Diana Palmer Christmas Collection: The Rancher / Christmas Cowboy / A Man of Means / True Blue / Carrera's Bride / Will of Steel / Winter Roses

Corrigan paced up and down Dorie’s front porch for an hour until he realized that she wasn’t coming home. He drove back to town and pulled up in front of Tira Beck’s brick house.

She came out onto the porch, in jeans and a sweatshirt, her glorious hair around her shoulders. Her arms were folded and she looked concerned. Her frantic phone call had sent him flying over to Dorie’s house hours before he was due to pick her up for the movie. Now it looked as if the movie, and anything else, was off.

“Well?” she asked.

He shook his head, with his hands deep in his jacket pockets. “She wasn’t there. I waited for an hour. There’s no note on the door, no nothing.”

Tira sighed miserably. “It’s all my fault. Me and my big mouth. I had no idea who she was, and I didn’t know that what I was telling Clarisse was just a bunch of bull that you’d handed me to keep me from seeing how much you cared for the woman.” She looked up accusingly. “See what happens when you lie to your friends?”

“You didn’t have to tell her that!”

“I didn’t know she was there! And we had agreed to go to the Coltrains’ party together, you and me and Charles Percy.”

“You didn’t mention that you had a date for it, I guess?” he asked irritably.

“No. I didn’t realize anyone except Clarisse was listening, and she already knew I was going with Charles.”

He tilted his hat farther over his tired eyes. “God, the webs we weave,” he said heavily. “She’s gone and I don’t know where to look for her. She might have gone back to New York for all I know, especially after yesterday. She had every reason to think I was dead serious about her until this morning.”

Tira folded her arms closer against the cold look he shot her. “I said I’m sorry,” she muttered. “I tried to stop her and tell her that she’d misunderstood me about the party, that I wasn’t your date. But she wouldn’t even look at me. I’m not sure she saw me. She was crying.”

He groaned aloud.

“Oh, Corrigan, I’m sorry,” she said gently. “Simon always says you do everything the hard way. I guess he knows you better than the others.”

He glanced at her curiously. “When have you seen Simon?”

“At the cattle convention in San Antonio last week. I sold a lot of my Montana herd there.”

“And he actually spoke to you?”

She smiled wistfully. “He always speaks to me,” she said. “I don’t treat him like an invalid. He feels comfortable with me.”

He gave her an intent look. “He wouldn’t if he knew how you felt about him.”

Her eyes narrowed angrily. “I’m not telling him. And neither are you! If he wants me to be just a friend, I can settle for that. It isn’t as if I’m shopping for a new husband. One was enough,” she added curtly.

“Simon was always protective about you,” he recalled. “Even before you married.”

“He pushed me at John,” she reminded him.

“Simon was married when he met you.”

Her expression closed. She didn’t say a word, but it was there, in her face. She’d hated Simon’s wife, and the feeling had been mutual. Simon had hated her husband, too. But despite all the turbulence between Tira and Simon, there had never been a hint of infidelity while they were both married. Now, it was as if they couldn’t get past their respective bad marriages to really look at each other romantically. Tira loved Simon, although no one except Corrigan knew it. But Simon kept secrets. No one was privy to them anymore, not even his own brothers. He kept to himself in San Antonio. Too much, sometimes.

Tira was watching him brood. “Why don’t you file a missing persons report?” she suggested suddenly.

“I have to wait twenty-four hours. She could be in Alaska by then.” He muttered under his breath. “I guess I could hire a private detective to look for her.”

She gave him a thoughtful look and her eyes twinkled. “I’ve got a better idea. Why not tell your brothers she’s gone missing?”

His eyebrows lifted, and hope returned. “Now that’s a constructive suggestion,” he agreed, nodding, and he began to grin. “They were already looking forward to homemade biscuits every morning. They’ll be horrified!”

And they were. It was amazing, the looks that he got from his own kinfolk when he mentioned that their prized biscuit maker had gone missing.

“It’s your fault,” Rey said angrily. “You should have proposed to her.”

“I thought you guys had all that taken care of,” Corrigan said reasonably. “The rings, the minister, the gown, the invitations…”

“Everything except the most important part,” Cag told him coldly.

“Oh, that. Did we forget to tell her that he loved her?” Leo asked sharply. “Good Lord, we did! No wonder she left!” He glared at his brother. “You could have told her yourself if you hadn’t been chewing on your hurt pride. And speaking of pride, why didn’t you tell Tira the truth instead of hedging your bets with a bunch of lies?”

“Because Tira has a big mouth and I didn’t want the whole town to know I was dying of unrequited love for Dorie!” he raged. “She doesn’t want to marry me. She said so! A man has to have a little pride to cling to!”

“Pride and those sort of biscuits don’t mix,” Rey stressed. “We’ve got to get her back. Okay, boys, who do we know in the highway patrol? Better yet, don’t we know at least one Texas Ranger? Those boys can track anybody! Let’s pool resources here…”

Watching them work, Corrigan felt relieved for himself and just a little sorry for Dorie. She wouldn’t stand a chance.

She didn’t, either. A tall, good-looking man with black hair wearing a white Stetson and a Texas Ranger’s star on his uniform knocked at the door of her motel room in Victoria. When she answered it, he tipped his hat politely, smiled and put her in handcuffs.

They were halfway back to Jacobsville, her hastily packed suitcase and her purse beside her, before she got enough breath back to protest.

“But why have you arrested me?” she demanded.

“Why?” He thought for a minute and she saw him scowl in the rearview mirror. “Oh, I remember. Cattle rustling.” He nodded. “Yep, that’s it. Cattle rustling.” He glanced at her in the rearview mirror. “You see, rustling is a crime that cuts across county lines, which gave me the authority to arrest you.”

“Whose cattle have I rustled?” she demanded impertinently.

“The Hart Brothers filed the charges.”

“Hart… Corrigan Hart?” She made a furious sound under her breath. “No. Not Corrigan. Them. It was them! Them and their damned biscuits! It’s a put-up job,” she exclaimed. “They’ve falsely accused me so that they can get me back into their kitchen!”

He chuckled at the way she phrased it. The Hart brothers and their mania for biscuits was known far and wide. “No, ma’am, I can swear to that,” he told her. His twinkling black eyes shone out of a lean, darkly tanned face. His hair was black, too, straight and thick under that wide-brimmed white hat. “They showed me where it was.”

“It?”

“The bull you rustled. His stall was empty, all right.”

Her eyes bulged. “Didn’t you look for him on the ranch?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he assured her with a wide smile. “I looked. But the stall was empty, and they said he’d be in it if he hadn’t been rustled. That was a milliondollar bull, ma’am.” He shook his head. “They could shoot you for that. This is Texas, you know. Cattle rustling is a very serious charge.”

“How could I rustle a bull? Do you have any idea how much a bull weighs?” She was sounding hysterical. She calmed down. “All right. If I took that bull, where was he?”

“Probably hidden in your room, ma’am. I plan to phone back when we get to the Hart place and have the manager search it,” he assured her. His rakish grin widened. “Of course, if he doesn’t find a bull in your room, that will probably mean that I can drop the charges.”

“Drop them, the devil!” she flared, blowing a wisp of platinum hair out of her eyes. “I’ll sue the whole damned state for false arrest!”