by Elle James
Trace’s jaw tightened. “Thank you for seeing to our family’s needs. What more do you need from us?”
He led the way into a conference room and waited for them to be seated before settling into a chair at the end of the table. “I need to know your preferences on the casket and music. Your burial plot has been located and is being prepared. Do you have any photos you’d like to use in the video?”
The more questions the director asked, the more Rosalynn slid down in her seat.
When Lily could stand it no more, she spoke up. “If you have a list of what you expect from us, we can go through it at home. Mrs. Travis has selected the casket. I believe that was the main reason she had to be here today. So, if you’ll excuse us, we have to get back to the ranch.” She jotted an email address onto a slip of paper and handed it to the director. “Send us your list or your questions, and I’ll compose an email with the answers.”
The funeral director smiled briefly. “Of course. The funeral is in two days. I’ll need your answers no later than noon tomorrow in order to complete preparations.”
“You’ll have it,” Trace said.
“Viewing is tomorrow evening,” the director said. “You’ll want to get here early so that the family has time to visit before others arrive.”
“We’ll be here,” Rosalynn said.
Trace helped his mother to her feet and guided her out of the room and to the exit.
Once outside, Rosalynn drew in a deep breath and let it out. “I don’t know what came over me. I just suddenly couldn’t breathe.”
“We’re headed home. You can rest when we get there. Trace and I will take care of the chores,” Lily assured her.
“I need to help,” she said, her hand on the door handle to the SUV.
Trace brushed her hand aside and opened the door. “I’m here now. You need to let Lily and me take charge of the ranch.”
“Trace is right,” Lily said. “Besides, I’m sure there will be people who want to know about the funeral arrangements. Someone will need to be in the house to field those calls.”
Rosalynn sighed. “You’re probably right.”
“You’ve done enough over the past three days,” Lily said. “Let us take care of things. You need to rest.”
“I’m not an invalid,” Trace’s mother said.
“No, but you’ve lost someone dear to you. It’s emotionally and physically draining,” Lily pointed out. “I don’t know how you’ve held up, other than out of sheer cussedness.” She smiled at Rosalynn. On the outside, Rosalynn had been a rock since the sheriff had delivered the news of her husband’s death. She had to be coming apart on the inside.
A motorcycle pulled up beside them. The man driving it wore black jeans, a black T-shirt and a leather jacket. He dismounted and pulled off his helmet.
Lily braced herself. Of all the people to show up, why did Matt Hennessey have to come at that exact moment?
Matt strode up to Rosalynn. “Mrs. Travis, I just got back into town and heard about your husband.” When he reached for her hands, Trace stepped between them.
“Hennessey,” Trace said, his face stone-cold, his jaw tight.
“Travis.” Matt’s eyes narrowed. “I was speaking to your mother.”
The tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a knife.
Lily touched Matt’s arm. Matt had been her friend when no one else in the small town of Whiskey Gulch would have anything to do with her. With a background similar to hers, he’d been on the fringe of the social spectrum as well.
The bastard son of a woman who worked as a bartender at the local watering hole, he’d grown up with a rough crowd of hoodlum teens. He’d ridden a motorcycle, worn his hair a little long and sported a five o’clock shadow all day long. Sexy and dangerous, he was every girl’s secret fantasy. But not Lily’s. She’d been in love with Trace since she was in sixth grade.
Matt shook her hand off his arm and met Trace’s glare with one of his own.
Rosalynn gripped her son’s arm. “Trace, please.”
For a moment, Trace stood his ground. Then he stepped back, never losing eye contact with the other man.
Rosalynn smiled at Matt and took his hands. “Thank you, Matthew.”
“Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help. If you need anything fixed, I can fix anything with an engine and I’m not bad with a hammer.”
“That’s sweet of you,” Rosalynn said. “I might need your help if anything breaks down. With James gone—” she swallowed hard “—and Roy’s broken foot, we’re shorthanded, and although I’m good with the animals, I’m hopeless with mechanics.”
“I’m home now. I’ll take care of things,” Trace said.
Rosalynn nodded but smiled at Matt. “Thank you, Matt. You’re so kind to offer.”
“Say the word and I’ll be there to help,” Matt said. His gaze shifted from Rosalynn to Trace, his jaw tightening. “I can be out at the ranch in less than ten minutes.” He turned to Lily. “How are you holding up?”
She nodded. Matt was her friend, and she appreciated his concern, but having him in the same breathing space as Trace could be disastrous. “I’m sure you have other things to do.”
Rosalynn smiled and turned toward Trace. “Matt has his own repair shop now. He’s quite good at fixing things. He can take something other people have given up on and make it come alive again.”
Trace gave the hint of a nod, but his expression was tight. “I’m sure he can.”
Matt frowned. “I get the feeling you don’t like me. What did I ever do to you?”
Lily’s heart leaped into her throat. Now was not the time for her lies to surface. She stepped around the two men and hooked Rosalynn’s arm. “We’d love to share in this little reunion between you two men, but we need to get Mrs. Travis home before it gets dark. It’s been a difficult day.”
“Thank you, dear.” Rosalynn patted Lily’s hand. “I am tired and there are animals to be fed and laundry to be done. Thank you for stopping by, Matt. The funeral is the day after tomorrow.” She climbed into the back seat of the SUV.
Lily didn’t have the time or energy to deal with the two men. “When you’re done puffing out your chests and posturing for dominance, we can get going.”
Finally, Trace shifted his glare from Matt to Lily.
“Oh, good,” she said, her voice tight. “I’ve got your attention. Can we go now?”
Trace gave Matt a narrow-eyed stare and said in a low tone, “Stay away from my family.”
Matt snorted. “Your mother can speak for herself and Lily isn’t yours. You gave her up when you ran off to play soldier.”
Trace’s hands clenched into fists and he stepped toward Matt.
Lily gave Matt a slight shake of her head.
“I’m not the one who ran out on her,” Trace said. “You are.”
Matt frowned. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Her heart hammering, Lily did the only thing she could. She threw up her hands and made a scene. “Fine. You two can stand around and be all stubborn, hardheaded and male. I’m taking Rosalynn home. She doesn’t need whatever bull you two are throwing at each other. Trace, if you don’t want to walk back to the ranch...” She shrugged and marched around the SUV to the driver’s side, praying he wouldn’t continue the argument or throw a punch at Matt. She climbed in, started the engine and pressed hard on the accelerator without putting it into gear. The engine revved loudly.
For another long moment, the two men stared at each other.
Then Trace turned and climbed into the SUV.
Lily shifted into gear and drove away from the funeral home.
“What was all of that about?” Rosalynn asked. “Am I missing something I should know? Did you and Matt have a falling-out I don’t know about?”
“No, Mom,” T
race said, his voice tight as if he were talking through gritted teeth.
Lily bit her tongue. Now wasn’t the time to fill her boss in on the lie she’d told her son. She wasn’t sure she’d ever let her know. Rosalynn had enough trouble on her plate with her husband’s death and the threats they’d had to the ranch. And she didn’t need to be reminded that Lily had once loved her son.
Hell, seeing Trace again...stubborn and cranky as he was...
She shot a glance at the man in the seat beside her.
He stared straight ahead, his arm resting on the window ledge, his fists clenched. Trace liked to be in control of the driving. He always had.
Lily’s lips twitched.
He had to be gnashing his teeth with her behind the wheel.
She drove out of Whiskey Gulch, the town that had been named after the Whiskey Gulch Ranch.
For the first few minutes, silence reigned.
Deep in her thoughts and memories of better times with Trace, Lily was jolted back to the present when Trace asked, “What else needs to be done on the ranch besides checking the fences?”
“Plenty of things, I’m sure,” Rosalynn said. “James had mentioned the hay would be ready soon. It will need to be mowed, raked, baled and stored before it rains.”
“Trace and I can manage the mowing, raking and baling, but we’ll need help storing the rectangular bales in the barn. Otherwise, it will take days to accomplish.”
“I’ll see what I can do to muster up some ranch hands,” Trace said.
“Good luck.” Lily snorted. “I’ve never seen such a bunch of scaredy-cats in my life.”
They were turning into the ranch before Lily knew it. The sun had dipped to hover above the horizon, heralding the end of the day in a startling display of color.
Lily shielded her eyes as she drove the length of the gravel drive to the ranch house. Her pulse quickened as she was reminded that she’d be sleeping under the same roof as Trace. In the room next to his.
Sweet heaven, her heart pounded against her ribs. Why was she so worked up? It wasn’t as if they were a couple anymore. That was ancient history. He hadn’t shown any sign of attraction or desire for her. He was over her.
The problem was, she wasn’t over him.
* * *
AS SOON AS Lily parked the SUV beside the house, Trace was out and helping his mother from the vehicle.
“I really can do this on my own,” she said.
“I know, Mom, but humor me.” Trace smiled down at his mother and walked with her into the house.
As soon as she’d set her purse down, she headed for the kitchen. “I’ll rustle up something for dinner while you two take care of the animals.”
“Are you going to be all right?” Trace asked.
She gave him a watery smile. “What choice do I have? We have a ranch to run. I don’t have time to fall apart.”
“And it’s not like you to lose it.” Trace leaned down and kissed his mother’s forehead. “We’ll be back in less than an hour.”
“Take your time. I started a beef stew, but I’d like to make some corn bread to go with it.” She waved him toward the door. “Go on. Lily’s likely out there mucking stalls already. That woman is a dynamo. I didn’t know what a gem she was until I hired her to take care of the household chores.”
Trace paused with his hand on the back doorknob. “Why did you hire her, Mom?”
She shrugged. “I needed help cleaning, since I was doing all the cooking for the hands.”
Trace frowned. “What happened to Cookie?”
His mother smiled. “He was getting old, so he retired. He and his wife moved to Florida to be closer to their daughter.”
His heart squeezed hard in his chest. Cookie had been with them since Trace could remember. Cookie’s daughter, Teresa, had gone to school with Trace. She’d married straight out of high school and moved from Texas to Florida with her husband. He remembered how sad Cookie had been when she’d left.
“I’m glad he was able to retire and move close to his daughter,” Trace said. “If you need us, yell. We won’t be far.”
“I’ll be okay. Hurry before Lily does all the heavy lifting. She’s a hard worker and stubborn.” His mother smiled. “I don’t know what happened between you two, but you let a good one get away.”
“We were kids. And that was a long time ago.”
“Just saying,” his mother said.
Trace exited the house and hurried toward the barn. There was no reason he couldn’t work with Lily. What they’d had was long ago and better left forgotten. Since there were no ranch hands, he’d have to make do with Lily.
As he entered the barn, his pulse quickened.
The brushing sound of a rake scooping through muck led him to a stall where Lily was up to her gum boots in soiled straw.
She didn’t hear him at first. When she looked up, her eyes widened briefly.
“Where did you start?” Trace asked.
“I worked the first two stalls yesterday.” She pointed to the other side of the barn. “The six stalls on the other side need cleaning and the rest of the stalls on this side haven’t been mucked for a week, from what I can tell. I turned the horses loose in the paddock behind the barn until we can finish the job. The other rake is hanging on the wall by the door. The second wheelbarrow is out back of the barn.” Lily dug into the straw and flipped a pile of dirty straw into her wheelbarrow, her eyes on her work.
For a moment longer, Trace watched Lily, admiring the strength in her arms and her determination to get the job done. She’d always been willing to work, no matter how hard the task. It was one of the reasons he’d fallen so hard for her. Most women he’d known since wouldn’t do what Lily was doing for fear of getting dirt beneath their fingernails or, Lord forbid, breaking one.
Trace grabbed the wheelbarrow from outside and went to work cleaning the six stalls on the opposite side of the barn. Every once in a while, he’d catch a glimpse of Lily. Once, he’d found her staring back at him.
Since she hadn’t married Matt Hennessey, did she still have good memories about the time they’d spent together as teens? Did it matter? Did he care?
Unfortunately, he found himself caring too much. Over the years they’d been apart, he hadn’t been able to move on. Perhaps working side by side, he’d finally be able to let go of the woman who’d haunted his thoughts. He hoped it wouldn’t take long for him to get over her. At that moment, his desire was nearly as strong as it had been eleven years ago. He didn’t have time to work through his feelings. He had a ranch to run and his father’s murderer to locate and neutralize. If he wanted help, he needed men who had skills similar to his. If they had ranching experience, that was a bonus.
As soon as he got back to the ranch, he got to work, making phone calls to the men he knew or had known in the past. He was banking on the strength of brotherhood. He needed his team now.
Chapter Four
Over the next couple of days, Lily kept busy between James Travis’s viewing and funeral, taking care of the house, and helping out with the animals. To the best of her abilities, she avoided Trace as much as possible. With her bedroom next to his, she couldn’t elude him completely. Knowing he was on the other side of the wall left her sleepless and on edge. Only a few feet separated them physically. But the emotional chasm between them might as well have been as wide as the Grand Canyon.
He barely talked to her, although he worked alongside her in the barn and as they took care of the animals. Gone were the times they would run laughing into the stalls, stopping to kiss and hold each other. They’d been young, in love, happy to be alive and with each other.
James Travis had never liked her. He’d met her in the barn one day when she’d been waiting for Trace to join her for horseback riding. He’d told her she wasn’t good enough for his son and that he would never make any
thing of himself as long as she was around.
He’d known his son was considering joining the military. He’d blamed her for Trace’s interest in leaving Whiskey Gulch. If she insisted on staying with him, her background would keep him from getting his security clearance. She’d ruin his career in the army before it started.
When Trace walked in on his father telling her these things, Trace had blown up. He’d told his father to stay out of his life and he’d stay out of his.
That day Trace had loaded Lily into his truck, taken her home, and then driven to the nearest US Army recruiting station and enlisted. The staff sergeant who’d taken Trace’s information informed him that he’d have to complete clearance forms and a background check.
Still shaking from that encounter with James Travis, Lily let the patriarch’s words sink in. If she stayed with Trace, she would hold him back. She’d never been in trouble with the law, but her mother had been arrested on multiple occasions for prostitution. Her biological father was in prison for armed robbery. She’d been so afraid her parents’ legacy would taint her and thus him in his background check. Once again, the sins of her parents were impacting her.
Lily had known for a long time that Trace had a need to get out on his own. He’d been talking about joining the military since he started high school. As soon as he graduated, he wanted to leave Whiskey Gulch Ranch and make it on his own. His father kept such tight reins on the ranch that, if he stayed, Trace would never be allowed to make decisions for himself.
From Trace’s first mention of joining the military, James Travis had discouraged his son’s decision. He’d assumed Trace would stay and eventually run the ranch, his inheritance.
Trace knew better. He would never run the Whiskey Gulch Ranch until his father died.
As Lily listened to James Travis that day, she’d come to the realization that Trace needed to get away from his father. If he didn’t, he would grow to hate the man even more, and possibly hate himself.
The only way he’d make it past the background check was if she wasn’t in the picture with her family’s checkered past. He’d said he’d get in, go through bootcamp and advanced training, then he’d send for her. As close as they’d become, if she’d tried to break up with him, he’d still try to convince her to wait for him.
