by Carly Bloom
JD and Travis looked at each other and shrugged, and then JD adjusted his hat and shook his head with a smirk. “You do what you’ve got to do, Mighty Mack. And I was just leaving for another site anyway.”
Bubba stepped out. “What’s up? Are we meeting at Maggie’s for the game tomorrow?”
“Shush, Bubba,” Maggie said as he closed the door behind him. “I don’t want Anna to hear.” The absolute last thing she wanted was Anna rubbing all over Travis on her own damn couch.
“She went upstairs to her bedroom to pout about something,” Bubba said. “I’ll bring some wings and beer tomorrow. Trista is going to her sister’s place in Round Rock. That means I’ll be both hot and single. Tell all your friends.”
Travis shuffled from one foot to the other. “So, about Austin…”
“I promised I’d take brownies to book club. I’ll definitely need to leave early, but it sounds like fun! I’ll go.”
“Fantastic,” Travis said.
Maggie started to turn, but then remembered about the phone number. “I didn’t realize it until this morning, but I don’t have your phone number.”
“I have it,” Bubba said, pulling out his phone.
“No, wait!” Travis said. “New number. I got it this morning. I need to give it to everybody.”
After they’d exchanged contact info, Bubba took off, leaving them alone.
“Will you be wearing lingerie tomorrow night?” he asked.
Her face erupted into flames. How did he know she’d bought new lingerie? “Pardon?”
“Spurs PJ’s. Henry will want to know.”
God. She felt stupid. “Sure. We’ll make it another pajama party.”
Travis did that magic trick—the one where a dimple appeared out of nowhere in his left cheek, nearly obscured by his beard. Then he took off his flannel shirt and tied it around his waist. “Maybe I’ll wear some, too,” he said casually. “Although I don’t usually sleep in any.”
And with that, the jerk sauntered off with a shovel perched over his shoulder. He looked back to see if she was watching, and dang it, she was.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The Texas Farmer’s Market was a madhouse of activity. Travis didn’t know what he’d expected—booths of zucchini and onions maybe. But it was so much more than that. In addition to every fruit and vegetable in season, there were eggs, meats of every variety, honey, cheeses, herbs, and even growler stations from local breweries.
Taking over the Rancho Canada Verde stand was easy. Martinez Meat Market had processed several cows, keeping a percentage for themselves. Everything had been packaged, labeled, and frozen solid before being loaded into coolers. Claire had even made a banner with the Happy Trails’ brand as a logo.
It looked official.
Luckily, Claire worked the counter, interacting with customers who wanted to know why the sign said HAPPY TRAILS instead of RANCHO CANADA VERDE.
“That’s right,” Claire said to a customer. “Same Black Angus beef. Raised on a small farm right next to Rancho Canada Verde. All natural and grass fed. Rancho Canada Verde is thrilled to endorse Happy Trails beef products.”
“Travis, we need a chuck roast,” Maggie said. Her eyes twinkled. “This is fun, right? Maybe I could sell some of Honey’s apples here, you know, if my neighbor ever gets his cows under control.”
Travis ignored the side-eye she gave him, weighed the roast, marked it, and handed it directly to the customer, a young woman in tie-dye. “Enjoy,” he said. “It’s grass and apple fed. You won’t find that just anywhere.”
“Cool.”
Maggie snorted and poked Travis in the ribs. “Watch it. This is Austin. Apple-fed beef will become a trend.”
“Beef bones,” Claire said. “And move it. We’ve got a line.”
Travis reached in and grabbed a package. The beef bones were a surprising hit. Maggie said folks made broth out of them, that it was good for fortifying the immune system and aided healing. He might give it a try. It seemed like Henry had the sniffles every other week.
“Here’s a bag!” Henry shouted.
It was his job to bag the merchandise, or at least hold the bag open for Claire. And he was obviously having the time of his life.
“You planning on growing into that hat?” Maggie asked him.
Gerome had given Henry a gigantic cowboy hat. “I think I already did,” he said, wiggling the hat down over his ears. “See?”
Maggie laughed, then her eyes landed on Travis. “And what about you, cowboy? It looks like you’ve grown into yours.”
Gerome had told him he couldn’t sell Black Angus beef while wearing a knit cap like a hippie. And then he’d pulled out a very nice straw Stetson. He’d dropped it on the ground and stepped on the brim before handing it over…so it doesn’t look like you just bought it at a department store.
As if reading his mind, Maggie reached up and gave his beard a slight tug, which sent a tingle up and down his spine. “I like it,” she whispered. “I like it a lot.”
Her brown eyes darkened, and the tips of her ears turned pink.
Okay. The woman liked a man in a cowboy hat. Good to know.
“Excuse me,” a man asked. “Do you raise turkeys at Happy Trails?”
“Turkeys? Um, no. Sorry,” Travis said.
“That’s too bad. We used to get our Thanksgiving bird from a small farmer near Moulton. We’re looking for someplace closer.”
“I’m pretty sure you can get one at your local grocery store,” Travis said.
The man raised his eyebrows. “Do you know the conditions those turkeys are raised in? We don’t eat meat that’s been tortured. We’re looking for naturally fed, free-range turkeys. Pigs and chickens, too.”
Claire cut in. “And you can be sure that Happy Trails cattle are completely grass fed on one hundred and fifty acres of beautiful Texas Hill Country property. They drink the sweet, crystal-clear water of the Pedernales River, and are not treated with hormones or antibiotics, nor are they finished on corn in feed lots.”
Damn. The woman knew her spiel. And it was obvious she felt strongly about it. Just like her daddy.
“Humane husbandry? Like Rancho Canada Verde?” the man asked.
Travis could answer this one. The cattle had gotten used to eating hay in the pens in preparation for the roundup. All they had to do was close the gate behind them, and then Gerome had shown him how to single out the ones they wanted in the shoot. “They’re rounded up calmly,” he said. “No prods. No loud noises. Heck, we don’t even make eye contact—”
“Completely humane,” Claire finished. She gave him a look that said, Don’t bore them with the details—these people do not realize the animals get slaughtered before they eat them.
He shut his mouth. She was probably right. People didn’t want to know the truth about where their meat came from. But most folks ate meat, and there were lots of ways to raise it. Most of those ways were downright awful, and Gerome Kowalski had opened Travis’s eyes. It was fascinating to learn about the humane husbandry Rancho Canada Verde was known for. Roundups could be extremely stressful for animals unless done a certain way. Gerome had taught him how to stand quietly where you didn’t want the cow to go. You didn’t look at it directly—just watched with your peripheral vision. No sudden moves while you slowly shuffled forward, while your buddies did the same, until the animal had no place left to go but the shoot. Then you closed the traps behind it, one by one, until it walked on into the trailer, happily chewing hay the whole time.
Gerome had told Travis he had a knack for it.
“And do you help?” the man’s wife asked Henry.
“Yes ma’am,” Henry said. His hat wobbled as he vigorously nodded his head. He hooked his thumbs in his belt and puffed out his little chest. “Happy Trails is my ranch.”
* * *
This morning the social worker had called: “Henry has no family other than you and his biological father.” Travis had felt like collapsing beneath the wei
ght of those words, and it wasn’t until he exhaled that he realized it was from relief. There was no way he would have sent Henry off to live with strangers. His heart had already decided that.
Being all Henry had in the world might be terrifying, but they were family, and one way or another, they’d make it work.
But where would they make it work?
Travis climbed in his truck as a guy on a bike rode past in lime green skinny jeans and an ugly argyle sweater. “Thanks for the beef, man!”
Travis waved. The dude’s man-bun was coming loose, but he was doing his best to keep Austin weird. Before Travis knew it, he’d shouted, “See you next month!”
Next month. He wanted to come back next month.
What was it Henry had said earlier? Happy Trails is my ranch. What right did Travis have to take him away from it?
None. He had no right to take Henry away from the ranch. And he realized he didn’t want to. Henry had been so cute peddling beef. In fact, Travis wasn’t sure who’d drawn more customers: Claire in her tight rhinestone-studded jeans, or Henry in his ten-gallon hat.
The farmer’s market had given Travis all sorts of crazy ideas about raising free-range turkeys and chickens, goats, bees…maybe even planting a lavender patch. A lady had asked him about school field trips and eco-tourism. His mind was humming with fantastical notions. He couldn’t wait to talk to Maggie about it. She’d left early and taken Henry with her. She should have dropped him off with Mrs. Garza by now.
He and Maggie had made such a good team today. Heck, they made a pretty good team as landscapers, too, even though Maggie was a micromanager to the nth degree and couldn’t keep her nose out of his business. He liked her nose. And the thought of her being Suzy Homemaker and baking brownies for book club put a grin on his face.
It also gave him an idea. He pulled out his old phone; the one he’d stashed in his glove compartment, so it wouldn’t tempt him. The wolf’s phone.
Just one last time…
What are you doing today? Being a good girl?
He started the truck.
Ping!
That was fast.
A very good girl. I’m about to bake brownies.
He couldn’t answer her right away. She needed to wait for it, worrying that bottom lip of hers while wondering what he’d make her do. And what would he make her do? A sly grin spread slowly across his face.
Do you cook often?
The response was immediate. HA HA HA HA HA. (That means nope.)
Do you have an apron?
Since she still probably had Honey’s dentures in a jar somewhere—he shuddered a little—she probably also had an apron. Although like Honey’s dentures, she’d probably never worn it.
Yes.
Bingo.
Good. Wear it. And nothing else.
He was very pleased with himself.
Nothing?
Nothing.
He was grinning from ear to ear when he decided to use the wolf’s phone for good, instead of evil, and search for a nearby place to eat. Since this was Austin, he started to narrow the search by specifying non-vegan. But then he stopped. After all he’d learned about raising beef, did he really want to eat meat if he didn’t know where it came from? He tailored the search by adding the words local, organic, and beef.
Hot damn. A grass-fed burger joint was ten minutes away. He headed for South Lamar Street, satisfied that he was about to enjoy a good meal while Little Red Riding Hood baked brownies in her birthday suit. A stream of X-rated images flowed through his mind. He particularly liked the one where Maggie was bent over, retrieving brownies from the oven. He was able to entertain himself with that all the way to the restaurant.
The parking lot was packed. A big white pickup caught his eye. White pickups weren’t a rarity, but this one had the L&M Construction logo on its door. What was JD doing in Austin? Travis headed inside, happy he wouldn’t have to eat alone.
There were three or four folks in line in front of him, so he looked around. All the indoor tables were full and there was no sign of JD. He must be sitting outside. Travis went back to examining the menu, which had his mouth watering with its pictures of thick, juicy burgers.
It was almost his turn to order when his phone rang. It was Mrs. Garza. “Everything going okay?” Travis asked.
He expected her to give him a blow-by-blow of what Henry was doing because that’s what she usually did. But all she said was, “We’re fine, Mr. Blake. But when are you coming home?”
She’d never called him Mr. Blake before. And her voice was filled with tension.
“I’m grabbing a bite to eat, then I’ll be on my way. You sure everything’s okay? I can skip lunch and come straight home.”
Travis had a bad feeling. Maybe Henry was sick.
“Everything is fine now, but earlier—”
“What happened earlier?” Had there been a fire? Had Henry choked on a pretzel? Did he have a rock up his nose? The list of alarming things that had possibly gone wrong was endless.
“It’s just that we had a visitor.”
Who would be stopping by to visit?
“Your brother, Scott,” Mrs. Garza continued. “I didn’t know what to do. I told him he’d have to come back later. Was that okay?”
There it was. The clenching of dread in his belly, the tightening of the noose around his neck. Scott must have gotten out early.
“Did he see Henry?”
“No. He was upstairs, and I didn’t invite your brother in.”
“You did the right thing, Mrs. Garza.”
“Should I let you know if he comes back?”
“Yes, ma’am. Please do. I’ll be home as soon as I can.”
Travis wasn’t hungry anymore, but it was his turn at the counter, so he mechanically ordered. Then he took his number and wandered out to the patio. He felt so numb he could hardly tell which way his feet carried him. There was no way he could let Scott take Henry. But did he have any right to stop him?
A white Stetson stood out among the crowd, and the sight of it calmed his raw, nervous energy. He was in bad need of a friend. Travis waved, but JD didn’t see him. He didn’t want to shout across the restaurant, so he quietly wove in and out of the tables, carrying his number and making his way toward JD, who was nursing an ice-cold beer. There was a second bottle on the table, so maybe JD wasn’t alone. Didn’t Maggie say he was seeing a lady in Austin? Travis hesitated. He didn’t want to bust up a lunch date.
While he stood indecisive, a man in a gray suit entered the patio from the parking lot. JD looked up and smiled at the guy, who had a sharp haircut to match his suit.
Not the type of guy JD usually hung out with. Maybe this was a business lunch.
He expected JD to push his chair back, remove his hat, and rise for a handshake like the gentleman cowboy he was. But JD remained in his seat, smiling, as the newcomer walked over. He removed the cap from the second bottle of beer and pushed it toward the man just as he leaned over and gave JD a kiss. On the lips.
Travis’s mind clicked along, gears grinding, and arrived at the only logical conclusion. JD was obviously not out. At least not to folks in Big Verde. He wouldn’t appreciate being spotted by Travis. Maybe there was a free table inside now. Or fuck it, maybe he should just cancel his order and leave.
JD looked up just as Travis was about to turn. Their eyes locked.
Nothing to do now but smile and act normal. He waved and walked to their table.
The other man looked to see who JD was gawking at.
“Hi, JD,” Travis said as normally as he could muster. “What are you doing in Austin today?” He sure hoped his outside didn’t match his inside. And that his voice only sounded unusually high in his own ears.
JD stood. Travis expected him to pull the brim of his hat down, but he didn’t. Good for him. The other man stood, too, and held out his hand. “Hi, I’m Gabriel Castro.”
Travis shook Gabriel’s hand and waited for JD to finally find his voice
.
“Gabriel, this is Travis Blake. He’s from Big Verde.”
A huge smile appeared on Gabriel’s face. “Nice to meet you.”
Awkwardness descended in the form of silence. Travis wished there was a way to act as if a big secret hadn’t just been unwittingly revealed, but saying, How ’bout them Spurs? seemed like a bad idea. In fact, he should probably find another table.
“Well, it was nice to meet you, Gabriel. I’ll see you later, JD.”
JD still didn’t have a speck of color in his face. Even his lips were white. Did he think Travis was going to run back to Big Verde and blab?
“I haven’t met many of JD’s friends,” Gabriel said. “Why don’t you join us?”
JD’s mouth tightened into a straight line.
“I don’t know…”
A man arrived with a tray holding a gigantic double hamburger and a side of onion rings. “Number eighty-nine?”
“That’s me,” Travis replied.
“Sit with us,” Gabriel said. “There’s plenty of room. No need to take up another table.”
The server set his food down and hurried off. It would be more awkward to leave than to just graciously accept Gabriel’s offer.
“Thanks,” he said, taking a seat. JD and Gabriel followed his lead and sat down, as well. “I wasn’t looking forward to eating by myself. I saw JD’s truck in the parking lot and came in here looking for him. I’ve been at the farmer’s market.”
Gabriel began snatching fries out of JD’s basket. “No problem.” Then he elbowed JD. “Thanks for waiting, cowboy. Did you even order me a burger?”
“You can have mine. I’m not hungry anymore.” Only the lower half of JD’s face was visible. But he looked pissed.
“Aw, come on,” Gabriel said with twinkling eyes and a smile that lit up the room. “Eat up, man. It’s your coming-out party.”
Travis somehow managed to hold back a grin.
JD lifted the brim of his hat and narrowed his eyes at Gabriel. “This isn’t anything to joke about.”
Gabriel sighed. “I know, cowboy. But aren’t you at least a little relieved?”