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

by Rita Hestand

  "Yeah." Rusty glanced about for a second and smiled at them, "And I didn't realize they were so well known, either." Rusty winked.

  "Oh, don't pay any attention to us. Word gets around in little towns. Anyone who is anyone is practically in the newspapers. Besides our Samantha here, had a crush on Jake for years, but never let on." Cora Mae blurted out. "Everyone that goes to the rodeos knows Clint or has heard of him. Boy he could ride. We heard he quit the circuit, is it true?"

  "Yes, ma'am. Took a good woman to put a stop to that." Rusty grinned at her.

  "Jake was such a quiet man. You say he moved to Peaceful?" Samantha seemed to file this information for later use. Hannah had heard Samantha speak of Jake Travers several times and knew she still carried a torch for the cowboy. Obviously, Jake Travers had no clue, or wasn't interested.

  "Yes, he's been there quite a while."

  "Well, I'm sure he wouldn't remember me, I was quite pudgy back then. Round as a barrel."

  "Maybe you should have told him you liked him. He's a little on the shy side too. Especially around women." Rusty's infectious grin set the mood in the room. "You'd be surprised what a man remembers about a woman. Voices, eye contact, even an attitude."

  "Jake was always so serious..." Samantha's voice drifted off as though she were thinking of Jake.

  "That's Jake alright."

  "And you and Hannah—are you really engaged?" Cora Mae asked as though she had every right to.

  Rusty's mouth twitched, his eyes gleamed and then he got up, went into the back bedroom and came out again, mysteriously silent, but carrying a small black box with him. Hannah bristled. What was he up to now? She could handle these girls alone. She didn't need him prodding them on.

  "I'm hoping this makes it official," he grinned at the other ladies and dropped down on one knee, his all but somber face staring at Hannah.

  Dear God, at the dramatics he was willing to go through, Hannah grimaced.

  The girls gasped, as though they knew exactly what he was up to.

  His eyes landed on Hannah with nothing short of animal lust. How could he turn on the heat in his eyes so quickly. "I was gonna wait till tonight, Little Darlin' but I don't see why I have to now. This being Valentine's day, it's only fitting I ask you today. Will you marry me, Hannah?"

  Hannah stood staring at the small black box he presented to her. She heard the other girls gasp again, and softly laughed. She knew it was a ring, but she was speechless. First because he offered it, and second because he made such a spectacle of doing so. Down on his knees, for heaven sake, she wanted to throttle him. She'd give him a piece of her mind later.

  "Well say something, girl," Cora Mae urged her. "I'd certainly be saying something if someone gave me a proposal like that!"

  Hannah felt a lump in her throat and tried to speak, but her voice didn't sound like her own.

  "Rusty, this is so," She glanced down into his face, but there wasn't a sign of mockery there. "—unexpected. I mean...I thought we were gonna wait a while."

  "No use waiting when I know exactly what I want. Will you marry me, Little Darlin'?"

  His smile was beguiling, his manners impeccable. Hannah took the box from his hand and opened it. She expected a modest little five and dime ring that would be easily forgotten, but choked when she saw the two carat diamond staring back at her.

  She heard the other girls gasp again! Talk about impressions.

  Good grief what was he doing? Why was he being so dramatic? He could easily have bought a cheap ring and put it on her finger. But this—she hadn't expected. Of course it had to be big, she thought in retrospect, he was impressing these people with his money. And word of this hunk of rock would certainly get around town fast enough.

  Tears welled in her eyes though, and the genuine feeling of being totally overwhelmed hit her. She tried to say something, anything, but how could she? The diamond was huge, and the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen.

  Rusty stood up, smiled and took the ring and slid it on her finger, "I love you Hannah. Just say yes," he whispered throatily.

  If he'd have been an actor he couldn't have played the part any better.

  "Y-yes," she finally managed, as a tear slipped down her cheek and she quickly swatted it away as the girls’ laughter embarrassed her.

  Without hesitation Rusty stole her from their clutches and hauled her into his arms and kissed her as though he meant every word of it.

  Lost in the kiss, Hannah tasted her tears, and the exquisite taste of Rusty Travers. She was quickly growing fond of those kisses and wondered how she was going to ever give them up.

  With that sobering thought, she gently pushed him away, and gasped. "You overwhelmed me."

  That kiss left no doubt as to his intentions and the women crowded around her to admire the beautiful stone and wish her all the best. There was no need to worry now; all three of them believed he meant business.

  The girls stayed to dinner and Rusty wasn't caught two steps away from Hannah all evening. Did he honestly think she would screw it all up or something?

  Hannah felt baffled at her own inability to cope, and the embarrassment at how they made over her new engagement. Even Cora Mae bought the entire act, hook, line and sinker.

  But something niggled in the back of Hannah's mind. Most men didn't run around with a ring in their pocket. So where did this one suddenly materialize from? And he certainly hadn't expected these ladies to show up on her doorstep.

  Could this have been for the girl he really loved, somewhere? That thought put a damper on her excitement, but she played out the part till everyone left. She glanced down at the ring, and the lump in her throat felt suddenly bigger, more painful.

  Late that evening Rusty was sitting on the porch, drinking in the twinkling of stars when she joined him. She had to admit, she'd never met a man who enjoyed all the simple pleasures. Pepper, a ride at dawn, and star gazing.

  "Where's the ring?" he demanded when she sat beside him on the swing.

  She didn't look at him. "It's on the window sill in the kitchen. I didn't think I should wear something that big doing the dishes."

  He nodded. "That sounds reasonable. Just don't forget to put it back on."

  "So who does it belong to?" She asked still not looking directly at him.

  "You, of course," he added with a decided frown when she finally looked up at him.

  "No, I mean, who did it belong to?" She asked softly.

  "No one," he said quietly looking away.

  "Look, you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, but men don't go around with chunks of diamonds that big every day." She explained. "A man doesn't buy that kind of ring for a girl he hasn't even met yet. It belongs to someone, doesn't it?"

  He shrugged. "No I never got around to asking her, but that doesn't matter. Now word will get around, and it will be no secret that I've got money for this ranch. That's good. Besides, it doesn't matter."

  Something in his voice, told her it did matter and for a second she put her own feelings aside and really looked at him this time. Whoever the girl was, he had loved her, and she wouldn't make light of the situation.

  "Who was she?"

  "She? She who?" He asked getting up and standing by the porch railing as though suddenly cornered and not liking it.

  "The girl that made you buy that ring."

  For a moment he looked as though he wasn't going to say anything, and then he hung his head and in a low husky voice he nodded.

  "I guess you gotta right to know. Her name was Jennifer. We grew up together." He paused glancing at Hannah to see her reaction. "I loved her all my life, almost. Thought she felt the same. Then one day she just up and leaves, without a word. I haven't heard from her since."

  Hannah watched his face contort into a million different shades of hurt and wanted to go and comfort him, but knew that was unwise. Instead she stayed where she was. But her voice carried sympathy and respect.

  "I'm sorry. You must have lo
ved her dearly." Hannah heard herself say.

  "Yeah, well, little good that did. She didn't care." "Maybe and then maybe she didn't know what she wanted."

  "Maybe," he glanced at her then.

  "It's a beautiful ring, Rusty."

  He nodded again. "I'm glad you like it."

  "I'll take very good care of it for you." Hannah said trying to console him.

  "Yeah, I think you will."

  "What was she like?" She had to ask. Had to know.

  "Jennifer?"

  She nodded.

  "She was blonde, gorgeous. Had a figure that wouldn't quit. She had so much vitality. Wanted to do everything."

  "Everything, huh?" Hannah glanced away, then back at him. "Maybe that's why she left."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I mean, when someone grows up in one place all their life they sometimes feel stifled. They want to experience more."

  Rusty stared at her now openly assessing her. "Yeah, I just never looked at it that way."

  "Maybe you should. Maybe it wasn't you she left. Maybe it was her yearning to learn and explore the world more that she wanted so badly."

  Rusty studied her a long minute before replying. "You talk like you know the feeling."

  She smothered a soft laugh. "I did...once." "Oh, so you explored it and got bored and came

  home then?"

  She didn't want to talk about herself, nor bring herself into the conversation.

  "You might say that."

  "What kind of work did you do, Hannah?"

  The question didn't startle her so much as the way he ask it, as though he meant to uncover a secret about her past. It was only fair that she share something of herself too, but that was one thing she wouldn't be sharing with anyone, at least not unless she had to.

  "It was a good job, and paid extraordinary money."

  "I gathered that. So why didn't you stay at it?"

  "I guess I was never cut out for city work." She said and got up and started for the door. He might be curious, but he wasn't going to be hanging around, and there was no use telling him everything. He probably wouldn't be interested anyway.

  "Running away, Hannah. What deep dark secret are you carrying around?"

  "I'm not." She turned and looked at him again. A mistake, because his eyes seemed to capture hers.

  "Look, we're gonna get married, it certainly wouldn't hurt to know a little more about each other. If we don't talk this out, how can we begin to answer questions that others might ask?"

  "What questions? What others?"

  "The kind people start asking when you get married and join other groups and stuff."

  "Who said anything about joining anyone? We owe no one any explanations." Her voice rose with frustration.

  "Just each other."

  She turned to look at him squarely, a mistake again because the look on his face was seriously causing her pulse to rise. Everything about Rusty Travers made her come alive and she didn't like it one bit. She'd made up her mind a long time ago not to let anyone into her heart again. And she meant to keep that promise to herself. The one thing Hannah O'Leary wouldn't do again, is be a fool.

  But conversation couldn't cause a problem and she was open to talking. It might even help to get a few things off her chest, anything except talking about her job. She wasn't ready to confess everything...just yet.

  She sat down, sighing as though it took a lot of restraint not to object to his inquiry.

  "You want to know about me?" She asked bluntly. "Sure. Aren't you even a little curious about me?" "Maybe—just a little."

  "So—"

  "Look, there's nothing to tell. I've lived mostly a very sedate life here on the ranch. I grew up here. My mother is buried out there, under that big oak. Dad made a small cemetery there. He promised that no matter what we'd never sell this land—not as long as she is buried there. That's part of the reason this land means so much to me. I can't leave her." Her voice came to a squeak and she realized tears were close to falling.

  "When did she die?"

  "Years ago. When I was little. I remember how she loved to sing, and read to me. I remember being in the kitchen with her. She'd put me up on the counter and talk and sing to me while she fixed supper for Dad. I remember—so many little things about her, and yet, sometimes—sometimes they all seem like I dreamed them up. You know?"

  "Yeah, I think I do." He cleared his throat. "My Mama died when I was born, as I'm sure you already know. I've felt responsible for that all my life. As though I killed her. I've watched my dad mourn her death for years. And yet, I have no recollection of her at all. Just a picture, that's all."

  "That's worse, no memories...." Hannah choked on her words. "But Rusty, you can't hold yourself responsible for her death."

  It was as though some common bond had grown between them, as though they reached out and touched one another in that instant. The same heart breaking feeling of loss. Hannah took a deep breath. Don't let him get to you. He isn't staying!

  "That's why this land is so important to me." "Yeah," came his throaty reply as he looked down at her. "I think I understand that part of you Hannah."

  A warmth stole over her as she looked up at him and he smiled at her. It was like the very first time he really saw her for what she was, and it startled her. No one had come that close to her before and it scared her!

  Afraid she had let too much of herself out, she stood again and started for the door.

  A hand reached out and took hers, softly, not pulling, just holding.

  "I promise you Hannah, you'll keep this land." Rusty said and squeezed her hand till she looked at him again.

  A tear spilled and she looked away. "Thank you," she whispered and went inside.

  Chapter Six

  Rusty wrestled with his feelings that night. He didn't want to marry Hannah and not just because she wasn't as pretty as Jennifer, either. If the truth were known, he'd have to admit, he was beginning to like Hannah—a lot. Not because she was alluring exactly, although there was something about her that attracted him, he just couldn't put his finger on it. Hannah wasn’t like most the women he had known.

  No, but because marrying her would be a big lie. And she didn't deserve that. Not Hannah, she was honest, hardworking, a good person. He liked her. Still, the sooner he did marry her and get the loan approved, the sooner he could go back to his own place, his own life.

  His own place. That was the problem. It had never really been his place and he knew it. And until recently he hadn't thought much about the fact that it was Deke's place, and Dad's home. But it wasn't his. Not since he'd grown up. He didn't run things, Deke did. Through the years he had felt more like a ranch hand than part owner, even though Deke did everything to make him part of the 4 Bar None.

  He reasoned that since he'd been here, he'd helped run this ranch as much as he had at home. Maybe more. The boys in the bunkhouse had grown to like and respect him. They knew he knew his business. He liked it here. The boys had gradually come to accept him, all but Burt. Burt didn't like him, but at least he was honest about it. And he knew it had nothing to do with the ranch or the way he gave him orders.

  Why Hannah didn't see through that wrangler he couldn't begin to understand. He was simply too old for her. Hannah wasn't ugly, she wouldn't win any prizes, especially the way she dressed, but there was something very appealing about the little lady, something deeper than looks.

  It wasn't his business, and yet it was. He was the one fixing to marry her.

  Rusty thought about Deke and Emma, how happy they were. Marriage had always seemed like a likely solution when he was with Jennifer. But now there was Hannah and it was a big lie and somehow he felt like as big heel as Burt.

  He tried to conjure up Jennifer now like he had always done before, but for some reason he was having trouble with that. He couldn't quite remember how her eyes looked. How could he forget what she looked like? He'd dated her for years. Been with her practically every day. Then
she up and went away, without a word. Women...he didn't need them.

  He heard Hannah's bed creak and he knew she was lying down, most likely just opposite him on the other side of the wall. He wondered if she went straight to sleep or laid there thinking half the night like him.

  He wondered if she wore pretty little gowns or flannel or maybe nothing at all. Whoa...He didn't need to be thinking along those lines. He'd never be in her bed, and he shouldn't even go there, but the sound of those springs kept him ever alert and constantly wondering about Hannah.

  He might be getting married, but he doubted seriously if Hannah would ever welcome him in her bed. His thoughts had no right being there. But sometimes a man couldn't control thoughts. And as long as it was just thoughts it was harmless.

  *****

  The next day Rusty was riding fence, wondering when the cold spell would break and hints of spring might appear. He missed the wildflowers that dotted the pastures in the early spring. He enjoyed the spring calving and branding time. Not the monotonous winter when there was little else to do but chip blocks of ice for water, mend fences and make repairs for spring. Besides, it had been an exceptionally cold winter, and spring would change all that.

  Hannah came riding up to him in a hurry, breaking his thoughts, and handed him her cell phone. "You've got a call."

  Rusty glanced at her in surprise. He didn't even know she had a cell phone. It never rang. She was wearing her usual outfit, but somehow she looked better. Rusty couldn't put a finger to it, but she was looking better every day now. He looked forward to seeing her every morning, to hearing her voice, and even to teasing her. Her hair was combed into an appealing style, curling under with a side part at her bangs and she looked good enough to eat. He took the phone from her and stared at her with a wide grin.

  "Rusty, it's Deke. You've got to come home, quick. Can you leave today?" Rusty was still staring at Hannah and it took a few seconds to regroup his thoughts.