Family Matters (The Travers Brothers Series): The Travers Brothers Series

by Rita Hestand

  Home, Emma sighed to herself as she stared at the retreating horse and rider. She was so hungry for the word home she could almost taste it. Yet hard lessons had taught her that home was where you made it. And she was determined to make one.

  Chapter Three

  Sprawled in the middle of a vast prairie, the ranch conjured many images of the old west. Aside from the main house, there were two barns, a shed, and a bunkhouse. The place was bigger and much more spread out than the ranch she had been raised on. She drove around a circular gravel drive that lead to the walkway of the house, a one story white frame house that spread over well-manicured lawns. It's very atmosphere spelled home. White rocking chairs adorned the long veranda, and between two old rockers there was a checker table all set up, as if waiting for someone to arrive.

  A Sheltie came up to the truck and barked loudly, wagging its tail ready to greet her and eager for a pat.

  "Down Denver," Deke called as he dismounted, loosened the stirrups and handed the reins of his fine stallion to a ranch hand. Coming around the truck he gave the dog an affection pat.

  Like all good cowboys, he took care of his animals first.

  "Brush her down good, will ya Pete." He gave the animal a quick affectionate pat on the rump as he was led away.

  "Sure thing boss."

  Two cowboys stood negligently against the porch railing watching her. Emma smiled at them shyly. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the bunkhouse cowboys gather at the edge of the porch, some scratching their chins, others digging their boots into the gravel. They had to be the hired men, they were covered with dust, and smelled of saddle leather and cows, she noted as they moved closer.

  Then an older man came through the front door of the house and stood on the edge of the steps. His smile was wide and welcoming as he raised a hand to wave at Deke. It was also very familiar, since Deke Travers wore an identical smile.

  "Howdy," the older man called out to her as Emma got out of the truck and came around to the other side. He coughed harshly, then smiled again as he gathered his strength. Emma warmed to his friendliness. This man had a way about him that Emma related to. He wasn't as tall as the other men, and a little bent, but his face glowed with life.

  "Howdy," Emma said just before she whirled about to get Sammie Jo out of her car seat. She felt a pack of eyes on her now, as she turned her back to them. Naturally they'd be curious. They were all probably surprised as Deke had been about the baby. She had trouble again with the buckle on the seat and Deke reached around her to help as though he'd done it a thousand times. One clip of the hand and Sammie Jo was free. There wasn't enough room for the three of them.

  The intimacy made Emma back away. She bit a nail nervously to keep from brushing hands with Deke Travers. It was an unnecessary action, and she should have been grateful, but Deke Travers was affecting her like no man she could recall.

  God, she was acting like a schoolgirl. She didn't want to be shy, she wanted to appear sophisticated and in charge of herself. She wanted to portray independence.

  Deke shot her a questioning glance, but said nothing. She recognized the amused smile on his lips. He knew exactly how his nearness was affecting her.

  Sammie Jo wailed loudly, shocking Emma back to the present and two more cowboys came outside and up to the truck. Brothers, Emma deduced quickly. Denver followed, wagging his tail and licking at her leg every now and then as if to welcome her too.

  "Dad, boys, this is our new cook, Emma Smith." Deke said very matter-of-factly as he helped Emma with the baby. The way he moved about with her seemed so natural, it spooked Emma. Charlie certainly hadn't been this easy with the baby. In fact, she'd never been that at ease with the baby.

  Emma picked Sammie Jo up and carried her on her hip, handing her shoulder bag to Deke. Deke didn't flinch. Not one cowboy laughed or smirked.

  "I'm very pleased to meet you all." She said as she juggled the baby for a moment.

  There was a temporary silence, and then everyone started moving at once towards them. Sammie Jo let out a loud screech as her fingers went straight to her mouth, and big huge tears pelted down her chubby little cheeks. Again a silence and then clamoring near them again.

  "Hey now, come here little squirt. What's wrong with you?" Cal Travers started cooing before Emma got to the porch, his hands outstretched for the baby as though he had expected her all along.

  It didn't immediately dawn on Emma to reject his offer to take Sammie Jo. He was only being kind, and obviously saying and doing all the right things, because before Emma could voice her feelings on the matter, Sammie Jo had shut up.

  "This is Sammie Jo," Deke said as his two younger brothers crowded around the baby as though she were some alien being. One tried to tickle her, one cooed at her, and Sammie Jo just cried louder.

  "Look at her little toes. She's like a little cherub." One of the younger cowboys smiled.

  The men began gathering around the porch all smiling and making amusing little remarks about the baby. Sammie Jo stopped crying for a minute, eyed them, and then burst into tears again. Cal patted her on the back, and hugged her against him.

  The wranglers laughed.

  "Ya'll quit and stop staring. Got no manners, Sammie Jo. Well now, it's obvious you got a tooth problem, and I know just the cure. I've had a few of those, myself," Cal was saying as he took her in the house and slammed the screen door behind him ignoring the ogling crowd. Emma's mouth fell open in surprise.

  She glanced at Deke for an explanation, but he was shaking his head as though he didn't know what had gotten into his dad, either.

  "I'm Rusty, the youngest and most handsome as you probably already noticed." One of the brothers stepped right up to her, and took his hat off. His smile was wide and generous, his hair was cherry brown red, and his eyes almost as blue as his brother's.

  "Yeah, and modest too." Deke said good-naturedly just behind her.

  Emma smiled. How could she resist such open charm, and he was right, he was handsome.

  "The name's Clint, ma'am." The other brother took off his hat, gallantly and practically paved the road for her to enter the house. The brooding silent type, Emma suspicioned.

  "My brothers," Deke assured her as he opened the door for her. "You'll meet all the boys later. But I'd say by the look on their faces they are all glad to see you."

  "Haven't had a cook in a while?" Emma knew these cowboys saw food written all over her.

  "A week or two."

  "Been eating whose cooking?"

  "Mine, my brothers, everyone took a hand."

  Emma glanced at the men crowding around the porch with welcomes written on their faces. She smiled. "I hope I can remember all your names."

  The men nodded. "Don't worry, you just call, we'll come runnin'."

  Emma nodded.

  But Deke's slight touch kept her very aware of his presence. She felt as though every movement, he made was protective. She'd never been quite so aware of a man before, of the way his body moved, the way he seemed to control everything. It felt like someone had put all her senses on alert.

  Emma wasn't prepared for what she saw inside, either. The house was big and roomy, and comfortably lived in. But what astounded her most was that it was clean. Clothes were picked up, floors shined, furniture dusted, dishes put away. She'd been prepared for the worst. They hadn't had a cook or housekeeper in a week, and the house still looked clean. This said a lot for their character.

  Nothing like her own home, she winced with memory. Of course at home the boys had completely depended on her to pick up. Yes, she had been the chief cook and bottle washer for longer than she cared to remember.

  "Your home–" Emma began.

  "Needs a better hand," Deke replied as he took her by the elbow.

  It was a simple act, so why did Emma feel as though he had wrapped her in his arms. She felt herself flush. She realized with a rush she was reacting to the boss too easily. He was much too good looking, and his protectiveness could ma
ke a girl swoon. She'd have to watch herself.

  "I was going to say–it is beautiful." Emma finished. She wondered if she sounded dignified. She had always wanted to be a dignified woman. Yet it seemed like when you tried the hardest, it just didn't come out natural.

  Deke glanced at her and turned his head to the side as though he didn't quite believe her.

  "I mean, it's lovely. It's so homey."

  "Lived in is more like it. I guess Mattie did a right fair job of it." Someone said just behind her.

  "Mattie?" Emma repeated.

  "Our old housekeeper. She'd been with us for over ten years. Hell she ran this place with an iron thumb." Rusty furnished the information with a chuckle. "Oh, excuse the language, ma'am."

  Emma glanced at him and smiled. "Been?" She liked this handsome young man, he reminded her of her youngest brother, Sam just a little. Only Sam wasn't quite as handsome nor a ladies man. No, Sam was just an honest, hard-working cowboy.

  "Yeah, she up and married the best wrangler we had. And not a one of us knew what was goin' on under our noses." Rusty explained coming to stand just beside her.

  Rusty was cute, not quite as mature as the others, but cute. He had a lean, tall body, with lots of hair and a pleasing personality. His blue eyes sparkled with humor and Emma instantly liked him. In fact, it was hard to find anything wrong with the Travers men.

  Clint set her suitcase down in the small hallway that led to the rest of the house. He wasn't as tall as the others, very lean, and his black hair wouldn't behave, but he had probing dark blue eyes. A lady killer, Emma deduced. Just from the way he walked, she decided he had to be a rodeo man.

  As Deke headed her for the kitchen, Emma got a quick glimpse of a big brown, well-worn leather couch, a couple of oversized recliners, and a huge loomed rug in front of the stone fireplace. There were trophies on the mantle, pictures, and an old eight day clock.

  "Someone an athlete in the family?" she asked.

  "Clint, he's a rodeo bull rider."

  Emma nodded, there it was. She'd guessed as much.

  The kitchen was ultra-modern with all the conveniences a woman could ask for. It surprised Emma since the place was out in the middle of nowhere with all the conveniences of city life. The refrigerator was a huge commercial size, the stove had two built-in ovens, and the dishwasher was oversized. Everything was big and beautiful. There were long counters to work from and lots of cabinet space. She wondered if they had built this kitchen themselves. No one had that kind of space unless they made it.

  Cal Travers had already gotten a bowl of ice-cream for Sammie Jo and was feeding her as Emma approached the huge table just the other side of the kitchen.

  "Yes sir, nothing like a bowl of ice-cream for those sore chompers, huh, Sammie Jo? Papa Cal knows, don't he?" Cal was saying as he looked up at Emma with interest. "She's a right friendly little tyke, isn't she?"

  "Yes, she is. But I've never seen her go to a stranger so easily."

  Sammie Jo looked as though she couldn't be happier. Emma watched their interchange with fascination. After all, Sammie Jo didn't usually take to strangers. At her age she was usually leery of anyone or anything new, unless curiosity got the best of her. Emma imagined her teeth hurt so bad she just didn't care. Either that or the senior Mr. Travers made an immediate impression on her.

  The old man looked frail, but the sparkle of life was in those nearly transparent blue eyes. He was a man to fall in love with. He certainly bore no resemblance to her father. Cal Travers emitted a warmth Emma had seldom been exposed to. She liked him. He made her feel at home.

  "You must have a way with children, Mr. Travers."

  "Call me Cal. The Mr. makes me feel old. Never thought much about it, but the Mrs. used to look just as surprised as you do. Kids, calves, puppies, all the same. All they need is love, and understanding. My wife taught me that, a long time ago. I just never told her," Cal said whimsically.

  "She must be a wonderful lady," Emma said.

  "Was wonderful, yes, the best." Cal's voice drifted off, as though he was taking on his own memories.

  Emma felt his sorrow almost as if it were her own; it seemed so profound, as though it might have happened yesterday. These people astounded her. She felt as though she had found an identical family to her own so very far from home. Except her family had never been this much like a real family. No, they were nothing alike. She just got a good dose of lonesome in her soul.

  "Well Emma, welcome to your new home and family," Deke said turning her loose and pulling out a chair for her. He sat down on the other side of the table and eyed her for a moment before speaking again.

  "I want you to know we don't expect much from you. Just a couple of decent meals a day and a little laundry would be nice. We aren't the best at that," Deke was saying. "Dad here can't tell the reds from the whites."

  "Now don't go telling her about the red thermal. God, that was embarrassing," Cal clipped.

  Clint smiled. "Embarrassing for all of us, even though it was Dad that goofed up."

  "Don't pay them any attention. I just hate doing laundry."

  Emma chuckled. "Most men do. And that sounds reasonable. What time does everyone get up around here?"

  "We work dawn to dusk."

  "So fivish be okay?"

  "Great."

  Emma smiled and nodded, her eyes going around the room.

  Yes, it looked as though things might work out here. The family wasn't that different from her own, she reckoned. She could handle the house easily enough. They weren't slobs.

  Sammie Jo had just finished the ice-cream when she fell asleep in Cal's arms. Her little face was almost in a smile now, no sign of tears. Emma rushed to take her, but the old man was having none of that.

  "Oh, I'll take her."

  "She needs to go to bed. Poor little thing is tuckered, and in this heat there's no wonder. Look at those red cheeks. That ice-cream was just the trick; she wouldn't have been able to eat a regular supper anyhow. I hope you don't mind. I just felt so sorry for her is all."

  "No, no I don't mind. I'm glad you thought of it. I have a playpen for her to sleep in." Emma motioned toward the truck.

  No sooner had she said it, than Rusty was bringing it inside, "Where should I put it?" He asked.

  "In her room. Mattie's old room," Deke added as he shook his head. "Come on down the hall, Emma, we'll show you your room and you can get her settled down." Deke was insisting, again taking her elbow and guiding her.

  She wished he wouldn't do that. It made her feel funny and very aware of the man. She didn't want to be aware of the boss. Strange how that mere touch set off such sparks. She was probably just tired and over-reacting to his kindness. Emma wasn't the kind to flirt. She'd been around men all her life, but not intimately, and this feeling was shocking her into a new awareness. Maybe she ought to concentrate on Charlie.

  Her brothers had teased her about not wanting to date. So much so, she finally began taking Charlie's flirtation seriously. Charlie had been their neighbor for years. Her father had told her repeatedly she'd never find a man of her own in jeans and T-shirts. She should be wearing dresses, he had said with a firm shake to his head. But he'd never spare a dime for such a luxury. And she had Charlie, with or without a dress. But she didn't want to think about that now. She wasn't here for a man.

  The room they offered her had a beautiful canopy bed in the middle. Another thing she hadn't expected. It was decorated with delicate white lace and yellow flowers. An antique dresser matched the bed, and a trunk full of blankets propped at the foot. An old fashioned tapestry lamp adorned the dresser.

  Nothing about this ranch house looked dreary or old, or dirty, Emma thought. It would be a real pleasure taking care of a place like this. Someday she and Sammie Jo would have a place like this–a real home. She peeked out the window and saw a few ranch hands gathering about. There was a half a dozen or more so Emma figured this had to be a good size spread.

  "Shouldn't I be star
ting supper?" she asked when no one seemed in too big a hurry to leave.

  "Not tonight. Tonight is on us. Sort of a welcome. Rusty's got the fire going out back, we'll have some big steaks and baked potatoes in no time. Don't worry, after tonight, that chore will be yours. So enjoy it while you can. Just remember most of the men are meat and potato kind of men. If you can fix biscuits all the better." Deke winked. "Now, this will be your room Emma. We hope you like it here and will consider it your home. Make yourself at home. The bath's down the hall, and I've taken the liberty of putting a sign on the door when it's occupied, so we'll all know you're in there. I'm afraid we've only got one bath, these old houses were never equipped with more than one, I'm afraid. But I'm sure we can make allowances. Better find Jake and let him know about all this, too, I guess."

  "Jake?"

  "Our other brother," Clint added with a smile. "He'll be in directly. He's the serious one. The strong silent type. Most of the women fall for him right away."

  "Most of 'em." Rusty winked at her.

  "Too bad he don't have a roving eye," Clint quipped.

  "Oh. I never asked but will I be cooking for the boys in the bunkhouse too?"

  "Yes ma'am. But if you get in a strap, Little Jim will help you out. He's the trail cook, most of the time. Clint's a right fair hand at it too, when he's around. So you will have plenty of help if you need it," Cal Travers added. "And they all eat in the kitchen. They all use the back door. And they all drink a lot of coffee. We don't allow liquor on the job, so you don't have to worry about that from our men."

  "Just like home."

  "Home? Where you from, Emma?" Rusty asked innocently as he went about setting the playpen up and Cal laid the baby down. Sammie Jo sighed and rolled to one side, sound asleep. Deke had pulled out a small blanket from her bag and covered her with it. Clint put her suitcase in the closet. Emma stood around looking silly.

  "I'm from around Greenville. East Texas. I grew up on a spread not half this size. I have three brothers. My mother died when I was three. So I guess I'll feel right at home, here."