by Rita Hestand
*****
"What do you mean, Josey, she's gone?" Rusty demanded as he spoke through the screen door of the bunkhouse.
"I mean she packed up and left last week." Josey said as her sister came to stand beside her.
Rusty looked at the other woman, and not recognizing her twisted his head as if to ask..
"Oh, this is my sister, Katie." Josey explained. "She's staying with me till I get word from Hannah on what to do with things here. We'll be out of here by next week. They foreclosed....you know."
Rusty nodded. "I saw it boarded up. When will she be back?" Rusty asked.
"Don't know. Said when they delivered the papers to get an apartment in town and write her." Josey said.
"Write her where?" Rusty demanded.
"I don't know....I mean....well, I guess she's gone back to Vegas." Josey said throwing her hands in the air in exasperation.
"Vegas!" Rusty boomed.
Josey eyed him closely. "Said she was gonna earn the money to pay for this place or lose it, but she wouldn't be beholdin' to any man."
"Beholdin'?"
"That was her words alright." Josey nodded.
Rusty backed away from the screen, ran a hand through his hair and put his hat back on his head. "I've got to find her Josey. I've got to."
"Yes sir, I can see that." Josey nodded, a slow smile curling her lips.
"Thanks...." Rusty said, starting to walk off.
"Where you goin'?" Josey asked.
"To see Mr. Simmons and straighten out all the paper work, then to bring her home."
Josey laughed out loud, "Yes siree, that's good. It sure is!"
Rusty headed for Pecos.
Katie turned to Josey, "Now who on earth was that man?"
Josey laughed, threw her arm around her little sister and replied, "Why honey, that was Hannah's Man!"
Chapter Twelve
"Mr. Simmons?" Rusty approached the banker with all the confidence in the world.
"Aw...Mr. Travers. How nice to see you. What can I do for you? I got the paperwork drawn up just as you requested. All I need is your signature." the banker said as though they were old friends.
Remembering the last time he was in the bank, Rusty almost shook his head, but knew that business was business.
"I'll take care of that formality right now. And you did as I requested and put it in both our names, right?" Rusty said pointing to the office they had used the last time.
"Mr. Rusty Travers and Mrs. Hannah Travers, as you requested." Mr. Simmons motioned.
"I suppose this is sorta like a wedding present then for her...?"
"Absolutely." Rusty explained.
"We'll need her signature too."
"You'll have it in a few days, I promise." Rusty nodded and signed the document.
"Well, it's a pleasure doing business with you Mr. Travers. I hope our association will be long and fruitful?" Mr. Simmons asked.
Rusty shook his hand and walked out into the sunlight.
At least he had stood firm and convinced Simmons of his intentions. Now to convince Hannah!
*****
Hannah adjusted her headset again for the fourth time. She hadn't remembered just how heavy they sometimes were. Following directions she had only messed up twice, but according to Vic, that was two too many times. He expected her to be in the line-up tonight, and she was not prepared to go back on so soon. Every part of her body screamed that she wasn't ready for a performance yet.
"That was pretty good, but you've got to do better." Vic said coming up to her and handing her a towel.
"I'm trying. It's been a while." She reasoned mopping her forehead with the towel and rubbing her legs against the cramps that threatened each time she practiced.
Vic pulled her off the stage, took her in his arms and kissed her. She didn't respond. She felt like a piece of wood, unmoved by any emotion except pure exhaustion. He looked into her eyes and frowned.
"Did you go an fall for that cowboy?" Vic asked backing away from her so he could look at her.
Hannah hung her head. She didn't want to think about Rusty. It was still much too painful. All she wanted was to dance, make money, and somehow, get her ranch back, if that were possible.
Exhaustion made her moody and she answered angrily. "I came back to dance Vic. That's all. But don't butt into my private life."
"Okay, fine, so dance. Quit falling on your face out there and dance. Show me what you've got. Only if you can't cut it, just say the word. Get out now. I'm not babysitting a love-sick cowgirl. Make up your mind what you want, Hannah."
"I told you what I want. I want to work." She protested as her leg nearly folded under her.
"Alright. Then practice till your good again." He instructed and walked away.
Until she was good again? Did that mean she was bad? Oh, she knew she was out of shape, but was she really that bad? She couldn't be. She had to push herself to make it. She had to work till she couldn't stand, let alone dance.
With that firmly planted in her mind, she began to rehearse again. Still, she faltered on some steps. She silently scolded herself, wondering why she had suddenly become almost clumsy.
Out of shape, her mind reeled. She had to get 'into shape'.
One, two, three, four, pivot, turn, walk, then glide like an angel. Oh she could do this. Couldn't she?
The lights bore down on her and she felt the sweat peppering her forehead and upper lip. She felt like a pig. Thinking of that made her homesick. She couldn't concentrate on the ranch right now. Right now, she had to concentrate on the dance.
The other girls watched on the sidelines as she practiced and wondered why she worked so hard. Before it had come natural to her, now she had to work at it.
"You'll never have to work there again," rang Rusty's words in her head.
She had to forget Rusty. He had been wrong. He had lied to her, and she had to forget him.
As she moved, and glided across the floor her mind drifted off and suddenly the choreographer was standing before her.
"What are you doing?"
"W-what?" she asked coming out of her reverie.
"That wasn't the move you were supposed to make. What are you thinking?"
"I'm sorry!" She shouted. "I'm tired. I need to rest." "You go on tonight. You can't rest." he insisted.
Can't rest, can't rest! Her mind was screaming at her to run away from here, but she knew she had to stay. She had to see this through.
"Now...again!" came the call from the distance.
This time she did better. But her legs were cramping and she would have to rest soon or she would never go on.
Then the costume director came on stage and handed her the costume for tonight's number.
She shrieked. "No...I can't wear this! It must be a mistake."
From out of nowhere Vic appeared. "Oh yes you will. You wanted a job, you got one. But you will work for it, and you will wear this costume."
"I-I can't, Vic. You know I can't."
"What? It's against your religion?" he asked sarcastically.
"Maybe it is...." she said dejectedly.
He shook his head. "You wear this costume or you don't go on...ever!"
"Then she won't go on...ever!" came a voice from the darkness of the theater.
Everyone turned around trying to find the voice. "Who's out there?" Vic called, shading his eyes from the stage lights to see.
Hannah didn't have to, she recognized that voice. Her head flew up, and tears welled in her eyes. It was Rusty. He was here!
"Rusty Travers, Hannah's husband, if you recall!"
Hannah came forward just a little.
"And I say if she dances, she'll wear this costume, and be glad of it. Now what do you say Hannah?"
Hannah saw Rusty approach the bottom of the stage stairs. She felt her heartbeat quicken. Her palms sweat, her mind went into overdrive. How could she answer? How could she take her eyes from the one man who meant so much to her?
&n
bsp; "I-I"
"She won't be dancing for you any more..." Rusty said calmly. "She's coming home, with me."
Hannah stared at Rusty as though he weren't real. There he stood in all his splendor, the cowboy. He wore fitted jeans, a chambray shirt with a brown corduroy jacket and that ever famous brown felt hat. He looked good enough to eat. Every fiber of her being strained to go to him, but she fought it.
Then sanity prevailed and she found her voice again. "Rusty, I've got to do this. Please, don't interfere. Just go home."
Rusty bowed his head a moment, and then raised his chin defiantly, "And exactly where is my home, now Hannah?"
Hannah stared into his beautiful blue eyes one last time, before bowing her head, "The 4 Bar None."
"Is that the way you really want it?" Rusty asked.
Hannah hesitated, wishing she could run to him, and beg him to stay with her. But she nodded.
"We've got things to talk about Hannah. And I'm not leaving till we've talked them out." Rusty persisted.
Hannah walked slowly up to him, so close she could smell the faint odor of his woodsy cologne, feel the warmth of his breath against her cheek as he spoke, so close she could almost feel the smooth of his cheek. "I'm sorry, but I think you better leave."
Rusty stared long and hard at her, and then walked slowly back the way he had come. Hannah stared after him, unaware that tears were falling down her cheek.
Some of the other dancers came up to her and tried to comfort her, but she insisted she was okay and that she had to get back to work.
Hannah ignored the fact that she wouldn't wear the costume. Ignored the fact that her heart was breaking and kept on practicing. As though the act of practicing would make the ache inside her go away.
But later that night, she was standing alone in her dressing room and trying to figure out how she would go on stage in that ridiculous costume when Rusty came into the room. He locked the door with a key and turned to face her.
"W-what are you doing here?" she gasped, already drinking in his handsome face. She had long ago memorized that face. Those dark blue eyes that danced when he was teasing, the furrow in his brow when he was worried, the stubborn jut of his chin when he was determined. "How did you get the key?"
"Looks like this is the only way we are gonna talk this out."
"There's nothing to talk about Rusty." Hannah swept past him and tried to unlock the door, but he had taken the key and put it in his pocket.
"Looking for this?" he dangled the key in front of her then put it back in his coat pocket.
"Why did you come here?" she asked. "To get my wife back." he said simply.
"I can't go back with you Rusty." She waited for that to sink in before she continued. "We were silly to think we could make this work. Jennifer is too much a part of your life. You can't just wipe her out, even if you wanted to. Please...don't make this any harder than it is. Just go home."
"You actually believe I fathered her baby...after what I told you, in Vegas?" He rasped.
Hannah shook her head and turned away, pretending to check the costume. The cold costume glittered, but it held no interest for her.
"It doesn't matter what I believe." she mumbled. "The hell it doesn't," he rasped, pulling her back around to meet his somber gaze. His fingers burned where he touched her on the arms.
"I wasn't lying to you. I've never touched Jennifer or any woman, Hannah. Not that I don't want to right this minute, but we've got to straighten this out, and now. I didn't mean for it to happen."
Hannah felt hot tears sting her eyes, "Why are you telling me all this? Why do you care what I think?"
A smoldering look crossed his face as he held her at arm's length. Then shook her gently. "Because I love you Hannah. Because I didn't lie to you, wouldn't lie to you." "B-but...the baby?" Hannah gasped, trying to take in his words and afraid to believe in them.
"Isn't mine. I've never touched Jennifer. She met a man, thought she was in love and got pregnant. Then found out he was married and had no intention of marrying her. The usual story I guess. It's not mine, Hannah. I never touched her. Won't you believe me?"
"But her parents...."
"Didn't know the truth either. They do now." Rusty's glance went over her thoroughly.
Hannah stood there staring into his eyes, watching the display of lights, and darks in his eyes. And then she knew. He wasn't lying.
A slow burning smile lit her lips, "You love me?" "With all my heart, Little Darlin'. I want a chance to make this a real marriage Hannah. We've got something very good here. Let's don't lose it." He suggested and pulled her into his waiting arms.
Hannah felt the heat of the moment as her body glided into his arms.
Then suddenly his lips touched hers and she lost all resistance. She loved this man truly and nothing could prevent her from showing him just how much.
"Oh, Rusty....I've missed you so much. I wanted to call...to hear your voice. But I was afraid I'd hear rejection and I couldn't face that."
"I'd never reject you Darlin'. Never." He said in a rough rasp. He held her closely then set her away and stared into her eyes.
Slowly he reached up to stroke her cheek and smile into her tear stained eyes. "Don't cry, Little Darlin'."
"I can't help it. I'm so happy..." she cried
"Me too....me too!" As his lips found hers she knew instantly that she'd found her man. She knew they would make it together, because they both felt the same about so many things that were important in life.
"But.." she pulled back just a little, "What about Jennifer?"
"What about her?" He asked, intent on destroying all her defenses at once as he kissed her eyes, her nose, her cheek, and then her lips. His tongue sought the sweetness of her own and he groaned as he pulled away just in time.
He had come after her, and now she would go home...with him. But where was home?
"Oh Rusty," she cried pulling out of his arms and pacing. "The ranch...it's gone!"
"Does it matter...I mean, can't we make a home anywhere as long as we're together."
The smile in his eyes promised her heaven, and she nodded without another word and flew into his arms.
"Of course...I'm sorry." she said kissing his neck. His cologne tickled her nose, as she melted in his arms. It was so right, her mind cried.
He kissed her solidly on the lips, then whispered, "Good, now let's get out of here and go home."
She glanced at the sequined dress, "Oh yes, let's."
*****
The Lear jet was nearing the runway in Midland. Hannah was puzzled; she thought they'd be flying to the 4 Bar None.
"Rusty, where are we going?"
"I thought you might want to see the place one last time," he remarked, not looking directly at her.
"Oh, yes, do you think they'd mind?" she asked wistfully.
"They? They who?"
"The ones that bought it?" she quipped.
Rusty glanced at her and quickly glanced away, as though hiding some unknown emotion. "No, I don't think they would."
Rusty rented a car in Midland and they drove out to the old ranch place.
There was no for sale sign up. The boarded up ranch house was now painted and looking like new. The barn had been repaired too.
Hannah felt the hot tears welling, but she was determined not to let them fall. Instead she made her way towards the small cemetery that her father had created.
She saw the well-kept lawn there, the fresh flowers on the grave of her mother.
"Someone's been here? I wonder who? I mean...who would put flowers on Mother's grave?"
Rusty smiled and turned her so he could look into her face...."Me."
"You ." She gasped looking into his eyes. "But how could you. You've been with me..." Then it dawned on her. "Oh...the cell phone huh?"
He nodded.
"The house looks beautiful Rusty," she whispered as he pulled her close.
"Let's go inside."
"Oh, do you think
we should?" she asked, peering about as though the new owner might suddenly appear.
"It'll be fine, come on." He said and pulled her by the hand.
As they walked in, Hannah gasped. Nothing had changed. Not one thing. Her furniture was back in the living room. Her kitchen was stocked. And Pepper peered around the door to greet her with a big lick on her face.
"Rusty...what is this?" She asked totally shocked. "The new owners...are the old owners. We own it."
He smiled as he pulled her into his arms. He picked her up and held her close to him.
"Welcome home, Mrs. Travers." He whispered as his lips found hers in a kiss that touched time.
Hannah melted into his arms, breathless for his kiss. Then slowly, as though it pained her to turn lose of his mouth, she moved her head to look into his eyes. "What have you done?"
"I bought this place, lock, stock and barrel, for you. It's ours!" He said and carried her into her bedroom.
He kicked the door closed and for long moments there were many oohs and ahhs coming from the bedroom.
"Oh Rusty....my love...."
"You know I could grow used to being called....Hannah's Man."
Pepper lay down in front of the bedroom door, relaxed and closed his eyes. The Travers had come home!
The End
Along Came Love
(Book Four of the Travers Brothers Series)
By Rita Hestand
Along Came Love
by
Rita Hestand
published by Smashwords.com
All Rights Reserved
Along Came Love
Dedication
Since The Travers Brothers series is a family story, written for each brother, I'd like to take this opportunity to thank my own family who for years put up with me not being there, not being available and for continuing to love me nevertheless. God Bless—Rita Hestand
Prologue
Before she could put her foot on the second step, she heard the creaking of the wood, she saw her foot going through it and she went crashing to the ground. "Oh…no"
