear it hasn't let up in days."
"I suppose you have a point." She
signaled Selene, who came right over. "Hot
cocoa. Bring a whole pot."
"Um, I asked for a beer."
"Beer will only make you colder. You want
to catch your death?"
He blinked up at her, then shrugged in
surrender.
"And see if you can find a dry shirt
kicking around, will you, Selene?" Maya
added.
Selene nodded, tilting her head as she
examined the stranger. Of them all, she was
the most strikingly different. A throwback
to their father's family, Maya supposed. Her
hair was long, lustrous, perfectly straight
and silvery blond. Her eyes were palest
blue, so they, too, often seemed silver.
They seemed silver now, as she narrowed them
on the man.
"You new in town?" Selene asked him.
"Just passing through," he told her.
Selene's gaze slid from his face, to her
sister's. "That's odd. I got the feeling you
were here to stay." She shrugged, tipping
her head sideways, and said, "Oh, well," as
she turned to hurry away.
The stranger sent Maya a questioning
glance.
"This month she's convinced she has ESP,"
she explained. "Last month she was exploring
her past lives in Atlantis."
He grinned widely. "Your sister?" he
asked.
"How'd you guess?"
"There's a resemblance."
Maya smiled back at him, feeling warm all
over just from the light in his eyes. "I'll
take that as a compliment."
"You were meant to."
There was something in his eyes that made
her heart quiver. She cleared her throat,
searched for something to say, and came up
with the lamest line in any bar in any town
ever. "So, where are you from?"
His smile died. All at once, just like
that. He lowered his eyes. Cleared his
throat. "Umm…a long ways from here. You
wouldn't know it."
"Try me." She wasn't sure why she said
it. Curiosity, she supposed. She wanted to
know his story. What had hurt him. What had
sent him out into the dark rainy night, to a
strange town, a strange bar, a strange
woman…
He looked up again. Seemed about to say
something. Then seemed to change his mind.
"Tulsa. I'm from Tulsa."
"Well, now, Tulsa's not far away. And I'm
pretty sure everyone in this room has heard
of it." She smiled gently at the way his
eyes widened, and he looked around. "Hey,
don't look so nervous. I'm not gonna tell
anyone where you're from if you don't want
me to."
His gaze met hers again. Burned into
hers. "I appreciate that."
"Are you in some kind of trouble?" she
asked.
He shook his head slowly. "I'm not wanted
or anything, if that's what you mean."
The reply that popped into her head was
that he most certainly was wanted.
Right now. By her. But she bit her tongue
and didn't speak. The fire snapped, and its
scent made her nostrils burn. The glow from
the flames painted his face in light and
shadow, and she took advantage of the chance
to explore it more thoroughly. He had a
straight nose that began high and was on the
large side. It made her think of royalty,
that nose. His jawline was sharply
delineated, and he hadn't shaved in several
hours. A soft dusting of dark whiskers
coated his cheeks and his chin. Reaching up,
she took off his hat, again moving without
thinking first. It was unlike her to be this
forward with anyone. But she took the hat
off, and it was wet. His hair underneath,
though, was dry. Brown and fire-glow red in
places, when the firelight hit it. It was
thick, wavy, but short. If it grew long, she
thought, it would look crimp-curled. But
short it couldn't. He kept it that way to
keep it tame, she mused. He liked control.
And now who was pretending to have ESP?
"Stealin' my hat, ma'am?" he asked, his
voice very soft, very deep, and stroking her
nerve endings like callused fingers on
velvet.
"Umm… it's wet." Turning away to hide the
rush of heat to her face, she hung the hat
on one of the pegs beside the fireplace.
Then she spoke to him over her shoulder,
avoiding his eyes. "Might as well hang that
shirt up here, too," she told him.
His reply came from close beside her. "If
you say so." A second later, his damp denim
brushed her arm as he leaned in close to her
to hang it up beside his hat. His shoulder
was pressed to hers, his hip…and he looked
down slowly, and his mouth was only inches
from hers as he turned toward her….
"Ahem!"
Maya jumped, and the stranger spun.
"Your cocoa is here," Selene said, her
mysterious silver eyes sliding from one of
them to the other. She put the pot on the
table, set a cup beside it, and tossed a
Denver Broncos sweatshirt over the back of
the chair. "It belongs to a friend of mine,
so make sure I get it back."
"Thanks," the man said. He took the
sweatshirt and pulled it on over his
T-shirt, arms...
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