Big Sky Romance Collection

by Denise Hunter

  “Hi, Miss Lucy, it’s Travis. Hope I didn’t wake you.”

  “Oh no, dear. The girls and I were just getting ready for bed. What can I do for you?”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “This is going to sound strange, but do you know whatever happened to Shay’s and my wedding license?”

  “Oh, that. Well, I do, actually. I found it in one of my boxes and—remember that pedestal at the Founders Day reenactment? I set the license there, hoping to jog Shay’s memory. Give her a little nudge, you know. But I don’t think she even noticed it.”

  Man, oh, man. Travis rubbed his face.

  “Why do you ask, dear?”

  “What did you do with it after the ceremony?”

  “What did I—Oh dear, I don’t know. I forgot all about it. Did you want to save it? I hope it didn’t blow away.”

  “It didn’t blow away.”

  “Oh good.”

  “Miss Lucy, it arrived in the mail today.”

  “Well, isn’t that lucky!”

  He rubbed his face. “Shay and I seem to be officially married.”

  “Oh my! Congratulations, dear!”

  “This is not good, Miss Lucy.” It had to be a mistake. Shay would kill him if it wasn’t. “I mean, the license must’ve expired, right? Anyway, we applied for it in Wyoming, and the wedding was in—Wyoming. But we don’t reside in Wyoming, so that should make it null and void. The clerk’s office just missed it.”

  “I don’t know anything about all that—let me ask the girls.” She muffled the phone while she talked to her dolls. Heaven help him.

  The Internet. He marched to the computer and typed in a search, then drummed his fingers while the links came up. He clicked on a government site and began skimming.

  Must be eighteen years of age or older. Check.

  The license must be used in the state of Wyoming. Check.

  Any licensed or ordained minister may perform ceremony. Check.

  Do not have to be a resident of Wyoming. Check.

  “The girls don’t know either, Travis. Oh my, this is all my fault.”

  “I’m sure it’s a mistake. The license is fourteen years old. It can’t be any—”

  License is valid indefinitely.

  Gulp.

  “What is it?”

  Travis cleared his throat. “A Wyoming license has no expiration date.”

  “Oh my.”

  He kept reading, looking for something. There had to be something. “This is not good.”

  “Not finding anything?”

  “Nothing. I’ll call the clerk’s office in the morning and explain.”

  “Of course. I’m sure they’ll understand it was all just a silly mistake.” Her confident tone was reassuring. “That is what you want, isn’t it?”

  “Of course that’s what I want.”

  He wanted this to go away. To make the call, explain the mistake, and have their records incinerated. Poof! Marriage over. And everything would be back to normal. He and Shay would be officially single. She would hate his guts. She would keep seeing Beau Meyers.

  That was what he wanted.

  Right?

  “Travis?”

  “I’m here. I’ll call the clerk’s office in the morning. Thanks for your help, Miss Lucy.”

  “I’m sure it’ll all work out just as God intends, dear.”

  “I’m sure you’re right.”

  Travis hung up, then went upstairs and went through all the motions of getting ready for bed. But instead of sleeping, he stared at the wood beams running across the ceiling. His mind traveled back two months.

  He and Seth had just won the team roping competition, and they were celebrating at Clive’s with their buddies from the circuit. This year had been his biggest windfall yet, and his others hadn’t exactly been shoddy.

  Travis took a chunk from the southwestern nachos the server had delivered minutes earlier along with a flirtatious smile. Ella Reynolds was with him, a pretty cowgirl and decent barrel racer in her own right.

  She leaned over and kissed his cheek, her blond hair tumbling over her shoulders. The sweet scent of her perfume filled his nostrils, killing his appetite. She had green eyes almost the same color as Shay’s. But something about Ella’s seemed flat, like a mirror with nothing inside, only a reflection. Shay’s eyes were like a mountain stream, deep and mysterious.

  But why was he thinking about Shay? She was some other man’s wife and had been for years, since about two seconds after he’d left her in Cody.

  “You were something tonight, Trav,” Ella said over the din of chatter. “You and Seth make a great team.”

  “Here it is!” one of his friends called, pointing to the big screen in the corner where the replay of today’s rodeo was being broadcast. The air was so smoky, it cast a fog over his view.

  Travis watched the screen, watched himself and Seth work together to take down the steer, Travis heading and Seth heeling. Cheers went up when the event ended with their quickest time ever, and his friends raised their mugs to them.

  He had everything he wanted. Fourteen years of hard work, and he was practically set for life if he was careful. He had money, a touch of fame, and a pretty filly on his arm.

  And yet something was missing. He felt it often, lying in bed after a date, when his apartment was quiet, his body still. But now the emptiness filled him with an ache that spread wide enough to engulf him, almost taking his breath away. Strange that he felt it now, when the din of celebration and the excitement of reaching the record win should’ve left him high and heady.

  What is it, God? You’ve blessed me like crazy. I have everything I ever wanted. Why do I feel so . . . alone?

  He wasn’t alone. He had God. He had buckets of friends and no shortage of women.

  But as soon as the thought trotted through his head, he knew what was wrong. What he tried to deny, tried to shove back deep inside where he didn’t have to think about it. Because thinking about it was useless.

  Seth appeared in the seat beside him where Ella had been moments before. “What’s with the long face?”

  Travis shrugged. Took a drink.

  “It’s a celebration, and we’re the men of the hour. Perk up—we’ll make it to the finals this year for sure.”

  Travis had been to the finals half a dozen times; being a top fifteen earner gave him that privilege. But it would be a first for his best buddy. “Might be right. But December’s a long ways off.”

  “We’re way ahead of the others. Shoot, we could sit out awhile and still break the top fifteen.”

  Seth was right. Still, it wasn’t the thrill it used to be.

  “Ella getting on your nerves?”

  Travis searched the room and found her at the jukebox, searching the selections. “Ella’s cool.”

  The smoky air was heavy, and the room was too loud. He felt a headache coming on.

  “You’ve got that look again, Trav. Tell me this isn’t about Shay Monroe.”

  It was Brandenberger now, but he didn’t feel like correcting his friend. His lips tightened.

  “Dude.”

  Seth should understand. He’d been there when Travis and Shay were together. But he’d never understood how Travis could miss someone he hadn’t seen in years. Travis wasn’t sure he understood it himself. It was like a piece of him was missing, and all the pieces he’d tried to put in its place didn’t fit. Not even close.

  “You don’t understand.”

  “She belongs to another man.”

  That one hurt. Nothing he hadn’t reminded himself of a thousand times, but having it out there, so blunt, was a bitter wakeup call. What kind of jerk was he, longing for someone else’s wife? Not like he hadn’t blown his chance.

  He stood abruptly, his chair darting out behind him. Ella was there, a drink in each hand. “Where ya going?”

  “I have to go. I have . . . something I gotta do.”

  A song kicked on, loud and familiar. The tune they’d danced to the
week before.

  Her smile drooped at the corners. “Oh.”

  “Need a ride?” he asked belatedly. Some date he was.

  “Callie can take me home. You’re kinda the guest of honor, Travis.”

  He didn’t care at the moment. He had to escape this place before the emptiness ate him alive.

  “Call you tomorrow, okay?” He offered what he hoped was an apologetic smile and headed toward the door, barely aware of the conversations around him, of the peanut shells crunching under his boots, the pungent smell of fried onions.

  “Hey, McCoy!” a voice called, but he was at the door by then and leaving, escaping into the hot Texas air, making his way toward his shiny new truck.

  He had called Ella the next day, good as his word, but the emptiness had taken up residence and wasn’t budging, not even with the extra hours he was putting in at his boss’s ranch. He should quit, start his own operation, now that he had the money. But did he really want to lay down roots in Texas? Besides, there was more money to be made on the circuit, and he was in his prime.

  Two weeks later he was heating a can of beans on his stove top when his cell rang.

  “Hi, honey,” his mom said, her voice sounding older than he remembered.

  “Hey, Mom.”

  “I didn’t interrupt anything, did I?”

  “Just my fancy dinner for one.”

  “Pork and beans?”

  He laughed at his own predictability. “Everything okay? Dad feeling all right?”

  “Right as rain. Getting along just fine, and the ranch is doing great. How ’bout you?”

  His mom heard things other people didn’t. He forced some energy into his tone. “Great. Won first in a big rodeo a couple weeks ago, me and Seth.”

  “It was in our paper. I called, but kept getting voice mail.”

  So he hadn’t felt like talking lately. “Sorry ’bout that.” He gave the beans another stir and removed the pot from the stove.

  “Dad and I called to ask you something. Well, actually to tell you something, then ask a question.”

  “What’s up?”

  “We’re going on a mission trip—to Guatemala.”

  “That’s great, Mom. You’ve always wanted to do something like that.”

  “We figured we’d better do it before we get old and decrepit. We’re tired of the ranch holding us hostage, and when God tells you to go, well, you go.”

  “Good for you.” He meant that. His parents never left their place except for quick trips to see him. A mission trip was right up their alley.

  “We’d like for you to come look after things while we’re away.”

  “What?”

  “We’d feel good about leaving it in Jacob’s care—”

  “Mom—”

  “—if we weren’t going to be gone so long. But he can’t do the books, and your dad—”

  “Mom, you know how I feel about that.”

  Just the thought of seeing Shay again . . . Shay with her husband and their daughter.

  “It’s been so long.”

  And he missed Shay more than ever. He wanted to help his parents. He owed them everything. He tried to imagine going home. Seeing Shay with her husband, his arm draped possessively over her shoulder.

  His heart seized. “I can’t.”

  It was hard enough here, hundreds of miles away. What would it be like to see her again, knowing he could never have her? Knowing he’d thrown away the one thing that mattered most?

  “I can’t.”

  “She’s not married anymore, Travis.”

  He hadn’t heard right. What did she mean?

  “He up and left her months ago. They divorced.”

  Divorced? How did he not know this? The creep left Shay and his own daughter? Travis felt for her, for the hurt and embarrassment it must’ve caused her. The selfish jerk . . .

  “Next thing I heard, he died doing some fool rock climbing thing in Utah.”

  He died? Shay’s husband was dead? Ex-husband, he reminded himself. His heart started beating again. Felt like the first time it had beat normally in months. Years. He should feel sorry, sorry that Shay’s marriage was over, but all he could find inside were relief and hope.

  Hope. That was what set his heart beating hard and steady.

  “Travis.”

  “All right, I’ll come.”

  “I didn’t even say when or how long.”

  “When and how long?”

  His mom chuckled. “We leave at the end of May, and we’ll be gone six months.”

  “Done.”

  “What about your apartment, your job, the rodeo . . . ?”

  Seth was going to kill him. But they were so far ahead, they’d still have a shot at the finals. “I’ll figure it out. It’s time for me to come home.”

  He couldn’t believe it. Maybe he’d have a second chance. Was it possible she didn’t hate him anymore for what he’d done? Was it possible she still missed him too, even after all these years?

  “I always did think you made a great couple,” Mom said. “Your dad and I both.”

  “I blew it.”

  “You were awful young. If it seemed we didn’t support you, it was only because we were afraid you were too young. We feel partly responsible for what happened.”

  “Got no one to blame but myself.” But he was ready and willing to set things right.

  He’d used his remaining time in Texas tying up loose ends and preparing for his return to Moose Creek. He’d prayed until his knees were sore, seeking God’s will.

  Now Travis punched the pillow and turned onto his side. He couldn’t have foreseen the crazy set of circumstances that had transpired. But the longer he lay there thinking, the more he realized that an incredible opportunity had fallen into his lap.

  It was almost as if God had reached down and given him a helping hand.

  That wasn’t so hard to believe, was it? That God saw his heartbreak, heard his prayers? What could he do but take the opportunity and hope for the best?

  12

  Something was wrong.

  Shay glanced down at the lump under the quilt. Her foot throbbed like the dickens, but that wasn’t it. She glanced around the room. Then it hit her.

  The light was all wrong. Golden yellow sunshine bounced off the beige walls, reflected from her bureau mirror.

  Her eyes snapped to the clock: 10:15.

  Olivia . . . the animals . . .

  She threw off the quilt and lowered her feet to the floor, an action she instantly regretted.

  “Olivia!”

  The house was quiet. Too quiet. Why had Olivia let her sleep so late? She’d promised to milk the cows, but that had been done hours ago.

  Shay hobbled across the room on her crutches and dressed awkwardly in gray sweatpants, grimacing against the pain in her foot. She hadn’t slept so late in years. She vaguely recalled waking in the middle of the night and taking more pain meds. She must’ve turned off her alarm and gone right back to sleep.

  “Olivia!” Where had the girl gotten to?

  Dressed now, Shay grabbed her crutches and left the room. “Olivia?”

  The TV and lights were off. She’d better not have gone off on one of the horses. Or ridden her bike to Maddy’s. Or gone swimming in the creek. She was only twelve. Too young to be running around the countryside alone.

  Shay hurried her steps as all manner of trouble crept into her thoughts. She maneuvered to the front door and nearly tripped over the threshold. After catching her balance, she tottered to the porch’s edge.

  “Oliv—!”

  From her spot in the vegetable garden, her daughter’s head snapped up. A streak of dirt smudged her cheek, and a cluster of weeds sprouted from her gloved hand. “Hey, Mom.”

  “What are you—Why didn’t you—” She couldn’t think with her foot throbbing.

  Olivia sprang up and dusted off her hands. “You shouldn’t be on that foot.”

  “Why are you weeding?”


  Olivia hated yard work. She always put it off.

  “Mr. McCoy said if I did we could go—”

  “Mr. McCoy?”

  Movement near the barn caught Shay’s eye. As if his name had conjured him, Travis appeared in the doorway.

  Shay clamped her teeth together. She’d told him—Why was he—Cussed man.

  “Hey,” he called, approaching. Strutting, really, with those long thick legs of his. “What’re you doing up?”

  “Go home, Travis.”

  “Mom, he—”

  “Stay out of it, Olivia.” Shay instantly regretted her tone. “Please . . . go inside and fetch my pills.”

  Her daughter looked to Travis as if for permission, which only raised Shay’s hackles further. Olivia shrugged and headed inside.

  “I told you not to come,” she said when Olivia was out of earshot. What she’d really said was that she’d manage. But the only thing she’d managed to do so far was sleep.

  “And Dr. Garvin told you to stay off that foot.” He was close now, almost to the porch.

  She hated the way she was suddenly conscious of her snarled hair and sleepy eyes.

  Focus, Shay. She had to get him out of here. She didn’t like what he did to her insides, making them feel all curdled, like month-old milk.

  “I don’t have the luxury of lounging on the couch all day, McCoy. The cows—”

  “Are already milked.”

  “The horses—”

  “Are fed.”

  She glared. “Well, the stalls need—”

  “Clean.” He crossed his arms and cocked his head. Anything else? his posture said.

  All that and he’d gotten Olivia to weed too? She wanted to smack the smug look from his face. Instead, she nodded sharply. “Thank you. I can take it from here.”

  “I promised Olivia I’d take her to the creek.”

  She didn’t know which galled her more. That he’d done her chores or that he was making promises to her daughter.

  “Come on.” He ambled up the porch steps. “Let’s get you settled.”

  She stifled the urge to back away.

  “Here, Mom.” Olivia appeared with a glass of water and her pill.