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

by Rita Hestand

  "This just isn't like you."

  "I was dirt. Am dirt."

  "Glad you figured that one out for yourself." Deke smiled sardonically.

  "I didn't figure she'd ever forgive me. I couldn't forgive myself. I've been kicking myself ever since. I haven't even dated since that night."

  "Yeah, I know. I've been meaning to stick my nose where it doesn't belong for a while now, but I thought you'd eventually bring your problem to me." Deke nodded. "I also thought it was because you were pining for the Platt gal."

  Deke looked outside, stood up, peered out the door a long time, then placed a hand against the wall, and leaned. "When did you find out—about the kid?"

  "Tonight."

  "Tonight?" Deke watched him. "Damn, a double whammy."

  "Just a few hours ago. I was just sitting there in Judy's kitchen, having cake and coffee and talking up a storm to both of them when this kid came running in, couldn't have been more than three. And the spitting image of me. Like looking in a mirror. She couldn't deny it."

  "Did she try?"

  "No, not really. She admitted the whole, ugly story. But I knew it was the last thing she wanted to do."

  "And what is the whole ugly story, Clint?" Deke's voice held no sympathy.

  "I got her pregnant that night, in the barn. The night I used her like a common w—"

  "Now, wait a minute, partner." Deke seemed totally unwilling to believe such a thing of his brother. He moved toward Clint, and shook his head, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him just enough to get his attention. "I don't believe you could sink that low. I know you and Abby were always close. Real close. One didn't see you without her, back then. You were bound to have some feelings for her."

  Clint flinched inwardly, but tried to laugh, a hurtful laugh. "Well, believe it, bro. I'm as guilty as sin. I realized what I had lost the next day: my best friend. I'd lost Abby. I was a coward, to boot. It took me nearly two weeks to get up the guts to go talk to her dad. He wouldn't tell me where she went. Told me it was best left alone. He knew what happened, I could tell by his expression."

  "But, my God, man, she was your best friend. For years. How could you do that? I mean, if you didn't feel anything for her at all, it'd be different?"

  "That's the problem. It's been eating at me all this time. I haven't had a woman since that night. I couldn't."

  "And you are sure the kid is yours?"

  "I'm sure as my name's Travers. He's mine. And cute as a button, too." Clint poured another glass of milk. "I'm guilty as sin, but that's my son, Deke. And I want him!"

  "Want him?" Deke's eyes glazed with unspoken emotions. "What do you mean, you want him? He's yours, isn't he?"

  Clint nodded, not able to look at his brother again. "Yeah, but he don't know it. And Abby won't tell him."

  Deke shook his head. "Then what are you going to do about it? That boy's your responsibility."

  "Not much I can do." Clint glanced at Deke.

  "The hell there isn't." Deke paced the kitchen. "You are going to marry that gal and make her an honest woman. Like any Travers' would do. We been taught to do the right thing, no matter what—"

  "Yeah, only she don't want me." Clint choked the words out.

  "What?" Deke's voice boomed. "I don't believe that!"

  Emma came sauntering into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes and looking about. "What's going on in here?"

  Clint blushed and wanted to shrink somehow out of sight, rather than tell his only sister-in-law the sordid details.

  "Nothing, honey, you need to get back to bed," Deke declared, going to her and putting his arm around her. "You need your rest; your time's near."

  "Not until I find out what's wrong in here. You two are raising the roof." Emma yawned. "So, what's wrong?"

  Clint knew there would be no rest until he told the whole story, so he recounted the entire event in front of Emma. He couldn't look at her. He cared for her too much to see the disdain in her eyes.

  Emma rubbed her belly in a circular motion like she always did, as though she were actually touching her baby. Clint smiled. Emma nodded from time to time, and then, when he was finished, she sat back and sighed long and hard.

  "Wow! That's a mighty powerful story, Clint." His sister-in-law said in a low voice. "I've heard a lot about this Abby. I'm rather anxious to meet her."

  "Well, you'll probably get the pleasure tomorrow." Emma glanced at her husband for an answer to that.

  "Abby's father is the one that passed away. We'll be going to his funeral tomorrow."

  "Oh, the poor dear. I didn't realize…"

  "Yeah. Want to rethink your brother-in-law, sis?"

  "Not at all," Emma said, and reached a hand to him.

  "Look, Clint, who started it, you or her?"

  Clint frowned at Emma as though she had two heads. "What difference does that make?"

  "A lot." Emma squeezed his hand. "Who?"

  "I don't know. One minute I was crying on her shoulder, the next minute I was kissing her. I don't know how it happened. Abby was always so understanding. Always there for me. A hundred times before it had happened, and nothing happened like that."

  "Then this time was different. This time one of you made a first move; who?" Emma demanded.

  "I don't know." Clint couldn't see the point to this conversation. What did it matter? It had happened, and he took the blame for it.

  "Okay, Clint, let me put this so you will understand. I don't know Abby. But I read women pretty well. She was in love with you. And when you were there, so close, so needing her, did she reach out to you and want you?"

  Clint felt himself turn red. How embarrassing could this get? He'd never discussed something like this with anyone except Abby.

  "I don't know."

  "Could she have?"

  "I guess, why? One minute we were talking, the next minute we were kissing. It's not your mind working at a time like that."

  Emma smiled with empathy, "Because she was aware of what she was doing, and you weren't. She actually had the advantage, Clint. She was in control, not you."

  "I don't follow—"

  "Abby knew she loved you. But I know from experience, and knowing you, you wouldn't have just taken advantage of Abby. You're not that kind of man. You had to have had some kind of feelings for her, Clint.

  Strong feelings, that maybe you didn't want to admit." "That doesn't matter now." He blurted before thinking, and the other two's heads went up with surprise. Deke eyed him keenly, waiting for some plausible explanation for the outburst. "I—I loved her—all along." Clint sighed, feeling a relief in admitting it, like a burden being lifted from his shoulders. "Only, she never knew. I promised Ross I'd never touch her. It was the hardest promise I ever made."

  "Ross? Her father? Why would you promise a thing like that?" Emma asked, not understanding this a bit.

  Clint twirled his hat in his hands, and glanced up at his brother. "Abby was meant for better."

  Emma jumped to her feet and stared down into his face, then went to the refrigerator and poured herself a glass of milk. Before speaking, she drank most of it, then with a milk ring around her mouth, came right up to Clint's face and turned him to look at her. "How long have you been in love with that woman?"

  "In love?" Deke nearly shouted.

  "Yes, Clint's been in love with Abby for what—years?" Emma guessed.

  "It doesn't matter. I promised her father." Clint began, glancing at Emma, and nearly laughing at the white ring of milk around her mouth.

  Emma considered his words, then nodded, "I understand exactly what a Travers promise is, Clint. I'm married into this family. How well I know. But you've got to forgive yourself a little. In the first place, it takes two, Clint. In any situation, it takes two. Don't blame yourself too much. If you really love Abby, and have loved her all this time, it was bound to happen. Love is a powerful emotion."

  Clint eyed Emma, then Deke. "Quite a woman you got there, brother."

  "I k
now. She just about reads my every thought these days." Deke took Emma against him. "But I got a question now." He paused to wipe the milk ring from his wife's lip. "What makes you think you are not worthy of Abby?"

  "It doesn't matter," Clint insisted, trying to get up and get out of there. But Deke wouldn't let this one go, and he was duty bound to explain.

  "I'm just a rodeo cowboy. You've said so, yourself, a lot of times—" Clint answered, looking squarely at the very brother who had called him that many times.

  "Rodeo cowboy? Oh, now look, Clint, that was a different subject. But the Rodeo is a job a life, Clint, not a classification. If anyone has learned that, it's me, thanks to Emma." Deke reminded him.

  Clint eyed his brother seriously a moment. "Maybe, but it seemed the general consensus by everyone around that I was a rodeo cowboy and not worth the love of Ross Martin's daughter. I began to have my own doubts of self-worth, too. I listened to you all those times you tried to talk me out of riding. It didn't go on deaf ears. I looked around me one day, and realized I was just a rodeo cowboy. That's not much to offer a woman."

  Deke was silent for only a second, "Now look, bro. I might have voiced my doubts about your chosen profession, but never about you. You are a Travers, and a damn fine ranch hand. Don't let me ever hear you talk like you don't know it. This land belongs to all of us, not just me. And when you marry, I plan on seeing that a good portion is in your name."

  When he married? Not likely! Clint shook his head, "Look, it doesn't matter much who did what back then. It's too late. She wants nothing to do with me, and wants me to stay out of Clay's life."

  "His name is Clay?" Emma smiled.

  "Yeah."

  "I like that."

  "Yeah, me too." Clint tried to smile.

  Deke paced again, then turned to look at them both, "I told him he had to do the right thing and marry her."

  "Naturally," Emma agreed, shaking her head with mock seriousness. "You would say that. But it's not going to be that easy. Abby's had time with the baby; she’s grown independent. She'll need convincing."

  "Convincing of what?" Deke shook his head at his wife's logic.

  "That Clint loves her, and always has."

  Clint got to his feet, walked around the kitchen, then looked back at Emma. "It's too late for that. She'll never believe it, now. She'll think I'm only saying it for Clay's sake."

  "Of course she will, "Emma agreed.

  Clint shook his head in disbelief. He'd never told anyone but his family that he loved them. But there were two women in his life that he'd die for: Abby, and his dear sweet sister-in-law.

  "So, I have a son, and will lose a son. And Abby." "No, you won't. You are too much a fighter to give up that easily, Clint Travers," Emma insisted with a gentle hand on his.

  Clint looked at her as though he couldn't grasp what she was getting at. "Most of the time, yeah. But how can I fight this?"

  "It's very simple," Emma said with a chuckle, while glancing from her handsome husband to the perplexed Clint.

  "It is? Well, do you want to let us in on the secret?" Clint frowned.

  Deke's head twisted in a questioning fashion. "You've got to convince her that you loved her all along." Emma announced, as though the thought had never occurred to him.

  Clint paced again. "She thinks I was getting over that Platt gal."

  "That, my dear brother-in-law, was merely lust. And knowing you, you must have realized that very night that's what it was. Abby made you face that. And in doing so, opened up your heart to her. You were in love with Abby, or you would never have touched her so. I'm only surprised since she knew you so well, she hadn't guessed."

  "So—how can I convince Abby?" Then, as though the whole thing was silly, he dismissed it all with a wave of his hand, and poured another glass of milk. "It won't do any good to cook something up now."

  "What do you mean?" Emma asked.

  "She's got a boyfriend. A serious boyfriend. Apparently a pretty nice fella." Clint remarked with as little sarcasm as he could muster.

  Emma stood, pulled Clint to his feet and grabbed him by the shoulders and turned him to look her in the eye.

  "Do you want your son, Clint?"

  "Of course I do, Emma. I'd do anything, but—"

  "Then you've got to fight for him. You've got to fight for them both, Clint. You've got to convince Abby you loved her then as you do now."

  "That's easier said than done, Emma. I can't just waltz over there and hog tie Abby into marrying me, now can I?"

  Emma smiled. "No, you've got to court her."

  "I've gotta what?" Clint's face screwed up.

  "Court her, flirt, make her fall in love with you again." Emma finally spelled it out for him. "Oh, it'll be so much fun, and I'll help you all the way."

  "I don't think Abby would go for it this time, Emma. She's no fool," Clint said, pouring himself another glass of milk, and downing it like a swig of whiskey.

  Emma smiled as though she knew something Clint didn't, and rubbed her pregnant belly again. "She'll go for it, if she really loves you."

  ***

  "Did you tell him?" Judy opened her bedroom door when she heard the front door slam.

  "Yes, mama, I told him." Abby put her arms around herself, feeling bereft in a way that she couldn't explain.

  "How'd he take it?"

  Abby's tears clouded her vision. "Not well, I'm afraid."

  "Did you really expect him to? You've had your son for three years now. He hasn't had him at all. He's a Travers, no matter what his last name is. And they're a proud bunch."

  Abby nodded sadly.

  "Do you think it's fair to Clay to not know his own father?" Judy's face clouded as she came to stand just in front of her daughter.

  "No."

  "Then tell him. Get it out in the open, and you'll feel better about it, honey. You should take care of all of this before you get married."

  Abby searched her mother's face. "I'm afraid Clint would do the honorable thing. He’d want to marry me. And it would all be for nothing, because he doesn't love me, mama."

  Judy took her in her arms. "Can you be so sure?"

  "Mama, we've been over and over this. Don't you remember what dad said?"

  Judy nodded, a slight frown marring her otherwise beautiful features. "Yes, very well. But your father didn't know everything, Abby. It's time you understood that." Abby frowned at her.

  "How can you say that?"

  Judy smiled with shining wisdom. "Because it's the truth, honey. He was just as fallible as the next man."

  "Dad had good judgment about people. You said so yourself."

  "Some, yes. But he also loved his daughter more than anything in the world. And he wanted to keep you here with us. Life doesn't work that way, honey. You had to grow up, and fall in love."

  Abby glanced at her mother strangely, not understanding how her mother could say such a thing.

  "The Travers have always been good to us. There was no reason for us to turn on them. And we didn't, until Bud came along. Bud never liked them. I'm not sure Bud liked anyone. Clint has more feelings for you than you'll ever know."

  "I gave up hoping that, a long time ago." Abby let one tear fall, but brushed the others aside. She would be strong. She wouldn't cave in just because Clint wanted his son and couldn't have him. For once, she had to face this attraction and be rid of it.

  "He looks just like Clint," Judy remarked, pouring herself another cup of coffee while Abby paced. "Everyone around here is going to know it, soon."

  "I know. That's why I'm moving to Dallas in the fall, and marrying John," Abby said quietly.

  Judy hung her head, but this time didn't comment. "Why don't you sell this place, and come with me, mama?"

  Judy shook her head sadly. "No, this is my home. This is where I belong. Me and your father worked this land together too long to just up and leave it."

  "But you could live with me, with us," Abby insisted.

  "No dear, I co
uldn't. You have your life, and then there's John's mother. You don't need two mothers on your hands. Besides I have a life, too, and it's right here. I've got good friends all around me here."

  Abby looked at her mother and wanted to let the tears fall, but remembering how much her father hated crying, she stiffened herself against it. She had made her decision, so why didn't she feel right about it?

  Chapter Four

  At the funeral, Clint wasted no time finding Abby and Clay. Glued to her mother's side, Abby looked pale. She gripped little Clay's hand so hard Clint couldn't imagine why the boy wasn't screaming. But instead, he had a faraway look in his eyes. Judy was holding up better than anyone expected.

  But Abby was absolutely breathtaking. She looked way too good. Clint shook himself. Dammit, I shouldn't be thinking about how good she looks. He felt that settling in his groin, and he growled at himself. He didn't need to be thinking along those lines. No more of that. That's what usually got him into trouble, when looking and wanting became the same thing.

  He would concentrate on something other than her luscious lips, or the way her body curved in all the right places. He wouldn't think about how her dress clung to her breast, offering a tempting tease. And he wouldn't think about her slim hips, and that she had more curves than ever, now.

  Abby used to have the rosiest cheeks. Today they were pale, and they looked damp. She looked so different standing there in her simple black dress, her hair pulled severely back at her nape. This wasn't the Abby he knew, at all. This woman wore sophistication easily.

  Clay held on to his mother's hand, and looked miserable in his little dark gray suit. He kept yanking at the tie, and Clint smiled.

  On closer inspection, he noticed the dark circles under Abby's eyes, and he felt the urge to comfort her, as she had done for him so many times. She had comforted him, listening to his tirade about some other girl so many times he couldn’t count them. Why had she tolerated him?

  Even though he knew Abby wouldn't welcome him, he wondered if they'd ever have a relationship again, if he could ever mend this rift.

  He pondered on what Emma had said, too. And the more he pondered, the more certain he became that she was right. A new-found confidence grabbed him. At least now he had a purpose.