“Guess not.” She felt him looking at her.
“What happened between you and your ex? I mean, did you just grow apart or . . . ?”
Shay shrugged. “We were a bad match from the start. Tried to make the best of it but—well, in the end, he went off to chase his dream of stardom. Never got far.”
“I’m sorry. That must’ve been rough on you and Olivia both.”
She tightened her line. “It was, but at least we had each other. God brought us through.”
They settled into a thoughtful silence, adjusting their lines and soaking in the peace and quiet.
“Man, I’ve missed this place.” Travis drew in a deep breath of the pine-scented air. “Doesn’t smell like this in Texas, let me tell you.” He scanned the distant Absaroka Range. “Missed those too.”
Shay followed his gaze to the mountains, majestic beasts jutting up from Paradise Valley, painted dusky purple by the evening light.
He may have missed Moose Creek, but not enough to return. It was a point of contention that he hadn’t, even if she had been married.
“Missed the people,” he said. “Jacob, Miss Lucy, even people I thought I’d never miss.”
“Like who?”
The corner of his mouth tipped. “Oh, you know . . .” He switched to a high-pitched twang. “Like, oh my, Ida Mae Perkins. Isn’t that right, Vern?”
She smiled. She’d forgotten his talent for impersonations. Once Mr. Orenbeck, their algebra teacher, had interrupted a disturbingly accurate imitation of himself. Travis had spent the afternoon in detention.
“Or our favorite banker,” Travis said in a familiar nasal tone. “John Oakley.”
Shay laughed. “That was dead-on.” Her line began drifting and she tightened it.
“Should’ve heard him when I paid up your mortgage.” He switched to the nasal tone. “Shay’s mortgage? Shay Brandenberger? You’re what? Married?” Travis poked up a pair of invisible spectacles. “Priceless.”
Shay laughed at his facial expression, so John-like. “Wish I’d been there. Just to see the look on his face.”
“Think he was hoping to rip the ranch out from under you. Little weasel.”
“Wouldn’t doubt it.”
And if she didn’t come up with some kind of plan, the man might still have his way. She was going to line up another job after Travis left. She couldn’t let the debt pile up like it had before. Next time God might not send a miracle her way.
She felt the weight of a fish on her line and gave the pole a sharp tug. “Got him.”
Seconds later she was removing the hook from another small-mouth bass. “I do believe it’s bigger than yours, McCoy.”
“Night’s young, Miss Smarty-pants. In fact, I’m so certain of my fishing prowess, what d’ya say loser cleans and cooks?”
“I say you’re on.”
Despite Travis’s bluster, an hour and a half later when they were bumping home in the truck, it was Shay’s string that held more fish, including the largest bass caught.
Shay leaned back against the worn leather seat. “Yep, looking forward to some nice fresh-cooked fish tomorrow night.”
Travis scowled. “You never were a gracious winner.”
Her lips curled. “And you always were a sore loser.”
He humphed. “Like when?”
“Like when you had a conniption over that stupid bottle game at the festival.” It had been the summer of their junior year.
“That ring was over the bottle.”
“Not the whole bottle.”
“Well, that’s not what Riley Raines said.” He imitated the deep, slow drawl. “Just get the ring ’round the bottle and win yer lady a prize.”
Shay chuckled, remembering the brawl that ensued. “Yeah, you got me a prize all right.” Shay had stepped between the two boys, trying to break it up, and had walked away with a shiner.
Travis winced. “I was a real knucklehead, wasn’t I.”
It was humorous in retrospect, though her parents sure hadn’t thought so at the time. Travis had fetched a bag of ice from the lemonade stand and held it to her eye in the back of his pickup while they listened to the band play on the town square.
“You had your moments,” she said.
And that was God’s honest truth. He’d had a way of making her feel like she was one in a million. And his skills in the kissing arena had never been lacking. A fact that hadn’t changed, she thought, recalling their wedding kiss.
“I missed you most of all, you know,” he said. “You were my best friend.”
She felt more than saw Travis looking her way. She wasn’t going to look. Wasn’t going to take another ride down Memory Lane and ruin the easy companionship they’d found.
“More’n that, of course,” he said. “But always my best friend. I could tell you anything.”
They’d shared so many secrets, things they’d never told anyone else.
Gravel popped under the tires as he pulled into the drive.
“I enjoyed tonight,” he said. “Just being with you, it was almost like old times.”
It had been pleasant, once she’d relaxed. He was fun to be with, easy to be with. She’d forgotten that.
“Go to church with us tomorrow?” he asked a minute later as he put the truck in park and shut off the engine.
She’d already made an appearance at the festival earlier in the week. And now that she was mobile, there was no excuse. It was just that she dreaded seeing Beau. And folks at church probably thought she and Beau had been closer than they actually were—Beau had a tendency to exaggerate their relationship. Did they think she’d done him wrong? Would they hold that against her?
“Have to face him sometime,” he said as if reading her thoughts. “He ever call back?”
If there was any rancor in his tone, she didn’t hear it. “No. But there’ll be no avoiding him at church.”
Or anyone else. Travis was right, though. She had to face him eventually. Besides, she’d missed church. Singing as a congregation, Pastor Blevins’s thoughtful sermons . . .
“I’ll go,” she said, then wondered suddenly about Travis’s life in Texas and the string of women he’d probably left behind. “You haven’t mentioned leaving a broken heart in Texas. There some girlfriend you devastated with news of our accidental vows?”
“Nope. No one in Texas, or anywhere else for that matter.” He started to say something, then seemed to change his mind. “Part of me pities Beau. I know what it’s like, losing you.”
She worked to steady her breath, reminded herself it had been Travis who left, his decision. But maybe he had grown up. Least she could do was lower her wall of righteous indignation enough for a little peace to flow across. It would be a long five months otherwise.
Travis exited the truck and brought her crutches around. On the porch, he opened the front door and she hobbled through. She checked the time as a yawn escaped. It was early, but her eyes felt heavy, her body worn from the crutches. Olivia wouldn’t be home for a couple hours.
“You’re tired,” he said. “Go on to bed.”
His words prompted another yawn. “Need to wait up for Olivia.”
“I’ll do it.” He emptied his pockets on the end table that had become his nightstand. “Have a passel of fish to clean anyway.” The corner of his lip hitched up.
She hesitated in the middle of the room.
“Go on. I’ll be up late.” He looked unbothered in the dim room, the lamplight casting a yellow glow over his features.
“Okay. Thanks.” She shuffled toward her room.
“ ’Night,” he called.
Once in her room, she closed the door and washed up. His toothbrush and standard black comb sat beside her own toiletries.
Tonight had given her hope. Maybe he had grown up, learned a thing or two over the years. Maybe it was time to put the past behind her. Maybe they could live in harmony for the next several months. If she could just ignore the chemistry and block out his handsom
e face, maybe they could manage a cautious friendship.
20
Shay was trying hard to focus on Pastor Blevins’s words, but it wasn’t easy. Every minute, someone was turning to look at her. She didn’t take her eyes off the pastor’s round face, but she could feel their stares.
Her cheeks heated and her insides churned. Suddenly she didn’t want to be in church anymore. But Travis had driven them, and he wasn’t going anywhere. He was scrawling notes as fast as he could write, oblivious to her anxiety.
She felt the eyes of Beau’s best friend burning into her temple. The thought of facing Beau after church in front of his friends gave her palpitations. She had to get out of there. She gathered her crutches, thankful Travis had chosen the back row.
Travis took her arm. “You okay?” he whispered.
She nodded, avoiding his eyes, and hobbled out. Her crutch knocked into the pew’s arm, and the loud clatter carried through the open sanctuary.
Her face burned. When she reached the vestibule, she made a quick decision to hole up in the ladies’ room. It was too hot outside, and Travis had the truck keys.
She clambered through the restroom’s swinging door and had no sooner lowered herself into the sole chair than the door opened. She breathed a sigh when she saw it was only Olivia.
“Travis said I should make sure you’re okay.” The door eased closed behind her.
“I’m fine.” Shay’s words wobbled. She cleared her throat. “Just . . . I just needed a break from . . . from people.”
Olivia’s brows furrowed. Of course she didn’t understand.
“It’s complicated. I just know what everyone’s thinking, what with Beau and I having dated so recently, and now I’m suddenly married to Travis . . . They must think I’m a real jerk. I just couldn’t take the looks a minute longer.”
“I didn’t see anyone looking.”
“Yeah?” Maybe she’d made too much of nothing. But then again, Olivia was only twelve and in her own world. “Maybe you’re right. But I’m going to stay parked right here till it’s over. Why don’t you go back to your seat and let Travis know everything’s hunky-dory.”
“Okay.”
Once Olivia left, Shay cleaned out her purse. By the time she was finished she heard the organ strains of “Just as I Am.” Several moments later a teenaged girl burst through the door. Shay gathered her crutches, then reached for the door. Hopefully she could make it to the car without any run-ins, and hopefully Travis wouldn’t dawdle.
She struggled through the heavy door and came face-to-face with Beau.
“Shay.”
“Hi, Beau.” She looked for an escape, but he had cornered her between the ladies’ room and the drinking fountain.
“Go to lunch with me?” He crunched the brim of his hat in his fingers. “Give me half an hour.”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t do that. I have to go.” Shay tried to hobble around him, but he blocked her path.
“Come on, Shay. I deserve half an hour, don’t I? After all we were to each other? I don’t understand how you could up and marry him.”
She winced at the hurt in his eyes. “I’m really sorry, Beau, but I did marry him, and that’s all that—”
“Makes no sense.” His brows lowered. “You were with me after the wedding. Explain that.”
He was right. There was no explanation. “I’m sorry.” She tried to pass.
Beau took her arm, and she wobbled on her crutches. “Answer me, Shay.”
“Let her go, Meyers.” Travis was suddenly there, towering over both of them. His tone brooked no argument, and his face was taut.
“I’m fine.” She pulled her arm from Beau. “We were just wrapping up.”
Beau pulled himself upright, glaring at Travis as Shay shuffled past.
She prayed he wouldn’t do something harebrained. Last thing they needed was a brawl in the church vestibule.
They were in the truck before Travis spoke again. He ran his hand over his jaw before turning the key. “He does that again, I’ll knock him into tomorrow.”
“We haven’t even left the church parking lot. Didn’t you hear Pastor’s message?”
“Didn’t Beau?”
Between them, Olivia chuckled. “He was loving his neighbor, all right.”
Shay smothered a laugh, then glanced at Travis.
He looked torn between anger and humor. “Yeah, well, he’d better find another neighbor to love. This one’s my wife.”
“Who can take care of herself,” she said, though something pleasant bloomed inside at his words. She wouldn’t think too hard about what it was or why it made her feel good.
Maybe Beau would leave her alone now. If he knew what was good for him. She didn’t doubt Travis would back his threat with action. He had that protective instinct—even if he was only protecting what he considered his property.
“At least this first time is out of the way,” she said. “Hopefully it’ll get easier.”
“I’d forgotten about your voice,” Travis said. “You sing like an angel.”
She laughed, but it came out a snort. He’d stood close enough to hear, that was for sure.
“Just say ‘thank you,’ Mom, like you tell me.”
“Thank you,” she said with a touch of sarcasm.
“Maybe we can do a duet in church sometime. I’ll play guitar and you can sing.”
So not going to happen. “Uh-huh.”
“I’m starving,” Olivia said. “What’s for dinner?”
“Was thinking about grilling those fish up now instead of waiting for supper. What d’ya think, Olivia?”
“Yum! Will it take long? I’m starving.”
“Not if you help.”
“Deal!”
Twenty minutes later Travis stood over the hot grill with Olivia, basting the fish with something he’d concocted in the kitchen. Shay watched through the patio door. He was letting Olivia baste now.
Shay set the table and poured three lemonades. When she was done, she checked on Travis and Olivia. The grill was closed, and she spotted the two squatting in the yard by Olivia’s upside-down bike. The chain had been falling off lately.
Shay’s foot was aching, so she headed to the living room where she sat and propped it on the ottoman. The sofa smelled like Travis now. The pillow at the other end still bore the indentation from his head. On the floor, he’d left his white socks, rolled into balls, and this week’s Moose Creek Chronicle, open to the crossword puzzle, which he’d helped himself to.
His phone buzzed on the end table beside her. She’d never make it to the door before it stopped. She checked the caller ID and saw an unfamiliar area code. Must be his parents. He wouldn’t want to miss the call—he’d said just yesterday he needed to reach his dad.
Shay pushed Talk, eager to greet the McCoys. They’d always treated her like their own daughter.
“Travis’s phone.”
Silence.
Maybe it was a bad connection. But no, she could hear a country melody, “Party for Two,” in the background, clear as a bell.
“Hello?” she said.
Still nothing but music. “Anyone there?”
“Who is this?” a female voice asked.
Shay frowned. “Who’s calling?”
“This is Ella. Who’s this?”
Ella? The call must be from Texas, she deducted, based on the woman’s drawl and unfamiliar area code. And judging by her churlish tone, she wasn’t happy another woman had answered.
“Shay Brandenberger . . .” She had the petty urge to add his wife, but that wasn’t her place. “Travis is busy, but I’ll tell him you called,” she said, after trying to explain why she’d answered his phone.
“Don’t bother. I’ll call back.”
A click sounded in Shay’s ear, and she turned off the phone, frowning. The woman was obviously riled. But why would she be—hadn’t Travis said last night that he’d left no one behind in Texas? She had a feeling Ella might beg to differ. And
was clearly unaware of their marriage.
It’s not real, Shay. Do not forget that.
But if Travis was going to go all Rambo on Beau, didn’t Shay have the right to expect loyalty? Or at the very least, honesty?
But candor had never been Travis’s strong suit, had it? Hadn’t he kept all his real feelings bottled up for three months while they planned their elopement? When all he had to do was call things off? She would’ve been hurt, especially at the idea of his leaving for Texas, but it couldn’t have been worse than finding out on their wedding day.
He hadn’t been honest then, and he wasn’t being honest now. The gnawing feeling in the pit of her stomach was a lesson learned. It was a reminder to keep her guard up. Even a friendship, like the camaraderie they’d shared the night before, was dangerous. Wasn’t that how their relationship had begun, once upon a time?
She couldn’t trust herself, and she sure couldn’t trust Travis, who’d been clear that he wanted more than a temporary arrangement. She couldn’t let herself trust him again. Because if she did, he’d have the power to hurt her, and there was no way was she going down that slippery slope again.
21
A message was blinking on the phone when Shay emerged from her bedroom, bathed and dressed. Olivia had ridden to Maddy’s house on her newly fixed bike, and Travis was out somewhere doing her job. She was feeling restless again, and it had only been two weeks. How was she going to make it another four or five?
Shay shuffled to the phone and pressed Play.
“This is Hank Peterson. Found one o’ your bulls in my pasture again, pestering my cattle. I know you’re having troubles, but I can’t keep hauling ’em back. He’s in my pen. Please come and get him.”
Shay flinched at his brisk tone. Hank was never friendly, but he sounded more brusque than usual. She’d have to tell Travis about the fence. In the meantime, she’d figure a way to fetch the bull. She wasn’t supposed to drive, but Hank was only next door. The hard part would be loading the bull.
It took thirty minutes to hitch the trailer and saddle and load Brandy. Her foot ached from the weight she’d accidentally applied when lifting the trailer onto the hitch.
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