The Reluctant Texas Rancher (Harlequin American Romance)

by Thacker, Cathy Gillen

  Her emotions in turmoil, Liz looked at Faye Elizabeth, who was reading through a stack of what appeared to be business papers at the kitchen table.

  Aware that it was past time for her to do her own ranch chores, Liz said, “Just let me change clothes and I’ll go out and bring the goats in.”

  Her grandmother sipped her tea. “Not necessary. Reba and J.T. have already put them in the barn.”

  Surprise rendered Liz momentarily speechless. “J.T. is here? Again?” The irascible widower was certainly getting out more. In what appeared to be a good way this time.

  Faye Elizabeth nodded. “He and your mother went for a walk. He has some important decisions to make and he wanted her opinion.”

  Liz focused on the two sets of plates and silverware next to the stove. Regret mixed with guilt as she realized yet another mistake on her part.

  Faye Elizabeth rose. “Sit down. I’ll fix your plate.”

  “I’m so sorry, Grandma…I already ate,” she said sheepishly. “So did Travis. His parents invited us to their ranch at the last second, I forgot to tell you.”

  Waving off the error, Faye Elizabeth grabbed a potholder and lifted a cast-iron skillet out of the oven. In it were two chicken-fried steaks, crisp and golden-brown. In a smaller one was cream gravy. A third held two generous helpings of mashed potatoes on one side, green beans on the other. “No problem.” She began putting the food in airtight containers. “We’ll have it for lunch tomorrow. It’ll save me from cooking then.”

  Liz set her briefcase down on a chair. Springing into action, she grabbed a white chef’s apron from the hook in the pantry. “At least let me help with the dishes....”

  Liz carried the three empty skillets to the farmhouse-style sink and set them down. Out the window, she could see Travis striding toward the dogs, who were running to greet him.

  He knelt down as he reached them, and both, tails wagging, bounded into his arms, licking him under the chin.

  A wide grin split his handsome face. He ruffled their fur, massaging them with his palm.

  Knowing all too well the magic of his touch, and the impact it had on her, Liz sighed.

  Damn, but she had gotten used to seeing him every day. At breakfast and dinner. In the barn. On horseback.

  In his bed…

  Hair rumpled, muscles taut. His eyes telling her that he wanted her and only her. Right then, right there…

  Liz inhaled a jerky breath.

  Trying not to think about what life would be like on the Four Winds without him, she picked up a bottle of dish soap and squirted a generous portion on the bottom of each pan, then began running the water.

  Faye Elizabeth appeared at her elbow, drawing Liz’s attention away from the window and the man striding off toward the corral, dogs in tow. She peered into Liz’s face. “That must have been one stressful get-together at the Double Deal,” she remarked sagely.

  Liz really didn’t want to talk about it. She picked up the nylon scrubber sponge and went to work on the crustiest skillet, rubbing with all her might.

  She had to stop thinking about making love with Travis. And wishing she could be beneath the sheets with him right now.

  “What makes you say that?” She shifted and forced herself to ignore the fluttering in her middle.

  “You just put soap and water in three of my favorite cast-iron pans.”

  Liz gasped and slapped a sudsy hand against her chest. She muttered a silent curse. “I wasn’t supposed to get them wet.” She cringed and slanted a look at the family’s premiere cook. These pots and pans were as precious as gold to the accomplished chef. “Was I…?”

  Faye Elizabeth shook her head. “You clean them with salt and paper towels, and then rub them down with oil.”

  Feeling more inept than ever on the home front, Liz dumped out the water. Simply washed and dried and left that way, the pans would rust. “I’ll dry them off, clean them correctly and reseason them in the oven,” she volunteered.

  Faye Elizabeth pulled her away from the sink. “I can do that later.” She peered at Liz in concern. “You need to take a deep breath and tell me what’s going on that has you so flustered.”

  Her grandmother guided Liz through the mudroom and out onto the back porch.

  Liz sat down and turned her glance away from the sight of Travis putting out feed for the horses. Being careful not to violate client confidentiality, she explained the Andersons’ concern. “And they’re right, because if Travis had taken money from his family and hired a big-name attorney from a big Texas firm to defend him, he’d have a lot more resources at his disposal right now.” Liz sighed and dropped her head in her hands. “Maybe I have taken on more than I can handle. And I’m being out-lawyered even as we speak.”

  Her grandma patted her on the back. “It’s not like you to be so down on yourself. Usually you thrive on working to help the underdogs in any situation. You’re so confident and focused on the law.”

  Liz knew that, too. Which meant her personal ties to Travis were getting in the way of her ability to do her job.

  She cast another glance at Travis. Looking every inch a Texas cowboy, instead of a city lawyer, he was pumping water into the troughs.

  Liz turned back to her grandmother and sighed in frustration. “Travis’s whole future is at stake.” As, in a way, was hers.

  Faye Elizabeth frowned. “Your clients’ futures are always at stake. That’s why they come to you in the first place.” She searched Liz’s face. “What’s different this time?”

  What indeed?

  “Unless…” her jaw dropped “…you’re falling in love with him?”

  Liz looked into her grandmother’s eyes. The usual disapproval and wariness were curiously missing. Instead, Liz saw only tenderness.

  “Are you falling in love with him?” Faye Elizabeth pressed.

  Was she? Liz wrinkled her nose. “I thought you disapproved of me seeing him.”

  Faye Elizabeth snorted. “I’m always wary of you getting hurt.”

  “Then…?”

  “Let’s just say he’s been so persistent in his pursuit of you, he’s beginning to grow on me.” She sized Liz up. “And, by the way, you didn’t answer my question.”

  Liz flushed and resisted the urge to glance again at the only man she had ever cared about so deeply. “Because I don’t know how to answer it.” I don’t know how I feel. And right now, with the deposition looming, I’m not sure I want to know.

  The door to the porch opened, and Reba and J.T. walked out of the house. Saved by another member of the family, Liz thought, in relief. She vaulted to her feet. “Hi, you two.” She noted that they both looked happier than she had seen them in a while.

  Plus her mom was not moving nearly as stiffly as before, which must mean her sciatica was abating.

  Reba sat down on the edge of a white wicker chair. “Did you see the contracts on the kitchen table from Hill Country Donkeys?”

  The ones Faye Elizabeth had been reviewing? “I did,” Liz said with a nod.

  Reba continued soberly, “I was out there earlier today, looking at a couple of donkeys. But there are a few clauses in the contract that I think might be deal-breakers, so—”

  She stopped in midsentence as out in the barn a ruckus of baas and bleats rent the air, and all hell broke loose.

  TRAVIS AND THE DOGS RACED to the barn. He got there ahead of Liz, but just barely. Reba, J.T. and Faye Elizabeth were fast on her heels. He slid open the heavy doors and let the two dogs inside.

  In the middle of the barn, a rumble was going on.

  All twelve goats seemed to be involved in some way. Whether hiding along the edges, as two of the smaller ones were, or pressing in between the largest female and only male—aka Queenie and Buck—they were baaing and bleating, kicking and butting.

  The dogs ran around the edges, barking at them to stop. For all the damn good it did, Travis noted in frustration.

  Queenie went after Buck with all her might, shoving him agains
t the wall. When that failed to make him back down, she rammed her horns into his side. Her opponent recoiled, bleating loudly. Blood ran down his side.

  Liz shouted in distress, “Travis! Buck’s hurt!”

  “I see that!” he yelled back. Grimacing, he waded through the flock, shoving goats aside until he got to Queenie. Head down, she was going after Buck once again, so Travis quickly grabbed her, one hand around her middle, the other behind her neck so she couldn’t spear him with her horns. Ignoring her furious response, he lifted her off her feet and carried her to a birthing stall at the far end of the building, pushed her inside and firmly closed the heavy wooden door.

  Pounding ensued as the goat kicked and butted, trying to get out.

  The other animals scattered.

  J.T., Faye Elizabeth and Reba enlisted the help of the still-barking dogs and herded the rest of the goats outside to the fenced pasture closest to the barn. Only Buck remained.

  Speaking soothingly, Liz approached him.

  The billy goat stared at her, bleating softly, blood dripping down his side. Liz sighed and shook her head. “He’s going to need stitches.”

  Travis’s mood was as grim as he moved in to assist. “I’ll help you get him to the vet.”

  TO LIZ’S RELIEF, Kurt McCabe met them at his office in town. The vaunted local vet sedated the injured animal and asked them about what had happened while he cleaned and stitched up the wound.

  Relaxing in Travis’s steady, calm presence, Liz told their old school pal the whole story. “Thank heaven Travis was there to help out. None of us would have been strong enough to intervene in the fight. He’s really good in a crisis.”

  Kurt sent Travis a wry, sidelong look that seemed to ask, And what have you been up to, buddy, besides romancing the local lady lawyer? “Really?” he deadpanned.

  Liz resisted the urge to sink through the floor. Aware she had just given too much away, she sucked in a breath and continued her tale. “Anyway, we haven’t had goats on the property for a long time, but I don’t recall anything like this ever happening before.” Deciding she was standing too close to Travis, she paced restlessly to the other side of the room, ostensibly for a better view. “Of course, I don’t remember having any bucks on the property before. I think we just had females.”

  Travis chuckled. Once again, he and Kurt exchanged man-to-man grins.

  “In keeping with the Four Winds tradition, I suppose?” Travis joked.

  “What’s the saying?” Liz countered in her best country drawl, returning his teasing glance. “Don’t go fixin’ what ain’t broke to begin with?”

  “Uh-oh, cowpoke. Sounds like you may not be bunking there for very much longer, after all,” Kurt teased. “Too much testosterone for the Four Winds.”

  Travis frowned and looked at Liz, as if daring her to declare the same.

  Aware she was beginning to depend on him more and more—maybe too much—she shrugged. “I’ll have to ask my mom if you’re why she dared bring a male into the herd this time. Although I have to say, it seems like Buck here was on the losing end of the battle with Queenie.”

  “Happens sometimes,” Kurt said.

  Travis and Liz looked at the vet, who finished stitching, then bandaged the wound. “Goats are hierarchical. Every herd has a dominant female and a head buck. They’ll both fight for the top position among their gender, but they don’t usually fight the opposite sex.”

  “Then why do you think she keeps going after him?” Liz asked.

  Kurt shrugged. “Can’t really say. Maybe she’s a bully and entertains herself by pushing others around. Maybe she just likes to be dominant, or to fight and win.”

  He stripped off his gloves and stepped over to the sink to wash his hands. “Whatever the reason, you’ve got a problem here, because it may not be in her nature to behave any differently, no matter what herd she’s in.” Kurt paused. “She’s two years old, so she’s been around awhile. Does she have a history of this behavior?”

  “I don’t know.” If I had been pulling my weight, running the ranch, I would know the answer to this and many other questions, Liz thought. Knowing she couldn’t undo the past but only handle things more responsibly in the future, she added, “But I’ll find out.”

  It was dark when Liz and Travis started back to the ranch, leaving the sedated billy goat at Kurt’s office. En route, she got the number of the farm Queenie had come from and called them. She talked briefly to the owner.

  “Well?” Travis said, as soon as she had finished. He sent her a curious glance.

  Liz leaned back in her seat, liking the confident, careful way he drove. They had been thrown together a lot recently and there was no doubt he was nice company.

  Liz rubbed at a spot of dried blood and mud on her jeans, from getting the injured goat bandaged and loaded in the hauler for transport. “Apparently, Queenie’s been sold several times. But she’s always had to be returned.”

  Travis picked up speed as they hit the open road. The headlight beams illuminated the dark countryside, while light from the dash filled the cab with an intimate glow. “That would have been nice to know beforehand.”

  “No kidding.” Liz admired the firm line of his jaw, the sculpted shape of his lips. Though she wanted nothing more than to have him pull over and make out with her again, she kept the talk focused on business. “The breeders have agreed to take Queenie back and replace her with a more docile female.”

  Travis turned the pickup onto the ranch road and drove beneath the Four Winds sign toward the house. “Which means the fight for top spot will begin all over again.”

  “Um-hmm. The question is why does the process have to be so rough and ugly?”

  He shrugged. “Why do a lot of things have to be rough and ugly?”

  There was no answer, Liz knew. But her thoughts drifted, focusing again on what Kurt had said in reference to Queenie.

  Maybe she’s a bully and entertains herself by pushing others around. Maybe she just likes to be dominant. Or to fight and win. Whatever the reason, you’ve got a problem here, because it may not be in her nature to behave any differently....

  And then it hit Liz like a lightning bolt. There was a pattern of behavior to be found that could win their case! She had just been looking in the wrong place....

  When Travis cut the engine, she vaulted out of the truck, eager to get to work.

  “What’s going on?” he asked, circling around to join her.

  Leery of speaking too soon and raising his hopes, only to dash them again, Liz only said, “I have a lot more to do to prepare for the deposition. So if you wouldn’t mind…can we call it a night?”

  “WHAT DO YOU MEAN, Liz is gone?” Travis asked early the next morning.

  Tillie looked up from her breakfast. “She left last night, right after you got back from the vet. I assumed you knew.”

  He hadn’t. But then, he’d been stuck at the homestead. Alone. “Did she say where she was going?” he asked casually as he walked over to pour himself a cup of coffee.

  “Houston.” Faye Elizabeth handed him a plate. “She had some things to do before the deposition on Saturday morning. She said she was going to meet up with you there. Is that not the plan?”

  It was now. Irked, because it seemed as if his life was spiraling out of control again. Travis coolly played along.

  “I’ll be joining Liz in Houston this evening,” he told the women as he poured maple syrup on his hotcakes. “First, however, I need to pick up Buck at the vet and then return Queenie to the goat farm where you-all got her—and select a replacement.”

  “What about the guard donkeys?” Faye Elizabeth set a large glass of milk in front of Travis.

  “We can’t purchase any until Liz has a chance to look at them,” Reba said, “but not to worry. The goats’ll be fine in the barn and pasture until Liz gets back.”

  The question was, would Travis be fine, if Liz kept shutting him out this way? He’d thought she was starting to let him near. May
be not.

  He forced himself to focus on the business at hand. “If you want, I can arrange for a hired hand from the Double Deal to fill in during our absence.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” Reba said. “We Cartwright women are used to handling things without a male presence. We do just fine without a man around.”

  “Maybe that should change,” Faye Elizabeth interjected.

  Everyone turned to look at her. “Are you talking about me or Liz?” Reba asked in a curt voice. “Because there’s nothing but friendship between me and J.T. Nor will there ever be. I’m too independent and he’s too in love with his late wife for that.”

  “She was talking about Liz,” Tillie interjected. “And her future.” She frowned at Reba. “And don’t go spouting off about how all my great-granddaughter needs is a baby, not a man. Because a baby alone will never make our Lizzie happy. She needs the whole shebang.” The wise matriarch turned to give Travis a long, contemplative look. “And I think we know just the man to give it to her....”

  The Cartwright women were expecting a lot from him, Travis thought, as he headed out to get Queenie for her trip back to the goat farm. The funny thing was, he was beginning to want to give a lot, too.

  He knew Liz was focused on the malpractice charges against him. That she wanted not only to avoid going to court, but to win.

  He wanted that, too.

  More than that, he wanted for it all to be over, so they could move forward. No longer be client and attorney—or ranch hand and reluctant lady rancher—but simply a man and woman destined to be together.

  But in order to get there, he had to finish up his chores, see the Cartwright ladies were settled, and then head to Houston himself.

  Unfortunately, nothing went as planned.