by Ginna Gray
Rebecca stared at him, her heart doing a crazy dance in her chest. "You...you mean you're going to work here? In Crockett? You're going to live here?"
Smiling tenderly, Travis placed one finger beneath her chin and lifted her sagging jaw. His eyes twinkled with amusement and love. "That's right. It seemed like the wisest thing to do. If d be kind of a tough commute from D.C. every day," he teased. "Besides, I've already given up my apartment there."
"I can't believe this. I just can't believe it," she babbled.
"Why not? I have a law degree. All I have to do is pass the Texas Bar and I'm set. Anyway, I don't know why you're so surprised. I told you that I was thinking of making a change."
"Yes, but for another exciting job. Then, when you went back to the Bureau, I figured you'd changed your mind. I never expected you to move back to Crockett."
"I gave my notice as soon as I went back, but I got involved in a touchy assignment and couldn't shake loose as quickly as I'd planned."
Rebecca shook her head as though to clear it. "You love the excitement and challenge of being an agent. Why would you give that up to practice law here?"
Travis sighed. "We've been through all this before." Cupping her face in his hand, he looked into her eyes.' 'Now listen up, love of my life, because I'm only going to say this one more time. First of all, I was getting tired of risking life and limb on undercover assignments and of moving around all the time. I guess I'm getting too old for that kind of stuff. Or maybe I've just grown up. I want what Dad and Uncle Joe have—a stable life, a home and family, old friends and neighbors around." He paused, and his voice lowered to a husky caress. "Most of all... I want you."
"Me?" Rebecca's heart pounded painfully.
"Yes, you. I'm glad you came back to Crockett, because I like the idea of working with my dad and uncle and being close to my family. Plus, I like this town. But if you had moved to Santa Fe, or New York City, or even Nome, Alaska, then I would have gone there," he said with a quiet conviction that left no room for doubt. Heat and longing and an aching tenderness simmered in his gray eyes. He touched the gold locket that lay against her chest. "As this says, some things are meant to be."
"Oh, Travis," she whispered: "We went through all this that last day on Rincon. I told you—"
"I know what you told me, but I'm not giving up on us, Rebecca. Look, I understand that you're scared to commit yourself again. I understand that you don't trust your own judgment where men are concerned. I even understand your reservations about me. But none of that matters.
"Sooner or later, sweetheart, you're going to realize that I'm serious about wanting to settle down. I think you already know that I'd never lift a hand to hurt you." Releasing her waist, he framed her face with both his palms. His voice dropped another notch. "You can fight it all you want, sweetheart, but sooner or later I'll wear you down."
"Travis—"
"You love me, dammit! And I love you. And I'm going to marry you."
Before she could utter a response, he tilted her head up and his mouth swooped down on hers. The kiss was heated and thorough and utterly possessive. When he finally raised his head they were bombarded with teasing comments from his family, and Rebecca blushed scarlet. "Travis!" she whispered urgently. "Will you behave! You're embarrassing me."
Ignoring the others, Travis grinned and gave her cheek a pat. "Not a chance. Get used to it, honey, because starting as of now, I'm coming courting."
Chapter Fourteen
Court her, he did. In the weeks that followed, Travis spent more time at his aunt and uncle's house than he had as a child. It seemed to Rebecca that he was always there. No matter whether she was grading papers or helping Dorothy in the kitchen or just watching television, he lounged nearby and watched her with a smoldering look.
How he managed it was a mystery, but on the days when she taught school there was always a fresh red rose on her desk. He called her the minute she got home from work and again every night before she went to bed, even though he spent part of every evening with her.
Wherever Rebecca went, Travis turned up: at the grocery store, the computer shop, the library, the service station. She suspected that Joe and Maggie were supplying him with information about her. The suspicion was confirmed when her car wouldn't start one morning and she bummed a ride to school with Joe. That afternoon when school let out, she found Travis in the hallway outside her classroom, leaning against the wall, waiting to drive her home.
His determined pursuit rattled Rebecca. She never knew where he would pop up next, or what he would take it into his head to do. He sent her candy and flowers for no reason, he sat beside her in church every Sunday, he called her darling and sweetheart in public and kissed her as though it were the most natural thing in the world and his right. He came to school and ate lunch with her in the cafeteria, which drew giggles from the children and speculative looks from the other teachers.
Over and over, Rebecca told him to cease and desist, but she might as well have been talking to the wind for all the good it did. Resisting his charm took every ounce of fortitude she possessed, and daily the task grew harder. The problem was, she was fighting not only Travis, but herself. She loved him desperately, yet the mere thought of marrying again sent cold chills through her.
Gossip about them was flying fast and thick around town, and Rebecca had no idea what to do about it, or how to make Travis stop his determined courtship. Worse, though she told herself it was the wisest course, she really didn't want him to stop.
The admission merely served to make her more miserable and string her nerves out even more. Which, she supposed, was why it seemed like the final straw when Travis showed up at the beauty parlor.
Lerleen Perkin's shop was not one of those unisex establishments, so prevalent in the big city, where men and women sat elbow to elbow to get their hair styled. Oh no. The Beauty Boutique was an old-fashioned, three-station, gossip pit of a salon that reeked of permanent wave solution, peroxide and nail polish, one of the last exclusively female strongholds where women in ill-fitting, passion-pink smocks that gaped open and showed their underwear, sat around with their hair in various stages—from dripping wet to plastered with gunk to twisted in rollers or rods, all of which looked ghastly—dishing the dirt.
Most men of Rebecca's acquaintance would have quailed at entering such a bastion of female mystique. Not Travis.
Without the least trace of discomfort, he lounged against the wall beside the shampoo bowl and flirted with Vera Mae while she washed Rebecca's hair.
He had attended high school with Lerleen and Edith Ann Poison, one of the other beauticians, and with several of the customers, as well. He laughed and chatted with them all, flashing that eye-crinkling smile and ignoring Rebecca's dark looks while he supervised the hair trim Lerleen was giving her.
His presence put the women, beauticians and customers alike, in a tizzy. They fluttered and carried on coyly about him seeing them with their hair wet or in curlers, but they lapped up his every word and vied shamelessly for his attention.
Wynona Watley, a thirtyish blonde whose husband was the pharmacist and owner of a local drugstore, flirted with Travis so brazenly Rebecca was sure they had once been lovers. From the woman's body language and provocative innuendos, it was obvious she would not object to renewing the relationship.
As always, Rebecca's heart pulled her one way and her head another. On the one hand, she wanted to slap the woman, and threaten to put a bug in her husband's ear if she didn't quit making cow eyes at Travis. On the other hand, she knew that she had no right to be upset, given the stance she'd taken. By the time Rebecca left the shop she was so agitated and confused, her nerves were twanging like a struck gong.
Tram sauntered after her when she stormed out the door, Ins long stride eating up the distance between them with ease. He strolled along the sidewalk beside her, his hands in his trouser pockets, oblivious to her ruffled feathers,
"Go away, Travis," she snapped. She was fig
hting a ridiculous urge to cry, and whipping up her anger helped. Staring straight ahead, she marched for her car, parked around the corner of the square, the stacked heels on her boots hammering the pavement.
As usual, he paid no attention to the command. "It's almost noon. Whaddaya say we stop at the cafe for lunch?"
Rebecca stopped dead in her tracks and swung on him, oblivious to the people walking by. "Travis, you have to stop this!"
"Stop what?" he asked innocently, his eyes dancing.
"Stop following me around. Stop sending me flowers. Stop acting as though we are a couple. Stop...stop..." She waved her hands in frustration. "Stop..."
"Courting you?" he supplied helpfully.
"Yes!"
He grinned and rocked back on his heels. Eyeing her lazily, he shook his head. "Uh-uh. Not a chance."
"Travis-"
"Save your breath, sweetheart. I know that you love me. And I love you. And I'm going to marry you." He looked around at the passing shoppers, then threw his head back and shouted at the top of his lungs, "You hear that, people? Travis McCall loves Rebecca Quinn and wants to marry her!"
Rebecca gasped, but before she could utter a word, he grasped her shoulders, hauled her up against him and covered her mouth with his. He kissed her long and thoroughly, right there on the sidewalk in the center of town, with people streaming around them like water seeking its course.
They drew a loud "Humph!" from a passing farmer in overalls, but applause from several of the women and a couple of whistles and encouraging cheers from two young men cutting across the courthouse lawn.
"Travis!" Rebecca gasped when he let her up for air. Casting a quick look around, she saw several familiar faces and blushed scarlet. "Have you lost your mind? What do you think you're doing?"
He flashed an unrepentant grin. "I'm letting the whole town know how I feel and what my intentions are."
Rebecca's frayed nerves snapped. Tears welled in her eyes and spilled over. She looked at him pleadingly,.her chin wobbling. "Please, Travis. Don't do this to me. I... I can't take anymore."
"Hey, take it easy, love." His cocky grin vanished, his handsome face darkening with concern at the sight of her tears. "Ah, sweetheart, don't. Don't cry." He wiped away a crystal drop with his thumb, but more streamed down her cheeks.
"I can't.. .I can't marry you, Travis. I love you, but I just can't. Why won't you accept that?"
"Okay. Okay, you win." He stepped back and held his hands up. "I'll leave you alone if that's what you really want."
Pain and weary acceptance etched his features, and the sight wrung Rebecca's heart. She laid her hand on his arm. "Travis.. .it doesn't have to be the end. Couldn't.. .couldn't we just go back to the way things were on Rincon?"
"You mean just be lovers? No. No, I don't think so." He shook his head sadly and gave a mirthless chuckle. "Tim must be what's called poetic justice. I've had affairs, Rebecca. Lots of them. Until now I've never wanted anything more from a woman. But for the first time in my life I'm in love, and as tempting as your offer is, it's just not enough. I want you to be my wife, the mother of my children. I want us to grow old together. I want marriage and all that goes with it."
The words sent a quiver of longing through Rebecca, and she pressed her lips together to keep from crying. She wanted that, too, wanted it so much her heart felt as though it were breaking in two.
But her fear was stronger. "I... I can't."
He removed her hand from his arm and held it in a gentle grip. For a moment he just stood there, staring at her hand, brushing his thumb back and forth over the delicate skin on the back. He looked up, and his eyes held a world of sadness and hurt. "Well, I guess that's that. If you change your mind, you know where to reach me," he said softly.
Reaching out, he lifted a tear from her cheek, touched the corner of her mouth with his thumb, then turned and walked away.
She told herself over and over she'd done the right thing, that in time she would get over Travis, but as weeks passed and winter faded into spring, the terrible pain did not lessen. She realized that, deep down, she had not really believed Travis would stay away. She had been wrong.
He no longer came to his aunt's house. No more red roses appeared on her desk. There were no more impromptu lunches at school or "accidental" meetings around town.
Every time the telephone rang, Rebecca's heart leaped, but it was rarely for her, and even when it was, the caller was never Travis. In church on Sundays he sat with his family, and somehow he always managed to avoid her afterward.
Crockett was not a big town, and occasionally she saw him, usually at a distance. On those few occasions when they did bump into one another, he was so excruciatingly polite she wanted to cry. After what they had been to each other, it distressed Rebecca to her very soul to realize that they had become just distant acquaintances living in the same town. His open animosity of the past had hurt less.
She had her freedom, her independence; she should have been happy...but she wasn't. She missed Travis dreadfully, and the love she felt for him stubbornly refused to fade.
It was, of course, inevitable that Travis's family would learn of the rift between them. When the call came from Santa Fe, Rebecca was not surprised, since Erin and Elise had never been shy about giving her advice, but she was braced for their arguments and deflected them with little trouble.
Not quite so easy to take was Maggie McCall's coolness. Even Dorothy seemed to have withdrawn from her. Rebecca had the panicky feeling that she was losing everyone she loved.
"Do you want me to move out?" she blurted one evening while she and Dorothy were cooking dinner.
"Of course not." Dorothy turned from stirring a pot on the stove, a look of genuine shock on her face. "Why on earth would I want that?"
"Well...I know that you and Mrs. McCall are angry with me because of Travis.''
"I see." Dorothy sighed. "We're not angry with you, child. Just disappointed. To be frank, I think your behavior is cowardly, and I had thought better of you than that.''
"Dorothy!'' The disdainful words hit Rebecca like a slap in the face. Hurt to the quick, she stared, white-faced, at the woman she had come to regard almost as a mother. "How can you say that? Don't you understand how horrible my marriage was? How terrified—"
"Horse feathers! That's an excuse. A crutch you use to avoid facing the truth.''
"What!" Shocked to the core, Rebecca stared at the older woman with her mouth agape.
"Come now, child. Can you look me in the eye and honestly say that you're afraid of Travis?"
Confusion and panic swirled through Rebecca. "I.. .I..." Her mouth worked, but the words would not come out.
"I thought not." Dorothy nodded with grim satisfaction. "It's not Travis you're afraid df at all. You're afraid of being happy."
"That's not true!"
"Isn't it? All your life you've been like that little match girl out in the cold, always on the outside looking in, weaving dreams about what it would be like to love and be loved. Now you've got a chance to find out, and you haven't the courage to take it. What are you afraid of, Rebecca? That reality won't live up to your dreams? That Travis will disappoint you?" Dorothy's eyes narrowed shrewdly. "Or that you'll disappoint him?"
"I..." Rebecca swallowed hard and blinked back tears. "I don't know."
"If you marry Travis things won't always be wonderful, Rebecca. Life isn't like that. You'll get angry and you'll fight. You might have to face hard times, or grief and sorrow, but you'll do it together. Marriage is never easy or idyllic, but it's comforting and warm to know that, no matter what, there is someone who loves you." She took Rebecca's hand and patted it. "Travis does love you, Rebecca, and he'll make you happy if you let him. Don't you think it's time to come in from the cold, child?" she asked gently.
Dazed and speechless, Rebecca sagged against the counter. Could it be true? Had she been using the past to cover up her real fear? Certainly, now that Dorothy had forced her to take a good har
d look at them, her arguments against marrying Travis no longer seemed valid.
She supposed that all along, in her heart of hearts, she had known that she did not really fear Travis. She had tried to tell herself that he was not serious about settling down in Crockett, that he would tire of the quiet life, of the town, of working in the law firm... of her. But he was still there, and though she had refused him, he showed no sign of leaving.
Since divorcing Evan, she had prided herself on her courage, but now she wondered. Was she so timid and lacking in backbone that she was afraid to reach out for a little happiness? If so, she didn't deserve it.
The thought was so unpalatable she straightened away from the counter with her jaw set and headed for the door.
"Where are you going?" Dorothy called after her.
"To the McCall's. I have to talk to Travis."
"He's not there."
Rebecca halted and spun around. "What do you mean, he's not there?" Her heart began to pound. Oh, Lord, had he gotten tired of waiting for her to come to her senses and given up?
"He bought the old Martin place, down the road from his folks' house. He moved into it two months ago. I would've thought you'd heard by now."
Rebecca nearly sagged with relief. "No. No, I hadn't."