Texas Ranch Justice

by Karen Whiddon

  “That’s great news,” Vivian exclaimed. “But if it’s all the same to you, I’m not going back home until it’s 100 percent certain he’s not contagious.”

  “Mom hates germs,” Amber clarified.

  “It’s a good thing whatever is ailing me isn’t catching,” Hal put in. “Or Vivian would stay as far away from me as she could.”

  “True.” Vivian shrugged. “Now that you’re here, do you want to see your costume?” Her brown eyes sparkled with anticipation while she waited for Scarlett’s answer.

  In all the upheaval since Travis had gotten sick, Scarlett had somehow managed to entirely forget about the costumes. “Sure,” she answered, trying to summon up more anticipation. Clearly this ball and the costumes meant a lot to everyone here. She could only hope Vivian had picked something that was tasteful yet fun.

  “We’re flappers,” Amber told her once Vivian went to retrieve the outfits. “You’re actually going to be Bonnie, of Bonnie and Clyde fame. I wanted to be that, but they didn’t have the costume in my size. So I’m a flapper instead.” She winked. “No one will have ever seen a flapper like me.”

  To Scarlett’s relief, when Vivian showed her the costume, it wasn’t too risqué or, worse, tasteless. A black dress with white vertical pinstripes, a jaunty fedora hat with a small red feather and a plastic gun. “You do have a pair of black heels you could wear with this, right?” Vivian asked.

  “I do.” Scarlett smiled. “What does Travis’s costume look like?”

  Vivian and Amber exchanged glances. “It’s a white shirt, black vest with a red tie, black pants and a hat. You two will look cute.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I’m a mobster moll,” Vivian said proudly. “And Frank will be a gangster, just like Mike, Amber’s date.”

  Scarlett nodded. “I can’t wait to finally meet the elusive Frank,” she said.

  For a second, Vivian’s mouth tightened, but then she made a face and laughed. “He has been rather busy lately,” she said.

  “Busy?” Amber’s skeptical tone matched her expression. “Busy doing what?”

  “Painting.” Vivian looked at Amber. “Frank’s an artist.”

  “I love artists,” Scarlett said, choosing her words carefully. When she’d managed the gallery in Atlanta, it had seemed like everyone knew an artist of some sort, whether sculptor or painter, and wanted her to meet them so they could discuss a possible showing. At first, she hadn’t minded. Unfortunately, she’d learned rather quickly that the majority of these people didn’t have the right amount of talent or skill to become a professional artist.

  “Then you’ll love Frank,” Vivian said, beaming. “He’s amazing.”

  Judging by Amber’s comical attempt to keep her expression neutral and Hal’s sudden need to shuffle through the mail, Scarlett sort of doubted that.

  “Hey, didn’t you mention you’d once worked at an art gallery?” Vivian asked.

  Scarlett wanted to groan. “Yes, in Atlanta.”

  “Then you must be knowledgeable about art. If I set up a time at Frank’s studio, would you be willing to meet him and give him your opinion about his work?”

  Searching for a polite way to decline, Scarlett settled on the ambiguous we’ll see. She remembered what Hal had said about the other man’s work. Even though art was always subjective, she’d rather not get involved.

  But Vivian, being Vivian, pressed. “How about the week after the Halloween ball? I could check with him and then we can choose a day.”

  Still trying to not commit, Scarlett shrugged.

  “Great!” Vivian said, choosing to take this as agreement. “You can meet him at the ball, and then see his art once you know him.”

  The face Amber made behind Vivian had Scarlett struggling not to laugh. “Fine.” Giving in, she turned her attention to her costume. “I’m looking forward to this ball more than I thought I would.”

  Chapter 13

  After Scarlett left, Travis regretted sending her away. Yet he’d felt he had to, as the more the illness receded, the more being around her aroused his desire.

  That morning when she’d walked into the kitchen, tousled and still half-asleep, he’d gotten instantly hard. He’d wanted her so badly he could scarcely think, never mind form coherent words.

  Struggling to keep his body under control would have been difficult, never mind exhausting. And even as much as he knew he could arouse her passion to equal his, making love to her while he still might be contagious felt every sort of wrong.

  So he’d made her go. He knew his abrupt dismissal had hurt her—she wasn’t very good at hiding her feelings. He’d make sure and explain the truth later, once he could kiss her and hold her without fear of getting her sick too.

  Even so, once he got past his libido, he missed her. He missed her laugh, the way they could discuss the plot of television shows, cooking together, eating together. The more time he spent with Scarlett, the more he felt himself falling.

  And the more he knew he needed to resist her lure. He’d allowed himself to feel that way about Kendra, and when she’d accepted his proposal, he’d allowed himself to be swept up in dreams of a future with her. They’d made plans, even discussing children.

  And then she’d called it off. He’d been decimated, destroyed and ruined. There was no way in hell he wanted to put himself through that again.

  But he couldn’t manage to silence that small part of him that thought Scarlett might be different. That tiny seed of stubborn hope refused to go away. Despite logic telling him otherwise.

  He made it through the rest of the day, bored and out of sorts. Ready for his life to return to normal, he went to bed early.

  The next morning, he rose early and showered. He felt like a new man. No more aches and pains, not even the slightest bit of a headache. Taking his temperature just as a precaution, when the thermometer showed 98.6 he breathed a loud sigh of relief.

  Ready to go. Back to work, back to his normal life. He planned to throw himself into it with gusto. He needed some time away from Scarlett, time to get his head together.

  The next two days passed in a blur. Travis rose early and worked late, often falling into bed after grabbing a quick meal. His mother, Amber and little Will were still staying up at the main house, which actually suited him fine. He didn’t want to talk, he didn’t want to even think, so he used the alone time to keep himself busy.

  Unfortunately, next week was the big ball.

  On the evening of the third day, he drove home with bleary eyes and debated heading into town for a quick beer. When he saw his mother’s SUV and Amber’s little economy car in the driveway, he knew his idyllic oasis of peace had come to an abrupt end.

  He almost pulled a U-turn in his own driveway but knew with the way he’d been pushing himself, he’d be lucky to stay awake after having a beer and then driving back from town. Plus, he couldn’t delay the inevitable forever.

  At least when he walked in the door, the aroma of homemade fried chicken hit him. Mouth watering, he following the smell back to the kitchen. Vivian and Amber sat at the empty kitchen table, clearly having finished eating. Little Will had been playing with his toy cars on the floor. When he caught sight of his uncle Travis, Will jumped to his feet and launched himself forward, confident Travis would catch him.

  Of course, Travis did, right under the armpits. He lifted Will up, swinging him around and smiling at the joyous sound of a young boy’s laughter.

  When he set Will back on his own two feet, he admired the toy cars before searching for the plate of leftover chicken. He found it, covered in tinfoil, on the counter.

  “Help yourself, son,” Vivian said. “It’s great to see you all better.”

  “Yeah,” Amber seconded. “You look totally normal.”

  “Thanks.” His dry response made his sister grin.

  He m
ade himself a plate and grabbed a bottle of beer from the fridge. Sitting down, he dug in. He’d plowed his way through two pieces of chicken and started on a third when he realized the room had gone utterly silent. He looked up to find everyone staring at him.

  “Hungry much?” Vivian drawled. “Would you like some of my homemade potato salad to go with the chicken?”

  He stopped chewing long enough to nod. With the initial hunger pangs satisfied, he managed to wait while Vivian got out a bowl from the refrigerator and spooned two heaping mounds onto his plate.

  Then he went back to eating, tackling his plate with a single-minded determination until he’d finished. When he finally sat back in his chair and took a long drink of his beer, he thanked Vivian for an awesome meal.

  “You’re welcome,” she replied, clearly pleased. “It’s good to be home.”

  She filled him in on Hal. “I’m delighted that he’s feeling a bit better. I keep hoping he’ll beat this thing, whatever it is.”

  “Me too,” Travis said fervently. “Me too.”

  “I take it you weren’t too hard on Scarlett,” Amber teased. “Thanks for making us all sound crazy for warning her about you.”

  “You’re welcome,” he answered, stifling a yawn. Now that he’d eaten, all he wanted to do was go to sleep. While he tried to figure out a polite way to escape to his room, Vivian grabbed his plate, put the bones in the trash and rinsed the dish off before putting it in the dishwasher.

  “I think I’ll turn in,” he began.

  “Not yet.” His mother wagged a finger at him. “Don’t you want to see your costume?” Without waiting for an answer, Vivian went out to the hall closet and returned with something in a clear dry cleaning bag. “I’ve left Scarlett’s with her.”

  Feeling as if he ought to brace himself, he tried to appear interested. Truthfully, as long as he wouldn’t be wearing something weird, he really didn’t care. In the past when choosing his costume, he’d simply gone with whatever would be easiest. Instead of making the two-hour drive into Dallas, he’d always ordered online. This would be the first year since he’d been a child that he hadn’t chosen his own costume.

  “Take a look at this,” Vivian crowed. “It’s fantastic.” When she lifted up the plastic bag and showed him the gangster outfit, he breathed a sigh of relief. At least it wasn’t anything too crazy. In fact, it looked like something he might have chosen himself.

  “You and Scarlett will be quite the pair,” Vivian continued, not giving him a chance to speak. “I think she really liked her costume. Luckily, it fits her perfectly. We would have been running out of time to get it altered.”

  He eyed her. “I’m guessing you’re wanting me to try this on?”

  “Please? With the ball less than a week away, you know the alterations shops will be booked. Especially since there are only two.”

  Grabbing the costume, he covered his mouth to mask another yawn, retreated to his room and tried it on. The pants fit fine, but the white shirt wouldn’t even button over his chest. Which wouldn’t be a problem, since he had a white dress shirt, still in the wrapper, that he’d purchased for the wedding. The red tie, while a bit loud, would be fine, and he had an old pair of dress shoes that he could shine up.

  He opened his door and stuck his head out. “It mostly fits. I’ll have to use my own white shirt.”

  “Great,” Vivian called back. “I’m going to go take Frank his costume. I have some exciting news for him.”

  “Okay. And thanks for dinner and getting the costume.”

  When Travis emerged after changing back into his sweats, his mother had already left. Amber sat watching Will play. She looked up at Travis and shook her head.

  “She’s been going nonstop since we got back home. I’m getting the impression ole Frank has been making himself scarce, which makes Mom more intent on gaining his attention.”

  “What exciting news does she have for Frank?” he asked.

  Amber sighed. “Mom conned poor Scarlett into agreeing to give Frank a professional opinion on his work.” She grimaced. Frank was usually oddly secretive about allowing anyone to see his paintings or sculptures, but what little they’d been able to see had been terrible.

  He shook his head. “Something tells me Scarlett can handle herself.”

  “I sure hope so, for her sake. And it’s not Frank I’m worried about, it’s Mom.”

  When Amber got up to make a protesting Will take a bath and get ready for bed, Travis excused himself and went to his room. He’d been up since 4:30 and though it was only a little after 8:00 p.m., he could scarcely keep his eyes open.

  The next week passed in a blur. Travis continued to push himself at a breakneck pace, refusing to allow any time at all for introspective thoughts. Whenever one managed to creep in, he immediately refused to allow it.

  Except in his dreams. Those, he could not control. While he slept, Scarlett filled his arms, his mind, his heart. He woke every morning feeling bereft.

  Finally, the day before the ball arrived. He went to work as usual, though all the cattle had been either moved or sold, all the fences repaired and the horses brought in to closer pastures or, in some cases, the barn. All the hay had been baled and brought into the storage barn and, as the days had grown shorter, the ranch hands moved a little slower and took things easier.

  Except Travis. He continued to push himself at nearly impossible speed. He worked on the tractor instead of calling a mechanic, did all the horse worming and shots himself rather than delegate to his crew.

  Because tomorrow, he’d be putting on a costume and picking up Scarlett and taking her to the ball.

  He hadn’t talked to her at all since asking her to leave his house. Amber and Vivian had offhandedly kept him updated. While Travis felt guilty for not visiting Hal, he’d kept himself so busy that he’d actually had a legitimate excuse. Hal had called him a couple of times and they’d had long conversations. Travis suspected Hal knew why Travis kept himself absent, though the older man never asked.

  While Travis had known he couldn’t avoid Scarlett forever, he hoped he’d managed to build up his armor enough so when he saw her again, he could remain impartial instead of aching to rip her clothes off and make love to her like he did in his dreams.

  There had been no more threats, according to Amber. Scarlett, Hal and Delilah had fallen into a routine of sorts. Amber and Scarlett were still planning to go into town and have a girls’ night, though they’d had to postpone it until after the ball because Vivian had kept insisting she go with them.

  Since tomorrow was so important, Travis actually quit working at a normal hour and headed home. Vivian had said she’d be staying over at Frank’s and riding to the ball with him, and Amber had taken Will for a playdate with one of his friends in town.

  Which meant once again, Travis had his house to himself. Again, he thought of the couple of acres he’d asked Hal if he could buy, with plans of someday building his own house. He and Kendra had actually gone over plans, but when that relationship had fallen apart, Travis had scrapped the idea.

  For the first time in a long time, he thought about revisiting the possibility. And not because of Scarlett, he told himself. But because the time had come for him to have his own space. Since he couldn’t kick his mother and sister and nephew out, the only solution would be to move.

  He resolved to discuss the idea with Hal after the ball.

  The Halloween Harvest Fair and Costume Ball was the culmination of a season. Since the end of October signified the end of harvest, everyone turned their attention to the upcoming holidays. Life on the ranch slowed down a little.

  Travis went into his room to double-check his costume. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d forgotten something. And then he remembered. It had been so long since he’d taken a date to the ball, he’d forgotten about the wrist corsage he was supposed to buy Scarl
ett. The old tradition had started back in the 1950s.

  Checking his watch, he figured he had time to drive into town and stop at June’s Florist. While she took custom orders, she also kept lots of extras stocked.

  He hopped back into his truck and headed to downtown Anniversary. Since he had to go right past the country club, he saw the decorators were already at the venue, getting set up for the festivities later.

  When he pulled up to June’s, he lucked into a parking spot two doors down. He got out and hurried inside, hoping he wasn’t too late and that she hadn’t sold out.

  Only three corsages remained in the refrigerated case near the back counter. Two were sad little things, beginning to wilt. The third, a grouping of red-and-white flowers, seemed too large to decorate a wrist. But since beggars couldn’t be choosers, he told the salesclerk he’d take that one. Waiting while she boxed it up, he waved to June working frantically in the back. Once he’d paid, he took his small box and headed out. He had plenty of time to drive home and get ready.

  “Hey, Travis. Got a minute?” The voice belonged to Bubba Weber. His family owned a large sheep ranch and their land butted up against the HG. Wave Oil had been bugging him too, so much so that Bubba had finally resorted to posting No Trespassing signs with a note under that warning that violators would be shot. He’d also been instrumental in organizing a group of local farmers and ranchers who were against letting big oil take over their town.

  “Sure.” Travis turned around. “What’s up?”

  Bubba sauntered up, his dirty jeans and scuffed boots indicating he’d just gotten done working on his farm. A plug of chewing tobacco made one of his cheeks swell out. Before he spoke again, he spit on the sidewalk and then he looked Travis in the eye. “I’m a bit concerned over something I heard here recently, so I’ve got to ask. I’m wondering if you’re still against letting anyone drill on your family’s land or if you’ve changed your mind?”