Hill Country Homecoming Read online

  “You did?”

  He chuckled. “You were so wrapped up in your engagement to Tucker, I’m not surprised the fact escaped your notice.”

  She nodded and the conversation fell into silence. After another half mile, he eased his horse’s pace to sidle up to her mount. “Anytime you need to head toward Dallas for a few days, you go ahead. We can hold down the fort.”

  She arched her back and sat straighter in the saddle. “If Tucker wants to be with me, he can come here. I’m not about to leave Daddy or the ranch right now.” With a click through her teeth, she spurred her mare to a trot.

  * * *

  Travis removed his hat and wiped his hand over his forehead. He whispered, “Yes, ma’am.” His eyes followed her as she moved further along the ranch’s property line. Who’d crawled into the spoiled princess’ skin over the past two weeks? This definitely was not the Sarah Mansfield he’d once despised. He couldn’t help but wonder how tepid the pre-marital waters had become. If he were a betting man, he’d place odds on there not being a wedding come June. He’d barely met Tucker but surmised he didn’t have much depth of character. Sarah depicted nothing more than a jewel in the rising attorney’s crown—a rich, good-looking gal to make the other execs jealous. Wonder if she’d figured that out yet? Then again, perhaps it had been mutually beneficial. Maybe Tucker was exactly what she’d been looking for—an eligible bachelor with a bulging wallet climbing the social ladder.

  With a pang of guilt over his judgmental attitude, he sent a prayer upwards in a soft whisper. “Lord, keep my foot out of my mouth and my nose out of her business. But so help me, if that highfalutin attorney hurts her…well, never mind. You are in control. May all of this draw her closer to You for strength, not me. Her daddy gave her a firm foundation of faith to lean on. For the first time in her life, she’s going to need it. Amen.”

  He kept his comments strictly to business for the rest of the journey. Sarah absorbed what he told her, her big, sky-blue eyes filled with questions as her brain churned the information. At the last stretch of fence, he noticed a large bend in the barbed wire. “You need to see this.”

  They dismounted and examined the integrity of the section. Sarah donned a pair of buckskin gloves to keep the barbs from piercing her fingers. She held the wire as Travis tightened it. “Does this mean we have a squatter?”

  “Hard to tell, Sarah. Could be a deer got an antler stuck in them and yanked. I’ll keep an eye out and have George ride this section over the next few days, just to be sure.”

  She bobbed her head. A quick gust of wintery breeze tussled her ponytail, loosening a few strands to fly in her face.

  He leaned over and swiped them away, his gloved finger brushing her mouth. For a split second he wanted his lips to do the same, but he checked himself. She didn’t belong to him, and besides, why he would desire that fact to change? He scuffed the ground with his boot and mumbled his apology. “Sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “Nothing. Um…I guess for my dirty glove touching your face.” Heat prickles crawled the back of his collar. He shrugged his jacket tighter around his neck and remounted his horse. “Let’s get back so you can check on your daddy.”

  He turned the reins and spurred his steed into a fast trot, away from her silky hair, plump lips, and sweet honeysuckle perfume.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Back at the stables, Sarah guided Angel Hair to her stall. Travis volunteered to take care of the saddle and brush her down along with his mount, Chester.

  “Thanks. I need to go be with Daddy.”

  “May I look in on him in a bit?”

  She scrunched her lips to one side which, he’d learned, meant she pondered his question seriously. “Let me sense his mood first. I don’t want him worrying over things just yet, and if you appear it might agitate him.”

  He bowed his head in compliance. Okay, he’s not my daddy, though there were times he’s felt like one. Sarah touched his arm. “No offense, Travis. Truly. I know he means the world to you. But if you show up in the middle of the day, well…”

  He winked as he caught her train of thought. “He may think the barn’s on fire. Got it. Better to wait until after workin’ hours.”

  She patted his biceps. “Exactly. How about visiting after dinner before we hit the books again?”

  “Sounds good. Thanks.”

  As she sashayed out, the tingle of her touch lingered. Behind him, Manny whistled. Travis twisted to face the sound. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing. Just looks like you two are gettin’ along mighty fine.”

  Travis jammed his finger in the teen’s face. “Leave it, Manny. She’s your boss now. You’d be best to remember that.”

  “Could say the same for you.” His eyes narrowed.

  “Drop it.” Travis pressed his molars together as he led the horses to the trough. He breathed hard through his nose until his blood pressure lowered again as he stroked Chester’s dark mane, refusing to let this woman seep under his skin. She spelled trouble with a capital T. And T stood for Tucker, not Travis. He had enough on his mind trying to keep this place afloat so he could save up for his parents’ inevitable move. Not to mention the time it took out of his work day to shove a lifetime of knowledge down her slender throat until she either got it or became bored with it and flitted off to another challenge.

  His thoughts halted at that revelation. Could it be this turn of events meant no more than a diversion from her uninteresting socialite lifestyle? She’d snared her man, so this emerged as the next project? Or did the potential loss of income freak her out? He reckoned a mixture of both. But doing all of this out of love or duty? Not in her DNA.

  No, he’d been duped. His cheeks burned at the thought. No one could flip one-hundred-eighty degrees overnight, no matter what trauma prompted it. This new Sarah only cloaked the old one, the real one. She pretended to be nice in order to glean information from him. Like an idiot, he’d fallen for her long-lashed wiles.

  Well, he wouldn’t be distracted by her charms anymore. He bet within a month or two, she’d be back in Dallas, sipping champagne, snuggling up to Tucker, and living the highlife. And I’ll be here—taking care of her daddy, my parents, and the horses. Fine. So be it.

  * * *

  Later that evening, Travis climbed the stairs. He’d only been in Mr. Mansfield’s quarters twice before, both times to help him move something heavy. As he ascended, Sarah exited the bedroom and closed the door softly. She jolted when he came into view.

  He held out his hands. “Sorry, ma’am. Didn’t mean to startle you but you said…” His eyes motioned to the entrance to her father’s quarters.

  She blinked. “Yes, right. Go on in. But don’t stay very long. He needs to rest.” She slipped by him and began to descend to the first floor. “Meet you in the den in ten minutes?”

  “Yes’m.”

  The hall filled with honeysuckle in her wake. He shook off the power of her scent, determined to no longer let it affect his judgment. His knuckles tapped on the door. A weak response, somewhat resembling the voice of his boss, responded.

  “Hello, Mr. Mansfield. Sarah said I could slip in and tell you howdy.”

  The man’s face briefly illuminated, then dimmed. He patted the sheets beside his right side. “Come.”

  Travis shuffled towards the bed. “Good to have you home, sir. We all missed you and have been praying for you.”

  His voice rasped. “Except Sarah.”

  Why did he say that? “Oh, no, sir. She missed you the most, I’m sure. And you’d be proud of her. She’s hunkered down and is trying to step into your boots.” He bit his lip. Stupid remark. He amended the thought. “She’ll never fill them, though.”

  Mr. Mansfield shook his head. With breathy pauses, he struggled to speak.“Has to…wear her own. You must… help her…break them in.”

  Travis smiled. Wisdom still glimmered in the old, dim eyes. He took the old man’s paper-thin-skinned hand in h
is. “Yes, sir. I will. For you.” He paused and peered down at his mentor. “Now, you rest and get stronger. I’ll come back to see you in a few days.”

  The man nodded and closed his eyes. The nurse pulled the covers to his chin and motioned for Travis to leave.

  Travis tiptoed from the room. He stopped at the head of the stairs. Below, the light from the den splayed onto the foyer rug. In the quiet of the house he heard the soft whir of the calculator coming from the opened double doors. He’d help Sarah out all right. He wanted to learn more about the financials, so when Miss Priss packed up her marbles and high-tailed it back to Big D, he’d be able to carry on. He owed it to Mr. Mansfield, and he needed to keep the ranch financially stable to accomplish his plans as well.

  All you have to do is be nice, treat her like the boss, and wait it out. She’ll be out of here within a month or two, and you know it. He sucked in a lung-full of air and trotted down the winding staircase. From now on, this would remain all business. He’d forget her shiny blonde hair, her intoxicating fragrance, and her deep mesmerizing eyes. They had a horse breeding business to run.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  The next three weeks fell into a routine. During the day, Sarah busied herself with the affairs of the house while the private nurse cared for her dad. Travis oversaw the ranch duties. Each night after dinner, when the staff had retired to their quarters, the two met with the door wide open—at Travis’ insistence in order to minimize the gossip. They discussed the day, went through the papers, and drank way too much caffeine. At least, that is what Travis told himself as he tossed and turned through the night on his bunk. Had to be the reason he suddenly developed insomnia.

  One evening, he and Sarah sat on the leather couch. She leaned against one arm and he scooted as far into the other as possible. The wind howled outside as sleet splattered the windows. A fire flittered in the fireplace, the hungry flames lapping the logs.

  She ran her fingernail over the seam of the sofa. “Travis, what’s in your head?”

  “Bone, muscle, grey matter…”

  She tossed a small throw pillow at his stomach. “Seriously. You seem…I don’t know. Stand-offish lately.”

  He repositioned himself to face her. “Sarah, you are betrothed to Tucker. As long as we are forced to work in close quarters—”

  She jumped to her feet, hands on hips. “Forced?” Her blue eyes flashed red.

  He raised his hands, fingers spread in defense. “What I mean to say is—”

  “You’d rather I go back to Dallas and hand this all over to you since I know so little and you obviously know so much.”

  He took a long, deep inhale. “Stop. Finishing. My. Sentences.”

  She stared at him, then sputtered out a laugh.

  He felt his forehead heat.

  She fanned her hand in front of her face. “I’m sorry. The way you arched your eyebrow reminded me of my high school principal.”

  Sarah plopped on the rug, her legs crossed, and scratched the bloodhound’s ears. Rex groaned in delight and rolled onto his back.

  Travis felt a twinge of jealousy for the mutt receiving her soft touch. I’d wag my tail too, ol’ boy, if her hands ran down my back. He reached for his coffee and swallowed the remainder of the mug to shove that thought back into his gut. Then he cleared his throat. “All I’m saying is I respect that you are betrothed. I have heard a bit of gossip about the amount of time we are spending in each other’s presence, and I don’t want to mar your reputation.”

  “I see. Thank you, I guess.”

  He rose. “The sleet is not letting up, so shall we get started?” He motioned to the desk piled with papers. They had set up a card table at a right angle for him at his insistence. He preferred two and a half feet of surface between them. “After you, ma’am. 1099s are due in a week, and the hands will want to file for their refunds.”

  She un-pretzeled her long legs and brushed the dog hair from her jeans. “I know we agreed to fire the accountants, but maybe we should have waited until after April fifteenth.”

  “And how much more would they have skimmed by then?”

  “True. Are you sure your tax man can handle this?”

  He stretched. “Think so. He did mom and dad’s farm before they sold off most of the land.”

  “Why did they do that?”

  By the expression on her face, she seemed genuinely concerned. Had she really changed? He filed that in the back of his brain and proceeded to give her the short answer. “They adopted me and my sister late in life, so now that they are older and since I have a full-time job here, well…guess it ended up to be too much for them to handle.” He knew his cheeks reddened and he hated it.

  Sympathy oozed from her eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. Take the weekend off and go see them.”

  “Thank you, but we’ll see.”

  She laid a hand on his arm. “You work too hard, Travis. Go see your folks.”

  He blinked and walked to the desk. “If we can pull the financials together within the week, I’m sure he can finish it in plenty of time so we don’t have to file an extension, as long as the oil income reports come in soon. Then, maybe you can take off and go see Tucker.”

  “Are you that ready to kick me back to Dallas? That’s not happening, Travis.” She waltzed past him and wiggled her left hand. “In case you hadn’t noticed, it’s bare again.”

  He stopped, his mouth dangling open. “I…um…no, I hadn’t.” He swallowed hard. “I am sorry, Sarah. Maybe he will come to his senses.”

  Sarah spun to face him. “I broke it off with him. Not the other way around.” She sat down and tented her fingers under her nose. Her eyes reddened.

  He perched on the edge of the writing table and asked in a soft voice. “You okay?”

  She stiffened. “Absolutely. The man is a shallow cad. He couldn’t grasp the notion that I am needed here.”

  Travis held his tongue. In his way of thinking, her presence wasn’t necessary. He and the men could run things. But the way her father’s face lifted at the sound of her voice, Travis knew Sarah remained the best medicine to aid the old man’s recovery. That, and the constant prayers of the community, kept Mr. Mansfield going. “Okay. So these forms are not going to fill themselves in, are they? If you are up to it, let’s get started.”

  She wiggled to attention, her face stone serious. “Good enough.”

  But her mind didn’t appear to be on the accounting, and several times, Travis heard her sniffle. He finally laid down his pencil. “Sarah. Let’s call it a night.”

  She wiped under her eyes. “Can we just talk a while? I need that.”

  The shakiness in her voice startled him. “I’m not an expert on love advice. Maybe Maria or Cook—”

  “No, I want a man’s perspective.” She stopped. “I did it again, didn’t I? Cut you off.”

  Travis shrugged. He leaned back in the secretary chair and crossed his arms. “Okay. You talk, I’ll listen.” He grabbed a box of tissues. “In case you want one. Want me to bring you some hot tea and toast?”

  She took two tissues and dabbed her cheeks. “No, thanks. Not hungry.”

  “Oh, okay.” He looked away with his brow knitted.

  She gave him a brief smile. “I’ve made you uncomfortable, haven’t I? I’m sorry. You are the best, Travis. Sorry I never noticed that before.” She rose, came up behind him, and laced her arms around his neck. His nose filled with honeysuckle as she hugged him.

  Oh, oh. He sent up a quick prayer for discernment and wisdom. He would not take advantage of her vulnerability. No way. Satan, back off. He untwisted her hands and stood. “Sarah, maybe it’s Tucker you need to talk with, not me.”

  He picked up his coffee cup and exited the room, then the house, oblivious to the sleet pellets hammering his back as he made his way to the solitude of his bunk.

  * * *

  Sarah pulled the curtains taut against the window and pouted. Stupid move, wanting to feel the comfort of a man close to he
r. And with Travis, of all people. He spurned her just as he did the women at the Christmas dance, as if females were toxic. What waltzed through his head?

  She tried to convince herself he represented a challenge, nothing more. At first, she had tried to schmooze him to make Tucker jealous enough to come dashing in as her gallant knight in his Italian steel steed with revving horsepower. Well, that hadn’t worked. Instead, Tucker had given her the ultimatum. The ranch or him. How dare he? And now, Travis shunned her, too?

  When it came to men, she once felt competent in her ability to wield her wiles. Now, she felt inept. How could Tucker have possibly wiggled off her hook? She’d snared him good. Used every trick in her feminine arsenal to make the catch, raising her esteem in the eyes of her sorority sisters as she reeled him to shore. A pang of emptiness hit her heart.

  How shallow and spoiled she’d been. And stupid to think her looks and social manners could cement their relationship for the next forty or fifty years. Most likely, within five years, they’d have tired of each other and then either led separate lives or made the divorce attorneys a bunch of money over a nasty, drawn-out marital severance.

  And Travis? Well, no sense going there. Definitely not her type. So why did those gold-flecked eyes of his make her pulse quicken? And why did his desire to not be closer to her sting?

  “Well, at least I have you, boy.” She sat back on the floor and petted Rex as tears streamed down her cheeks. “Oh, Rex. It’s all fallen apart and I don’t know how to glue it back together. Perhaps my dream life wasn’t supposed to happen after all.”

  She threw herself over the old hound’s body and wept until she fell asleep with the dog’s belly as her pillow.

  * * *

  At sunrise, Travis had just started down the path from the bunkhouse to the stables when Maria caught him. Her dark brown eyes reflected her worry. “Come. Miss Sarah. You see.”

  He knitted his eyebrows and hastened his step as he followed her into the main house. She stopped at the threshold of the den and pointed.

  The mistress of the house lay curled like a baby on the rug next to the fireplace. Why had she slept here all night? His eyes flashed to the liquor cabinet. Nope. No empty bottles or toppled glasses. She hadn’t gone off the deep end over Tucker.