* * *
“I don’t understand.” Travis stepped through the threshold, shifted T.J.’s carrier, and pushed the front door shut with his boot heel. “I explained all about the booms and such. Just can’t figure why they got so perturbed.”
Ducking a shoulder, Peggy shrugged off the diaper bag strap and lowering the stuffed vinyl case onto the sofa. She placed Ginny’s carrier on the coffee table, biting back a smile as she unfastened the little harness and scooped the warm little body into her arms. “Don’t take it personally, Travis. Babies are notorious for disliking loud noises.”
“Aw, it wasn’t all that loud,” he grumbled, situating T.J.’s carrier beside the now-empty one from which his sister had just been removed. Nested in the padded interior, the baby dozed peacefully, his button nose poised above a butterfly of blue plastic. T.J. jerked slightly as Travis expertly wiggled the pacifier to break suction, then eased it from between the infant’s quivering gums. “They didn’t even look at all those pretty lights.”
Peggy cradled her daughter and skipped a loving kiss across her fuzzy crown. “I wouldn’t hold that against them. It’s kind of difficult to see pretty lights when you’re wailing so hard that your eyes are glued shut.”
Travis, who still refused to handle the infants unless they were safely nestled in a protective carrier or stroller, made no attempt to remove the sleeping baby boy. Instead, he tucked the moist pacifier in the diaper bag, then sat glumly on the sofa, staring at his knees. “I thought they’d have fun.”
“If it makes you feel any better, everyone else had fun. Watching you flit from baby to screaming baby, wringing your hands and begging for divine intervention in no less than three languages was the highlight of our evening.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Why, yes, as a matter of fact, being the donkey-butt of y’all’s entertainment just pleases me no end.”
“Good.” She slipped a sly grin over her shoulder and shifted Virginia in her arms. “Now that we’ve settled that, I think it’s time for beddie-bye. These two have had quite enough excitement for one night.”
As Peggy carried her wide-awake daughter into the nursery, she heard Travis issue a woeful sigh. A moment later, he entered the babies’ room toting T.J., carrier and all. He placed the carrier in the vacant crib, automatically pulled a fresh diaper out of a package on a nearby dresser and passed it over to Peggy, who already had her hand out.
Travis had never actually diapered a baby but had watched the procedure often enough to have the routine down pat, and handed over the powder can and tube of heat-rash cream in the proper order. When Peggy handed the items back, he dug a fresh pair of pink baby pajamas out of the dresser drawer. A few minutes later, the efficient duo repeated the entire procedure with T.J., who slept through the changing process with admirable determination.
“There you go, sweet girl,” Peggy murmured, placing the pink-bowed Texas elephant beside the bright-eyed baby girl. “Sleep tight.” Virginia yawned on cue and focused on the stuffed elephant that had become her favorite nighttime companion. As her baby eyelids slipped into snooze-mode, Peggy turned off the lamp, flipped on the soft orange night-light, and eased out of the room with a relieved sigh. “That ought to hold them for an hour or two.”
In the hallway, Travis scowled at his boots, scuffing a piece of carpet lint with his toe. “Can’t figure why they wouldn’t watch those pretty lights.”
“Oh, gracious, forget the silly fireworks, will you? But speaking of watching things…” She hurried into the living room to root through the stuffed diaper bag. “I know it’s in here. I distinctly remember—Aha!”
Travis ambled into the living room and peered over her shoulder. “What are you looking for?”
“This,” she said, wiggling a DVD case. “The grand finale of our evening’s entertainment.”
“A movie?”
“More or less.” She popped it into the player, grinning madly. “Sue Anne loaned it to me. Said I’d get a kick out of it.”
A wary glint darkened his gaze. “Sue Anne, huh?”
“Yep.” Peggy snagged his arm, ushering him to the sofa. “Sit.” When he hesitated, she placed flattened palms on his chest, giving a gentle push. He plopped backward onto the cushions. “Wait there.”
Fairly bursting with excitement, Peggy dashed into the kitchen, then returned with a bowl of potato chips and two cans of soda. “Refreshments,” she announced, placing the bowl on the coffee table. She slapped a cold can into his palm, kicked off her canvas deck shoes and wiggled her bare toes. “Aah. Now this—” she scooped up the remote control and punched a button with her thumb “—is gonna be great.”
The screen flickered with color and movement. A cheering crowd, brilliant sunlight spilling into an empty arena. The camera zoomed, focused on a metal gate, behind which an irritated horse tossed its magnificent head in challenge. A cowboy straddled the fence, eyed the beast with blatant trepidation, then yanked down his hat and prepared to mount.
Travis moaned.
“Go-o-o, Travis!” Peggy cheered as she gave a raised-fist salute to the screen. “Ride ‘em, cowboy!”
“I’ll kill her,” he muttered, covering his eyes. “My sister is dead meat.”
“Ooooh.” Peggy leaned forward, completely engrossed in the taped action. “Isn’t the horse supposed to wait until the gate opens before he does that? Geez, I didn’t realize you could jump that high, Travis. Umm, ripped your pants wide open. And in front of all those people, too.” She made a tsking sound with her tongue. “How embarrassing.”
Travis slumped forward, dropping his head into his hands.
Peggy, enjoying herself immensely, popped a chip into her mouth and settled back into the cushions. “At least you got back on,” she said between chews. “Good for you. Now the horse respects you.”
Giving up, Travis heaved a sigh, slouching back on the sofa. He glowered at the screen. “That’s Juggernaut, baddest bronc on the circuit. Only time I ever saw that horse smile was after he’d crushed a cowboy into sawdust.”
“Horses don’t smile.”
“That one does.” Travis bit into a potato chip Peggy held in front of his mouth, then wiped the crumbs away with the back of his hand. “Just watch.”
She did, bending forward, her gaze glued to the television. On screen, Travis had eased himself back onto the snorting animal and was wrapping a lariat of some sort around his right hand. “What are you doing, bonding with the saddle?”
“In bareback, the horse wears a holding harness, not a saddle. You’ve got to wrap your hand up tight or you’ll lose your grip on the upswing and shoot into the stands like a human missile.” He popped the soda can top and took a deep swig. “Juggernaut comes out like a Brahman, one big leap to the left, then circles right while his rear is kicking air. Hell of a ride.”
A cowboy wearing floppy chaps dropped off the fence, grabbed the gate’s pull rope with both gloved hands and tensely waited for the rider’s nod. When he finally got it, he yanked the gate open, scurried up the fence as the bronc exploded from the chute.
Peggy winced as Travis’s head jerked backward, then flopped forward with such force that his chin smashed into his chest. “Ouch. That’s gotta hurt.”
Travis shrugged. “Not as much as the landing.”
“Why do you keep grabbing that poor animal’s neck with your feet?”
“That’s called spurring. You’ve got to lay your back to the wall, keep your feet above the point of the bronc’s shoulders and keep working him to get points.”
“Well, no wonder the poor horse is so irritable. I think he’d give a smoother ride if you treated him with a bit more respect.”
“He’s not supposed to give a smooth ride. The bigger he bucks, the higher you score—”
Peggy gasped as the taped image of Travis suddenly somersaulted in the air and hit the ground with a crushing thud.
Travis flinched. “Unless that happens.”
Covering her mouth with her han
d, Peggy watched the crumpled form rise painfully, dust off and glare at the prancing animal that was snorting a victory lap around the ring. “Actually, that horse does seem to be pretty pleased with himself.”
“Told you.”
“I wouldn’t go so far as to say he’s smiling. Smirking, maybe.” She squinted at the screen, watching Travis limp back toward the fence, ego bruised and torn pants flapping in the breeze. “You know, you might consider switching to navy blue underwear. Those white briefs stand out like a neon fanny flag.”
He gave her a withering look. “Thanks for the pointer.”
“Don’t mention it. Rodeos look like great fun. I’d love to see one sometime.” She popped another chip into her mouth and washed it down with a swallow of soda as the scene segued into another segment. “The arena looks different.”
“That’s another rodeo. Danny got a video editor for Christmas a while back, and spliced together televised footage. The first piece you saw was filmed in Salinas, about six years ago. This one is—” he leaned forward, studying the film as the camera panned around an indoor arena flagged with advertisements and strewn with a thick layer of sawdust “—Austin, I think. An event where top-ten contenders were invited to put on a demonstration for charity.”
“You were in the top ten?”
“Only in saddle bronc. I wasn’t a contender in bareback until a couple of years ago, and I’ve never made finals in bull riding. But I will.”
“No doubt.” She watched the screen, utterly fascinated. “I’m really impressed.”
“Why?”
“Heck, you’re practically a champion. I’d say that’s impressive.”
“Fact is—” He paused to bite off half of the chip she held up for him and chewed a moment before continuing. “Fact is, I topped saddle bronc points two years running.” He cleared his throat and rubbed a thumb over the embossed silver belt buckle.
“You actually won the championship?”
A humble shrug didn’t match the proud gleam in his eye. “A couple of times. ‘Course, I was healthy then.”
“Wow.” She flopped back, bowled over by the revelation. “Imagine that. I’m actually sharing potato chips with a world champion.”
Travis plucked a fat chip from the bowl and held it up to her lips. “Guess that makes you a champion’s lady.”
Their eyes met, held. “Am I your lady, Travis?”
He didn’t answer right away, but his eyes softened, glowing with amber lights. “If you want to be.”
Without taking her gaze from his, she nibbled the edge of the chip, allowing her lips to brush his fingertips. A quiver ran down his arm. His jaw twitched. Emboldened, she scraped her teeth along the crispy ridges, until he eased the entire chip into her mouth. She chewed slowly, provocatively, then deliberately moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. She knew the gesture was erotic, enticing. She meant it to be, because Travis’s gaze was riveted on her mouth, on the sensual circle of her tongue slipping in and out, in and out.
In a rational moment, Peggy would have been horrified by such brazen behavior, but this wasn’t rational. Peggy wasn’t rational. She was awash with sensation, a fluid, flexing warmth that drowned her inhibitions in a flood of deep yearning, desperate desire.
Travis sucked a quick breath. He flicked the corner of her mouth with his fingertip, as if brushing away crumbs. Before Peggy could consider the consequence of her actions, she instinctively turned toward his touch and licked the salt from his fingers.
He shuddered so violently that the couch creaked, then cupped her face between his palms, questioning her silently. She responded by parting her lips and raising her chin. Her heart raced, pounding her rib cage with such painful intensity she feared it would burst. She knew he was going to kiss her, knew her world would change when he did. Yet she wanted him, welcomed him, opened her scarred heart to him, trusting he would cherish it as no other man had.
Travis lowered his head, his eyes still searching hers. He paused painfully, so close she could feel the warm condensation of his breath, smell its salty tang.
Panicked that he would withdraw, she clutched his shirt, tangling her fingers in the fabric. At the same time, her mouth sought his, found it, took it greedily.
His response was instantaneous and explosive. Muscles rippled, tightened. She was crushed in an embrace that thrilled her with intensity at the same time she was unnerved by its power. Every inch of her body reacted to him, to the convulsive flare of emotion erupting from her innermost core.
Travis wasn’t simply kissing her. He was making love to her with his mouth, with his hands, with the rhythmic ripple of muscle and bone vibrating from the very depth of his body and his soul. Strong fingers tangled in her hair. His tongue teased, his lips tasted, absorbed each nuance of her mouth, her throat, the pulsing sweetness at the curve of her shoulders, until her blood blazed with a desire beyond anything she’d ever experienced.
Then, with startled abruptness, explosive power was replaced by exquisite tenderness as Travis cupped her face between his palms, gently nuzzling her lips, her eyelids, tracing her brow with delicate kisses. He laid his cheek against her forehead, shivered, then pulled away slowly, as if exercising monumental control.
He swallowed hard. “I shouldn’t have done that. I had no right.”
Peggy smiled, tracing the line of his twitching jaw with her fingers. “I think a champion has a right to kiss his lady, don’t you?”
“I’m not a champion anymore.”
Peggy saw the sadness creep into his eyes, and her heart ached for him. Sue Anne had told her about the disastrous injury that took Travis off the circuit, shattering his hopes of saving enough for the down payment on a ranch outside of Lubbock that he’d been yearning to buy.
Although Sue Anne hadn’t actually said that Travis would be unable to rodeo in the future, she’d certainly implied as much. Peggy could only imagine how devastated Travis must have been, not only to have his dream of being a ranch owner indefinitely postponed, but also being forced to give up the rodeo, which had been part of his life since he’d been a boy.
From Peggy’s perspective, Travis seemed to have accepted his fate stoically. Changing careers wasn’t easy, yet he’d made the transition from cowboy to cabdriver without losing his optimism, or the easy charm that had attracted her from the first moment she’d laid eyes on him.
Well, perhaps not the very first moment, since she’d been somewhat preoccupied at the time, but she’d certainly taken note of him when he showed up at the hospital and she’d experienced the full impact of those humorous, brown eyes and that crazy, lopsided grin.
The memory evoked a smile, which Travis apparently misunderstood. His brows puckered with worry. “Did you hear me, Peggy? I said I’m not a champion anymore.”
She pressed a fingertip to his lips, silencing him. “You’ll always be a champion, Travis. You’re my champion.”
A grateful smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. He lifted her hand to his lips, sweetly kissed her palm.
If happiness was fatal, Peggy would have died on the spot.
Chapter Nine
Peggy hunched over the handwritten ledger, correlating the scrawled ink figures and the colorful columns on the computerized spreadsheet. Grasping the mouse, she expertly clicked, scrolled, compared, until a mismatched total caught her eye. “Here it is.”
Sue Anne swiveled away from the dispatch center and propelled her wheeled steno chair over to the computer desk where Peggy was working. “You found the error?”
“This debit entry was keypunched as a credit, that’s all. I’ll just reverse the sign—” her fingers clicked over the keyboard “—and voila! The books balance.”
“Girl, you’re a certified genius.”
“Actually, accounting isn’t particularly difficult once you get the hang of it,” Peggy mumbled, studying a rather bizarre note on the expenditures column of Conway Cab’s internal ledger. She would have asked about it if Travis hadn’t
burst through the door, his eyes rounded in shock.
“The twins are in the living room,” he blurted. “Danny’s feeding them white stuff out of a bottle!”
Sue Anne gave her brother a wry stare. “Hello to you, too.”
Ignoring his sister, Travis crossed the room in two strides, slipped a proprietary arm around Peggy’s shoulder and brushed a kiss on her cheek. “Hi, honey,” he murmured against her skin. “So, what’s with this bottle business?”
“It’s formula,” Peggy said without glancing up from the monitor. “They’re growing so fast, the doctor suggested a supplement. If they do well on it, I’ll be able to wean them in a month or so.”
Travis was clearly horrified. “Wean them? They’re only eight weeks old.”
“Wean them off breast milk,” Peggy explained. “Words cannot express how excited I am by the prospect of actually wearing a bra without flaps, and since I must eventually venture into the world to earn a living, it would be nice if I didn’t have to worry about wet spots on the lapel of my power suit.”
“It does kind of spoil the administrative image,” Sue Anne agreed.
Travis, flushing to his hairline, was clearly flustered by the open discussion of such an intimately female matter. He cleared his throat, wiped a forearm across his brow and quickly changed the subject. “So, how did things go at city hall?”
Peggy and Sue Anne exchanged a telling look. “Not wonderful,” she admitted. “My job is no more.”
He frowned. “They fired you?”
“Technically, they downsized me out of existence but the result is the same.” Peggy sighed and folded her arms. Her savings was nearly drained, and although her maternity leave officially ended next week, she’d been so busy looking for good day care that she hadn’t even considered the possibility that her job wouldn’t be waiting. “I was counting on that paycheck,” she murmured. “Fortunately, Sue Anne popped up out of nowhere and saved my life.”
Travis slid his sister a skeptical stare. “How’n heck did she do that?”
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