Guilt Ridden (The Walker Five Book 4)

by Marie Johnston

  The magnitude of what she’d just agreed to settled over her. When the hell was she going to have time to do all this?

  ***

  Pam’s announcement wasn’t a surprise. Travis watched a myriad of emotions play across Kami’s face. Her expression settled on muted panic.

  She was going through with it then. It’d been a big decision between him and his cousins, but they’d decided they’d be fools not to jump on the sale as soon as it was listed. They’d even discussed meeting with Pam to get it going. By the time the sale was complete, they’d still have decent weather to get some things prepped for the next growing season when they could plant their own silage and start building a herd for at least one of the pastures—the only one Pam hadn’t allowed people to store their junked vehicles in.

  It was hard to be happy for her, but she’d gotten what she’d wanted. “That’s great, Kami. I wish you the best.”

  Another flare of oh shit what’d I get myself into passed over her face. “Thanks.”

  The rest of his family would be sad to hear they’d missed an opportunity. He’d tell them that Pam had offered to Kami first, not that he’d spilled the news and Kami had jumped on it.

  Her reaction wasn’t what he’d expected. Smugness? No, that hadn’t been her. An exultant smile and her strolling around announcing all the changes she’d make, maybe. Kami had been a headstrong child. The champion on the school bus when older kids targeted the younger ones. She told everyone how it was going to be and charged ahead. Other kids had naturally followed her lead.

  Hell, he would’ve followed her anywhere. He had, too. Until she’d run back to Austin-fucking-Anderson’s arms after their brief night together.

  She wasn’t quite the same Kami from those days. It seemed like they’d each lived a lifetime since then. She had a daughter who wasn’t so little anymore, and just like Kami at that age, she was spinning cartwheels through the grass.

  Mom lightly tapped her arm. “I’m going to start lunch since you and Kambria are going to be hanging around all weekend messing with that damn tree.” She wandered back to the house.

  Reba puffed and nudged him. She wanted to get back to grazing, but he didn’t want to leave.

  Kami turned a disheartened smile on him. “Thanks for stopping by. That was really nice of you to check up on me.”

  About that. He hadn’t ridden horse for weeks until this morning when he was struck with the urge to not just ride, but head through his own pastures to the ditch running to Kami’s place. Checking on her wasn’t just an excuse. Wanting to see her again fueled that excuse.

  Her little girl looked like her. He remembered Ben from football. She had his height and his eyes, but her mischievous grin was all Kami’s. So was her athletic ability, apparently. His eyes widened as she went from being upright to falling back to bridge.

  “Holy shit,” he said.

  Kami’s grin morphed into proud mom. “She’s getting good.”

  “Taught by the best, isn’t she?”

  “I’m running out of equipment. I don’t think a beam would fit in my place.” Her smile faded as she glowered at the tree. “Well, I’d better get to work.”

  That was his cue to leave. He had a lot of work to do. He really did. There was the…the…

  Fuck it. “I’ll ride Reba back and grab my chainsaw.”

  Her brows rose, but he didn’t miss the flash of hope. “No. The tree’s not your problem. I’ve got it. Didn’t you say you had planting?”

  He’d get out of it. “Not this weekend. It’s no problem.”

  He gripped the saddle horn and propped his foot in the stirrup. Swinging easily into the saddle, he glanced down. His mouth quirked. Was it wishful thinking, or had she checked him out?

  Her gaze shifted to the tree. The massive limbs would need nothing less than a chainsaw.

  “Really, it’s not necessary.” She didn’t sound convinced.

  “I know.” He tapped Reba’s flank and flashed Kami a grin as his horse sauntered off.

  He’d finagled himself an entire weekend with Kami. The cost was back-breaking work in the hot sun, but worth it.

  He’d earned a degree in restraint by the time Reba reached his house. The mare’s health was as important as his own, otherwise he’d run her through the ditches. To get back into her own pastures, she would’ve willing worked herself into a lather.

  Reba was brushed and back grazing before he went in search of tools. He fired up his truck, attached the flatbed trailer, and pulled up to the tool shed. The Quonset and barns were for tractors and livestock, and all the guys had their own set of equipment. He ducked into the shed and located what he’d need.

  The chainsaw got loaded, along with a two-gallon gas can, a reciprocating saw, an axe, a sledgehammer, and a wedge. Work gloves went into the cab with hearing protection and safety goggles he grimaced at. There had to be something better. He searched and finally found glasses that looked like clear sunglasses. Better. Just because he was a geek didn’t mean he had to look like one.

  He glanced down at himself. Running to his house, he crashed inside and changed into his work clothes—beat-up jeans and a long-sleeved Carhartt pocketed T-shirt. Satisfied he was as protected as he could be, he rushed back to Kami’s place. The drive felt as long as the horse ride.

  When he pulled in, she and her daughter were tugging and pulling at loose branches. They’d formed a nice pile with just them and a large pair of clippers.

  Lining his truck and trailer next to the pile, he killed the engine and hopped out.

  Kami stopped with the eight-foot branch she was hauling. “Since you didn’t take the hint, where do you want me to load this?”

  He set about getting his gear on. He seated the goggles on top of his head and hooked the ear protection around his neck. He stuffed his hands into the work gloves. “Where you’ve got it. I’ll break down the trunk and large branches. We can stack the wood in the bed of the truck and pile the branches on top. Do you want to keep any for firewood?”

  She slanted a look at him. “We don’t have a fireplace.”

  “Fire pit?”

  “Dad always used an empty barrel. It’s probably shoved in that barn somewhere.” She jutted her chin toward the decaying structure with the faded, weather-worn wood that displayed little of the red paint from its prime. “It’s a lost cause, don’t you think?”

  “Most definitely. What we’d discussed was getting everything out of there before the next major storm toppled it and we had to dig it out.”

  She nodded, her expression resigned. “Dad left some useful things behind, but there’s pure junk in there, too. He collected anything he thought would be worth money, then never sold it.” Her gaze switched to the pasture, her mouth pulling into a frown. “Kind of like those cars. But I think Mom got the money upfront.”

  Yeah, Kami would have a full-time job for weeks just hauling old cars out of the pastures. With the right equipment and enough helpers, it’d take a few days.

  “Give me a shout when you tackle those, too. I’d be glad to help.”

  Kami stared at him. Behind her, Kambria had seized the break in work to twirl through the yard and do a cartwheel thing that lands like a flip. Just like her mother at that age.

  “Why are you helping me, Travis? I cock-blocked your business expansion.”

  Just his work, not him. He stared across the field in the direction his property lay and answered as honestly as he could without saying he was still crazy about her. “Because I can’t imagine anyone else owning my house. I would’ve had a hard time forgiving my parents if they had sold it out from under me.”

  When his dad and four uncles sold the Walker Five farm and ranch operation, he and his cousins had all been in good places in their life. And they’d had each other. Kami had her daughter, who could run a push mower and was probably big enough to drive a riding lawn mower—if Kami owned one. The barn or garage could be hiding one, but now that he was close enough to see the piles o
f crap bulging against the door, it’d take weeks to sift through the stacks to find a mower underneath.

  And Pam had probably sold it if it’d been any good.

  She clapped the dust off her hands. “I can’t let you do it for free.”

  The stubborn stance was back. His mind spun to come up with a deal that wouldn’t cost her money. “Food. Lunches and dinner. I’ll do breakfast tomorrow before I come back.”

  She put her hands on her hips. He forced his gaze to stay on her face, not where her shirt pulled against her breasts. “That’s not an even trade.”

  She’d never tasted his cooking. “Then I’ll take the wood, too. We can burn it during our family parties. And we like to have a stash on hand in case a blizzard knocks out power.”

  “I thought you Walkers would all have generators.”

  “It’s always good to have another backup during our winters.”

  She shoved her hair off her face. Kambria was running toward the barn, chasing a cat. Kami glanced at him, then back to her daughter.

  “Deal,” she said before she rushed off. “Kambria. Stay out of the barn!”

  He followed, more out of curiosity. What had Earl done with that thing? No wonder he’d struggled with a dwindling herd if he didn’t have a good winter pasture and a barn to bring sick calves to rehab.

  Kambria stopped her trek. “I know, Mom.”

  “Yes, you know, but I don’t want you playing close to it, either. Do you hear that creaking?”

  They all went quiet. The wind was only ten miles an hour, but faint groans emanated from inside.

  “Fine.” Kambria dropped her head back and trudged away. Abruptly, she spun around. He jumped, but Kami didn’t flinch. “So did Travis talk to you about the horse ride?”

  “Kambria,” Kami groaned.

  Travis chuckled. He could’ve high-fived Kambria for bringing it up. “Absolutely. Since I’m taking the weekend off, why don’t we go when I finish tree clean up?”

  “I couldn’t—”

  “I have a horse for you, too,” he interrupted. “She’s not a barrel racer, but I think you two would get along.”

  “Mom used to barrel race,” Kambria broke in.

  “I remember,” he answered and grinned at Kami. “You have to promise not to challenge me to a race.”

  Kami playfully scowled at him. “Then don’t ride past my practice ring and tell me what I’m doing wrong.”

  He’d only suggested a few changes to her technique and within minutes they were lined up in her back forty, horses snorting, sensing the tension. He’d lost that race by more horse lengths than he could count.

  If Kami had listened to him, she could’ve taken first at the Fourth of July rodeo. But she hadn’t, and it’d been her last race.

  Was it how he said things that drove her off? Or did she become defensive when anyone gave her advice?

  “Fine,” Kami muttered again. Kambria whooped and twirled off. Kami shot him a bemused expression and peered into the barn.

  The door hung open, only attached by a bottom hinge. Must and old metal aromas wafted out. When she braced her arms on the frame and leaned to squint inside, he couldn’t keep his eyes off her shoulders. Her peach tank top molded against her body, exposing defined muscles in her arms and shoulders. The way her thighs filled out her jeans, he wouldn’t be surprised if she joined Kambria doing cartwheels and bridges.

  She pushed off the door, muscle rippling through her shoulders. “I can’t even. So much work. I’m just going to worry about the tree first.”

  Her hips swayed in her faded jeans as she made her way to their weekend project. He followed, content for the first time in…years.

  Chapter Four

  The next day, Kami once again parked at her mom’s place. Kambria burst out of the car, racing to tell her grandma that tonight was the night she’d get to ride horse.

  Her daughter had taken the disappointment well the previous night, but Travis had toiled for hours on that damn tree until the sun set. She’d packed lunches and made last night’s dinner in her mom’s place. After that, she’d had to begrudgingly invite him to her apartment for tonight’s dinner. The creaky folding chairs and card table at her mom’s wasn’t big enough for all of them, and cooking a real meal was hard when the oven cooked unevenly and only one burner worked on the stove.

  Kami had needed a night to talk down her hormones. Watching him, stripped down to a snug T-shirt, wielding a chainsaw like a boss, and flinging hunks of wood like they were soup cans left her needy and uncomfortable in a way she couldn’t remember. Even as a lust-filled teen looking for attention in the arms of insincere boys, she had known her reactions were superficial. It wasn’t until deep affection had grown for Ben and the respectful way he’d treated her that she’d realized there was more to sex than physical pleasure.

  But memories of her one night with Travis, and the way he was helping her now, threatened to confuse her good sense. She had to remember that he was only helping her because…she hadn’t figured that part out yet. Was he seriously interested in her?

  Her stomach fluttered. No, it didn’t matter. They’d been leagues apart as teenagers and time had only increased the gap.

  She gathered the cooler that contained their lunch and got out. She still owed him a meal since he’d had to leave.

  The front door to the house creaked open and Mom came out. Travis wasn’t here yet. Kami waved to her and went to the garage and threw open the overhead door.

  Her heart sagged at the sight of the overfull garage. Why’d Dad have to collect so much shit? If she thought there was anything in there that was worth money, she’d call American Pickers out here and give away everything.

  Setting the cooler around the corner out of the sun, she straightened and assessed the piles with a critical eye. How much could the dump handle and how many trips in the pickup would it take?

  Would her old pickup even start?

  Mom’s footsteps crunched behind her. “Kambria said the Walker boy’s coming back here.”

  Walker boy. He was twenty-eight. If she remembered right, his birthday was a month before hers. His mom had always sent the best cupcakes to school. Even when they weren’t in the same classroom, he’d always given her one on the bus.

  “Yes. We’re trading food for labor.”

  Mom snorted. “The boy don’t want your food. What are you doing, Kami?”

  “I’m trying to come up with a plan of attack for this garage.”

  “I’m not talking about this dump. I’m talking about Travis. I’ll be honest, he’s always been a nice kid. Respectful when his parents weren’t. But if you start with Travis, you’re taking on his whole family.”

  Kami crossed her arms. “I’m not starting anything with Travis. He’s just helping.”

  “I don’t want him using you to get over his fiancée.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Moore was full of single women who’d go Fight Club over a chance with Travis.

  “Doc said he heard from Bunny—you remember their cousin who’s a vet, too?—that he goes to help Michelle’s parents all the time. He’s like a son to them, and since their boy lives across the country, they’ve really come to depend on Travis since their daughter died. He commented to Bunny that the emotional loss aged them like twenty years.”

  “He and I aren’t anything.” No one could ever get over the loss of someone special, but he wouldn’t use her. He’d never been that kind of guy.

  Then Mom ruined her mood by saying, “He’s certainly better than all them other boys you put out for.”

  Kami jerked around, making sure Kambria wasn’t nearby. “Why is my history always getting thrown back at me?”

  “Because I’m afraid you’re going to repeat it.”

  “I’ve only dated Austin since I’ve been back.”

  “Exactly.”

  Kami barked a laugh. “Don’t worry. Austin and I aren’t seeing each other anymore, and I’m not interested in seeing
anyone else. I have a daughter to care for, and now this place. I don’t have time for a man.”

  The rumble of an engine came down the drive. The thrill of getting to see Travis was overwhelming. She was going to have to resist all offers of his help if she was this bad off.

  Her mom’s stare burned into her. “Make sure you remember that, just like you make sure to remember that his family never once offered to lend a hand when Earl died. I think they were waiting for me to give up so they could swoop in.”

  Those dark days filtered through her memory. The quietness had been the most notable. No one stopped by with food or paper towels and napkins. Three pews in the church had been filled for the memorial service. Then silence. Weeks later, she and Mom started loading cattle for sale.

  Travis parked by the remains of the tree and waved at them.

  “Your help is here,” Mom murmured as she brushed past.

  Travis climbed out and swaggered toward them in all his farm boy glory. Tall, with his navy blue hat and a matching shirt so snug she could count his abs, his long strides quickly ate up the distance between them. No one could guess he’d worked a fourteen-hour or more day yesterday.

  “Mornin’, ladies.” His easy grin warmed her in more places than she wanted to admit. He nodded to her mom before his bright gaze landed on her. “It should go quick today.”

  Kami could only agree. He was hard to be around yesterday when she’d had frustration and desperation fueling her, but on a fresh day, she’d likely start simpering and batting her eyelashes.

  “Let’s do it, then.” She hadn’t meant to bark the order, but she could not get her hopes up about whatever was between them. The only relationship that took priority was her and Kambria.

  Travis ducked his head, his expression serious and jogged to his truck. Her mom shot her a warning look before stomping off.

  Kami worked by Travis’s side for hours. Sweat rolled down between her shoulder blades, and she threw her hair up in a ponytail. Travis never complained, but steadily hacked at the giant limbs, cutting them to size. His biceps when he ran the chainsaw…