“Yes, you will.” Megan was about to say more, when her cell phone rang. She fished it out of her purse, which had been locked in her car most of the day.

“Hi, Derek.” The caller was no surprise. She stepped into the hallway, out of Daniel’s hearing.

“I’ve been trying to reach you for hours,” he complained. “What’s going on, Megan? Why wouldn’t you pick up?”

Megan suppressed a sigh. Back in Nashville, Derek had been the ideal boyfriend—attentive and considerate. Until she’d left him to spend the holidays here, she hadn’t realized how needy the man could be.

“I was helping Daniel sell Christmas trees,” she said. “My phone was turned off and locked in the car. Honestly, Derek, I’m not one of your students. You don’t need to track my every move.”

“Oh, I know,” he said. “It’s just that I miss you so much. I feel lost without you. And I worry.”

“No need for that. Everything’s fine.”

“And you’ll be back here for New Year’s Eve, won’t you?” he asked. “I’ve got a special surprise planned.”

“We’ll talk about that later, okay? Right now, I’m exhausted. I need to get ready for bed. We can talk tomorrow. And don’t worry about calling me. I’ll call you. Bye now.”

Megan slumped against the wall, the memory of Conner’s kiss sweeping over her like a tide of hot lava. In the light of her blazing response, only one thing was certain. She was in no condition to marry Derek—or anybody else. Not when her common sense was being overrun by a wild stampede of raging hormones.

And not when all she could think of was kissing the charming cowboy again.

It wasn’t hard to guess that Derek was planning to propose on New Year’s Eve. Stringing him along until then would be cruel. She needed to break up with him—the sooner, the better. As her school principal, he was her boss. That would make things more complicated, but she couldn’t let it stop her.

She’d promised to call Derek tomorrow. That would be the time to end things between them, before Conner picked her up for dinner. Derek was bound to be hurt, even angry, and she could expect him to pile on the guilt. But that couldn’t be allowed to matter. It had to be done.

* * *

When Conner woke up the next morning, Travis’s coat was on the rack, and his boots were by the stove. The muted sound of snoring came from under his bedroom door.

Conner let Bucket out and went to the barn to feed and water the horses. He returned to the house to find Travis seated at the table in his robe, drinking coffee.