by Trish Milburn - The Texan's Cowgirl Bride (Texas Rodeo Barons)
“Hi. Can I help you with something?”
Carly stepped up beside Savannah and propped her arm on Savannah’s shoulder. “If she can’t, I’d be happy to try.”
Damn if Travis didn’t gift Carly with a wide smile. “Depends on who can get me a peach pie to take home.” He shifted his gaze to Savannah. “I hear you make the best peach pie in the county.”
Carly sighed dramatically. “Foiled by my big sis’s Betty Crocker genes.”
Savannah looked over at her sister. “Don’t you have somewhere you have to be?”
Carly just smiled, her unique brand of evil shining in her eyes. “Why are you trying to get rid of me?”
“Because I have a customer,” Savannah said through gritted teeth.
Carly hesitated a moment, then winked at Savannah before she moved toward the front door. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
As the door closed behind Carly, Savannah shook her head. “I need to dunk her head in a tub of ice.”
Travis laughed. “She’s just like I remember her.”
“A pain in my ass?” She sighed, then shifted her attention to Travis and lowered her voice even though they were the only two people in the building. “Why are you here? I told you that I didn’t want anyone in my family to know about the investigation.”
“I don’t recall me saying anything about the search for your mother.” He strode past her and started examining the contents of the store shelves. “Can’t a guy just buy a pie?”
Savannah crossed her arms. “You’re telling me that you drove all the way out here for a peach pie?”
“No, I drove out here for your peach pie.”
“Travis.”
He held up a hand. “Okay, fine, I have another reason. I had a case fall through this morning, so I thought if I could pick up the information about your mother, I’d jump right in.”
“And you couldn’t call to tell me that. We could have met anywhere but here, or I could have emailed you everything.”
He slid a pie off the shelf. “But I can’t get pie through the phone or email.”
“Fine. Take a pie, take two. Stay here and I’ll run up and get the information. Please, if anyone comes in...”
“Savannah, I meant what I said last night. I won’t tell a soul.”
She searched his eyes and saw truth looking back at her before she nodded and hurried toward her apartment. Her nerves were firing so much that she knocked over a glass of water on her coffee table and had to hurriedly grab the folder of information she’d gathered for him. After toweling up the water, she took a moment to try to get her frantic heartbeat under control. She wasn’t used to feeling so out of sorts. But she didn’t dare hesitate long. It would be just her luck for her father to come rolling in again and see through her deception in one glance.
When she returned to the store, Travis was sitting at one of the tables, digging into a pie with one of the plastic forks from the front counter. Frantic to get him out of the store, off the ranch, back to Dallas, she hurried forward and placed the folder on the table beside his pie.
“Here you go.”
He motioned toward the chair on the other side of the table with his fork. “Have a seat. I’ll share my pie.”
“It’s too early for pie.”
“It’s never too early for pie.”
“You need to leave.”
Travis lowered his fork to the empty wedge in the pie tin where a slice of pie used to be. “Why are you so nervous?”
“I told you, I don’t want my family to know I’ve hired you.”
“They won’t.”
Throwing out her hands in frustration, she nevertheless sank onto the white metal chair. “My dad tracked me down on your phone. Do you honestly think he can’t find out that you’re a private investigator?”
“So what if he does?”
“How do I explain why I’m meeting with you?”
“He knows we went to high school together. Tell him that after we bumped into each other at the rodeo, we decided to hang out some.”
“Hang out?”
“Yes. You know, friends do that from time to time.” He leaned back in his chair. “In fact, I think we should hang out later tonight.”
“You think you’ll have some information by then?”
“It’s possible but not likely. No, I was talking about going to do something fun that has nothing to do with your mom or any other member of your family.”
Startled by his request, Savannah scrambled for a reason to decline. “I’m busy.”
“Doing what?”
“Working.”
He scanned the store. “What, do you work every waking hour?”
“It takes a lot to keep this store going, especially if I want to make the profits grow.”
“You can afford one evening off.”
“Why are you pressing this?” And why did she feel herself wanting to accept, even when she had no idea what he had in mind?
“Because you, Savannah Baron, are so stressed out that you look as if you’re about to pop.”
She opened her mouth to argue but found she couldn’t. He was right. She’d never felt more stressed out in her life. Not even riding in the National Finals Rodeo had unnerved her as much as the past few days. She sighed and met his gaze.
“What did you have in mind?”
“County fair starts tonight. Ferris wheel rides, carnival games, funnel cakes.”
She laughed a little and nodded toward the tin in front of him. “You’re in the midst of eating a pie for breakfast and you’re already talking about eating funnel cake. If you’re not careful, you’re going to wake up one morning and look like one of the elephants at the zoo.”
“Don’t worry about my figure. I have ways of keeping the weight off.”
Heat rushed up Savannah’s neck and into her face so quickly that she lowered her gaze before Travis somehow figured out where her mind had gone—right to the idea of him in bed, making love...to her.
She wondered if the lump in her breast was zapping her brain, robbing her of common sense. Because why else would she be thinking about hopping into bed with Travis only days after seeing him again for the first time in years?
Because he was nice, funny and had a body that was made for exactly what she’d been imagining.
She couldn’t believe that’s where her mind went when she had so many more pressing matters to occupy her thoughts. But maybe that was exactly why she was imagining Travis that way, as a mental escape from her worries.
Travis picked up his fork again and cut a bite of pie. “So what do you say? Are we on for tonight?”
“If I say yes, will you leave?”
“Do you treat all of your customers this way, or am I special?”
Before she could respond, the front door opened and three women came inside.
Travis nodded toward the trio. “Go ahead and do your customer service thing. I’ll just be here, eating my pie, waiting for an answer.”
“Fine, I’ll go.” She stood and pasted on a friendly smile for the newcomers.
By the time she’d sold the ladies three pies, some jars of marmalade and one of the lace-covered picture frames she’d made, Travis still hadn’t vacated the premises. Instead, he was wandering down one of the store aisles. Since obviously pressing him to leave didn’t work, she simply stood at the end of the shelf and watched him.
“Don’t tell me you have a burning desire to buy some craft items,” she said.
“Just browsing. Rita’s birthday is in a couple of weeks.” He picked up the framed picture of a horse she’d made from scraps of cloth. “I bet she’d like this. Did you make it?”
“Yeah. I pretty much made everything in here, except the jewelry in t
he corner. Those are made by Gina, my assistant.”
He glanced around the store at the variety of items on display. “Okay, so maybe you do work every waking moment.”
“I like to stay busy, and I watch a lot of HGTV and haunt a lot of online crafting sites.”
He grinned at her. “A woman of many talents. I’m impressed.”
“I wish everyone felt the same way.” What she wouldn’t give to hear her father say one word of admiration for what she’d done with the store, turning it from a simple roadside stand into much more. But Brock Baron got things in his head a certain way, and changing his vision was akin to steering the Titanic into a U-turn.
The sound of more vehicles entering the parking lot drew her attention. Travis pulled out his wallet and handed over the money for the picture.
“I’ll pick you up at six,” he said, then headed toward the front door before she could think of a way to get out of spending the evening with him. She had a feeling steering clear of her family was the least of her concerns. Topping the list was eating funnel cake with Travis while pretending she hadn’t imagined him naked.
* * *
TRAVIS WAS A couple of miles down the road before he realized he was still smiling. When he’d gotten up that morning, he’d had no intention of driving out to the Baron family ranch. But the next thing he knew, he’d turned the opposite way of his office and headed toward the slice of Texas that he’d called home in his youth. He’d told himself it was for business, but the truth was he’d wanted to see her again. He was a guy who figured out things, and what he wanted to figure out more than anything right now was Savannah Baron.
Why was she really looking for her mother? What besides the fear of her family finding out about her search was making her so anxious? And had he really seen a flicker of interest in her eyes as they’d sat across from each other in her store?
Since Corinne’s death, he hadn’t really dated, other than a blind date Rita had tricked him into. For a long time, he’d been too hurt, too angry. Then he’d just been too busy. That hadn’t bothered him since he wasn’t interested in finding someone else.
But when he’d run into Savannah, something unexpected inside him shifted and interest flickered to life. Was he nine kinds of a fool for even allowing himself to think the way he was? Could he perhaps casually date a little without letting himself get attached? Just a few friendly outings. By the time he found her mother and she got whatever answers she needed, maybe she’d be out of his system.
Blossom gave him a curious look as he finally made his way into the office around eleven o’clock.
“Look who finally deigned to show up. If we were having a late start today, I would have appreciated a call, a text, smoke signal even.”
“You’re just grumpy because you were out too late last night.”
“And you’re jealous because my life is more exciting than yours.”
“Tell me why I put up with you again.”
She smiled and batted her lashes. “Because I’m awesome at my job and keep things interesting around here.”
“Oh, yeah, that.” He laughed a little under his breath and walked into his office.
“Where were you anyway? I didn’t have anything on your calendar for this morning.”
“Went to see a friend.”
He normally shared everything regarding cases with Blossom, but he said nothing about Savannah. She’d been so concerned about keeping her case private that at least for now he decided to keep it between the two of them. Not that he didn’t trust Blossom, but he didn’t want to give any sort of hint that he might be into Savannah. If there was anyone who could spot things people were hiding better than him, it was Blossom. He’d even offered to train her to become another investigator, but she’d wanted no part of it. She’d lifted a brow at him and said, “I can think of way better things to do with my nights than sitting in a car waiting to see some schmuck do the nasty with his piece on the side.”
She had a point. Honestly, he could, too, but he went with what paid the bills. But not tonight. All the cheating spouses, insurance frauds and thieves would have to just wait another day to be caught because he had a date with cheesy carnival games, fat-laden foods and the prettiest cowgirl he’d ever seen.
* * *
THE CARNIVAL WAS a riot of sounds and smells. Screams from the roller coaster, game hawkers calling out the chance to win big prizes, the greasy scent of corn dogs and French fries. A couple of grinning kids walked by holding funnel cakes and with their mouths coated in confectioner’s sugar. It all made Savannah feel ten years old again, let loose on the midway by her father with a string of tickets as long as she was tall.
Travis leaned close. “You’re glad you came, aren’t you?”
He seemed so happy with himself that she couldn’t help but smile. “I admit it takes me back a bit.”
She’d ridden in plenty of rodeos that were accompanied by carnivals, but she’d rarely taken the time to stroll through them. Her focus had been on posting fast times and then looking ahead to the next event. Since cutting back on riding, her focus had shifted to her new passion: the farm store and making sure the ranch produced the best and most peaches and pecans that it could. She liked having goals, a purpose, but she had to admit it was nice to get away from responsibility now and again, too. She just hoped tonight turned out better than her rodeo weekend in Mineral Wells.
Travis stopped at the cotton candy vendor and bought a big puff of pink sugar.
“I thought you were a man on a mission to have funnel cake.”
He grinned at her and extended the cotton candy. “The night is young.”
She shook her head. “Boy, you are on your way to a raging case of diabetes.”
“Nah. You’ve only seen my naughty eating side.”
Lord, the last thing she needed to think about was him having a naughty side.
“So, did the information I gave you help?”
Travis stopped and turned toward her. “You really want to talk business? We’re here to have fun.”
“What are we supposed to talk about?”
“About how I’m going to beat you at the shooting gallery?”
“What?”
Travis pointed to the right, at one of the game trucks that invited people willing to fork over hard-earned money to shoot toy guns at fake tin outlaws.
“You know those are rigged, right?”
“That’s your excuse for not being able to beat me?”
Okay, he was just too cocky for his own good. She stared straight into his blue eyes and said, “You’re on.”
Before Travis could pull out his wallet, she strode up to the booth and handed the man the money required for both her and Travis then motioned toward one of the toy guns.
“Be my guest.”
With a crooked grin, Travis picked up the gun, aimed and shot.
“And a miss,” she said, humor in her voice.
Travis narrowed his eyes at her then aimed again. This time he hit the cartoon outlaw, knocking the tin cutout over. “That’s more like it.”
“Yeah, you’re a regular sharpshooter.”
His final three shots produced only one more hit, yielding him the amazing prize of a key chain with a little cowboy boot on the end.
Savannah couldn’t help the snicker that escaped her.
Travis playfully bumped his shoulder into hers. “It’s your turn, Annie Oakley.”
Determined to back up her teasing, she aimed carefully at where her mind told her she should shoot then shifted slightly to the right to accommodate for what she expected was the rigging of the game. She pulled the trigger, and the tin outlaw fell backwards.
“Lucky shot,” Travis muttered.
She smiled as she brought her eye to the sight again. Four
more shots, four more fake outlaws toasted. She eyed Travis as she brought the barrel of the gun to her lips and blew on it as if there were actual smoke drifting from it.
The carnival worker manning the booth handed her a huge yellow teddy bear.
“I thought you said these games were rigged,” Travis said as they walked away from the game.
“They are.” She shrugged. “I’m just that good.”
Over the next few minutes they wandered through the midway watching kids play games, finished off the cotton candy and ended up near the rides. Travis pointed at the roller coaster.
“Want to give it a whirl?”
“I don’t think my bruised ribs would weather that very well.”
“Probably not. Kiddie ride?” He pointed toward a miniature merry-go-round on which preschoolers were riding everything from elephants to dolphins, his expression and voice filled with humor.
She didn’t know if it was a good idea, but she liked his teasing. It lightened the weight that had been sitting on her chest since the night of the rodeo.
“How about we compromise and go for the Ferris wheel?”
Savannah wondered at the wisdom of her suggestion, however, when she and Travis were seated close together in one of the passenger cars, his arm stretched out behind her. She stiffened at his proximity, which proved a bad decision when the wheel jerked into motion. A pain shot through her side, causing an involuntary grunt.
“You okay?” The concern in Travis’s voice as well as the feel of his hand on her back sent an unfamiliar warmth through her.
She nodded and leaned forward as if to relieve her discomfort. Breaking contact with him should have allowed her to breathe easier, but she was left feeling an odd loss.
“How long does the doctor think it’ll take you to heal?”
Her breath caught until she realized he was referring only to her bruised ribs. “A few weeks.”
“So I guess you won’t be competing anytime soon?”
“No. I was supposed to ride in New Mexico next month, but I already canceled.”
“Guess you’re not as crazy as the bull riders.”
“It’d be a different story if I were in the hunt for the Finals. But I’ve had my fill of life on the road.”