by Trish Milburn - The Texan's Cowgirl Bride (Texas Rodeo Barons)
Julieta smiled. “That happens when a man sees another man making a move on his daughter.”
Savannah shook her head. “Making a move? Really? As I told Dad, I’m a grown woman.”
“Yes, but you’ll always be his little girl, same as Lizzie and Carly.” Julieta looked toward the house. “So, do you love him?”
Savannah let the question sit there for a few seconds while she thought over everything that had happened between her and Travis in such a short time. He’d taken care of her on more than one occasion, was determined to find her mother for her and was a rock when she needed it. Not to mention he made her feel beautiful, feminine but also strong and able to do anything. Then there was the incredible sex....
“Yes, I do.”
Julieta moved closer and took Savannah’s hands in hers. “Then you grab onto him and hang on as if your life depends on it. If necessary, I’ll rein in your dad.”
Savannah smiled. “Thank you.”
Julieta pulled Savannah close for a hug. “I’m happy for you.”
The front door opened, causing Savannah to quickly pull away from Julieta to face Travis.
“See, he survived the lion’s den,” Julieta said under her breath before heading up the stone pathway toward the house.
Savannah watched as the two of them greeted each other in passing before she met Travis’s eyes. “So, what did he want?”
“He wanted to know my intentions toward his daughter.”
“And?”
“I told him I intended to throw you over my shoulder, carry you home and make love to you all night long.”
Savannah’s mouth dropped open before she swatted him. “Be serious.”
“Why? Teasing you is so much more fun.”
“Travis.”
He pulled her into his arms. “He wanted to know if we were more than friends.”
“What did you tell him?”
“That we are more.” He dropped his mouth to hers and kissed her, softly, sweetly. “Way more.”
Her heart gave an excited thump. The words “I love you” almost slipped from her mouth. But this wasn’t where she wanted to tell him, nor the time. Though the truth of it sang within her, she wanted to make sure she wasn’t facing cancer before she told him. If she was...she didn’t want to think of letting him go, but he’d already been through too much.
Travis moved his mouth next to her ear and said, “Though I think taking you home and making love to you all night isn’t a bad idea.”
No, not a bad idea at all.
They barely made it up to her apartment before they started ripping off clothes. Thankfully, Carly had closed up the store and gone home.
After they’d both found their release and lay curled around each other in her bed, the need to tell him that she loved him nearly bubbled out. But she couldn’t be that selfish. If she got good news, then she’d have plenty of time to tell him how he’d captured her heart. She only hoped he felt the same. He seemed to, and that was enough for now.
They slept for a while, kissed some more, until finally Travis propped himself up on one elbow. He caressed her cheek, and she wondered how she’d ever been satisfied with her life without him in it. She could be independent and self-confident and still want the joy of being in love, of being loved. She realized there was room in her busy life for this wonderful man, more than enough room.
“I don’t want to leave, but I have a client meeting early in the morning.”
“It’s okay. I’ve sort of monopolized your weekend.”
He leaned toward her. “You didn’t hear me complaining, did you?”
Before she could answer, he dropped another kiss on her lips.
While he showered, she unpacked and tossed her dirty clothes into the laundry. She heard her phone beep just as she wandered into the living room. Noticing she had a new message, she punched in the code for her voice mail.
“This is Dr. Fisher’s office. We have your test results if you’ll call at your earliest convenience.”
Travis opened the bathroom door and walked out as she pulled the phone away from her ear, her hand shaking. If they called her on a Sunday, that couldn’t be good. But when she noticed the time of the call, it was Friday afternoon.
“Savannah?”
She turned toward the concern in his voice. “My test results are in, have been since Friday afternoon.” She held up the phone. “But for some reason the message just dumped onto my phone.”
He stepped closer. “What did they say?”
“Just that they were in and to call them.” How was she supposed to sleep tonight, waiting for the office to open in the morning?
For several long moments, Travis said nothing. She imagined him kicking himself for getting involved with someone who could be staring down a cancer diagnosis. But then he pulled her to him.
“I’ll stay and go with you in the morning.” His voice sounded strained despite his obvious effort to hide it.
“No, you’ve got work to do.”
“Work can wait.”
She pulled away from him. “No, please. You have to make a living. I’ll be okay. I feel great, so it’s probably nothing.”
And if it wasn’t, she didn’t want to see the look on his face when he found out.
* * *
TRAVIS FINISHED UP his early-morning meeting and escorted out the couple who had just hired him to investigate whether any of the employees of their company were embezzling. When he stepped into the waiting area next to Blossom’s desk, he froze. He stared into the eyes of Irene Crouch. He hadn’t seen her since the day her son, David, had been sentenced to life in prison for killing Corinne.
“Travis, this is—”
“I know who she is.”
Blossom startled at his abrupt interruption. He wanted to turn around, walk into his office and slam the door. He did not need to be reminded of Corinne’s death today of all days. Damn it, he should be at Savannah’s side.
Or was this reminder of the hell and pain he’d gone through coming as a warning for him to not get any closer to Savannah?
Well, it was too late for that. He’d already fallen head over heels in love with her.
Irene Crouch stood and walked toward him slowly. “Mr. Shepard, I know I’m probably the last person you want to see.”
“No, that would be your son.” He knew he was being harsh, that Mrs. Crouch was no more responsible for Corinne’s death than Blossom was, but just thinking about David Crouch made him want to choke the life from the man.
Mrs. Crouch lowered her head and took a shaky breath before lifting her gaze to his again. There were tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry to bother you, but I only ask for a few minutes of your time.”
Travis took a moment to forcibly set aside his anger before nodding. He looked at Blossom. “I’ll be back in a while.”
Blossom, normally so bubbly and full of life, simply nodded that she’d heard.
Wondering what in the world could have brought Mrs. Crouch to his office, he motioned toward the glass door that led into the elevator lobby. “Let’s go for a walk.”
Neither of them spoke until they’d crossed the street to the park that was crisscrossed with paths. Travis led the way down the central path until they reached a bench next to a fountain. Mrs. Crouch sank down onto the wooden bench as if her legs could no longer support her.
“It hasn’t been released to the press yet, so I wanted to see you before it was,” she said. She swallowed visibly. “David died early this morning. He...he took his own life.”
Shock slammed into Travis, followed by anger. Crouch was supposed to suffer for the rest of his life, trapped like the caged animal he was. Travis felt sucker punched again. First he’d been robbed of his wife, now justice.
Mrs. Crouch reached into her purse and retrieved an envelope, which she then extended to him. “He told me that if he died in prison before I was gone, that I was to give this to you.”
“I don’t want whatever that is.”
“Please,” she said. “He told me not to read it, but I did. I know you were very angry with him, and you had every right to be. And he knew that.”
“Nothing in that letter can bring Corinne back.” A wave of pain that felt as raw as the day he’d laid Corinne to rest twisted his insides.
“No, it can’t. I know you loved her. But David was my only son, and I loved him. He did a horrible thing, but when I looked at him I still saw the little boy who used to curl up in my arms and watch cartoons.” Her voice broke, and a tear escaped and ran down her cheek. “I know that it’s a lot of me to ask, but please read the letter. If not for David, then for me. For the boy he once was.”
Damn if his heart didn’t ache for her. He remembered how she’d cried at David’s sentencing, how she hadn’t even been able to walk from the courtroom under her own power. He’d been so full of hatred and rage then that he hadn’t cared. But he did now. Mrs. Crouch was as much a victim as he was. They’d both lost someone that they loved.
Mrs. Crouch, a single mother, had just lost her only child. As bad as it had been to lose Corinne, he couldn’t imagine what pain must come from the loss of a child.
He reached over and took the letter. Then, surprising himself, he wrapped his hand around Mrs. Crouch’s. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
She pressed her lips together and placed her other hand on his. Then she gave him a sad smile before getting to her feet and walking away. She looked so alone that it broke his heart.
He watched her until she reached her car, afraid she might collapse. When she drove away, he looked at the plain envelope in his hand. He wanted to rip it to pieces or simply throw it in the nearest trash can. But he’d promised a grieving mother he’d read it. With anger making it hard not to crumple the envelope, he opened it and pulled out the letter.
Mr. Shepard,
I have no idea if you will read this letter, but I hope you will. Even if you don’t, I need to write it. I know I can’t say anything that will take away your pain and your anger toward me, and I don’t deserve your forgiveness so I won’t ask for it. But I want you to know that I am sorry. Very, very sorry. If I could give my life to bring back your wife, I would in a heartbeat. I think about her every day.
Travis had to stop reading and look away from the letter. In that moment, he hated David Crouch more than he ever had. How dare he say he’d give his life for Corinne’s. He should have thought about that before he pulled the trigger. Travis’s hand shook with the effort to not crush the letter in his fist, imagining it was Crouch’s throat. It was exactly what he should do, but for some reason he found his gaze returning to the words written on the paper.
I wish I could take that moment back. I wish I’d never done drugs. I wish I hadn’t hurt my mama. I wish so many things that I can’t change now. I wish I could do something to make up for what I did. I ruined my life and so many others. Some days I think the guilt will kill me, and some days I hope that it will. It’s what I deserve. I hope that somehow you have found happiness again. If not, I hope that you do.
David Crouch
Travis sat on the bench staring at David Crouch’s name, the old anger and hatred threatening to consume him.
He looked up and across the park at a young mother teaching her little boy to ride a tiny bicycle with training wheels. He couldn’t help but wonder if Mrs. Crouch had done that with David when he’d been young, before the temptation of drugs had lured him down the wrong path. If he’d taken a different fork in the road, what kind of life might he have had? Would he be happily married now with children of his own? Travis imagined a bright smile on Mrs. Crouch’s face as she was surrounded by grandchildren instead of the despair she now felt to her very core.
Would he and Corinne have had children by now? He’d never know because of David Crouch.
After several long minutes, he stood but didn’t return to the office. Instead, he turned in the opposite direction and started walking as his stomach turned.
He knew he should call Savannah, but the idea of her getting bad news hit him in the gut so hard that he couldn’t dial the number. Even if the news was good, would he ever be able to not worry about her? That he might lose her?
He was a fool for getting so deeply involved with her, for allowing himself to fall for her. He’d ignored all the warning signs.
God, he loved her. And that was why he had to stay away. All he’d had to do was stare into the face of Mrs. Crouch’s grief to remember the feeling of being carved up inside. To face that again with Savannah— Just the thought was enough to make him wish his ability to fall in love had died with Corinne.
Chapter Fourteen
Savannah stared at her phone, desperate to call Dr. Fisher’s office for her test results but also afraid of what she might say. She’d gotten halfway through dialing the number twice only to hang up. She wanted to be strong, but she couldn’t help wishing Travis was beside her.
Finally, she took a deep breath and forced herself to dial all the numbers. With her heart threatening to beat itself to death, she listened as the phone rang once, twice.
“Dr. Fisher’s office.”
“Um, this is Savannah Baron. I had a message that my biopsy results were in.”
“Just a moment and I’ll connect you with her nurse.”
More interminable moments passed as she listened to dreadful elevator-style music. Couldn’t they at least play something soothing, like one of those nature recordings of mountain streams or ocean waves?
That image sent her thoughts right back to the weekend in Galveston. Would she ever experience anything that wonderful again? Or had it been her one hurrah before being plunged into hell?
“This is Becky,” someone said in her ear, startling her. After a moment, she remembered the cheerful Becky from the day she’d gone to see Dr. Fisher.
Savannah repeated why she was calling.
“Let me look up your records.”
Savannah wanted to scream as she listened to Becky typing.
“Here it is. Your biopsy came back negative.”
Her heart skipped a beat. “Negative?” Was negative good or bad? “What does that mean?”
“You don’t have cancer. And it’s not a precancerous lump, either.”
“So, I’m healthy?”
“As far as this goes, yes.”
Savannah couldn’t believe it. She realized she’d prepared herself so much for bad news that it was exactly what she’d been expecting. Realizing she should say something, she finally managed a thank-you before ending the call. Then she sat on the side of her bed staring out the window that revealed another bright, sunny day. It was as if Mother Nature had known she would get good news and given her a beautiful day to celebrate.
A rush of excitement and intense happiness consumed her, and she jumped up as she called Travis. When he didn’t answer his cell, she figured he must still be in the meeting. So she dialed his office, intending to leave him a message to call her as soon as he was free.
“Shepard Investigations. How can I help you?”
“Yes, is Travis free?”
“No, can I take a message?”
“Yeah, have him call Savannah as soon as he gets out of his meeting.”
Hesitation on the other end of the line caused an odd tingle of worry to pop to life inside Savannah.
“He’s out of the office for the rest of the day, but I’ll tell him if I hear from him.”
Out all day? He hadn’t mentioned that. Had something come up? Did it have to do with the search for her mother? “Oh, okay. Thanks.”
When she hung up,
she tried his cell again only to get voice mail. She didn’t want to leave a message with the news. This was something she wanted to tell him herself. She paced through her apartment, her phone in hand, willing it to ring. But ten minutes went by, then fifteen, and twenty. He knew she was getting the news about her diagnosis this morning. He’d even offered to be with her when she got it. But once he’d gone home alone, had he changed his mind? Had the thought of her having cancer scared him away?
She didn’t want to think that, but hadn’t she already determined she would push him away if the news had been bad to save him from further pain? Even so, she couldn’t deny how it hurt that he hadn’t checked with her.
She wiped at sudden tears. Damn it, she wasn’t this woman. She’d just gotten the best news of her life, and here she was crying. After washing and drying her face, she went downstairs to put some of her plans for the Peach Pit into action.
By midafternoon, she and Gina had both the peach wedding cake and an order for twenty peach and pecan pies prepared. After the bride-to-be picked up her cake, Gina loaded up the pies for delivery on her way home.
Left alone, Savannah sank onto a chair next to the front window and looked at her phone for what had to be the eight hundredth time. Still no message from Travis. Her heart ached more than she would have ever thought possible.
Trying to push away her hurt, she refocused on the plans for the peach festival. She’d been calling people all day, setting up various vendor booths, a sketch artist to do caricatures, and Amos’s to provide barbecue. A nearby rancher who raised miniature horses would bring several for little kids to ride. Her brothers had agreed to man the hayrides, and Carly was in charge of the pumpkin-carving contest.
The front door opened and, speak of the devil, in came Carly. She took one look at Savannah, and her smile fell away.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Bull.” Carly plopped down in the chair on the other side of the small table. “You’re planning this big event and you look as if someone ran over your dog.”