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Big Sky Romance Collection

Page 37

by Denise Hunter


  Still, it was bittersweet, because bedtime stories were Daddy territory, and Olivia was eating it up. Shay listened until her foot protested, then she returned to her room, heaviness weighing her steps.

  A month and a half into their arrangement, and Travis had fit right into their little family. He sometimes fixed breakfast on Saturday mornings. He often grilled out on Sunday afternoons. He kept up her ranch, managed his dad’s books, and checked in with Jacob on the day-to-day operations of the Barr M. He took Olivia grocery shopping on Sunday evenings and saw to it there was money in the account for bills. All without a whisper of complaint.

  Anyone looking in from the outside would think it was real, this little family. If Shay let herself, she’d believe it too. Already she wondered if Olivia had forgotten this was a short-term arrangement. That Travis would be leaving before Thanksgiving, and then it would be just the two of them again.

  The thought set a hollow spot in her middle, but she denied it had anything to do with feelings for Travis. It was a matter of habit. She’d gotten accustomed to having him around, having his help. It was just going to be harder when he left.

  Harder to work the ranch, harder to pay the bills. At least she’d have a little extra income in the spring. Manny had spoken to Hank Peterson, and he had offered her a part-time job starting in April. She’d be too busy and tired to notice Travis was gone.

  Monday, August thirteenth, marked the seventh week since she’d broken her foot and also her birthday. She couldn’t think of anything she wanted more than the freedom to walk unaided.

  Abigail drove her to see Dr. Garvin again, and this time he gave her permission to burn her crutches. Tempting as it was, she returned them for the next unfortunate victim and walked gingerly to Abigail’s car, beaming from ear to ear.

  “You look like you won a million bucks,” Abigail said, turning out onto Main Street.

  “Happy birthday to me!” Shay sang. “I can drive, I can walk, I can ride, I can take a bath! I cannot wait to soak in the tub again! I can feed my own horses, clean out my own barn, ride my own circle . . .”

  “Never saw anyone so eager to get back to work. Or maybe you’re eager for time in the saddle with a certain cowboy.”

  “Ha! Couldn’t be further from the truth.”

  “I don’t know.” Abigail turned a playful smile her way. “I think there’s something there.”

  “Just three and a half months and it’ll be over. That’s all I want.”

  “If you say so.”

  “What happened to all that suspicion? What happened to ‘Be careful, Shay. How do we know his real intentions? Why’s he doing this for so little in return?’ ”

  Abigail gave a mock glare. “I do not sound like that. Anyway, that wasn’t suspicion, it was caution—always a good thing. But my instincts tell me Travis is all right. I know he hurt you, though.”

  “Blame right.”

  “Just don’t write him off too soon is all I’m saying. Maybe God brought him back here for a reason.”

  Shay didn’t respond. She wasn’t wasting a minute of this glorious afternoon bickering about Travis. She was going to go home and run around the house several times—just because she could.

  A few minutes later they pulled into her drive. The sun had sunk behind the mountains, taking its scorching heat with it. Maybe she’d take Olivia somewhere. Fishing or to the Dairy Freeze. She could drive now! She was almost giddy with the thought of freedom.

  Abigail pulled up to the house and turned off the engine. “Hey, can I borrow your lawn hose? Our garden’s drying up, and our hose isn’t long enough.”

  “Sure.” Shay exited the car, and Abigail followed her around back. She could get the hose herself. Her foot didn’t even hurt when she put her weight on it, though the muscles felt a little wobbly. That was normal, according to—

  “Happy birthday!”

  Shay stopped short. Abigail bumped into her, laughing. A dozen people littered her backyard. Olivia, Travis, Miss Lucy, Maddy, Wade, Annie Stevens and her sister Sierra, and Wade’s best friend, Dylan.

  “Oh my word!” Shay put her hand over her racing heart. “I did not expect that! Thanks, everyone.”

  Olivia approached, hugging her. “Are you surprised, Mom?” Her daughter pulled her toward the decorated tables.

  “I had no idea.” She looked at Abigail. “You trickster.”

  Abigail shrugged as Wade joined her. He wrapped his arm around her waist. “Lady knows how to keep a secret.” He pecked her on the cheek.

  Blue tablecloths and colorful balloons decorated the tables. A “HAPPY BIRTHDAY” banner stretched across the old laundry line.

  Travis stood at the open grill where, judging by the heavenly smell, he was cooking hamburgers.

  “Happy birthday, dear,” Miss Lucy said, taking Abigail and Wade’s spot beside her.

  Her birthday normally passed without fuss. A card from Olivia, a call from Miss Lucy. And she’d never, not in all her life, had a party. “Who did all this?”

  “Why, it was Travis. He’s been planning it for weeks. And I see you’re off your crutches.”

  “Good as new.” She glanced at Travis. He was flipping burgers, laughing at something Dylan said. He wore one of his Sunday shirts, a blue plaid button-up.

  Shay made the rounds, thanking everyone for coming. She wasn’t much on being the main event, but her spirits were high on her new mobility. Also, she was people-starved from being trapped at home, and this party was just what she needed.

  Everyone was talking, laughing, having a great time. Olivia and Maddy lay on their bellies on the patio, writing happy birthday messages with sidewalk chalk.

  Travis caught her eye over Miss Lucy’s head. He smiled as he scooped the burgers onto a big platter.

  Shay excused herself and made her way to the grill. “Word has it you’re responsible for all this,” she said when she reached his side.

  “Oh yeah?”

  The fat burgers dripped with thick melting cheese, just the way she liked them.

  “Didn’t have to go to all this trouble.”

  “Wanted to.” He’d no sooner set the last burger on the platter than Abigail swooped by and took it.

  “Well . . . thanks.” That wasn’t so hard. She could be nice. Especially when he’d been so thoughtful.

  He turned off the grill and closed the lid. “See you got your walking license.”

  “Yep. ’Fraid you’ll have to put up with me all day from now on.”

  His eyes slitted, and he tilted his head. “You’re looking to boss me around, aren’t you?”

  Shay smiled. “Better believe it.”

  “Come ’n’ get it!” Wade called, and the friends swarmed the tables like ants to a cookie crumb.

  Her neighbors dived into the food while Dylan entertained them with stories from Texas. He and Travis had known each other from the rodeo circuit and seemed to have hit it off. Shay caught Dylan checking out Annie Stevens whenever she wasn’t looking. He flirted with her too, but she rebuffed him at every turn. Shay wondered if the cowboy had finally met his match.

  After they ate, Shay opened presents while Abigail blinded her with the flash of her new camera. Miss Lucy had made a doll that looked just like Shay, with long layered brown hair, olive skin, and a miniature splint on her foot.

  “A souvenir of your journey this summer,” Miss Lucy said.

  “Where’s the wedding veil?” Dylan asked, making everyone laugh.

  Abigail, Wade, and Maddy gave her a basket of Citrus Dream bath bubbles and gels. She opened a bottle and took a whiff. “Mmm, my favorite!”

  “Picked it out myself,” Wade said.

  Abigail elbowed him. “Did not.” She addressed Shay. “I know you’ve been looking forward to your baths.”

  She opened Olivia’s next. Her daughter had made her a beaded necklace, tiny teak hearts on a corded strand, separated by hand-tied knots, with a larger silver heart in the center. “I love it, hon. You know my
taste.”

  “Travis helped me order the silver piece.”

  “It’s perfect.” Shay turned around and lifted her hair so Olivia could fasten it.

  She unwrapped the rest of her presents: a gift certificate from Movie Magic from her church friends; a coupon for a free cut and style from Ida Franklin, who worked at the Hair Barn; and a bottle of Geritol from Dylan—with a Mocha Moose gift certificate tucked inside the card to ease the blow.

  After the presents Travis strummed some songs on his guitar, playing requests, while Dylan made up lyrics that had everyone laughing until their stomachs hurt.

  By the time their company left, darkness had fallen. Fireflies twinkled in the yard and beyond, a quiet symphony of light. The cool evening air pebbled Shay’s skin. She and Olivia helped Travis clean up. Their neighbors had scarfed down all the burgers, and only a couple pieces of Abigail’s lemon cake remained.

  After cleanup, Shay tucked Olivia into bed. She raved over her new necklace, and they giggled over Dylan’s antics. After she kissed her daughter good night, she drew a bath, filled it with her new citrus bubbles, and soaked until the water grew tepid.

  When she was dry and dressed in her nightshirt, she found Travis finishing the dishes.

  “I could’ve done those in the morning,” she said.

  “Don’t have to now.”

  She watched him dry the hamburger platter and recalled something Abigail had said once. There’s nothing sexier than a man with a dish towel in his hand. Watching Travis now, Shay had to agree.

  He shelved the platter in a high cupboard, and she followed the broad line of his shoulders down to his trim waist and beyond. He always did have a nice—

  “This go here?”

  She jerked her eyes away. “Uh, yeah.”

  What was she thinking? She’d been without a man too long, that was all. She missed the intimacy of marriage. She shook her head and turned toward her room.

  “Where you going?”

  “Bed. I’m wiped out.”

  “Wait.” He dried his hands. “Haven’t given you my present.”

  She stopped. “The party was more than I—”

  But he was already past her, in the living room, pulling a bag from behind the sofa. “Happy birthday.”

  Shay took the large brown sack.

  “Sorry about the bag. Not much for wrapping.” He gestured to the sofa, then sank down beside her, his knee grazing hers.

  Shay pulled out a box and set it on her lap. She lifted the lid. The smell of good leather wafted upward. Tucked in a nest of beige tissue paper was a luxurious pair of Chippewa boots.

  “Travis . . .” She ran her fingers over the supple brown leather. The soles were nonslip, stitched on, not glued. Leather lined the interior of the boots. “This is too much.”

  She’d never had boots this fancy, had only eyed them in the catalog at Pappy’s Market, dreaming.

  He lifted one of the boots from its nest. “Look . . . steel toed.” He smiled at her. “No more broken feet. Try ’em on.”

  She wanted to. Bad. But it was too much. A real husband might spend this much on his wife’s birthday. But Travis wasn’t her real husband. A weight hit the bottom of her stomach. She told herself it was because she had to refuse the boots.

  “It was real thoughtful, Travis, but—”

  “No way. I ruined your boots, and I promised you a new pair. Now that your foot’s not the size of a barn, you’ll be needing them.”

  “Mine were nowhere near this quality and you know it.”

  “Which is how you ended up with a broken foot. Now put ’em on. Been waiting weeks for this.”

  He was like a kid on Christmas morning, his gray eyes dancing, an eager grin tugging his lips.

  She eyed the beautiful boots. Well, he had promised her a new pair. She bit her lip. And if he really wanted her to have them . . .

  “Go on. I wanna see if they fit.”

  She took the boot and slid her good foot into it, tugging the leather pull-on straps. She slid the other boot on and stood. The insoles cushioned her feet and supported her arches. She took a few steps.

  “They’re the same size as your old ones, but if they don’t fit, I kept the receipt. They said it wouldn’t be a problem to send them back.”

  “You are not sending these back.” She offered a grin. “I may even sleep in them tonight.”

  She was rewarded with a smile that reminded her of the boy he’d been way back when. When he was playful and impulsive and more than a little passionate.

  She took another spin around the room, appreciating the fine quality and perfect fit. They were heavier than her old ones because of the steel toes, but not cumbersome.

  “You like them?”

  “Do I ever. Don’t know how I’ll go backward after these wear out. I’ll be utterly spoiled.”

  “They should last awhile.”

  She enjoyed the boots for another minute, then sat down and tugged them off. She placed them by the front door, reminding herself she’d be back to her chores bright and early.

  A yawn slipped out. “It’s late.” She put away the bag and box while Travis retrieved his pillow.

  She handed him the worn quilt. “Thanks, Travis. For the boots, the party . . . everything.” She was going to kiss him on the cheek. Her heels came off the floor. Then she thought better of it. She lowered her heels, balled her hands into fists, and crossed her arms for good measure.

  He was looking at her. Or rather, looking right through her, as if he knew what she’d almost done. “My pleasure.” His voice was low and raspy. “Hope it was a good birthday.”

  “The best in years.” She wondered if she should’ve admitted it, but she’d never been one to hold back her thoughts.

  He smiled. “Good. You deserve it.”

  She didn’t know about that, but she wasn’t looking a gift horse in the mouth. “Well. Good night.”

  “ ’Night.”

  She felt his eyes on her as she walked toward her room, as she pushed the door closed, and even long into the night as she lay staring at the ceiling, wondering what the future held.

  24

  He was driving down a long stretch of highway, his foot pressing hard on the accelerator. He had to get there. He was going to be too late. His heart kicked against his ribs painfully. Fear sucked the air from his mouth, drying it.

  The green sign said thirty-two more miles, but hadn’t the last sign said only seventeen? Made no sense. How could he be farther away?

  Then he saw it: the town, just ahead. He flew toward it, the landscape racing past. But it was getting no closer, always just out of reach.

  Then he heard a noise, and his truck shuddered. He coasted to a halt, and when he left the truck, he entered a wedding chapel. A crowd filled the church, their backs to him. At the altar, Shay stood with another man, her long white gown trailing behind her.

  He had to stop her. A protest formed in his mind, on his tongue. No, Shay, don’t do it! I love you! But the words were like blanks from a gun.

  Hot air stuffed his lungs. He ran toward her, but the aisle had become a treadmill. Running, running, running. Please! I’m sorry! Soundless pleas swelled inside him until he thought he’d burst with the pressure.

  And then the man kissed her. The wedding was over. She turned around then and he saw something in her arms. A bundle. A baby. She looked directly at him, and that’s when he knew—he’d lost her forever.

  Something woke Shay. She became aware without opening her eyes. She turned and pulled the quilt up. Even through the closed door she often heard Travis snoring. He liked to play hymns on his guitar before bed, and those sounds also leaked through the door. Instead of annoying her, however, the melodic strumming had become a comforting lullaby, reminding her of God’s presence.

  Had to go back to sleep. Morning couldn’t be far away. She wouldn’t open her eyes and check. She nestled into the mattress, turning onto her stomach. In the five weeks since she’d gotten he
r splint off, she’d relished her old sleeping position. Just as she’d relished hearing the creak of saddle leather, seeing the calves grow before her eyes, smelling the sweet alfalfa and sagebrush on the open range.

  Ranching with Travis was different from working with Manny. Way different. Travis was confident, didn’t need to be told what to do, not even close. A few times she’d even asked his opinion. She knew her cattle, but he had an affinity with them that belied the time he’d been here. He knew their markings and which calf belonged to which mother.

  They’d fallen into a rhythm, working side by side. No need for words.

  It was different than it had been with Garrett too. Her ex-husband had a mind of his own and liked to tell her what to do even though she was as competent as he. It used to annoy the dickens out of her. Wasn’t it her ranch, passed down from her parents? Hadn’t she worked it since she was knee high? But it didn’t matter. Garrett wanted her to know he was in charge. She’d argued at first, but as Olivia grew older, Shay had gone along with the program to keep peace. Anything she had to do to hold their marriage together.

  So much for that. He’d left anyway, and she’d lost a little of herself in the process.

  Another sound came from beyond her door. More like a mumble than a snore. She perked her ears, lifted her head from the pillow. There was nothing but the distant hum of her old refrigerator. The clock read 3:46. She was about to lie back down when she heard it again.

  A word, Travis’s voice. Who was he talking to? Surely he wasn’t on the phone at this hour. She thought of the woman who’d called a couple months before. He hadn’t mentioned her, and as far as she knew, he hadn’t been calling her.

  Unless he was calling in the middle of the night. Sneaking around, pretending to be the loyal husband, all the while carrying on a long-distance relationship, keeping this Ella woman on the sidelines just in case the marriage didn’t work out. Or simply biding his time until their arrangement was over.

  The thought opened a void in her belly, wide, dark, and aching. She told herself it was nothing, this hollow feeling. It was the thought of betrayal that troubled her, not any feelings she might still have.

 

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