“Will do, Travis. And thank you.” The sorrow in the man’s voice… He wanted to shut his eyes against it, but crashing a fence wouldn’t help either of them. He’d have to give Kami a heads up that he might have company one night and she’d get the night off. Then he’d have to talk to her about why he’d procrastinated about telling Phil and Della that he’d started dating again. She’d understand their pain, no doubt, but she wouldn’t know the guilt that festered inside of him.
The haying done, he ambled home. Dad jogged out of the house to help him unload the attachment and park the tractor in the shop. Travis relayed his plans for the night.
Dad was hesitant. “She’s coming over tonight? Your mother might be kind of disappointed. She didn’t feel like we got to visit much with you over the weekend.”
Yeah, he spent Sunday morning cradled in Kami’s lush body and the afternoon welding a busted gate in his horse pasture. But Mom had never complained about Michelle coming over, or if he’d been in Fargo when they came to visit.
“Well, I’m here all night,” Travis said with a note of finality in his voice. “And Kami is my guest.”
He and his dad finished and walked together back to the house. Nothing more was said about Kami, and that was unusual for his dad. He’d always asked about Michelle. The thing with Kami was new. Travis had to remember that his parents had known about her half a week. He couldn’t expect them to act the same way about her as they did with Michelle.
He ran through the shower and stepped into a clean pair of Wranglers and a fresh shirt. Buttoning the last button, he jerked when the doorbell rang.
When was the last time Kami had rang the doorbell? She had a key. He hated their act of not being as familiar with each other as they were, should’ve told her to just come in.
Mom beat him to the door. She was cool with Kami, and his woman’s rigid posture and tightly clasped hands sent alarms through him. He sidled next to her and slid his arm around her waist.
Mom held up a wine bottle and inspected the label. “Strawberry rhubarb. Where’d you say it was from?”
“A winery outside of Fargo. I like to try each flavor.”
“Hmm. Well, thank you.” Mom took off for the kitchen without another word.
Kami shot him a wide-eyed look. “Did I do something wrong?”
“Not at all. I think you catch her off guard.” And not in a good way, but at least Mom was civil.
“Brigit and Justin left already?”
“Yesterday.” He threaded his fingers through hers and led her after his mom. “It’s just us.”
They both smiled, but the same tension from the wedding was back between them.
Mom immersed herself in meal prep while he idly chatted with Kami. Her furtive glances toward his parents broke his heart. She’d mentioned her in-laws behavior toward her. Was she scared his parents would repeat it?
The actual meal simmered with animosity. He tried to share various bits of information about Kami with his parents, but his mom’s cold demeanor doused most of his attempts.
Somehow, he’d make this up to Kami.
Mom set down her fork, her expression neutral. “When do you think you’ll have Farmland Two out?”
She’d already asked. Where was she going with this? “I don’t know. I’ve been a little busy, and designing the first game was a hobby to fill my time.” Because Michelle had come down to Moore less and less often. “Maybe this winter I’ll revisit my plans.”
“You were so proud when you released the first one. I don’t want to see you lose momentum.” Her gaze strayed to Kami for a fraction of a second. “I’d hate for you to distract yourself until you forget what’s really important.”
The atmosphere in the dining room grew heavy. Kami placed her napkin on the table and folded her hands in her lap. Her back ramrod straight, it was like she’d been through this before. Knowing her dad and the tirades Travis had witnessed between his own dad and Earl English, she probably had. Nothing had ever been good enough for Earl. He’d held everyone up to an unreasonably high standard while his own standards were flushable.
His mom was not Earl, neither should she act like it. “I’m not distracting myself. Building games is a hobby. Hobbies are for when you have nothing else to do. I have other things to do and people I want to be around.”
He wanted to say more, but never in his life had he told off his mother, and he didn’t want to start now. They could be civil. Adults.
They’d always been so open about how proud of him they were. Disappointing them was akin to causing physical pain. He left the attitudes and flippant statements up to his siblings. He’d been Mom’s reprieve; the good kid. He’d have to tread carefully to keep from hurting both his mom and Kami.
Mom eyed him evenly. “I don’t want to see you make a mistake with something so important.” Her words clearly said she wasn’t talking about a game.
Kami watched him, her lips pressed together.
“Trust me, Mom. Everything’s okay.”
“And the research collaboration with the extension office? Are you helping author any papers?”
Travis shrugged. “I might be listed in the acknowledgements when they publish on the new corn seed we’ve tested for them. I got a call last week from an old graduate school buddy on how useful I might find a drone and if I was willing to help test one out. We meet next week.”
“Drones.” Rick snorted. “Back when I started with my dad, having AC was a luxury.”
Kami shot him an odd look, a mixture of curiosity and hurt. He’d have to ask about it when they were alone.
His mom smiled. “I can’t imagine them calling anyone else to help with their research. How are Phil and Della?” She switched her attention to Kami. “Did he tell you how much he helps them? Poor dears. Losing Michelle destroyed them. Their grief would have taken their business down if it wasn’t for Travis.”
Travis smiled and seized on the subject change, even if it wasn’t the one his mom had meant. “And you wonder why I don’t have to time design a game.”
“What do you do for them?” Kami asked, her voice soft.
“The planning. Phil’s running on autopilot right now. He’s getting there, but he needed my help.” Probably still needed him, but Travis could talk to Kami about that later. “How’d your in-laws do after Ben died?”
Mom folded her hands on the table but stayed quiet. Her gaze was serious, respectful. He hadn’t meant to use Ben’s death to legitimize Kami in his mom’s eyes. Phil had taken it so hard, Travis was understandably curious about how others dealt with the death of an adult child.
“As well as you could imagine. Everyone’s different, I suppose. They had a lot of support, a lot of love. I won’t lie that having Kambria around was huge in helping them through the worst of the grief. They get to see a little of him in her every time she visits.”
His mom smiled, but he couldn’t tell how sincere it was. “They must want her to visit a lot.”
“Quite often, yes.” Kami didn’t elaborate. “It’s all I can do to keep them from monopolizing her time.” Kami’s tone was light; the undercurrent of bitterness was probably only apparent to him. “They were distraught when I told them I was moving, but it was almost like living with overprotective parents. My only goal is to give my daughter the opportunity for experiences that I had. That includes a bigger space to live and run, a place where we can have some animals. It means the world to raise her where I grew up. It means the world to me that she sees me doing what I love, or working hard to achieve it. I couldn’t do that in Normandy.”
He studied his parents’ reaction. Dad was more at ease, but that’s how he usually was. He’d been reserved tonight, limiting his additions to their conversation. Mom’s expression had softened. His parents needed time to drop their idea of how perfect he and Michelle had been so they could see that Kami wasn’t her father or mother, or even the girl who had once broken his heart.
He wanted to stress how much more a
like he and Kami were than him and Michelle. “I can empathize. Moving back from Fargo couldn’t come soon enough. I was born here, and I’m gonna stay here.”
Mom chuckled. “This house has built quite the family legacy. I’m glad it’s in good hands.”
Kami cast him a look he couldn’t decipher.
His dad rested his elbows on the table. “What are you planning to do with your mom’s place, Kami?”
Kami glanced at Travis, her gaze wary. “I’m concentrating on going through Dad’s things and seeing what I have to work with. The sale won’t be final until the end of summer, so I’m taking inventory and making plans.”
Why wasn’t she sharing her sheep ranching plans?
“Any thoughts on what you’d put in the pasture?” Dad asked.
“I have lots of thoughts, but I’d like to take time and be thorough before I implement any ideas. This is not just my future, but my daughter’s.”
She avoided looking at Travis. Had she changed her mind? Regardless, he followed her lead and didn’t mention the excellent ranching plan she’d written up.
Mom stood. “Well, Travis was thoughtful enough to have frozen some rhubarb before it got woody. I made some rhubarb custard bars. Perhaps it will pair well with your wine.”
The mood lifted. Kami’s relieved smile was real. Travis sat back, fighting a grin. Kami had gone to the wedding with him and his parents were willing to give Kami a chance, however tentatively.
This was all working out well.
Chapter Thirteen
Tuesday dragged on. Kami waited tables, bussed them, and during the afternoon slump, filled ketchup bottles, all with her thoughts stuck on the previous night. They’d had a breakthrough of sorts. By the end of the night, Travis’s parents were more relaxed around her, more open during their conversation. Rick had peppered her with questions about her mom’s property as if he’d been dying to know the state of it since her dad had passed away.
She couldn’t blame him. Rick Walker had often suffered the wrath of Dad. Anything and everything that had gone wrong on the not-quite-working ranch, Dad had found a reason to blame the Walkers. Cash’s dad had gotten his share, but since Rick and Joan had lived closer, they were easier targets—other than her and her mom. She’d grown up with tirade after tirade and Mom’s frosty silence. Earl, you’re going to fret yourself into the ground.
And he had.
Rick Walker wasn’t faultless in the fights, but he treated her better than she’d ever witnessed him treating her dad, and that was a start. Just like Joan being almost pleasant was a huge improvement.
And Travis had played both sides as flawlessly as Ben had.
She rubbed her temples. Did she want more of the same of what she and Ben had? Or did she want Travis to put his foot down and tell his mom in no uncertain terms that she could not treat his girlfriend that way? Or was she really wishing she’d have the lady balls to tell Joan to stuff it, treat her respectfully or don’t talk to her at all?
Kami dropped her hands. Her workday was over. She said goodbye to her coworkers and meandered to the backroom to clock out, grateful to leave the overwhelming smell of grease and coffee behind. If only Dad could see her now. What would he say? That she should do better. What was the point of waiting tables if she could manage the restaurant? Kind of like what was the point of barrel racing if you didn’t place? After her first competition, he’d filled in the homemade barrel arena he’d erected and trashed the barrels. Or sold them. Hell, they could be buried in that decrepit barn.
Everyone thought she’d pick up racing again after he died, but it all had been his idea in the first place. Good thing she had talent and determination for gymnastics, and Mom’s adamant insistence that she participate in an activity not related to school. It’ll do her some good, build her confidence. Mom had stood firm on that but not much else.
Clocking out, Kami embraced the swell of excitement at the reminder that she was going to Travis’s to make supper. The feeling wasn’t as strong as it’d been in the past. She kept going back to how he’d easily diverted the conversation instead of calling out Joan’s behavior. But their relationship was so young. Was she being unfair to expect so much so soon?
There was a bright side. Hiding it was no longer necessary, though. She and Travis could go on real dates. She had no reason to think he was ashamed of being seen with her after the wedding and dining with his family. Or that this thing between them, the raging chemistry, was anything other than a fluke, or an excuse for him to drown his heartache.
Her smile died as she trudged to the parking lot. He hadn’t talked about Michelle much. Did he even notice all the pressure his mom put on him? The games. The research collaborations. The drones. At one point, Kami wondered if dating Michelle had been Joan’s idea.
She’d ask about Michelle tonight. It was time for him to open up. Their relationship was more than sex, but he kept a part of him closed off from her. Like, drones? How cool! Yet he hadn’t mentioned a thing.
Did he think she wasn’t smart enough to understand?
The drive out to his place was an exercise in moving meditation. Rows of lush green poplars and cottonwoods alternated with evergreens to create the shelter belts that broke the wind between fields. Crops that ranged from corn to soybeans to sunflowers surrounded her. She passed Cash’s place and Dillon’s across the road. Dillon’s side was surrounded by trees, and cattle roamed the pastures around Cash’s place, with a section just for the horses. She spotted Mandrell, but Reba and Crystal Gale were at Travis’s place. Brock’s area was quiet, the old red barn rising above the trees around his place.
The long road ended in a loop reminiscent of a cul de sac. Aaron’s driveway disappeared into his own trees that protected the property from the bitter north wind that blew through the land all winter. She turned into Travis’s drive.
The two men couldn’t be more different. Both good-looking, but Aaron’s constant rumpled state was at odds with Travis’s preppy farm boy look. She’d seen a different side of Aaron at the wedding. He could clean up as handsome as his cousins, his easy grin making him the more approachable one. Funny how she’d gone to school with all of them, only Travis was in her grade, but he’d been the only Walker she was attracted to. She knew the others through sports and bus rides, heard what the girls giggled about, but Travis had caught her eye and kept it.
Letting herself into the house, she swore.
Zero meals were planned for the week. She’d been so eager to get here, she hadn’t thought about ingredients or groceries. The stress of the wedding, the event itself, and the following day of basking in Travis’s undivided attention prevented her from planning anything about this week other than showing up.
In the kitchen, she rummaged through cabinets and the fridge. Joan had left Travis with enough leftovers for both of them tonight. She pulled out the chicken and pasta and dished some onto plates.
The familiar rumble of Travis’s truck was clear in the kitchen. All she had to do was nuke a couple of plates. They’d wait. She abandoned the food on the counter and slipped her shoes back on. Listening close, she followed the sounds of his truck to the shop at the farthest loop of his driveway.
“Hey.” She called loud enough to be heard over the drone of his diesel engine.
He popped out from around the Ford. “Oh, hey.” Glancing down at himself, he held his arms out wide. “I’m not really presentable.”
She’d disagree. In dusty jeans, even dustier work boots, and a green T-shirt that had smears of black across it, he looked like he should be on a poster. “I think I’ll live.”
She sauntered into the shop. The place was as immaculate as a shop could be. A nice, poured cement floor, with clean metal walls; the fluorescent lights chased all the shadows away. How much did something like this cost? Had they done any of the work themselves, or hired it out? Because she’d have to hire out and it’d probably cost as much as the purchase of the land.
Add in the cost of de
molition of the old barn and tiny shack of a shop her dad had kept, and she was screwed six ways from Saturday. She couldn’t ranch a damn thing without a shelter.
A worry for another day. A major consideration, but her optimism and determination were fading fast, and she couldn’t dwell on it.
Travis fell in step beside her as she wandered around with building envy. “I’m getting the tractor ready for raking tomorrow.”
Oh, the haying. “Because it’s supposed to rain tonight.”
“We’ll rake the rows to dry and it should be ready to bale by the weekend.”
The bales would bring in a little cash, but not enough to cover any of the major work she had to do. But it was a start. Fall was a popular month for weddings, and she could pick up some bartending shifts for the receptions. The extra time away from Kambria tore at her heart, went against her sole purpose for trying to make a successful ranch.
“What’s wrong?”
She smiled up at him. They’d ended up at the tractor. The red piece of equipment towered over her, much larger than anything her dad had ever owned. The comparison of the two operations was disheartening. Before Travis and his cousins took over, their business was a testament to both industries—farming and ranching. Now, it outshone anything in the county and competed with the lucrative sugar beet farmers in the Red River Valley.
“I’m contemplating things.”
“Like what?” He pivoted to face her. “Us?”
“A little.” She stepped into his embrace, her face buried against his chest. His scent wrapped around her. The smell of exhaust and the field and man more alluring than his shower-fresh smell, which was its own aphrodisiac. “The drone thing sounds cool. How come you didn’t mention it?”
“Ah. I would’ve gotten around to it, but you don’t grill me like my mom.”
That was for sure. “Speaking of that, how do you think last night went?”
“I think we made progress.”
She pulled back enough to look at him. “Are you satisfied with that?”
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