Throughout his first week on the ranch, Travis worked hard. He’d never been a slacker, but making a good impression on Udall and Uma seemed to be more important to him than with any other employer.
He liked them. He liked the town.
He wanted his family to fit in after he left.
In return, he wanted to be respected, to be the kind of man his father had never been.
It seemed that, at the ripe old age of thirty-seven, he was growing into himself and becoming his own man.
All it had taken was his sister’s crisis for him to realize how fragile life was, and how fleeting peace could be.
The first couple of days, all he did was chase down cattle hidden in the most remote, thorniest spots, riding through the roughest terrain on the ranch.
“They always pick the worst spots to hunker down in,” he commented to Udall after they’d found yet another one grazing on the side of a small mountain. “That isn’t even the sweetest grass on the prairie.”
“Ain’t that the truth? Don’t know why.” Udall turned his horse toward the hill. “Let’s get him.”
Twenty minutes later, they’d routed the animal and trailed him back toward home.
Day after day, Travis rode the Weber ranch, getting to know its contours, its beauties and its tough spots.
When he was out on his own, he radioed one of the hands, Bill Young, with observations about broken fence lines and whatever else needed attention.
Bill would come along later on an ATV, what most cowboys called a Japanese quarter horse, and mend as needed.
In the evenings, even as he had a hasty dinner and stripped woodwork, he kept half an eye on the trailer across the road.
Unsettled by his last encounter with Rachel, and her cool reaction to him, he had an urge to see her, to find out what had happened. What had he done to offend her?
His chance came on Thursday night. Already tired of his own cooking, he headed into Honey’s Place for a beer and burger.
He showered, shaved, donned fresh jeans and a clean shirt and headed back out.
Rachel was at the bar filling an order.
The place wasn’t as packed as it had been last Friday night, but a good crowd filled probably two-thirds of the tables.
He searched for a table near where he’d sat with Cindy last week, hoping it would be in Rachel’s serving area.
When she approached, he knew he’d hit the jackpot.
She didn’t return his smile. He’d expected that.
Until he sorted out what the problem was, he figured he’d get more of the same treatment. How to approach her, though?
“Hey,” he said.
“What can I get for you?” she asked. He guessed she had to be polite. He was a customer. She had no choice.
He decided to test her. “Same order as last week.”
“Okay,” she said and walked away with the unopened menu and no questions asked.
She returned with a Corona.
Fifteen minutes later, out came his dinner, a perfect replica of last week’s meal. She’d remembered. She was one hell of a good waitress.
She set the burger and onion rings on the table in front of him without making eye contact.
“Rachel,” he said.
She added the plate of hot wings.
“Rachel, please.”
She put down his coleslaw and made to leave, but he grasped her wrist. He could feel a fine tremor beneath his palm.
“Tell me what I did wrong.”
“Nothing. Everything’s fine.”
“It isn’t and we both know it. I just can’t figure what I did.”
At last she looked at him. What he saw in her eyes puzzled him. She wasn’t angry, but hurt. He recognized more of that quiet acceptance of less that he’d seen when her car broke down.
What did that attitude have to do with him?
How was he asking her to expect less from him? He’d never offered her anything, so how could she expect little?
“What did I do?”
Her pulse beat rapidly against his fingers. “You did nothing wrong.”
“Then what changed? On Saturday night, we were almost friends. On Sunday morning, you were treating me like an enemy.”
“I wasn’t.” Her eyes flashed.
“Okay. Maybe not that badly. But you were warm and friendly until then. Since then, you’ve been cold.”
Talking so much, delving into problems, was out of character for him, but he wanted to know.
His eyes dropped to her belly. The last thing he needed was a ready-made family. So maybe it was best that things were rough between them. Why did he care?
The answer hit him in the solar plexus. He liked her. It wasn’t a case of wanting to take her to bed, though under different circumstances, he would sleep with her in a heartbeat.
The important thing here was that he just plain liked her...and had enjoyed her high regard of him.
It hurt that he’d lost her respect.
If he couldn’t get it back, so be it, but he at least wanted to understand why.
He squeezed her wrist gently, noting that she hadn’t pulled her hand away. She could have. He would have let go at the least resistance.
“Tell me what happened.”
She relented, eased that rigid backbone a fraction, and signaled to Honey she was sitting down for a minute.
Rachel wasn’t a coward, but tonight she felt like one, for one simple reason. Embarrassment.
She didn’t want to tell Travis that she’d spied on him.
How was she supposed to explain that she didn’t want him to be a drifter when that fact shouldn’t affect her at all?
She peeked at him. He watched her steadily.
She counted herself a good judge of character, mainly because of the revolving door of Cindy’s love life. She’d learned a lot growing up in Cindy’s trailer, strictly by virtue of watching, listening and keeping her mouth shut.
Beyond a shadow of a doubt, Travis was a good guy.
Too bad he liked to move around.
Again, that had nothing to do with her.
First to break the silence, he said, “What’s up, Rachel?”
She ran a fingernail along the seam of the wooden table. What could she say? I’m attracted to you? I like you? I’m pregnant and already a mother, but I want a relationship with you? And why shouldn’t you want to leave when you hear that?
Might as well get this thing started. “I might have asked my friend Nadine at the newspaper to check you out.”
“Check me out? Why?” A frown furrowed his brow. He wasn’t happy about this. If the tables were turned, she wouldn’t be, either.
“You just seemed too perfect. I was angry that you’d bought the house. I wanted to find a reason to dislike you.”
He perked up. “You thought I was perfect?”
She sent him a lowering look. “Maybe. Anyway, that was last Friday. I forgot I’d asked her. I really didn’t want to spy. I was just upset that the house was sold to someone else.”
“So? Why the cold shoulder?”
“Nadine called on Sunday.”
“And?” He moved his hand in a circular motion, urging her on.
“And she said you never stay in the same place for more than a year.”
He was silent for so long she wondered what he was thinking. She glanced up. He watched her without flinching, his expression shuttered.
“Why would that make you angry?” When she didn’t respond, he continued, “Why would you be angry with a guy you’ve known only a week just because he might leave town next year?”
She chose her words carefully. Crushes were for teenage girls, not grown women with children. It was too, too embarrassing to admit to Travis that she liked him, especially so quickly.
Suppressing memories of that incredible kiss they’d shared when he was injured on the highway, she forced herself to deal in generalities.
“First, let me apologize for being cold. It was an unreasonable response.”
She gathered her thoughts.
“Cindy’s had an endless string of boyfriends, mostly men passing through because she’s already dated all the eligible men in town. And some who were ineligible. Nothing good has ever come of those relationships.”
She motioned for him to eat. No sense in letting all of that good food to go to waste. “It was hard to grow up with that, seeing all of those men use my mom and then leave town. Cindy has her faults, but she doesn’t deserve to be treated so callously.”
“No, she doesn’t. She has a good heart even if she is too needy.”
“Yeah, that’s the right word.”
“So you think I might use Cindy and then leave?”
She hadn’t given Cindy a single thought.
“No. It’s just that I’ve developed a dislike of drifters.”
His spine stiffened. “I’m not a drifter. Yeah, I move on after a while, but I don’t take advantage of others. I earn my own keep. I’m a hard worker.”
“Dear Lord, I know that, Travis. I can see that. All you do every night is work on that house, and that’s after putting in a day of hard work for Udall.”
A tiny smile kicked up the corners of his mouth. Her gaze darted away because it set her nerves humming. “You’ve been talking to Udall about me?”
“No!” Okay, maybe she had run across Uma in the grocery store and had possibly asked her how Travis was doing on the ranch, to which Uma had responded with a resounding, “Boy, that man can work!” But she’d hadn’t talked to Udall, so she wasn’t lying, was she?
“My response to what Nadine told me wasn’t logical, Travis. It was emotional. I’ve seen too many men come and go over the years for me to trust a traveler.”
“What does that have to do with me?”
Dear Lord, don’t let him guess how much I care already, she prayed.
“It’s just my response to all new people in town.”
He nodded.
“I’m not a drifter, Rachel,” he stated emphatically, again, as though that were all she needed to know.
Thank goodness Travis didn’t bring up how friendly she’d been on his first morning in town, giving him a ride on the carousel and all.
Her aim was to get out of this discussion in one piece without plopping her heart out on the table like a sacrifice.
A family came in for dinner, and that ended the conversation. Rachel stood to welcome them and take their orders. She’d managed to keep it general. Travis would never suspect how much she liked him, and how much she wanted him to be the staying kind.
She walked away knowing she hadn’t gained anything from the conversation. She hadn’t heard the only thing she’d wanted to, the most unreasonable, improbable, impossible thing she could ever wish for.
He hadn’t said, “I would stay for you.”
McGuire, you are such a daydreamer.
Travis was still awake hours later, going over his conversation with Rachel. He was glad they’d talked, but still didn’t understand why his comings and goings mattered to her.
He wasn’t about to become involved with Cindy, so what difference did it make if he left in a year, or less?
He heard a car turn into her driveway across the road and glanced out the window, but it wasn’t Rachel’s car.
He threw on a coat and stepped outside.
Rachel approached her door as a car driven by Honey backed out of the driveway and took off.
“What happened to your car?” He didn’t need to raise his voice. In the stillness of the night, she would hear him. He walked down his driveway.
Rachel turned. “It wouldn’t start.”
“Again?” He crossed the road. “Want me to go boost it for you?”
“Not at this time of night. You need to get up early. Why are you still up?”
He wouldn’t tell her the truth. Because our talk kept me awake. Because I still can’t figure out why it matters to you if I stay or go, or why your opinion of me matters to me.
“Couldn’t sleep,” was all he admitted to. “Let’s go start your car.”
Cripes, Travis, what are you doing? You’ve got a whole shitload of crazy going on right now. You do not need to help this woman.
“Tomorrow’s Friday. Mom takes Tori to the mall for their girl-bonding. I’ll get into town somehow and get the car started then.”
“Let’s do it now.”
“Why are you pushing this so hard?”
“I need...”
“You need?”
“To know you’re safe. That you can get around tomorrow if you need to. That you have a working vehicle.”
“Travis, I’m not your responsibility.”
“I know.” Even to his own ears, he sounded confused. “Please get in the truck and let’s get this done.”
“Okay,” she said, but looked as puzzled as he felt.
The second they were both buckled in, she started to talk, all about independence and going her own way and being a capable woman, thank you very much. She didn’t need any man to take care of her. She was fine on her own.
And yet, here she was in his truck.
He figured she could give him a piece of her mind all she wanted. It beat the hell out of the silent treatment she’d given him this past week. He didn’t ever want to be on the receiving end of that again.
When she wound down a mile shy of town, he said, “Rachel, I know you’re capable.” To his surprise, he realized he meant it. He worried about her when he shouldn’t. Her business was her own.
He scrubbed the back of his neck.
“You’re right,” he said, and meant it. “You are independent. You’re doing a great job with your daughter. You did a great job with the carousel. You are a kick-ass waitress. The townspeople love and respect you.”
Next, he said something he’d never found easy. “I’m sorry.”
She took her time, but eventually nodded. “Thanks. I appreciate the apology.”
A moment later, she asked, “What was it for?”
“I’ve been high-handed at times.”
He sensed her nodding beside him.
“Know what I need from you?”
He’d piqued her curiosity. He felt her watching him.
“No, what?”
“I need a friend. You’re the best person I’ve met in this town. We both know I’ll be leaving at some point. I have no designs on your mother, so she won’t get hurt. You’ve got a whole barrel of responsibilities that have nothing to do with me, and you’re independent as you said, so you won’t be demanding a lot of me.”
Whew, an entire speech. What was it about this woman that had him opening up and talking so much?
Something in the honest, straightforward way she dealt with people demanded no less from him.
“You want me to be your friend?”
She seemed a mite disappointed. He didn’t know why.
To his mind, friendship was the best gift a person could offer. It was worth all the gems in the world.
“Yeah. I didn’t like when you weren’t talking to me.”
There he went spilling his beans again.
“It hurt when you were cold.”
His admission seemed to please her.
“Okay. We can be friends.”
“Okay, then. Don’t friends help each other out in times of need?”
“Yes.”
“And this is a time of need.”
“For me, yes. Here’s the problem, though.” She shifted in her seat. “When will there ever be a time for me to give something back to you?”
He cast a startled glance at her. “You don’t know?”
“Know what?”
“The carousel ride, to start.”
“You already paid me back for that.”
“I know. I guess I can’t stress enough how huge it was. Sammy and me—”
He could feel her eyes on him.
“Sammy and you?”
“We didn’t have anything. Dad drank too much and Mom was...” He shrugged, trying to minimize what they’d gone through. He wasn’t looking for pity. “Best way I can describe her is weak. She wasn’t a bad person, but she didn’t have a lot to give. Sammy and I were on our own. Then they died.”
She rubbed one hand on her thigh. “I’m sorry.”
“I don’t want you to feel sorry for me. I just want you to understand how it was. We had nothing. No money. No stuff. I kept us together by working every waking hour I wasn’t going to school. After Mom died, I had to drop out.”
They arrived in front of Honey’s. He pulled up beside Rachel’s car.
“There were no extras, no movies, no county fairs, no music. That ride you gave me was...” He had to stop talking because he’d become emotional. He wasn’t an emotional man.
A moment later, he cleared his throat. “When I was growing up, there was no joy.” He turned in his seat to face her, desperate for her to understand. “You gave me joy.”
Her whiskey eyes looked suspiciously moist. She tucked a strand of tawny hair behind her ear. One silver cowboy-boot earring winked at him in the dim light from Honey’s front door.
“Travis, that’s the best thing anyone’s ever said to me.”
“There’s more. When I felt your baby talking to me...” When her eyes widened, he amended, “I mean when I felt her moving, it was like she was communicating with me. Acknowledging me, or something. Strange, huh?”
“No, not strange. I feel the same way. Sometimes when she moves, it feels like she’s playing with me already.”
“You’ve given me two gifts the likes of which I could never repay. My point is that you have to understand why I need to help you out when I can. Okay?”
“Okay. Just be less bossy about it.”
“I can do that.”
They got out of the truck. Rachel sat in the driver’s seat of her car.
Travis boosted the battery, closed her hood and came around to her open driver’s window. “Consider scraping together enough cash to get yourself another cheap clunker. There’s got to be a better one out there.”
“I’ll think about it.” She smiled, not one of her dazzlers, but a quiet, thoughtful one. He found it no less attractive than the bright, shiny ones.
“Thank you, Travis. Thanks for explaining things to me.”
The wind picked up, and he tamped his hat more firmly onto his head. “I’m a lot more than just a macho dude, you know.”
“A bossy macho dude.”
“I’ll try to do better.”
“Promises, promises.”