Falling for the Cowgirl

by Tina Radcliffe

  Travis raised a hand. “Yep. I heard you the first time.”

  Though, once again, for a brief moment her heart whispered that she was fooling herself. The image of a dark-haired little girl and a boy who looked exactly like Travis danced through her mind, leaving an ache in her chest.

  “What about you?” she asked softly.

  “I’d like at least six.”

  “Six? Oh, you can’t be serious.”

  “I’m more serious than you can imagine. I want to adopt a few, as well.” He winked at her. “You can pick your jaw up now.”

  Brian handed Travis the paperwork just as Missy came out of the house with the kennel. The two men walked over to the bull’s pen.

  Missy smiled, her knowing gaze going from AJ to Travis. “You look right at home with that baby in your arms. Do you two have any children?”

  “Oh, no. No children. Travis and I aren’t married. We’re friends.”

  “Have you told him that?”

  AJ glanced over at Travis. “What do you mean?”

  “He keeps looking at you like he’s afraid he’ll lose you.”

  “Travis?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Well, I have been known to wander off,” AJ joked.

  “Not anymore you won’t,” Missy said. “He’s got his eye on you.”

  AJ blinked and pondered Missy’s words while they packed up the truck and trailer.

  “That was fun,” Travis said as they waved goodbye to Missy and Brian and then drove along the long ranch drive.

  “It was. And I have dog,” she said, excitement bubbling over. She glanced over her shoulder at the back seat where the pup slept in the kennel.

  “AJ, you’re something else.”

  “I am?”

  “Yeah. You’re real. Genuine. You know?”

  “I don’t know anything else to be.”

  “Good. Never change.” He smiled. “Though we’re going to have to do something about your whole dream problem.”

  “I don’t have any problems,” she said with a laugh. “Now what shall we name the pup?”

  “How about Oscar?”

  “No. I’ll think of a green puppet in a trashcan if we call him Oscar.”

  “Spot?”

  “You’re not trying,” AJ said. “What kind of name is that for a cow dog?”

  “If you want a proper name for a ranch dog, we’ll call him Ranger. After the Lone Ranger.”

  “Ranger.” AJ smiled and tried the name a few times. “Yes. I like that. Ranger,” she called. The pup lifted his head and barked.

  “He likes it, too,” Travis said.

  AJ was quiet for a moment. “The ranch dog I grew up with was my father’s. He slept in the barn. I’ve never actually had my own dog.”

  “You’ve got this one. All Ranger needs is food and water and love.”

  “I can do that.”

  “I know you can.” He reached out and covered her hand with his.

  A sigh slipped from her lips as they passed the next mile marker.

  “What was that big sigh for?” Travis asked.

  “Today was really nice.”

  “Yeah, it was.” He gently squeezed her fingers before putting his hand back on the steering wheel.

  AJ peeked at his profile as he drove. Travis Maxwell was a good man. Prideful and stuck in his ways, but a good man. And in truth, he was the biggest part of what made today so very special.

  How many good days would there be before it was time to leave? She didn’t know, but one thing was certain: this time leaving would be different than all the other times. This time it just might break her heart.

  Chapter Nine

  When the door to his office opened, the aroma of something delicious wafted to Travis. He wheeled around in his desk chair in time to see Ranger trot in, followed by AJ. She kicked the door shut with her boot and placed the pie she held in her hands with a dishtowel on the corner of the desk.

  “I figured it could finish cooling here. If I leave it at the bunkhouse you’ll never see a slice. This is my second batch. Dutch stopped by when the first one came out of the oven and that was the end of that. Not even a crumb of evidence left.”

  When she smiled his gaze moved to her mouth. He’d lost a considerable amount of sleep last night thinking about a fleeting kiss he’d impulsively placed on those lips.

  “Travis, are you there?”

  “What? Oh, yeah. Sorry.” He examined the golden-brown lattice that covered a mile-high layer of fresh blackberries. The deep purple juices oozed around the edges, glistening against the crust. “A blackberry pie, for me?”

  “I told you I can bake pies.”

  “You certainly did.”

  She put her hands on her hips. “You didn’t believe me, did you?”

  “I am cynical by nature. Nothing to do with you.”

  “Why are you cynical, Travis?”

  “You probably don’t want to know.”

  “I do,” she murmured. “You’ve listened to my tale of woe.”

  “You never told me a tale of woe.”

  “Sure I did. My background would make a four-part miniseries drama.”

  He laughed. “Not quite that much drama. Although your stepbrother could be a movie of the week.”

  “So tell me what makes you a self-proclaimed cynic.”

  “Foster care does that to you. Broken promises and then they shuffle you around like a game piece and every time you move you leave a little bit of yourself behind.” He shrugged. “Which makes me wary and certain most folks are lying.”

  “I wish I could tell you that you’re wrong, however if there was an organizational meeting of Cynics Anonymous and they needed a president, I’d fight you for the title.”

  “Great.” He laughed. “We’re a sad pair, aren’t we?”

  “That depends on how you look at the situation.” She leaned over to see the paperwork spread out on his desk. “What are you doing anyhow?”

  “Well, um, I...”

  “You know I’ve already filed all the grant application paperwork, right? It’s a done deal.”

  “I know. I’m verifying everything.”

  “You’re checking my work?” Her eyes rounded. “After all these weeks, all my work... You don’t trust me to do the job correctly?”

  He sensed the cold chill of tension between them as she moved toward the door.

  “No. Please, AJ. I apologize.”

  She stood very still, her back straight. Finally she turned around.

  “I trust you. It’s me I’m having issues with.”

  “You need to turn it over to the Lord, Travis. Your value isn’t measured by whether or not this grant comes in. Just like it isn’t measured by your face on a magazine cover.”

  He nodded at the truth of her words.

  “What’s it going to be? Paperwork or pie? I can take it back home.” She stepped toward the pie.

  “No way. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve had homemade pie? Homemade anything?” With his arm, he swept the paperwork on his desk aside and slid the pie right in front of him. “I’m officially forgetting about the grant. Leave this pie here. I’ll keep an eye on it right in front of me.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Very sure.”

  “I would have thought your sisters kept you knee-deep in home-cooked meals. And then there’s the Travis Maxwell Ladies Swoon Society. Don’t they cook for you?”

  “There’s a reason the Big Heart Ranch gate has a security badge entrance. I mean besides protecting the kids.” Travis shook his head. “As for my sisters, if I give them permission to drop off cooking then they assume that gives them free range into my life. I’d rather starve.” He chuckled. “Generally, I do, unless I stay in the bunkhouse.
Tripp can cook.”

  “Tripp? Really? What does he cook?”

  “Anything. Everything. And when I say he can cook, I mean he’s like a chef or something. He has a huge cookbook held together by rubber bands and he has his own set of knives. Keeps them with his Bible.”

  AJ frowned. “I’m trying to wrap my head around that.”

  “Wait until Thanksgiving. You’ll see.”

  “Thanksgiving is a long way off. I might compare pie recipes with him now.”

  “He might talk recipes with you. Tripp says you’re okay and, from the horse whisperer, that’s high praise.”

  “He said that?”

  “AJ, come on, everyone likes you.”

  Flustered, she nearly dropped the towel in her hands. “I had no idea.”

  Travis broke off a piece of lattice from the top of the pie and popped it into his mouth. The pastry tasted like a television commercial. Light and flaky. “How is it you can bake like Betty Crocker and rope steer like John Wayne?”

  AJ smiled at his words. “I attribute that to the fact that my father thought I was his son and my mother was determined I was her daughter.”

  “Leaving you with the best of both worlds.”

  “Finally someone who gets it. I get tired of explaining my many facets.”

  “I like your facets.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “First thing I noticed about you.” He pointed a finger in gesture. “Way back in your interview. You went toe-to-toe with me with bison and agriculture stats. You’re an amazing woman.”

  A woman he could love. The thought crossed his mind before he had a chance to stuff it back from whatever hidey-hole it had come from.

  “Are you being serious?” AJ rolled the towel in her hands into a ball and tossed it at him.

  “What? I’m totally serious.” When he pulled the towel off his head and threw it back, Ranger barked and jumped in the air in attempt to grab the cloth.

  “How’s your puppy doing?” Travis asked. “Have you got him herding yet?”

  “It’s been a week. I talked to the vet. Since we don’t have an older dog to train him, he suggests obedience school.”

  “Sounds like a good idea.”

  “The local American Kennel Club in Bartlesville has herding classes, too.” She sighed. “I can try to fit that in my schedule. Somehow.”

  “Or you can let Ranger be his cute self. He doesn’t have to herd, you know. He could be a dog. No multitasking.”

  She raised a brow, obviously recalling their conversation in Bartlesville. “That option is becoming more and more attractive.”

  Travis broke off another piece of crust. “It’s cool enough to eat now.”

  AJ chuckled. “You held out longer than Dutch did.” She pulled paper plates, forks and cutting utensils from the tote she’d hung over her shoulder.

  “What else do you have in there?”

  “Vanilla bean ice cream.”

  “There you go, Ranger. Your momma knows how to serve pie,” Travis hollered, setting Ranger off into a frenzy of barking and racing around the room.

  She cut the pie and scooped up ice cream, then slid his plate in front of him.

  “Lucy updated the Big Heart Ranch web page?” she asked, glancing over his shoulder at the laptop.

  He looked up from the pie. “Yeah, and she put a video of you on the blog.”

  “Me?”

  “From the rodeo.”

  AJ leaned closer in an effort to see the screen. “Show me.”

  He dragged his fingers across the touch pad and started the video. The rodeo announcer’s booming voice introduced AJ before she and Bess galloped onto the screen.

  Travis’s eyes shifted again to his assistant foreman. He stared, mesmerized by her lips moving slowly into a secret smile of delight as she watched the video. It pleased her to no end that she’d won the event, though AJ would never admit to such vanity.

  “Oh, that’s actually sort of cool,” she murmured with a chuckle.

  When she turned her head and realized her lips were mere inches from him, she froze. He could feel her warm breath on his face and didn’t dare move.

  AJ swallowed as their eyes locked. Her blue eyes were wide with surprise.

  Ever so slowly, Travis lifted a finger and traced her mouth, recalling once again the sweetness of the first time his lips touched hers.

  She shivered and blinked as if coming out of a trance before she inched away. “More pie?”

  “Haven’t had a chance to touch this one yet.”

  “Oh, right. Right.” Her face pinked. “I’ll leave this on the counter and you can take it home with you.”

  “AJ,” he said.

  She turned, brows raised in question.

  “Do you ever wonder? I mean, if you hadn’t hired on at Big Heart Ranch and if we’d met, say, in town... Do you ever wonder...?”

  “No. Never.”

  He didn’t believe her for a minute.

  “I don’t dwell on maybes, Travis. I’ve found it’s best to keep my hope in tomorrows, not yesterdays.”

  “Sounds to me like you’ve given it a lot of thought.”

  “No. Not at all.” She gave an adamant shake of her head, causing her blond ponytail to sway back and forth.

  The door burst open and Dutch stood on the threshold. His gaze went straight to the pie. He rolled his head and groaned as if in pain. “You got your own pie?”

  “Yeah. I’m the boss. What of it?” Travis asked as he raised a fork to his mouth.

  “Must be nice.”

  “Oh, it is,” he returned around a mouthful. “Real nice.”

  “You ate almost all of the other one,” AJ reminded Dutch.

  “Not the same thing. I had to swipe it when you weren’t looking. It wasn’t baked with me in mind.” He frowned and turned back to Travis. “Travis got one special, just for him.”

  “Mmm. Mmm.” Travis smiled as he chewed.

  “Boss,” Dutch said, emphasizing the word. “We’re ready to separate those mommas from the calves.”

  “Fence-line weaning?” AJ asked.

  “Nah,” Dutch said. “We just separate them so they can’t see each other. We’ll put them in different pastures.”

  She turned to Travis. “You’ve read the studies out of UC Davis?”

  Travis gave a tortured sigh and raised his hand to stop her. “I’ve read it. You want to try fence weaning.”

  “I do.”

  “Portable fencing?” Travis asked.

  She nodded. “We’ve got everything we need. Well-maintained fences and plenty of water supply. And you know—”

  He held up a hand yet again. “Did you memorize the entire textbook?”

  “I have a good memory.”

  “That’s what I was afraid of. Okay, we can give fence-line weaning a try.”

  “Thank you!”

  “I’m willing to try anything that causes less stress for them and means I don’t have to listen to bawling all night.”

  “I have my spreadsheets. I can prove it works.”

  “I’ll bet you can, but it’s not necessary.” He looked to Dutch. “We’ll move the herd to the pasture nearer the barn, so we can keep a close eye on them. Add some extra feed to the area and double up on the water supply.”

  “When?”

  “Right after I finish my pie.”

  “I could use some pie before we get started,” Dutch said. He raised his eyes hopefully.

  “No way. That’s my pie,” Travis said.

  The old cowboy grumbled under his breath as he reached for the doorknob.

  “Thanks for giving my ideas a chance,” AJ said.

  He nodded. “I won’t lie. I’m functioning under the influence of blackberry pie. Your good cooking
may have unduly swayed my decision.”

  AJ grabbed the rest of the pie. “Have some more.”

  Travis grinned. There were some days when being the boss was particularly satisfying. This was definitely one of those days. On the other hand, being the boss meant AJ wouldn’t consider dating him and that was a downright shame because remembering the brief kiss they’d shared was messing with his REM. It was a vicious cycle of interrupted sleep that he was going to have to deal with eventually.

  * * *

  Tongue out and tail wagging, Ranger jumped over AJ’s boots and raced down the steps of the bunkhouse porch to meet Rue Butterfield. The general put down the paper bag in her arms and got to her knees to pet the enthusiastic pup. Dog and woman were silhouetted against a darkening June sky.

  “This dog is just precious, AJ,” she called.

  “He’s a charmer, all right. I’ve considered changing his name to Travis Jr.” She shook her head. “Don’t tell him I said that.”

  Rue laughed as she walked to the porch and placed the grocery store sack at AJ’s feet.

  AJ peeked inside. “Okra!”

  “Yes. My garden runneth over.”

  “This is wonderful. I am all-in for any kind of okra. Pickled, fried, breaded and raw.”

  “That’s good to hear as there is much more where this came from, I’m afraid.” She offered a wry smile. “Oh, that my tomatoes were in such abundance.”

  “I just heard that Tripp is a chef,” AJ said.

  Rue nodded. “Something like that. No one has ever gotten the full story out of him. Tripp has his secrets.” She pulled a red envelope out of her purse and offered it to AJ.

  “More surprises. What’s this?” She put her coffee cup down to slide a finger beneath the gummed flap of the envelope.

  “Lucy asked me to give this to you. She always holds a small party for the Big Heart Ranch staff right before the start of summer. She calls it value-based management.”

  “We studied that in one of my business classes. It’s a fancy word for bribing the staff, right?”

  “Exactly.”

  AJ chuckled.

  “Staff appreciation before the long six weeks begins. Lucy and Travis and Emma pass out the logo T-shirts we all wear each summer and there’s always a nice little bonus in our gift bags. Think of it as Christmas in July. The party is held around July first each year.”