Guilt Ridden

by Marie Johnston

  Not that he’d move there. He had his home, the one he’d literally been born in, thanks to a winter due date and drifted-in roads, and he’d raise his own family there one day.

  He and his cousins had talked about how they’d leave the lot empty and if his brother or sister or one of his other cousins ever moved home, they could build. Otherwise, they’d have to hire additional help in order to expand.

  But that was him and four cousins he worked with. Who’d Kami have?

  “Is it just you?”

  She kicked her chin out. “Yes. Me and Kambria.”

  He pushed his plate to the side and folded his hands on the table. The steam from the omelets was dwindling; neither of them had touched their food. If he could only get her to see that she’d be better off using her money with some other venture. “It’s going to be excessively difficult to do on your own. You’ll have the cost of buying the place, but then there’s buying stock. Although you’d probably qualify for a low-interest loan for new farmers. Leafy spurge has filled the pastures, and while it’s not impossible to get cows to graze in it, it can take time and patience. Did you know that your mom sold all the equipment after she sold off her cattle? Hauling bales to the herd is going to be impossible without a tractor.”

  Kami leaned over the table. “You’re so certain I can’t do it.”

  The venom of her tone caught him off guard.

  It must be hard for her to give up the place she’d grown up in. But the land itself would need a lot of cleaning before they could plant any cover crops for feed. The pastures were full of junk—the top half of an old bus that was used for a calving shelter, twisted fencing wire, and the old cars… His dad had suspected Kami’s mom accepted money from people who wanted to dump vehicles and old tractors. Easy money for little to no work. The effect was a blemish on the land. Ugly, twisted metal marred the natural beauty of the pastures.

  “Kami, that place needs a lot of work before it can make any kind of money.”

  “And you think I don’t know that?” Her voice raised in both volume and pitch. And while her anger only intensified her strength and beauty, he didn’t want it directed at him.

  Holding his hands up, he tried to diffuse the explosive potential of the conversation. “I didn’t say anything about your capabilities. But…”

  It was the “but” that ruined his attempt. He knew it as soon as it left his mouth.

  “But what? But I’m a single mom? But I have no college degree? But the only thing I’m good at is pouring drinks and picking up men? Take your pick of all the buts I’ve been told my whole life. Here’s a but for you—” she smacked the table with the flat of her hand and the ice in their glasses clinked, “—I have the money and I’m buying my home.”

  She slid out of the booth.

  “Wait!”

  She spun around, fire blazing in her gaze.

  He frantically searched for a way to keep her from leaving. The cooling food on the table was the best reason he could come up with. “You didn’t touch your plate.”

  Her gaze dipped to where her food sat untouched. She dug into her purse and took out a twenty and slapped it on the table.

  “No,” he protested. “I’ve got this.”

  “I’m not your charity case. And neither is my mother.”

  He slumped in his booth as she swept out of the restaurant. His omelet was no longer appetizing, and now he had two of them. He almost got up to go after her and offer her a ride, but he doubted Kami Lee English—Preston—had lost her stubborn streak. She was too much like her dad.

  Chapter Three

  Kami steered Ben’s Saturn over the gravel roads that led to the hunk of flimsy trailer house she’d grown up in. Another yawn interrupted the trip. She’d gotten no sleep last night, stewing about the conversation with Travis the whole time. And the financial corner she’d backed herself into.

  If Austin hadn’t danced on all her insecurities when she’d brought up buying the empty store, maybe she wouldn’t have blown up at Travis. Her mom might not be selling, but Travis had highlighted a problem. Eventually, something had to be done with the place, and the sooner the better, otherwise it could be a money drain. Money they didn’t have.

  How easy it would be to sell to the Walkers. They’d swoop in with a big “You’re welcome” and work a mighty profit out of the place, all while assuming she and her mother were useless.

  The placating look on Travis’s handsome face… Her fist tightened around the wheel. She hated being on the receiving end of that look. Somehow it seemed worse because it was from Travis. Even after she’d slept with him and ran back to Austin, believing what everyone said. A man that smart was only interested in her for one thing, and he’d gotten it. Who was she to think he’d want to stick around? But he’d treated her respectfully the few times they spoke before she’d moved. Until last night.

  That place needs a lot of work.

  She let out a disgusted sound. Like she didn’t know.

  “What, Mom? Did you say something?”

  Kami glanced in the rearview mirror where her daughter’s flaxen head was bent over the electronic device that might as well sprout from her palm. “You would know if you weren’t buried in that phone.”

  Kambria lifted her brows in the I’m not rolling my eyes so I can’t get in trouble way.

  Ben’s parents had bought her the phone, making it sound as if a responsible mother would’ve already gotten her one. They insinuated Kambria was in dire danger as she waited at home for a whole forty-five minutes after school before Kami’s shift was done at the diner. She argued that her daughter had a phone, a small pay-as-you-go one that cost barely a cent to keep up. They’d insisted on a “reliable” smart phone.

  And what Ben’s parents wanted, they got.

  Kami pulled into the mile-long drive that led to a rundown house nested in ratty trees. Somehow, Ben’s parents and her mom got along excellently, leaving Kami swimming alone in well-intentioned waters. Her mom with a questionable reputation and a failing farm and Ben’s parents with their Lexus and pensions had bonded over their young kids expecting a baby when they should’ve been deep into their freshman year of college. None of them had wanted her and Ben to get married, but he’d been the strong one in the relationship. Kami had gladly stepped aside and let him fight their parental battles. As the straight-A football player, his words had seemed to hold more credibility.

  Unfortunately, an arrangement that had worked when he was alive failed her completely when he died. It wasn’t that none of them took her seriously; they just lacked all faith in her competence and ability to accomplish anything.

  They neared the house, and Kambria plastered her face against the window. “OMG, Mom. Grandma’s tree fell!”

  Kami’s gaze flicked to the tree, an old willow that had shaded half the front yard and had been the best climbing tree ever looked destroyed. The ragged stump jutted about six feet off the ground, the heavy limbs piled underneath. Black mottled branches gave it an ominous appearance.

  “It was really sick.’’ If Ben were alive, he would’ve chopped it down and hauled it out. Anyone else would charge more than Mom could handle.

  “Aw, that’s too bad.” Kambria’s mournful tone made Kami smile. Full of attitude one minute, back to sweet little girl the next.

  Kami parked in front of the house. The big garage ten yards away was full of crap her mom couldn’t sell. Nothing useful, like a tractor that could haul big, round bales. Kami chewed the inside of her cheek as she pondered the possibility of buying this place.

  Switching her future options from opening a gymnastics academy to ranching wasn’t a natural transition. What did the two have to do with each other? Nothing, other than they both were huge parts of her life.

  Buying the space for her gymnastics academy would leave her and Kambria in a tiny apartment while renovations were done. She’d have a lot of stress hiring and training coaches and building up class size to where they could support th
e facility. Learning to run a business was another huge hurdle, along with finding adequate fund-raisers and steady sponsors. The community was supportive, and she was a local girl, but she was still Earl and Pam English’s daughter. A nobody born of nobodies with no credentials behind her name to give sponsors the warm fuzzies to hand money over. It had been a decision fraught with indecision, but she’d made it.

  Then Travis.

  Ranching was a business she knew. She’d helped her dad, which also meant she probably learned a lot of the wrong ways to do business. She’d been in gymnastics since she was four and she’d ranched just as long. The knowledge, the experience, to run a ranch was in her. Somewhere.

  What she didn’t have was the right equipment, the time it’d take to repair all the fences, or any livestock. But she had a job. Two, actually. And she could start small.

  She and Kambria could move into this place while her mom could finally escape the gravel roads that clogged up so badly in the winter.

  Kambria took off after the cat-size shadows disappearing behind the barn. Another reason why she didn’t want to lose access to a place where her daughter could run like a kid and have animals.

  Kami eyed the house she’d grown up in as she climbed out of her car.

  She so didn’t want to move back here. It had lacked character and any sort of special features beyond windows that opened when she’d grown up in it, and now it was just rundown.

  Yes, getting her mom out of it was a good idea. Getting her and Kambria in it—not so hot of a plan.

  Her mom came out onto the sagging deck. Mom was a little shorter than her without the muscle tone Kami had built up in her gymnastics career. Her blond hair now needed help to stay blond, but she looked much younger than fifty-eight. “Hey. What’s up with you two for the weekend?”

  It wasn’t unusual for them to stop out, but Kami often called first. This was a conversation she wanted to have in person so her mom knew she was serious about her plan, no matter how impulsive it was.

  “I ran into an old friend last night and he’d heard a rumor that you were thinking about selling.”

  Mom rolled her eyes. “Doc and his big mouth. He’s stuck with an arm up a cows’ behinds all day that I swear he loses his filter when he gets around real people.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because I’ve been trying to convince myself it’s a good idea. This is my home, Kami. It was your grandparents’ home.” She indicated all the land behind Kami. “Not even your dad could destroy it. I stayed out of pure stubbornness even though I was past the point of trying to start all over again.”

  “The Walkers want to buy it.”

  Mom snorted and crossed her arms. “Of course they do. It’d be perfect for them, and they’d probably try to point out all the reasons why my asking price is too high. As if they couldn’t afford it.”

  “I can afford it,” Kami blurted. So much for easing into the topic of her buying it.

  “You can’t be serious.” Mom peered at her. “You are. Kami Ray Preston, how the hell do you think you can buy—” She straightened with a knowing nod. “Ben’s life insurance. His mom has been asking if I knew what he’d had. She didn’t believe her son’s job wouldn’t have come with a plan, but you never said anything. Not that you ever do,” she muttered.

  Good god, if she’d mentioned Ben left behind a three-hundred-thousand-dollar policy, then his mom would’ve “should” on her all over the place. You should put it away for Kambria’s college. You should buy a decent house. You should let us take care of the details.

  They’d pelt her with their suggestions until she caved and turned control over to them. Just like they’d had with the burial, her old house in Normandy, and had started doing with Kambria.

  They were the real reason she’d moved back to Moore.

  “I had other ideas for it, but we need to save this place, Mom. Keep it in the family.”

  With a heavy sigh, Mom nodded. “I agree, but I won’t be any help. One fall off a horse and my bad back is done. But I can’t let you take on my problems. It’d just be selfish because I don’t want the Walkers to have it. They have everything so damn easy. If they want to expand their operation, I ain’t gonna bend over backwards to help them like everyone else in this county.”

  Kami didn’t argue. She knew the feeling. The Walkers made everything look easy, always had. While her dad had raised his blood pressure to dangerously high levels stressing over fences and new gimmicks to make money. Those random ideas now clogged the barn, the Walkers rolled by with a new tractor. Or a new horse appeared in their pasture. Their trucks got bigger, and so did the smiles on their faces around town. Since Kami had moved back, she hadn’t seen any change.

  “Mom, it’s not selfish to want to fight for a legacy. For the gift of passing land on to your grandchild. For the gift of a childhood that didn’t include waiting at home alone in a small apartment.”

  “Land is one thing, but if you have the money, why not set it aside for Kambria?”

  “I already have. I invested some.” And that was before Ben’s mom had started nagging. “But I’m more interested in creating opportunities for Kambrai to grow. I want her to… I want her to see me doing something more than scraping to get by.” And I want to be able to talk to a man like Travis Walker and not feel like he’s so far above me that I must look like a scavenging mouse.

  Her mom pondered her words. This. This was another reason why she’d moved back. Mom had her moments when she listened, really listened to what Kami had to say. Those moments were far and few between, like when Ben had proposed and Mom said that was the craziest idea she’d ever heard. Two eighteen-year-olds getting married and settling down without trying to go to school. It’d never work.

  Kami had made it work.

  Dammit, she’d make this work, too. And her mom took her seriously far more often than Ben’s parents.

  “Mom!” Kambria sprinted by. “A horse!”

  She ran down the drive, her arms waving. A horse came down the ditch with a rider who swayed with the motions, his body relaxed, his head tilted so the brim of his navy blue hat blocked the bright June sun.

  “Good lord,” her mom muttered. “She’s gonna spook the horse.”

  “No.” She patted her mom’s arm and infused a hint of sarcasm in her tone. “It’s one of the Walkers. Their horses are just as perfect as they are, and I remember Patsy Cline. She’s a calm one.”

  Kami didn’t rush after her daughter. The rider was clearly Travis. She’d know the wide set of his shoulders anywhere. Beyond that, she’d secretly spied on him out riding when they were kids and her brain hadn’t let go of the way he rode.

  Travis wouldn’t let anything happen to Kambria, or he’d politely excuse himself and nudge Patsy Cline away if he didn’t trust his horse around her. Responsibility had been one of the many points of attraction she’d had with him.

  Her daughter chattered excitedly, keeping pace with the horse. Travis laughed, his gaze lifting. Kami swallowed hard. The man was much too potent in broad daylight. Kambria was holding her hands together, pleading with him.

  Please don’t beg him to ride. Kami held back a groan. The girl loved all things animal and had relentlessly asked about horses since they’d moved back. We can ride now, right, Mom? Grandma has that land. As if a tiny apartment was the only obstacle to owning a horse.

  They approached with the crunch of hooves on the gravel drive.

  “Tell you what,” he said, his voice too deep for his own good. “You get your mom to sign off on it and you both can come out anytime planting’s done.”

  Kambria blasted past him. “Mom, did you hear that?”

  Ugh, it was hard to hold onto righteous anger when he was such a nice guy. “What are you doing here, Travis?” She kept the hostility out of her tone and barely managed to not sound breathy.

  “I was taking Reba here out for a spin and I saw your car drive by. I wanted to check in.”


  That was not a warm glow that lit her insides. “Kambria, why don’t you go play? Just stay away from the tree.”

  “But, Mom—”

  Kami shot her the same look she’d just gotten from her own mom. Kambria’s shoulders fell and she jogged to the shed where three cats lounged in the sun.

  Travis whistled low. “That tree’s done for.”

  Kami glanced at the remains of the willow. Reality seeped in. Her weekend to-do list just turned into finding any tools left in the garage or barn and tackling the massive limbs. Fuck, she’d need a chainsaw.

  Get it, girl.

  Somehow, her fierceness from last night had dwindled.

  Travis tipped his head in greeting. “Pam.” He swung down from Reba. Kami tracked his long legs and the ripple of his muscles under his emerald green shirt and crisp blue jeans.

  How did he not even look dusty? She’d bet that if she took her favorite Ariat boots out of the closet that she hadn’t worn since she found out she was pregnant, they’d look dirtier than Travis’s boots.

  “How’re your parents doing, Travis?” Mom sounded polite, but like she wouldn’t mind hearing they ran into money troubles and were arguing constantly.

  “Good. Lovin’ Arizona.” His sly smile was teasing. “But I think they just like to tell me how nice it is there when I’m plowing drifts of snow taller than me.”

  Her mom chuckled, her humor genuine. Was she like Kami? Wanted to hate the man, but he made it impossible. Damn Walker charm.

  His gaze met hers, his smile died. “I’m afraid I may have spilled some false news to Kami.”

  Mom shook her head. “It ain’t false. Actually, we were discussing that very thing. Kami’s going to buy the place.”

  Kami sucked in a breath. Triumph didn’t explode within her. This was happening. She was buying all the pastures and fields around her, along with the dilapidated out-buildings and feeble house. She’d be a business owner all right. Disappointment rose that she couldn’t go back to coaching, wouldn’t get the thrill off seeing her gymnasts in competition.