The Reluctant Texas Rancher (Harlequin American Romance)

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The Reluctant Texas Rancher (Harlequin American Romance) Page 2

by Thacker, Cathy Gillen


  Pushing the attraction away, he said, “The ad posted in the feed store said the position included room and board and being on call 24/7.” Which made it perfect for him…and his goals.

  Liz huffed, clearly as annoyed by his accommodating attitude as she was by his presence. With only a cursory look at the cattle grazing in the pasture beyond, she wheeled around and took off in the opposite direction. “Don’t get too excited,” she said, tossing a mocking glance over her shoulder. “You haven’t seen your quarters yet.”

  Travis admired the sway of her slender hips and the purposeful way her long legs ate up the ground. He caught up with her, so they were walking side by side. “Does this mean I’ll get the room next to yours?”

  Liz shot him a drop-dead look and headed toward the one-room log cabin behind the barns. En route, they passed the main ranch house, an angular, U-shaped domicile made of rough-hewn timber and flat-cut stone, with wide porches on the front and back. “Actually, you’re getting my room. Or what was my room, once I clear my stuff out. You’ll be bunking in the old homestead.”

  He was close enough to smell the jasmine scent of her perfume. Not a good thing, given what it did to his libido.

  He eased back as they reached a field of knee-high grass, interspersed with Texas wildflowers. “Well, that’s exciting.”

  “Not really.” Mirroring his ironic tone, Liz paused to open a gate in the weathered wood fence. “It’s very primitive.”

  He shrugged. “There’s something to be said for whittling life down to the very basics.”

  As he was doing today.

  It made you reevaluate. Think about what you wanted versus what you needed. It made it easier to set a goal and develop a plan to go after what you had to have to be happy.

  Travis was ready to do that, and more.

  Liz latched the gate behind them, then carried on. “You say that now,” she predicted. “You may be singing a different tune later.”

  She really didn’t know him. “Does it have indoor plumbing?”

  She slanted him a glance from beneath those thick auburn lashes. “As well as electricity. But no real kitchen. So you’ll have to take your meals in the main house with us, unless you want to get by on whatever you can store in the minifridge and whip up on a hot plate or microwave.”

  He ignored her attempt to discourage him. The way her shirt cupped her breasts was not so easy to disregard.

  Folding his arms, he tried to ignore the pressure starting at the front of his jeans. “Thanks for the option, but I’m not much of a cook.”

  Amusement glimmered in her eyes. “Somehow I suspected that would still be the case.”

  Okay, that was definitely a dig, but he wasn’t going to apologize for the single-minded dedication he had given to his path in life. It had gotten him where he wanted to go, and then some. The fact that some of it had recently derailed was his fault, sure, but being here would fix that.

  “Faye Elizabeth, on the other hand, is legendary for her culinary skills,” Travis continued, with lazy insistence. That was one bonus for being on the ranch, right there.

  Liz rolled her eyes. “And there is nothing my grandmother likes more than an appreciative audience for her efforts.”

  “She’ll have that in me,” he promised. These days, he would take his pleasure where he could get it.

  Liz paused at the door to the homestead. “My question is why are you really doing this?” She eyed him skeptically. “And don’t give me that you-just-want-to-be-a-rancher-and-ride-the-open-range bit again, Travis Anderson. Because I’m just not buying it!”

  Chapter Two

  For a moment, Liz thought Travis wasn’t going to answer her. Then he reached into his pocket for his wallet, took a twenty-dollar bill and handed it to her.

  She gazed into his intelligent gray eyes, wishing he wasn’t such a fine example of masculine intensity. But he was. With the kind of good looks that only got better with age. The sensuality of his lips perfectly complemented his other bold, handsome features. And the rest of him was just as fine. He was six foot three inches of solid, indomitable male, and he used it to his advantage.

  Which made his arrival back in Laramie County all the more perplexing.

  Doing her best to control the sudden hitch in her breathing, Liz looked down at the bill in her hand and remarked with humor, “I’m dying to know what this is for.”

  He took off his hat as he followed her inside. “I want to hire you to represent me.”

  Was he serious? The brooding look in his eyes said he was.

  Liz watched him run a hand through dark, tousled hair, which was several weeks past time for a cut. “Well, then it’s going to cost you a heck of a lot more than twenty dollars,” she said, setting her lingering physical attraction to him aside. “An initial consultation is two hundred dollars.” And there were other reasons she should say no, too.

  Travis nodded amiably. “Consider that a down payment for helping me clear my name and get my career back on track.”

  Of all the things he could have confided in her, this was the last Liz ever would have expected. She stared at him in surprise.

  “My law license has been suspended for six months. I want you to handle the appeal.”

  Curiosity won out over common sense. “What did you do?” she asked in shock.

  Tensing, Travis looked around the cabin, taking in the brass bed and wooden armoire, the old leather sofa, the table and two chairs. Tucked into the open shelving that served as a pantry was a minifridge, microwave and hot plate. Adjacent to that was an old-fashioned kitchen sink. A small bathroom, with pedestal sink and narrow shower, had been added on.

  He turned back to her, clearly not happy about having to admit, “I disappointed a client who is now suing me for legal malpractice.”

  Silence fell between them. It was impossible to imagine the Travis she had grown up with doing anything unethical or foolish. “Are you still with Haverty, Brockman & Roberts?”

  He settled on the arm of the sofa and stretched his legs out. “They asked me to tender my resignation.”

  Liz edged close enough to be able to see his eyes. In the dim light of the cabin, they were the color of an approaching spring storm.

  “So they wouldn’t have to pay you severance, right?”

  Travis shrugged, the turbulent emotion on his face fading to acceptance. “I got something out of it, too,” he admitted quietly. “It always looks better to resign than to be fired.”

  True.

  The uncomfortable silence between them lengthened.

  Travis studied her with narrowed eyes. “What have you heard about what’s been going on?” he asked curiously.

  “In legal circles? Not much…except whatever you did to vault you off the fast track was being kept very hush-hush by the senior partners.”

  Travis locked gazes with her. He rested a callused hand on his thigh in a move that wasn’t quite as easy and relaxed as it seemed. “Well, that’s no longer the case.” He exhaled roughly, lips taut. “As of yesterday, the senior partners are letting it be known all over Houston that they are as disappointed in me as my former client is, and they are going to be helping her in the lawsuit being waged against me.”

  Not good. Not good at all. “In return for keeping Haverty, Brockman & Roberts from being sued, as well?” Liz guessed.

  Travis’s eyes hardened. “Sacrificing me is the only way they can protect the firm and keep Olympia Herndon’s business.”

  Liz studied him with the same reserve she would have used with any other client. “Why ask me to represent you? Why not go to another big firm—maybe even an HB&R rival—back in Houston?” There were always competitors eager to take another law firm down a notch.

  That was the more logical route to go.

  But, apparently, not to him.

  Travis faced her boldly, his annoyance at having to explain himself evident. “Everything I have worked for is on the line. I need an attorney I can trust, someone str
ong and savvy enough to handle this. And you’ve got a reputation for finding out-of-court solutions where there seem to be none.”

  That was true. Although, out of courtesy, Liz felt duty-bound to point out, “Your malpractice insurance company can do that for you, Travis.”

  He grimaced. “They’re interested in making the problem go away via a large cash settlement that will not only raise my rates but make it look as if I did something wrong, when I didn’t. I want to come out of this with my professional reputation intact.”

  “So you’re asserting that there is no validity to any of the charges against you?”

  “Everything I did was in my client’s best interest. If the huge business deal Olympia Herndon was chasing had gone through, I have no doubt I would still be representing her. But it didn’t. So—” his broad shoulders lifted in a tense shrug “—someone had to take the fall....”

  And that someone had been Travis.

  “What about your family?” Liz asked quietly, knowing this couldn’t be going over well with the Andersons. They would be furious at even the implication that Travis had acted less than admirably.

  “They know I quit my job in Houston, although I was vague about the reasons. They don’t know about the six-month suspension of my law license, or the lawsuit. And I don’t want them to know until after it’s resolved.”

  Liz could understand that. Being falsely accused was humiliating and demoralizing.

  Still, it didn’t mean keeping his loved ones in the dark was right. “They’d be on your side,” she predicted.

  Travis frowned again. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t want them embarrassed by any of this. And I especially don’t want them to offer to help out with any of the legal expenses.”

  Ah, yes, money… “Why not?” Liz asked. Kelsey and Brady Anderson ran the Double Deal Ranch, one of the biggest, most successful cattle and horse operations in the state. They could easily afford it.

  “Because—in their view, anyway—that would entitle them to be involved in strategy.”

  Liz empathized with him. She was fiercely independent by nature, too. “This is your problem. You want to solve it.”

  Travis nodded. “With your help.”

  He made it sound so personal…but why was she even considering this?

  Years ago, she had fallen hard and fast for Travis. And had her heart stomped on as a result.

  Now he needed her.

  She should say no.

  The irony of it was that she wouldn’t—couldn’t—turn away. Partly because she loved helping the underdog and could never resist a challenge. And Travis was that. The rest was more insidious. And deeply personal.

  Now that he was back, she had to prove she’d gotten past the devastation of their breakup. That he no longer had the power to hurt her. That she had moved on to a happy, defiantly single and bulletproof life.

  This was the best way.

  Liz paused, sizing him up, her attorney radar on full alert. He remained all-innocence. Too innocent!

  She tapped her index finger against her lips in a parody of thoughtfulness. “Why do I think you’re still not telling me everything?” she asked suspiciously.

  “There is one small difficulty.” Travis’s mouth compressed grimly. “I don’t have the money to pay you.”

  You’ve got to be kidding me.

  “I can compensate you monetarily for the initial consultation. Beyond that…” Travis stood and lazily ambled toward her “…I’ll have to work off whatever I owe you, on this ranch.”

  THE FINANCIAL ARRANGEMENTS alone should have been reason enough to turn down Travis’s request. Add to that the fact the two of them had once dated, albeit a very long time ago… But the bottom line was that the Four Winds bank accounts were at record lows, and he would be doing them a favor, embarking on a bartering agreement.

  “You’re saying I can deduct my fees from your salary,” Liz ascertained, thinking how much that would help the ranch coffers.

  “Until we’re even. Yep.”

  Confident that she could easily separate the business from the personal, she held out her palm. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

  They shook on it. Unprecedented warmth spread throughout her body as Travis’s hand engulfed hers. Liz’s throat went dry as she gazed up into his eyes. Maybe it wasn’t going to be as easy to keep her emotional distance as she thought.

  Luckily, the moment was interrupted by the loud chiming of the ranch bell.

  Smiling cheerfully, she let go of his palm and stepped back. “Dinner is ready.”

  Travis reached for his hat and slapped it back on his head, tugging it low across his brow. “Best not keep the ladies waiting, then.”

  Together they slipped out of the homestead and headed past the barns to the ranch house.

  “One more thing,” Travis cautioned after a moment.

  Liz kept moving, staying a careful distance away from him, but slanting him a curious look.

  “I’d rather Tillie, Faye Elizabeth and Reba not know I’ve retained your services as an attorney. At least until my, uh, difficulty is all cleared up.”

  Thanks to the way Liz had been running off at the mouth earlier, the other Cartwright women already knew she’d suspected Travis was in some sort of downward spiral. Not that any of them seemed to care.

  Liz sidestepped the opportunity to tell Travis that, and said, “I’m bound by attorney-client privilege now, as you well know. So they’ll hear nothing from me about what you’ve just told me. But lawsuits are a matter of public record, as are the suspension of law licenses.” For the second time, she warned, “This is going to get out.”

  He nodded, clearly aware of that. “But until it does…we’ll let others assume that you and I are spending time together to go over ranch business, or reestablish our previous friendship. Agreed?”

  Secrets of this sort bred an intimacy they did not need. Yet what choice did she have? Reluctantly, Liz conceded. “For now, no one else needs to know I’m representing you.”

  He exhaled in relief.

  Bound together by the confidence, they continued walking toward the house, through the back door and into the kitchen.

  “Where have you two been?” Faye Elizabeth demanded, as always on the alert for romance in Liz’s life. “And why don’t you have your things? I assumed that was what was taking so long at the homestead.”

  Not quite, Liz thought, keeping her expression bland so as not to give anything away.

  Travis removed his hat and put it on a hook near the door. “That was my fault, I’m afraid.” He flashed a winning smile and ran a hand through the rumpled layers of his dark brown hair. “I got to talking....”

  And asking for help, Liz thought, still a little amazed he had needed it.

  Clearly exasperated, Tillie herded them all toward the large, old-fashioned kitchen table—and the dinner the women had lovingly prepared. “Let them be. We’ve got a hot meal to eat.”

  And a big, strapping man to feed....

  “As well as serious business to discuss,” Reba added as they all sat down at the big oak table.

  Travis’s knee nudged Liz’s as they got situated.

  She flushed at the unexpected wave of heat that resulted, and edged back in her chair.

  Oblivious to Liz’s reaction, Reba complained, “We are way behind in the ranch work.”

  Liz forced herself to concentrate on something other than Travis’s big, rangy frame.

  “I know that, Mom.” She tried not to feel as if the fate of the Four Winds was resting on her shoulders. Or would be, if she would only do what the others wanted and take over the running of the ranch, as tradition dictated. “It’s why we hired Travis to help us.”

  Liz looked at him, hoping he would get the hint and divert their attention.

  “Maybe you should make a list of what needs to be done, and in what order,” he suggested with a faint smile.

  While the women looked on approvingly, he placed a generous serv
ing of tender, juicy beef brisket on his plate.

  Reba passed the heaping bowl of skillet corn, livened up with diced onion and green and red pepper. “Liz can help you with that.”

  Liz knew a bit of ham-handed matchmaking when she saw it. She suppressed a beleaguered sigh while dishing potato salad and coleslaw onto her plate. “I think you should do it, Mom. Since you’re the one running the physical side of the ranch. I’m only here when I can be, to help out.”

  Which wasn’t all that often, given the demands of her law practice.

  Reba disagreed. “I’ve been wanting to pass the responsibility on to you for several years now. And especially now, with my sciatica acting up again…and Travis here to do the heavy labor. It seems like it is finally time for you to take over the reins of the Four Winds.”

  It might seem that way to the other Cartwright women, perhaps, Liz thought with mounting resentment. Not to her.

  Travis arched a brow.

  “You know what to do, Liz,” Reba continued persuasively. “All I’m asking is that you find time to do it.”

  Sidestepping the familiar argument, Liz spread a gingham napkin across her lap. She understood her duty to her family. She just couldn’t do everything they wanted her to, when they wanted it done. “First things first.” Trying not to notice how easily he had made himself at home in such an estrogen-charged environment, she locked eyes with Travis. “I have to clear my belongings out of the homestead so Travis can move in.”

  “YOU DON’T HAVE ANY intention of ever taking over management of this ranch, do you?” Travis murmured, after the meal had been concluded and the two of them had been shooed out of the ranch house and over to the homestead to get the moving done.

  Just go right to the heart of things, why don’t you? Liz thought.

  Hating the way he saw inside her head—zeroing in on what no one else knew, even after all this time—she opened up the bureau drawers and moved her clothing into two open suitcases.

  With her voice as crisp and businesslike as her actions, she continued, “It isn’t necessary right now, since Great-grandma Tillie is still doing the books and the land management, Grandma Faye Elizabeth is doing the majority of the cooking and housekeeping, and my mom is overseeing most of the actual labor.”

 

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