After Scarlett left, Travis regretted sending her away. Yet he’d felt he had to, as the more the illness receded, the more being around her aroused his desire.
That morning when she’d walked into the kitchen, tousled and still half-asleep, he’d gotten instantly hard. He’d wanted her so badly he could scarcely think, never mind form coherent words.
Struggling to keep his body under control would have been difficult, never mind exhausting. And even as much as he knew he could arouse her passion to equal his, making love to her while he still might be contagious felt every sort of wrong.
So he’d made her go. He knew his abrupt dismissal had hurt her—she wasn’t very good at hiding her feelings. He’d make sure and explain the truth later, once he could kiss her and hold her without fear of getting her sick too.
Even so, once he got past his libido, he missed her. He missed her laugh, the way they could discuss the plot of television shows, cooking together, eating together. The more time he spent with Scarlett, the more he felt himself falling.
And the more he knew he needed to resist her lure. He’d allowed himself to feel that way about Kendra, and when she’d accepted his proposal, he’d allowed himself to be swept up in dreams of a future with her. They’d made plans, even discussing children.
And then she’d called it off. He’d been decimated, destroyed and ruined. There was no way in hell he wanted to put himself through that again.
But he couldn’t manage to silence that small part of him that thought Scarlett might be different. That tiny seed of stubborn hope refused to go away. Despite logic telling him otherwise.
He made it through the rest of the day, bored and out of sorts. Ready for his life to return to normal, he went to bed early.
The next morning, he rose early and showered. He felt like a new man. No more aches and pains, not even the slightest bit of a headache. Taking his temperature just as a precaution, when the thermometer showed 98.6 he breathed a loud sigh of relief.
Ready to go. Back to work, back to his normal life. He planned to throw himself into it with gusto. He needed some time away from Scarlett, time to get his head together.
The next two days passed in a blur. Travis rose early and worked late, often falling into bed after grabbing a quick meal. His mother, Amber and little Will were still staying up at the main house, which actually suited him fine. He didn’t want to talk, he didn’t want to even think, so he used the alone time to keep himself busy.
Unfortunately, next week was the big ball.
On the evening of the third day, he drove home with bleary eyes and debated heading into town for a quick beer. When he saw his mother’s SUV and Amber’s little economy car in the driveway, he knew his idyllic oasis of peace had come to an abrupt end.
He almost pulled a U-turn in his own driveway but knew with the way he’d been pushing himself, he’d be lucky to stay awake after having a beer and then driving back from town. Plus, he couldn’t delay the inevitable forever.
At least when he walked in the door, the aroma of homemade fried chicken hit him. Mouth watering, he following the smell back to the kitchen. Vivian and Amber sat at the empty kitchen table, clearly having finished eating. Little Will had been playing with his toy cars on the floor. When he caught sight of his uncle Travis, Will jumped to his feet and launched himself forward, confident Travis would catch him.
Of course, Travis did, right under the armpits. He lifted Will up, swinging him around and smiling at the joyous sound of a young boy’s laughter.
When he set Will back on his own two feet, he admired the toy cars before searching for the plate of leftover chicken. He found it, covered in tinfoil, on the counter.
“Help yourself, son,” Vivian said. “It’s great to see you all better.”
“Yeah,” Amber seconded. “You look totally normal.”
“Thanks.” His dry response made his sister grin.
He made himself a plate and grabbed a bottle of beer from the fridge. Sitting down, he dug in. He’d plowed his way through two pieces of chicken and started on a third when he realized the room had gone utterly silent. He looked up to find everyone staring at him.
“Hungry much?” Vivian drawled. “Would you like some of my homemade potato salad to go with the chicken?”
He stopped chewing long enough to nod. With the initial hunger pangs satisfied, he managed to wait while Vivian got out a bowl from the refrigerator and spooned two heaping mounds onto his plate.
Then he went back to eating, tackling his plate with a single-minded determination until he’d finished. When he finally sat back in his chair and took a long drink of his beer, he thanked Vivian for an awesome meal.
“You’re welcome,” she replied, clearly pleased. “It’s good to be home.”
She filled him in on Hal. “I’m delighted that he’s feeling a bit better. I keep hoping he’ll beat this thing, whatever it is.”
“Me too,” Travis said fervently. “Me too.”
“I take it you weren’t too hard on Scarlett,” Amber teased. “Thanks for making us all sound crazy for warning her about you.”
“You’re welcome,” he answered, stifling a yawn. Now that he’d eaten, all he wanted to do was go to sleep. While he tried to figure out a polite way to escape to his room, Vivian grabbed his plate, put the bones in the trash and rinsed the dish off before putting it in the dishwasher.
“I think I’ll turn in,” he began.
“Not yet.” His mother wagged a finger at him. “Don’t you want to see your costume?” Without waiting for an answer, Vivian went out to the hall closet and returned with something in a clear dry cleaning bag. “I’ve left Scarlett’s with her.”
Feeling as if he ought to brace himself, he tried to appear interested. Truthfully, as long as he wouldn’t be wearing something weird, he really didn’t care. In the past when choosing his costume, he’d simply gone with whatever would be easiest. Instead of making the two-hour drive into Dallas, he’d always ordered online. This would be the first year since he’d been a child that he hadn’t chosen his own costume.
“Take a look at this,” Vivian crowed. “It’s fantastic.” When she lifted up the plastic bag and showed him the gangster outfit, he breathed a sigh of relief. At least it wasn’t anything too crazy. In fact, it looked like something he might have chosen himself.
“You and Scarlett will be quite the pair,” Vivian continued, not giving him a chance to speak. “I think she really liked her costume. Luckily, it fits her perfectly. We would have been running out of time to get it altered.”
He eyed her. “I’m guessing you’re wanting me to try this on?”
“Please? With the ball less than a week away, you know the alterations shops will be booked. Especially since there are only two.”
Grabbing the costume, he covered his mouth to mask another yawn, retreated to his room and tried it on. The pants fit fine, but the white shirt wouldn’t even button over his chest. Which wouldn’t be a problem, since he had a white dress shirt, still in the wrapper, that he’d purchased for the wedding. The red tie, while a bit loud, would be fine, and he had an old pair of dress shoes that he could shine up.
He opened his door and stuck his head out. “It mostly fits. I’ll have to use my own white shirt.”
“Great,” Vivian called back. “I’m going to go take Frank his costume. I have some exciting news for him.”
“Okay. And thanks for dinner and getting the costume.”
When Travis emerged after changing back into his sweats, his mother had already left. Amber sat watching Will play. She looked up at Travis and shook her head.
“She’s been going nonstop since we got back home. I’m getting the impression ole Frank has been making himself scarce, which makes Mom more intent on gaining his attention.”
“What exciting news does she have for Frank?” he asked.
Amber sighed. “Mom conned poor Scarlett into agreeing to give Frank a professional opinion on his work.” She grimaced. Frank was usually oddly secretive about allowing anyone to see his paintings or sculptures, but what little they’d been able to see had been terrible.
He shook his head. “Something tells me Scarlett can handle herself.”
“I sure hope so, for her sake. And it’s not Frank I’m worried about, it’s Mom.”
When Amber got up to make a protesting Will take a bath and get ready for bed, Travis excused himself and went to his room. He’d been up since 4:30 and though it was only a little after 8:00 p.m., he could scarcely keep his eyes open.
The next week passed in a blur. Travis continued to push himself at a breakneck pace, refusing to allow any time at all for introspective thoughts. Whenever one managed to creep in, he immediately refused to allow it.
Except in his dreams. Those, he could not control. While he slept, Scarlett filled his arms, his mind, his heart. He woke every morning feeling bereft.
Finally, the day before the ball arrived. He went to work as usual, though all the cattle had been either moved or sold, all the fences repaired and the horses brought in to closer pastures or, in some cases, the barn. All the hay had been baled and brought into the storage barn and, as the days had grown shorter, the ranch hands moved a little slower and took things easier.
Except Travis. He continued to push himself at nearly impossible speed. He worked on the tractor instead of calling a mechanic, did all the horse worming and shots himself rather than delegate to his crew.
Because tomorrow, he’d be putting on a costume and picking up Scarlett and taking her to the ball.
He hadn’t talked to her at all since asking her to leave his house. Amber and Vivian had offhandedly kept him updated. While Travis felt guilty for not visiting Hal, he’d kept himself so busy that he’d actually had a legitimate excuse. Hal had called him a couple of times and they’d had long conversations. Travis suspected Hal knew why Travis kept himself absent, though the older man never asked.
While Travis had known he couldn’t avoid Scarlett forever, he hoped he’d managed to build up his armor enough so when he saw her again, he could remain impartial instead of aching to rip her clothes off and make love to her like he did in his dreams.
There had been no more threats, according to Amber. Scarlett, Hal and Delilah had fallen into a routine of sorts. Amber and Scarlett were still planning to go into town and have a girls’ night, though they’d had to postpone it until after the ball because Vivian had kept insisting she go with them.
Since tomorrow was so important, Travis actually quit working at a normal hour and headed home. Vivian had said she’d be staying over at Frank’s and riding to the ball with him, and Amber had taken Will for a playdate with one of his friends in town.
Which meant once again, Travis had his house to himself. Again, he thought of the couple of acres he’d asked Hal if he could buy, with plans of someday building his own house. He and Kendra had actually gone over plans, but when that relationship had fallen apart, Travis had scrapped the idea.
For the first time in a long time, he thought about revisiting the possibility. And not because of Scarlett, he told himself. But because the time had come for him to have his own space. Since he couldn’t kick his mother and sister and nephew out, the only solution would be to move.
He resolved to discuss the idea with Hal after the ball.
The Halloween Harvest Fair and Costume Ball was the culmination of a season. Since the end of October signified the end of harvest, everyone turned their attention to the upcoming holidays. Life on the ranch slowed down a little.
Travis went into his room to double-check his costume. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d forgotten something. And then he remembered. It had been so long since he’d taken a date to the ball, he’d forgotten about the wrist corsage he was supposed to buy Scarlett. The old tradition had started back in the 1950s.
Checking his watch, he figured he had time to drive into town and stop at June’s Florist. While she took custom orders, she also kept lots of extras stocked.
He hopped back into his truck and headed to downtown Anniversary. Since he had to go right past the country club, he saw the decorators were already at the venue, getting set up for the festivities later.
When he pulled up to June’s, he lucked into a parking spot two doors down. He got out and hurried inside, hoping he wasn’t too late and that she hadn’t sold out.
Only three corsages remained in the refrigerated case near the back counter. Two were sad little things, beginning to wilt. The third, a grouping of red-and-white flowers, seemed too large to decorate a wrist. But since beggars couldn’t be choosers, he told the salesclerk he’d take that one. Waiting while she boxed it up, he waved to June working frantically in the back. Once he’d paid, he took his small box and headed out. He had plenty of time to drive home and get ready.
“Hey, Travis. Got a minute?” The voice belonged to Bubba Weber. His family owned a large sheep ranch and their land butted up against the HG. Wave Oil had been bugging him too, so much so that Bubba had finally resorted to posting No Trespassing signs with a note under that warning that violators would be shot. He’d also been instrumental in organizing a group of local farmers and ranchers who were against letting big oil take over their town.
“Sure.” Travis turned around. “What’s up?”
Bubba sauntered up, his dirty jeans and scuffed boots indicating he’d just gotten done working on his farm. A plug of chewing tobacco made one of his cheeks swell out. Before he spoke again, he spit on the sidewalk and then he looked Travis in the eye. “I’m a bit concerned over something I heard here recently, so I’ve got to ask. I’m wondering if you’re still against letting anyone drill on your family’s land or if you’ve changed your mind?”
Travis’s heart sank. “I am. Don’t tell me you’ve had a difference of opinion.”
“No, not me.” Bubba shuffled his feet, looking slightly uncomfortable as he tugged at the neck of his shirt. “But I have to ask, if you’re still with us, why are you allowing an oil company employee to stay at Hal’s place? We know he’s been sick and it’d be just like those folks to take advantage of that fact and get him to sign something.”
“An oil company employee?” Struggling to make sense of the other man’s words, Travis frowned. “The only new person staying at Hal’s is his daughter from Atlanta. She has nothing to do with the oil company.”
“That’s not what I hear.” Bubba stuck his chin out stubbornly. “You need to make sure.”
“I wouldn’t pay too much attention to gossip,” Travis pointed out. “I’d need more proof.”
“You’re sweet on her, aren’t you?” The other man took a step back, as if Travis had suddenly developed a stench. “That’s probably part of their plan too. Working on both Hal and you. They know how much pull you have with Hal.”
Travis stared. “That’s nonsense.”
“Is it?” Bubba eyed the corsage box. “Because I heard you’re bringing her to the ball tonight.”
“That’s true, but—”
“Save it,” Bubba said, flipping his hand in dismissal. “You should know a bunch of us are planning to ask her to her face if what we’ve heard is true.”
“You keep saying you’ve heard. Where exactly are you hearing these things?”
Bubba shrugged. “Around town,” he said vaguely. “Here and there. You know how rumors spread.”
“I do. Just like I know most of those same rumors are unfounded.” Frustrated, he tried to find the right words. “Believe me, when Scarlett first got here, I was suspicious too. But as I’ve gotten to know her, I’ve realized that my suspicions were unfounded. There’s no reason to confront her over such nonsense.”
“Hmm.” Bubba didn’t appear convinced. “We’ll see,” he muttered, before he sauntered away.
Watching him go, Travis didn’t know whether to be irritated or bemused. One thing he knew for certain, if he ever found out who was behind the gossip about Scarlett, he’d call them out on it. Because it most certainly wasn’t true.
Or was it?
He thought about her story, which he’d checked out. Her mother had died and they’d lived in a suburb of Atlanta, true. But as far as her job, working in a small art gallery, that he’d never verified. What if she was working with Wave Oil, like Kendra?
The idea seemed too far-fetched. Kendra had been completely up-front about her motives, so why would Scarlett lie? And quite honestly, she didn’t seem like the type to work with a large oil company to try to convince a sick old man to go against his principles.
Yet as he got in his truck to drive home, the small seed of doubt Bubba’s words had planted festered. He could imagine several scenarios, all of which someone wanting something might have engineered in order to get her way. Including making love to him.
Scarlett must have glanced at her watch thirty times as the afternoon crawled. She couldn’t wait until it was time to start getting ready for the ball.
Her phone rang.
“Scarlett?” Amber said, sounding harried. “I forgot to mention the boutonniere.”
“The what?” Scarlett asked, even though she knew what a boutonniere was.”
“It’s tradition,” Amber rushed on. “Men get their date a wrist corsage, we get men a boutonniere for their lapel. June’s Florist in town takes orders, but she always makes up a bunch extra for those who forget.” Amber paused for breath. “And I forgot to get my date one too. I’m not going to have time, what with needing to get Will to the sitter. So I wanted to ask a huge favor... Would you go into town and grab one for me? I imagine you’ll need to get one for Travis as well.”
Scarlett checked her watch again. “Sure. I’m pretty sure I have enough time.” She took a deep breath. “Actually, I’ll welcome the distraction. I’ve been trying to figure out how to fill the afternoon until it’s time to get ready. Do you want any particular color?”
“No.” Amber laughed. “Beggars can’t be choosers. The floral shop is on Main Street. You can’t miss it. Thank you so much. I’ll pay you back when I see you tonight, okay?”
“No problem.” Scarlett grabbed her car keys and headed out. Once she arrived in town, she drove slowly, looking for June’s. She found a parking spot and went inside.
As Amber had mentioned, June had set up display cases with both wrist corsages and boutonnieres. She chose two and paid, waiting while the clerk boxed them up.
Once outside, she headed toward her car, pleased that she’d been able to find a red one for Travis.
“Ma’am?”
Scarlett turned. The young man wearing a tailored suit and tie looked as out of place on the Anniversary square as she’d felt the first time she’d worn her dress and heels. Today she had on jeans and boots, like almost everyone else.
“Were you talking to me?” Puzzled, she glanced around. The few other pedestrians out and about continued on past them.
“Yes, I’m sorry.” The stranger held out his hand. “I’m John Mellon. I wonder if I could have a moment of your time.”
Ah, now she got it. “Whatever you’re selling, thank you but I’m not interested.” She turned to walk away.
“I’m not selling anything,” he protested. “Honestly. I work for Wave Oil Company. I wanted to discuss with you the possibility of drilling on your father’s land.”
She froze. “I’m sorry, but you have the wrong person. I have no authority over things like that. You’d need to talk to him personally, not me.”
Adjusting his wire-rimmed glasses on his nose, he sighed. “Could I buy you a coffee so we can visit for a few minutes? I promise, no pressure.”
Again she checked her watch. “I don’t think so. You might not know, since you’re not from around here, but it’s a pretty big day here in town.”
He smiled. “So I hear. A festival and costume dance. But I’ve been told it’s going on all weekend.”
“The festival is. But the ball is tonight. And I’ve got to go get ready.”
“Please, I just need fifteen minutes of your time.” He grimaced. “That way I can at least let my boss know I’ve tried.”
She still had a couple of hours before she needed to start getting ready. Considering the prospect of trying to keep busy at home, she wavered.
Finally, she shrugged. “Sure, I guess. I don’t see the harm. As long as you understand that you can talk to me until you’re blue in the face, but nothing will change in that area. I have zero authority over what happens with the ranch.”
With a smile and a nod, he gestured toward the coffee shop two doors down. When they reached it, he held the door open for her and asked her what she wanted. Once she’d told him, he placed the order for her cappuccino and his latte. “Pick a table,” he said. “I’ll bring the coffees as soon as they’re ready.”
Since there were only two available tables, Scarlett chose the one by the front window. Really, while a nice hot cappuccino sounded wonderful, she didn’t understand why this John Mellon wanted to talk to her. She’d already made it clear that she couldn’t help him. Apparently he didn’t believe her.
A few minutes later he returned. After handing over her coffee, he took a seat across from her. “They have the best coffee in town,” he said, still smiling.
She took a sip. He was right. It was great coffee.
“Please understand, I get where you’re coming from,” John began. “I know you’re new here and also I’ve heard your father is very ill. I’ve been told he has tons of medical bills and no way to pay them.”
Sitting a little straighter, she eyed him. “Even if that’s true I fail to see how that’s any of your business.”
“Easy now.” He held up a well-manicured hand in mock self-defense. “I’m not trying to pry. I’m just wanting to let you know if that truly is the case, and Hal needs money for his medical expenses, allowing us to place one or two small drilling wells would take care of everything. And more. It’s something to consider, don’t you think?”
Taking another sip of her coffee, she eyed him. “What I think is you need to discuss this with Hal. As I’ve told you.”
“We’ve tried. But his ranch foreman won’t even allow us to make an appointment.”
“Travis?” Maybe she’d made a huge mistake in even talking to this guy, especially since Travis had already believed she was in cahoots with them. “Travis operates under Hal’s authority. I’m sure if he won’t allow you a meeting, that’s at Hal’s direction.”
“Maybe. And then again, maybe not. All I’m asking is for you to talk to Hal about it. If you’re right, and Travis is just doing what Hal says, then fine. It didn’t hurt to try. But if Travis is taking it upon himself to make his own decisions...” He drank deeply, settling the cup down and gazing earnestly at her. “Don’t you think you owe it to your father to at least find out?”
He had a point. Much as she might not like getting in the middle of Hal and Travis, she knew how much Travis despised big oil, as he called them. As for Hal, he’d said very little. And he had showed her his medical bills.
“I guess it won’t hurt for me to ask him,” she allowed, wondering why she felt as if she were doing something wrong. “No promises, no commitment to anything, you understand. But I will make sure my father truly doesn’t want to meet with you.”
“That’s all I can ask,” he said smoothly, draining his coffee and getting to his feet. “Thank you for your time.”
He left her sitting there, wondering if she’d somehow just been played. But she comforted herself with the knowledge that the only thing she’d agreed to do was mention the meeting to Hal. She hadn’t even said when, just that she would.
After arriving home, Scarlett put the meeting out of her mind. Right now, she had more important things to consider.