She humphed, barely a sound.
“Arrogant, I know. To think I could just drop you and get you back again at my own whim.”
“Blame right.”
“Well, I didn’t expect you to fall right into some other guy’s arms.”
Who did he think he was?
“You leave a girl at the altar and she’s free to fall into whoever’s arms she wants.” Never mind that she’d been completely humiliated. Of course she’d snatch up the first attention thrown her way, try to prove to everyone she was worthy of a man’s love.
“Yeah, well, he’s gone, and you’re stuck with me now.”
“Stuck is exactly the right word.”
And yes, Garrett was gone, as Travis so bluntly pointed out. He didn’t have to remind her of that. She and Olivia had hardly had time to grieve Garrett’s desertion before they were hit with his death. Olivia slept in Shay’s bed for almost eighteen months, and Shay wondered if her daughter feared she would leave her too. She held on to her extra tight through those months and begged God for strength to get them through.
They watched the fireworks in silence for five minutes, ten, awkwardness hanging around them like a heavy summer fog.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket. Probably Olivia. She shimmied it out and looked at the screen.
Beau. Could this night get any worse? She’d seen him today from a distance and had managed to steer Travis a different direction. She shut off the ringer and pocketed the phone.
“Not gonna answer?”
“Nope.”
The fireworks picked up overhead, colorful blooms with thunderous booms and pops. The sounds ricocheted off the mountains. She’d never been so glad to see the finale.
“Was it Meyers?”
She sighed. What business was it of his? It was her phone, her life.
“He has no business calling you.”
For pity’s sake. “Just a phone call, Travis.”
“You’re a married woman.”
“Barely.”
“Can’t be barely married—you either are or you’re not—and I have a certificate that says we are.”
The fireworks fizzled to nothing but darkness and silence.
“It’s over.” Relieved, Shay sat up and inched toward the tailgate, but not before Travis’s quiet response reached her ears.
“Not by a long shot.”
18
Shay hobbled to the kitchen for water. After the fireworks Travis had gone to check on a sick mare. Shay was glad for the reprieve and thankful when Olivia returned, though her daughter went straight to her room.
Shay filled a sipper cup and put the lid on tight so she didn’t spill it as she hobbled to her room. She was crossing the kitchen threshold when she heard something.
She paused.
A sniffling sound came from the direction of Olivia’s room. Was she catching a summer cold? Developing allergies? Another sniffle, this one with the unmistakable shuddering that resulted from a good cry.
Shay set down her water, shuffled to her daughter’s door, and tapped lightly. “Olivia?”
The sniffling stopped, and a beat of silence filled the house.
“What?”
“Can I come in?”
Shay heard only the ticking of the wall clock and distant booms from a private Fourth of July celebration. “I know you’re crying.” She opened the door.
Olivia sat on the bed, cradling her pillow. Her nose was red, her eyes glassy.
Shay eased down on the edge of the bed and propped her crutches against the nightstand. “What’s wrong, hon?”
Olivia swiped her hand across her face. “Nothing.”
“Come on now. You’re not one to cry over nothing.” She wondered if the girls had gotten into an argument and said hurtful things. It would be a first.
Olivia tossed her hair, her eyes shooting fire. “It’s that stupid Katy O’Neil and her sidekicks!” Angry tears coursed down her face.
“What happened?” Shay rubbed Olivia’s arm.
“Me and Maddy were just playing with some sparklers Abigail gave us, you know, over by the playground area before the show.” She took a shuddery breath. “We were just minding our own business, and Katy started making fun of me.”
“What did she say?”
New tears filled Olivia’s eyes. “She said I dress like a hobo! All her friends started calling me Olivia Hoboberger!” Olivia cradled her face and sobbed into her hands.
Shay’s stomach bottomed out. It was all her fault. She hadn’t provided Olivia with all the things the other girls had.
“She asked if I shop at the Goodwill.” Olivia raised her face, and the hurt in her eyes about killed Shay. “It’s not fair! She thinks she’s so hot just because her dad’s rich.”
It wasn’t fair. The injustice of it made Shay’s stomach tighten into a hard knot. “What did you do?”
“Maddy told her to be quiet, but Katy wouldn’t. She came closer, calling me that name, and I shoved her right on her rear end!”
Shay pursed her lips, holding back a smile. Part of her was glad Olivia had stood up for herself. “Do you think that was wise?”
“It was self-defense—even Maddy said so.”
“What happened next?”
Olivia shrugged, wiping her tears. “The fireworks started, and those stupid girls left.”
Shay hated seeing her daughter hurt. It made her feel helpless, just like when Garrett had left.
But she wasn’t helpless now. She had money in the bank, at least for a while. She could buy Olivia new clothes—could buy her a whole new wardrobe if she wanted. She hated using Travis’s money. But it was part of the agreement, and no one had twisted his arm. Besides, one day she’d pay him back. She was set on that.
“I’m sorry, munchkin. Those girls had no right saying that or being mean. You’re twice the person Katy O’Neil is, and you have a great friend in Maddy.”
“I know.” She sniffled.
“No more fretting, okay?” Shay wiped Olivia’s face dry. “Try to get some sleep now.”
“All right.” Olivia slid down on the bed.
Shay tucked her in, pecked her on the cheek, and gathered her crutches before leaving the room. When she entered the living room, Travis was picking out a tune on his guitar.
He stopped when she entered. “What’s wrong?”
Shay shuffled to the end table beside him and collected her water. “Some girls tonight—they teased Olivia about her clothes.”
Dashes formed between his eyes. “What about ’em?”
“Well, they’re not exactly . . .” Shay searched for the name of a fancy brand and came up empty. “They’re not what the popular girls are wearing. I’m taking her shopping this weekend.”
Travis picked a couple more notes. “They seem fine to me.”
Shay pursed her lips. Of course he’d say that. He’d had all the nice clothes he’d wanted when he was a child. Besides, he was a man. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Olivia’s a smart and loving girl. She’s got everything that matters. ’Sides, kids are always gonna find something to pick on.”
Shay shifted her weight. “She is smart and loving, but know what? If I can do this one little thing to make life easier, I’m gonna do it.”
“I understand your wanting to fix things, but do you think that’s wise?”
He was advising her on parenting matters? Did he really think he knew best? Or maybe it was the money.
“Fine. I’ll sell a cow and then take her shopping.”
“That’s not what I meant, Shay. You don’t want her thinking her worth comes from clothes. Or that those girls’ opinions really matter.”
“Of course they matter. Were you ever a teenager? I’m taking her shopping.”
Their eyes held for a long minute, then finally he nodded. “By all means use the money in your account. It’s at your disposal, as promised.”
Naturally he wouldn’t see her side. But how could he know
how hard it was to have so little? Shay turned toward the bedroom, already planning their trip to Bozeman on Saturday.
19
She’s looking real good.” Travis squatted down on the mound of fresh straw where Olivia was bottle-feeding a calf. Maddy sat at the other end, stroking the cow’s hide.
“I think so too,” Olivia said. She and her mom had spent the day in Bozeman shopping. Now Olivia wore a new pair of jeans with fancy stitching on the pockets and a robin’s-egg blue scoop-neck blouse with a white shirt peeking out at the neckline.
The calf rolled its eyes up toward Olivia, and Maddy smiled. “She thinks you’re her mama. Don’t you, Cocoa?”
“I think you’re right, Maddy. Doing a fine job, Olivia.” Travis rumpled her hair, and she gave him a shy smile.
Travis had grown fond of her in the two and a half weeks he’d been at Shay’s. She ate up his attention, and she was a good kid, respectful and helpful. Regardless of what she wore.
“Yoo-hoo!” a female voice called from the yard. “Time to go, girls!”
“Abigail’s taking us to the Chuckwagon.” Olivia eyed the half-full bottle and then looked at Travis.
“Go on. I’ll finish up.”
“Thanks, Travis!”
“Have fun, girls.” He lowered himself in the hay, listening to their giddy laughter. He wished he could take Shay to the Chuckwagon tonight. Dancing was out, but she was gonna go stir crazy if she didn’t get out again soon.
He offered the bottle, and the calf sucked vigorously. “Greedy little thing, aren’t you?”
A shadow fell in the doorway. He looked up to see Abigail standing there, her arms crossed.
“Afternoon, Travis.”
“Howdy. Glad you stopped in to see Shay. She needed the company.”
“She’s bored all right.” Abigail leaned against the door frame.
“Not easy for her, staying put. I think she gets lonesome.”
She nodded. He got the feeling she had something to say, though he couldn’t imagine what.
“Wade all right?” he asked.
“Just fine. We’re taking the girls to the Chuckwagon.”
“So Olivia said.”
That meant a whole evening alone with Shay. He’d look forward to it if she weren’t so prickly. She’d probably lock herself in her room with a book all night just to avoid him.
“Look, I’ll just get right to the point,” Abigail said. “I’m worried about Shay.”
He frowned. He’d wondered if Dr. Garvin had really promoted her to crutches after her last appointment. “Her foot hurting?”
“It’s not her foot I’m worried about. What are your intentions here, Travis?”
“Beg pardon?”
“First thing I hear she broke her foot, then I find out you’ve had some kind of accidental marriage, and now you’re here 24-7, pretending to be her doting husband. No offense, but from what I hear, you weren’t too interested last time.”
“My intentions are honorable, Abigail.”
“Wade seems to think you’re a decent guy. Maybe it’s my journalism background, but I require a little more evidence—especially when things are so lopsided.”
The calf emptied the bottle, and Travis stood, glad to be on even ground with Abigail. “Not following.”
“Shay’s getting a pretty sweet deal here. Someone doing all her work while her foot heals, watching over Olivia, and apparently helping her out financially too . . . ?”
If she was fishing for information, she was wasting her time. If Shay’d wanted her friend to know the details, she would’ve told her.
“Obviously you’re under no obligation to tell me a thing, but I can’t help but wonder what’s in it for you.”
“What’s in it for me.”
Abigail raised a brow. She wasn’t feisty in the way Shay was, just direct. Despite his discomfort, he was glad Shay had a friend like this in her corner.
Hadn’t Shay told Abigail why he was doing this? Or did Abigail not buy in? “Shay knows the answer to that.”
“You love her.”
He felt heat rise on his neck and he rubbed his jaw. He’d never used that word, exactly. Maybe it was true—okay, it was true—but a guy liked to keep a few cards to himself. A cowboy had his pride.
“That so hard to believe?”
“You don’t exactly have the best track record.”
He was a little tired of his past hanging over his head, following him around like an ugly storm cloud. “Give me a break. I was eighteen, a kid.”
“You hurt her.”
“Think I don’t know that? I lost the best thing I ever had, lost her to another man for fourteen years. I come back here thinking I might finally have a chance to win her back, and I end up accidentally married to her. So if you think I’m taking advantage of that, if it seems like I’m taking my best shot at getting her back, you’d be right. If that makes me the bad guy, so be it.”
He tipped his hat back and pocketed his hands while Abigail seemed to assess his words.
“Mom, let’s go!” Maddy called from the yard.
Travis remembered what Shay had told him. How Wade had hired Abigail as Maddy’s nanny last summer, how they’d fallen in love against all odds. Now they were married, and Maddy was calling her Mom. He only wanted what Abigail had found for herself. He wondered if the woman saw the parallel.
She straightened, tossed her blond hair over her shoulder. The look in her eyes assured him she was every bit as astute as he imagined.
“I just want what’s best for her.”
“Then that makes two of us.”
She regarded him an extra second before she gave a nod and left the barn. She was a tough cookie, a skeptic despite her own happy ending with Wade. But Abigail wasn’t the one he had to convince.
Shay felt like crying. The brief visit with her friend had been the highlight of her week. She was bored out of her skull sitting around this house day after day while Travis fed her stock, rode her circle, mended her fences.
She pulled herself upright and hobbled on her crutches to the window where a plume of dust billowed behind Abigail’s car. And there went her daughter, off for a fun night. Shay liked the way Olivia’s new clothes looked on her, the way they made her carry herself differently.
She didn’t fault Olivia for getting out of Dodge. She’d go herself if she didn’t think Travis would be right behind her, hand on the small of her back. All her elderly neighbors would cluck over what a sweet couple they made while everyone else laid down bets on how long it would be before she sent Travis running for the hills.
One thing was sure: she had a long night ahead of her. Olivia would be out late, and the house was going to seem small and quiet with just Travis and her filling it up. What had she been thinking, letting Olivia go out?
She heard the back door open and shut.
“Got an idea,” Travis called from the kitchen.
“No.” If he thought he was taking her out tonight, he had another think coming.
“Shoot, woman, hear me out. Fishing. Bass are biting up by Boulder Pass.”
She hadn’t fished in a month of Sundays. “Says who?”
“Jacob Whitehorse.” Travis appeared in the doorway between the kitchen and living room. “Said he took home enough for a week of suppers. What d’ya say?”
It was tempting, but as her eyes lingered on his sturdy form, she realized the last thing she needed was an outing with Travis. She faced the window. “Why don’t you go on? It’s too hard to get around.”
“Not leaving you here alone. Come on, I’ll help. You need out of this house. Can’t tell me you’re not getting restless.”
If they had to be alone, she’d just as soon be outdoors than trapped in the house with nothing to do but stare at each other.
“Fine. Abigail brought sandwiches for supper.”
“We’ll take ’em with us. Wait here and I’ll load the gear.”
Twenty minutes later they were pullin
g up to the Yellowstone River in Travis’s pickup. Travis had stopped at Jacob’s house to bum fishing worms and check on his parents’ ranch.
Now he parked under a mammoth oak tree, a stone’s throw from the shore, and got out of the cab. “Be right back.”
Shay opened her door to let the breeze in while he removed their supplies. She hated this helplessness. She wanted to get her own tackle and food, but the frustrating fact was, she couldn’t even get herself to the shore without help.
Travis fetched her crutches, and she worked her way carefully through the tall grass to the bank where he’d spread a large sleeping bag. The sack of food Abigail had brought was dead center, and they wasted no time digging in. Travis had remembered the ketchup, and Shay added it to her turkey sandwich.
“Olivia looks real pretty in her new clothes,” he said. “She showed me everything you got her.”
She couldn’t tell if he was conceding that she was right or hinting that she’d spent too much. “Got some great bargains, even at the fancy stores.”
“Wasn’t worried about that.”
Maybe he was only making conversation.
Fifteen minutes later, after they cast their lines into the deep pool of water, she broke the silence. “Heard from your parents?”
“They called last week. Mom’s helping with children and Dad’s building a new church. They’re right where they’re supposed to be.”
“Mission trips can really change people.” Her line had drifted too far, so she reeled in.
“They sound pretty excited about what God’s doing down there. Tried to call Dad a couple times this week, but I guess reception’s spotty. Have a question about his books, so hope he calls soon.”
Travis’s bait was drifting fast. He jerked the pole and reeled in a smallmouth.
“Nice.” Her own line was as still as an August morning.
He removed the hook and strung up the fish before rebaiting his hook and recasting. “I’m enjoying working your spread, Shay. You’ve got a nice piece of property.”
“My grandparents thought so.”
“All those springs and river frontage—prime piece of land.”
A quiet moment passed.
When her line drifted too far, she reeled in.
“Mind if I ask you something?” he asked after she recasted, hitting a prime spot.
Big Sky Romance Collection Page 34
