Road to Glory (13 page)

Once dressed, she made her way downstairs and rummaged through the fridge, pulling out some leftovers for supper, settling on a quick sandwich and salad. After a brief dousing of Italian dressing on her salad, she crossed to the table. A cool breeze lifted the yellow curtains over the sink and brought in the sound of a truck rolling across the gravel, stopping at the little house they called the mansion. Travis was home.

As Glory chewed on her meal, her thoughts moved across the yard to the cowboy eating alone.
What did Mickey say earlier? Let him latch on to me and see where the ride ends?
The food in her mouth turned to sawdust. Letting him latch on meant she’d have to give up part of her heart. She glanced down at the glass of ice water and watched a bead of condensation roll down the glass. Just like her heart, she mused. Jax Martin had left her cold, afraid to try again. Yet she had to admit there was something about Travis that pulled at her heartstrings no matter how she wanted to ignore it.

****

Parked in front of the barn, he sat in the cab of the rental truck he’d gotten that morning and listened to the sounds of the crickets while his emotions washed over him. One step closer, he told himself, one step closer to having to face his ultimate fear. He tucked his chin toward his chest and placed his forearms on the wheel and leaned against them. Bone tired, Travis had survived another long hot day by dreaming about coming back to the Glory B. Here, he wasn’t a broken-down bull rider; no one stared at him wondering what scars his clothing hid.

Without thinking, he let his left hand move over his shirt and he felt the ridge line of his scar, and the bitter taste of his failure came to mind. Today, perched on the top rung of a corral, he’d watched the wranglers move the bulls through the twisting gates and struggled to keep the urge to run from overtaking him. Still the dust they kicked up brought those vivid memories from his accident. Their images slithered out, threatening to disrupt his life. He had to get past it if he planned to ever ride again. Perhaps he should call his sister Emma again, just to touch base. But deep down he knew he wouldn’t. Man-pride always won out over common sense. A harsh chuckle escaped his lips.

Travis raised his chin slowly and stared off into the gathering dusk, watching the dark shapes of the cattle materialize in the distance. Driving back through town, he’d caught sight of the poster fluttering on the telephone pole, announcing the rodeo. Tomorrow he and Mickey would continue working with the kids, showing them the ropes down at the Hitching Post. If he failed to get this terror behind him, then there’d be no future.
Why did I agree to this?
The question brought up no quick answer.

His tongue darted out to wet his dry lips. He thought about the words the doctor had said as he made ready to leave the rehabilitation center. He’d encouraged him to continue to talk, to get things out in the open, not to cover them up and allow them to fester. Six weeks of trying and he had yet to stand next to the beasts. He swallowed the lump in his throat and stared at the steering wheel. Like it or not, he had to get over it.

Pushing the truck door open, Travis swung his legs out and stepped out onto the gravel. His gaze moved immediately to the main house. A light shone through the kitchen window, telling him either Glory or Alma was home, or both. In the distance, he could hear the movement of cattle. Their gentle moos told him they’d begun to circle and get ready to bed down for the night. Perhaps in the quiet, with no one around, he could manage another small step. He swung the door closed and began to move toward the south pasture.

The sound of his feet on the gravel reminded him of Gary Cooper in
High Noon
. Just like that fictional sheriff, he had a sense of marching to meet his nemesis. He paused a few feet shy of the wooden corral. In the distance, he could see the dark shapes of the beasts, and he swallowed the lump in his throat. A breeze whispered through the trees, and behind him, in the distance, a screen door slammed. He licked his dry lips again and made a cautious glance over his shoulder. He wanted to do this alone. He didn’t want anyone to see what a fool he’d become, especially Glory.

A head lifted and looked over at him from beyond the wooden railing. He heard the deep snort as the animal caught his scent, and he wondered if they could also smell his fear.

He took a step to the rail, then waited, half expecting the animal to charge at the fence. Instead, the cattle seemed as curious about his interest as he was about theirs.
Just step up to the fence,
common sense told him. Yet his feet seemed rooted to the ground.

Behind him a twig snapped. Travis’ heart thumped to a stop, and he jerked his head to the left and saw her.

“Evening,” Glory said.

She stood across from him at the edge of the lawn. Her hair was still damp from a shower, and the smell of fresh lemons drifted over in the breeze. Travis slid his hands into the pockets of his jeans and said nothing. If she thought it strange, she didn’t let on. Instead, she took a deep breath before speaking. “I love this time of night, don’t you?”

He glanced at the ground, then back to her, but she seemed to study the sky. “It’s nice,” he replied.

“Looks like you’re taking a walk. Mind if I join you?”

Travis shrugged. “Free country.”

“That it is.” She nodded and fell in step beside him.

Their slow but steady pace gave Travis time to study the woman now at his side. Her movements were fluid. Born to the land, she seemed part of it, in harmony with it. Unlike most women, who used their beauty as a weapon to wage a battle for his attention, Glory appeared oblivious to her power. She oozed confidence, and a part of him couldn’t help but feel jealous. In a pair of jeans and a cotton short-sleeved shirt she outrivaled most of the models he’d worked with on those jeans ads. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched her slide both hands into the back pockets of her jeans as they came to a halt.

Forgetting his fear of the beast beyond the rail, he stepped closer to her, allowing her elbow to brush his shirt. His skin seemed to pick up the pulse of her heartbeat and, without thinking how she’d managed it, they leaned against the rail. He waited as she placed a boot on the bottom, then folded her arms across the top of the rail to lean her chin against her skin.

“I love this time of night when everything seems so peaceful. The heat of the day is gone, and all your troubles seem so silly.” Her voice came in a soft whisper almost as calm as the breeze that lifted the edges of her blonde hair from her shoulders. She tilted her head and smiled up at him.

Travis could have sworn someone sent a hand crashing into his middle. He held his breath, wondering if he could remember how to breathe. After what seemed like a lifetime, he blinked, realizing he was staring like a trout lured to the edge of the stream by a light. He was thankful the darkness covered his actions; otherwise he might be embarrassed to be caught gawking. “Yeah,” he agreed. “Something like that.”

God, were all his conversations with her going to be reduced to trivial one-liners?
His need to be beside this beauty overcame the fear of the beasts beyond the rail. Travis stepped closer and searched his mind for something intelligent to say. “You come out here often?”

The moonlight danced in her eyes.
Crap, she's laughing at me.
Of course she comes out here often; this is her ranch
. He could hear his father’s voice echo,
Dunderhead
.

“Not as often as I’d like.” She turned and gazed across the landscape. “I used to come out here with my dad. He always said it was so peaceful that all your troubles would melt away.” He heard her sigh. “I think he’s right. Out here, this time of night, worrying about bills, bulls, and other things seems so silly. Look at it, Travis, just look.”

Tearing his gaze away from her, he stared at the horizon. The moonlight cast everything in soft silver light. No harshness of the day. Everything was innocent, just like the woman at his side. He looked at the steer standing closest to them. It seemed so docile.

“Go ahead,” her soothing voice whispered. “Hold out your hand.”

As though hypnotized by her voice, he followed her command.

“Now just wait,” she said.

He stood feeling a bit detached, as if he were watching someone else. The animal turned his head, smelling Travis’ scent on the wind.

“He’ll flick his ears,” Glory continued the monologue. As if on cue, the animal responded to the command of her words.

He could hear the sound of her lips part and somehow, deep down, he knew Glory smiled.

“Watch, he’ll send his tongue out to lick the air.”

Travis stared as the bull did just that.

“Now, since there is no danger, he’ll walk over.”

Taking small steps at first, the animal approached. He stretched his neck out and blew, just to see if Travis would jump. His hand twitched, yet Travis held firm.

“Steady,” Glory encouraged him.

He felt the rough brush of the tongue along his fingers.

“He’s looking for a carrot,” Glory murmured. He heard her move closer to him. Her hand moved alongside his and placed a carrot on his fingers.

The animal sniffed again; this time when he sent his tongue out he pulled the treat into his mouth.

“See, easy,” she said. “They’re just like us. They have a job to do. When they’re in the ring, they are there to perform, just like you.”

Travis pulled his hand back and stared. All the therapy and all the doctors had not done what this woman had just managed to accomplish in the space of twenty minutes. He turned toward her. The look of adoration on her face sent him spinning out of control. His arms encircled her and pulled her flush with his body. Glory did not resist. Instead, her hands moved up to his chest as she stared into his eyes. “What are you doing to me?” he wondered aloud.

“Don’t just stand there, Travis. Kiss me.”

Chapter Ten

Her eyes closed as he accepted the invitation. Their lips met and nothing else seemed to matter. Soft, pliant, her lips molded to his as he brushed over them in a gentle kiss. As he nibbled across the width of her mouth, her fingers moved across his shirt, scorching the skin beneath. Travis held his breath and waited. Her fingers paused at the scar. However, instead of backing away, Glory continued, stopping long enough at his heart to place her palm flat against his chest, and he felt hers beating with the same measure. Slowly her hands moved on until her arms encircled his neck. Travis was lost in the feel of her supple body. A soft moan rose from her throat, and he grasped her tighter in fear she might pull away.

To his surprise, Glory relaxed her knees and leaned against him, using his body as support. Buoyed by her courage, he traced the line of her jaw with small nips, to the sensitive point below her left ear. His ears filled with the sound of her ragged breath as he swirled his tongue against the wild throb of the vein.

“Travis.”

His name on her lips was like a prayer as he captured her mouth once more. This time, he teased it open and sent his tongue to capture the sweetness within. Her hands slid to the collar of his shirt, grasping the fullness of the cloth and hanging on as their mouths danced a fiery tango.

His blood heated a degree higher as her fingers tugged against the snaps of his shirt, popping them open. Now it proved his turn to sigh as her fingers moved against his skin in swirling feathery touches. Their kisses grew hungrier. His fingers tugged at the tail of her shirt, releasing it from the waistband of her jeans, and he encircled her warm skin.

His lungs ached for air, yet he didn’t wish to give up the ground he’d taken. He could feel her need for air as her breasts rose against her shirt and created a delightful friction against his skin. He wanted her. The realization slammed into him with the same force as the kick of a Brahma bull. But not here. Not out in the open, like this. With deep regret, Travis pulled his lips away and, resting his forehead against hers, stared into her face.

Her glance flicked over him. He could see a bit of doubt fill the deep pools of sapphire blue. Lifting his right hand from her waist, he brushed back a wisp of hair from against her cheek. “You’re so beautiful.”

The edges of her lips curled in response.

“But to take you here, now”—he sighed with regret—“would be all shades of wrong.”

He felt Glory pull away. His gaze searched her frozen expression. Fearing this conversation might end in yet another misunderstanding, Travis hastened his statement, hoping to explain. “I don’t know where my life is leading, Glory. I can’t promise any more than to say I’ll be here come morning. You can’t build forever on such as this.”

She stood poised before him. He swallowed the lump in his throat and waited for her rejection.
Please, God, let me have said it right this time,
he prayed.

“You’ve got a lot on your shoulders, there, cowboy,” she whispered.

He closed his eyes, knowing her dismissal was at hand. The once-warm hand placed against his heart moved away. Travis ached to reach out and pull it back into place. Then something soft, gentle, womanlike touched his cheek. He opened his eyes and stared into the eyes of this cowgirl goddess as her fingers stroked his cheek.

“Sometimes it happens. Sometimes even a cowboy has to pull back and take a different trail. But I’m here for you. I won’t run.”

Listening to her words, he swallowed the lump of emotions now wedged in his throat.

“You came here to find something, Travis Hargrove, and I’ll help you find it, if you’ll let me. We’ll make this a partnership, you and I. We’ll take it one step at a time, one day at a time. I’m staking no claim on you.”

He waited for the feeling of dread to fill his soul like it had with so many other women, only this time there was only a sense of peace. “I-I’d like that, Glory.” He turned his head and pressed his lips to her open palm. “Just remember to be gentle. This old bull hasn’t had much practice in the romance department.”

Her smile widened. “That’s okay. I hear it’s a bit like riding a bicycle. Once you learn, you never forget.”