Daniel had left her bags on the bed. All Megan really wanted to do was put them on the floor, then crawl under the covers and sleep. But first she would force herself to unpack both suitcases. In the morning, it would be nice to wake up and have the job already done.

First she unpacked her regular things, putting the folded shirts, jeans, and underclothes into the empty dresser drawers; then she hung up her quilted down coat, her woolen sweater, and the one dress she’d brought. Her snow boots and low-heeled pumps went into the closet, along with the sneakers she’d worn for the drive.

That done, she opened what she’d come to think of as Lacy’s suitcase. The fringed, beaded leather jacket went onto a padded hanger in the back of the closet, along with the low-cut black silk blouse and the distressed stretch-denim jeans. The knee-high, stiletto-heeled boots went into one corner, the long brunette wig, with its inflatable stand, on the top shelf of the closet. Next to it, she placed her weathered felt Stetson and the box that held her stage makeup, complete with false eyelashes, lush red lipstick, and the collection of cheap silver rings that Lacy wore on her fingers.

At last, the unpacking was finished. Lacy would be ready to perform when her friends, the Badger Hollow Boys, showed up for the Cowboy Christmas Ball. Until then, Megan could relax and enjoy the season with her family. With luck, she might also find some time to get out her old guitar and work on the original song she was writing.

With a tired yawn, she stowed the empty suitcases under the bed, brushed her teeth, changed into flannel pajamas, and climbed into bed. Tomorrow, if she could trust his word, Conner Branch would be back to help her with her car. In spite of her misgivings, she looked forward to seeing him again. She wasn’t interested in romance, but she was intrigued. The fact that Daniel seemed to almost worship the man only sharpened her curiosity.

Warm under downy quilts, Megan was already beginning to drift. As she sank into sleep, lulled by the wind, images swirled and faded, leaving only one that lingered—a shadow-cast face with clean-cut features and impossibly blue eyes.

* * *

Inching through whiteout conditions, Conner took almost forty-five minutes to make the short drive back to the ranch. By the time he drove in through the gate and parked the truck under the open shed, the fallen snow was up to the rims of the oversized tires. It was as fluffy as eiderdown, blowing in drifts around Conner’s feet, covering his tracks as he crossed the yard to the front porch.

He was stomping the snow off his boots when Travis opened the door. “What? You didn’t bring pizza?” he asked.