Big Sky Romance Collection

by Denise Hunter

  “Guess so.”

  “He’s teaching me, but I’m not too good. I’m gonna practice and then by next fall, maybe I can help with roundup.”

  Next fall? When had Olivia started looking at his stay as long term? Maybe since you started looking all goo-goo-eyed at the man.

  “Olivia . . .”

  “Mom, I was thinking.” Olivia played with her pasta. “You know I loved Daddy . . .” She looked up at Shay with a question in her eyes.

  “I know, hon.” Garrett hadn’t been much of a father, but children were sometimes blind to that. Especially when they had nothing else to compare them to.

  “But he’s gone, and he’s never coming back,” Olivia said. “And I really like Travis, and he likes me too.”

  Shay forced a smile. “You’re easy to like.”

  “Is it okay if I call him Dad?” The words burst from Olivia like a bull through barbed wire. “He’s more of a dad than my real dad ever was. He’s teaching me things and spending time with—What’s wrong?”

  Shay felt her food congealing in her stomach. How had this happened?

  She thought of the bedtime readings, the ride-alongs, the games of Scrabble. That’s how it happened.

  “Oh, hon,” Shay said. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “But, Mom—”

  “No, Olivia.” Her words shot out like bullets, propelled by fear. “I’m sorry, it’s just—”

  “That’s not fair. Maddy has a dad, all my friends have dads, and Travis is here, and he’s married to you and everything.”

  “You know this was a temporary arrangement.”

  “But things are—you’ve been getting along good. I thought . . .”

  Shay closed her eyes. This was all her fault. “I’m sorry. I should’ve made sure you understood. There’s something else we need to talk about.”

  “Well, it doesn’t matter.” Olivia dropped her fork on her plate. “I already did it.”

  Shay frowned, a feeling of dread snaking up her spine. “Already did what?”

  “I already called him Dad.” Olivia lifted her stubborn chin.

  Shay’s food sank like a lead weight in her stomach. She set her fork down. “When?”

  “Tonight at his folks’ place. I want him to be my real dad!”

  Shay stood, her chair squawking across the floor. She carried her half-full plate to the garbage and dumped it. Her thoughts swirled like flurries in a blizzard.

  She had to talk to Travis. Had to tell him to go. This had gotten way out of hand. Olivia would be hurt when he left, but she couldn’t help that. Better now than later when she’d come to love and trust him as her dad.

  “Why are you being this way? I thought you liked him.”

  Shay put her plate in the sink. “We’ll talk about this later. Finish up.”

  She grabbed her coat off the hook and tugged on her boots. She had to take care of this now before things got worse.

  The cold air smacked her face as she left the house. The sun had vanished behind the mountains, and twilight marched across the sky. Travis leaned over the engine of her truck, the hood propped over his head on a crooked spindle.

  She took the porch steps slowly, then crossed the lawn, the blades of grass crunching like brittle sticks of ice under her feet.

  “I love you, sweetness.” His words from the night before flashed, unbidden, in her mind. Stop it, Shay.

  She had to forget it. It was a lie. He probably said the same thing to Ella. Would say it to her on Monday when he saw her again.

  Her thoughts flew like rabid bats around her head. She stopped a safe distance away and pulled her frame upright. She was strong. She could do this.

  “Going somewhere?” she asked.

  “Not in this bucket o’ bolts.” He turned, a teasing smile on his lips.

  The grin fell away slowly. A crease formed between his brows. “What’s wrong?” Then his brows lifted and his head tipped back. “Oh. Hey, if you’re not cool with the Dad thing, that’s fine, Shay. I didn’t expect her to—”

  “When were you gonna tell me you’re leaving?” She jabbed her hands into her coat pockets.

  He jerked at the abrupt change in topic, then slowly lifted his hands, palms up. “Tonight. I was gonna tell you tonight.”

  Sure he was. “Before or after you slept with me?”

  He winced. “I should’ve told you before—was afraid you’d be upset . . .”

  “You were right.”

  He took a step forward.

  She stepped back.

  He stopped. “I didn’t expect to make the finals, and I wouldn’t go at all except my friend Seth is my team roping partner. He’s never been. It’s his dream.”

  The rodeo? This was about the rodeo again? Her breath came out in a wry laugh. She couldn’t even compete with the rodeo, much less another woman. She felt the sting of ancient tears and blinked them back.

  “I’ll be back in a few weeks at most.”

  Like heck he would. “You need to leave, Travis. Tonight.”

  His mouth opened, then closed.

  She forced herself to meet his eyes. Be strong. You can do this, Shay. You have to do this. For Olivia. For yourself.

  “What?” He took a step, reached for her.

  She stiffened. “Don’t touch me.”

  His hand fell to his side. He pushed his hat back. “It’s just one competition, Shay. I know I should’ve told you, but when it’s over, I’m coming back.”

  She swallowed against the hard lump in her throat. “Don’t bother.”

  He looked away, at the barn. Then he looked at her again. “You don’t mean that.”

  She steeled herself against the hurt in his eyes. She repeated the text message in her head, right down to the Xs and Os. She toyed with the idea of tossing it in his face. But this was humiliating enough.

  “Tonight, Travis.”

  He exhaled, his breath fogging in front of him. He pulled his hat and rubbed his jaw. Set his hat back on his head. A shadow flickered on his cheek. “Our agreement is through Monday,” he said. “I have a right to stay till then.”

  “I don’t give a fig about the agreement.”

  He rubbed his jaw. “We had a deal.”

  “I’ll pay back everything I owe you.”

  “I don’t care about the stinking money, Shay!”

  Maybe she could get that in writing. He sure wasn’t worth his word. If she were smart, she would’ve learned that fourteen years ago.

  She walked past him, pulled the rod, and set the hood down. “I’m taking Olivia for hot chocolate. Pack up and be gone before we get back.” She met his gaze. “Don’t call, don’t write, and don’t come back.”

  When she passed, he took her arm. “What about—my gosh, Shay, didn’t it mean anything to you? What about everything we did—everything we said?”

  She pulled her arm from him and looked him square in the eye. “Yeah, Travis. What about it?”

  31

  Travis stared aimlessly down the dark Mojave Freeway. Ahead, a semi’s taillights led the way, and darkness pressed in from every side. His grip was loose on the steering wheel. It was late and had been a long day of traveling, but he wasn’t so much tired as bone-weary.

  Weary and empty. The emptiness started three days earlier, when Shay drove off with a tearful Olivia. He’d gone to the Barr M, hoping Shay would see reason once the dust settled. But her phone had gone to voice mail each time he’d called, and she hadn’t been at church. He’d come around Sunday evening, hoping for one last chance to talk, but she and Olivia were gone.

  They’d been the slowest three days of his life. But then Monday came calling, and the farther he got from Moose Creek, the more riled he became. Didn’t she know he planned to return? He’d left messages saying as much, but she either didn’t buy in or didn’t give a hoot.

  It was only three measly weeks. One lousy rodeo—and not even for him, but for his friend. But the longer he drove, the more time pass
ed with no word from Shay, he wondered if there were any point in returning.

  All day he’d had nothing but time to think, remember, and regret. It seemed cruel that he’d finally won Shay’s heart back only to lose her again. Why couldn’t she trust him? Why couldn’t she give him a chance? Didn’t she know he’d changed?

  God, I was patient, wasn’t I? What happened? Why have I lost her all over again?

  His cell phone pealed and vibrated in his pocket. Hope flooded through him, kicking his heart into high gear.

  He checked the lit screen and saw his parents’ cell number. He let out a deep breath and answered.

  “Howdy, son,” Wyatt McCoy said. “Hope we didn’t catch you at a bad time.”

  “Not at all, Dad. Just heading down to Vegas for the finals.”

  “Everything okay at the Barr M?”

  “Fine, just fine. Jacob keeps it running like a well-oiled machine. How’re things in Guatemala?”

  “Good, good. Fact is . . . that’s why your mom and I are calling.”

  “Hi, honey,” Mom said. “We’re sharing the phone. We wanted to tell you about something that happened yesterday.”

  Travis got the feeling something big was coming. “Okay, shoot.”

  “During the service, Pastor Gomez preached on knowing God’s will for your life. And during the invitation, well, your dad and I just looked at each other, and we both knew what that was for us.”

  “Let’s just tell him, Doreen,” Dad said.

  “Okay, well, the bottom line is, we feel God calling us to stay here, honey.”

  “Permanently,” Dad said.

  “I’ll be darned.” It was all Travis could think to say. His folks had ranched all his life. But they were nothing if not obedient to God.

  “We’ve both been feeling it,” his mom said. “But we didn’t mention it to each other until last night during the service. It’s been weighing heavily on me our whole time here.”

  “On me too,” Dad said. “We want to serve the people of Guatemala.”

  “We’ve come to love them very much,” Mom said.

  “That’s something else. I’m happy for you, that you both agree and want to go where God’s leading you. Are you still coming home for a while? What about the Barr M?”

  “We’re returning just long enough to pack our things,” Mom said.

  “We’re wondering if you’d be interested in running the Barr M now that you’re back in Moose Creek,” Dad said. “Maybe even owning it.”

  Travis squeezed the wheel, regret rising in him so fast it threatened to suck him under. If they’d asked a week ago, how different things would’ve been. But now . . .

  “That means a lot to me, Dad. Mom.” How could he commit to living the rest of his life next door to the woman he loved? He wasn’t into torture.

  “I hear a but coming,” Mom said.

  He hoped this wouldn’t ruin their plans. “Thing is, it didn’t work out between me and Shay. I don’t know if I’m going back after the finals.”

  “I see,” Dad said.

  Travis heard the disappointment in his voice.

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Mom said. “Are you okay, honey?”

  “I’ll be fine.” Eventually. He’d lost her before and survived it. If you could call the life he had before surviving.

  “You and Shay,” his mom said. “I thought for sure . . . Are you certain it’s over?”

  “It didn’t work out like I thought. I—I wish it had.”

  “Have you prayed about it, honey?”

  “Yeah, of course, I—” He had prayed before he returned to Moose Creek. Had felt peace about returning with hopes of reuniting with his soul mate.

  He frowned at the windshield. But when the wedding certificate had come, when the crazy arrangement idea had occurred, had he even stopped to get God’s take on it?

  He didn’t think so. He’d known Miss Lucy was praying for them, but what kind of Christian was he, letting the elderly woman pull his spiritual weight?

  “Maybe I didn’t,” he said. “Not like I should’ve.” Regret settled into a spot in his heart, just below the empty space Shay had left.

  “Maybe you can work it out with her yet. She’s your wife, whether either of you intended it or not.”

  “I don’t think so, Mom. Right now I’m just going to focus on getting through the finals. After that I may end up back in Texas.”

  “You sure about that, son? I know how much you love the ranch. And you’ve always wanted a spread of your own.”

  “Don’t press him, Wyatt. Honey, you take some time and think it over. At least a couple weeks, okay?”

  He promised he would, though his hopes weren’t high. They talked for a few more minutes, then wrapped up the call.

  For the remainder of the drive, he found himself dreaming of owning the Barr M. Of Shay and him running the whole spread and raising a family. Then he’d wake from his daydream and scold himself for letting his thoughts get away.

  By the time he reached the hotel, it was nearly midnight. He checked in and took the gilded elevator to his room. Once there, he tossed his suitcase on the hotel bed and went to look out the window. Twenty floors down, the streets teemed with cars and people. The glitter of Las Vegas stared back, mocking him with its promise of pleasure and thrills.

  There would be no pleasure or thrills for him in this city. He glanced at the lump in his duffel bag where Shay’s new wedding band nested in a bed of velvet. He felt like all kinds of fool now for having hoped. For having thought it could last forever.

  A knock sounded on the hotel door, interrupting his thoughts.

  There was only one person who’d visit him at this hour. Seth was probably bursting at the seams to get started. He forced a smile and opened the door.

  But it wasn’t Seth standing in the hall. Ella wore her trademark red cowboy hat and Crest smile. Her perfume was sweet and cloying.

  “Travis!” She drew him into a hug. “It’s so good to see you.”

  He’d ignored the flirtatious text she’d sent three days ago, and now he was paying for that. But he’d already told her he was married, told her he loved his wife. He hated to be rude, but she was leaving him no choice.

  Ella stepped back, her smile unwavering. “You look the same.” She grabbed his left hand and looked at it. “No wedding band . . . Were you just puttin’ me on, Travis McCoy?”

  He pulled his hand away and stuffed it in his pocket. He’d removed the band somewhere between Ogden and Salt Lake City.

  “ ’Fraid not,” he said.

  The sparkle in her eyes dimmed, more at his action than his words, he suspected.

  She propped her smile back up. “Well, we have a long three weeks ahead of us and plenty of time to . . . catch up.” She winked. “You look tired as a Thanksgiving turkey. If you get bored, I’m in 1620, and Seth’s across the hall from me.”

  She’d never been subtle. “See you tomorrow.” He pushed the door shut.

  “ ’Night, Travis.”

  He locked the door and fell into bed, weariness creeping over every muscle in his body.

  32

  Shay finished her chores and headed into the house to warm up. December had blown frigid air into the valley. The snow from November had melted off on Thanksgiving, leaving Paradise Valley the bleak and barren shade of old straw.

  Shay knew all about bleak and barren. When Travis left, it felt like he’d taken part of her with him, whether she wanted to admit it or not. She tried not to think about him. Tried not to think about the fact that he was with Ella now, that he’d run back to his first love—the wretched rodeo. Why was she always a distant second? Music for Garrett and the rodeo for Travis.

  It seemed the more she tried not to think of him, the more her thoughts went there. Olivia was barely speaking to her. Apparently Shay was to blame for Travis’s departure, for ruining the marriage.

  Ha! Some marriage. It started as an accident and ended with a betrayal. But tell
ing Olivia that would do no good. Despite Shay’s anger with Travis, she didn’t want to spoil Olivia’s perception of him. She’d learn soon enough that people weren’t always as they seemed.

  Shay entered the house, shrugged off her coat, and pulled off her boots. The boots. An unwanted souvenir from life with Travis. If she had another pair, she’d give these away, no matter how comfy they were, just to be rid of the constant reminder.

  But she didn’t have another pair, and shedding him from her life wouldn’t be as easy as discarding a pair of boots. That much she knew. He was everywhere she turned.

  Her eyes caught the back of the Moose Creek Chronicle. She could hardly bring herself to pick it up anymore. When she did, she saw news of the national finals or even the crossword puzzle waiting to be filled in. She tore her eyes from the paper and rubbed her hands together, warming them.

  The phone vibrated. She pulled it from her pocket, hating the jittery anticipation that filled her. She read the screen, then told herself that the sinking feeling was relief.

  “Hey, Abigail.”

  “You’re meeting us for lunch at the Tin Roof at noon.”

  Abigail had been trying to get her out of the house for days, but facing all the questions about Travis’s whereabouts at church had been hard enough. When others asked where he was, she’d told them he was at the finals. But the finals ended today. Now what would she say?

  “Shay?”

  “Who’s us?”

  “Aunt Lucy and I, and we’re not taking no for an answer. You’ve been cooped up too long.”

  Shay checked her watch. “Noon’s twenty minutes from now.”

  “Better hurry.”

  “Fine, fine, whatever.” She was tired of putting up a fight. Between tiptoeing around Olivia and putting off Abigail, she was fresh out of energy.

  She hung up, changed into clean jeans, a clean undershirt, and a warm sweater, and headed toward the Tin Roof.

  The diner was packed with retired folks and moms, trying to shake the winter doldrums. Abigail waved from the far corner booth. Shay wove between tables, an uncomfortable feeling spreading through her bones. Her neighbors’ looks glanced off her as she met their eyes. She knew pity when she saw it. But why?