Road to Glory (14 page)

A soft chuckle broke through his lips. He reached out and touched her chin and kissed her once again. This time when the kiss broke, Glory laid her head on his chest. Travis rested his chin on the top of her head. “So why did you want to raise bulls?”

He felt the shrug of her shoulders. “I have to admit, I love watching them. There’s something so regal about them. The way they hold their heads. That look they give you when sizing you up.”

“Yeah, I know about that look.” He groaned. “Got the scars to prove it.”

Glory laughed. “I bet you do.” She turned in his arms and braced her back against him, then sighed. “I guess lots of people are drawn to different phases of the rodeo. Some like the horses, some watch the roping, me—I just prefer bulls.”

“It’s usually a man’s world.”

He felt her nod. “But rules were made to be broken. Look at all the women running ranches now, and in corporate headquarters. Why not breeding bulls?”

“Their size, for one,” he countered.

He heard Glory take a deep breath to say something, but just then the beam of a car’s headlights illuminated the ground around them.

“I guess that’s Alma coming home,” she murmured.

To Travis’ dismay, she pulled away and let the chill of the air fill her spot. “Let me fix my shirt,” he murmured. As he pulled the edges of the material together and affixed the snaps, he noted she didn’t move away. Her hand remained on his arm until he was ready to go.

“Presentable?” she asked.

“Yeah.” He smoothed his hair back away from his face. “I’d hate for others to think you took advantage of me.”

Glory laughed softly and took hold of his hand. Their fingers intertwined, they made their way over to where the two-door sedan had stopped.

“Evening, Glory, Mr. Hargrove,” Alma murmured, straightening up with a brown paper bag by her side. “Enjoying the moonlight?”

Was he wrong? Did Alma have a twinkle in her eye? Ignoring his thoughts, he stepped forward. “Let me get that for you. It looks heavy.”

Stepping to her side, he took the paper bag. Across the car, the driver’s side door opened and a tall, slender, dark-haired woman emerged.

“Thank you.” The housekeeper smiled. “I think the battery is dead in the truck. Luckily, Angel was on her way to the Hitching Post and offered me a ride.”

“It was no trouble, Alma, none at all,” she purred.

“Come on in. I got a cake you can take to your daddy.”

Travis glanced over to Glory, who hadn’t spoken a single word. The expression on her face had turned blank. He opened his mouth to ask her what was wrong, but she hurried forward and grabbed the screen door.

“Let me get that for you,” she said.

Behind him, the door to the sedan closed and another bag rattled. Travis stepped aside and allowed the other woman to pass. He caught the sway of her jet black hair brushing the top of her denim shorts as she moved into the kitchen. His boots scraped on the step. He looked over at Glory and saw the hurt in her eyes before she glanced at her feet.

“Come in before the bugs fill the house,” Alma called out.

Fearing her scolding, Travis hurried inside.

****

Glory followed them inside. Of all people, she hadn’t planned on running into Angel. She slowed her steps and hung back for a second, to listen to them talk.

“Just put the bags on the counter,” Alma ordered, plopping her purse down on the countertop. “Angel, you got the frozen food. Let’s get them put away quick.”

“Sure,” the woman answered.

Glory caught Alma’s confused glance. “Glory, where’s your manners? You can introduce Angel to our boarder.”

Swallowing her pride, Glory hurried to Travis’ side and began to take the groceries from the bag. “Angel, Travis Hargrove. Travis Hargrove, Angelica Davis,” she said quickly.

Travis stilled. She heard him turn. Her head down, Glory caught his movement as he leaned behind her to extend his hand. “Oh, you’re Mickey’s little girl.”

Angel gave a deep throaty chuckle. “So you’re the great Travis Hargrove Glory’s always talking about.”

Glory cut her eyes to the left so she could send Angel a look that would hush her up. Instead, she watched a bemused grin tickle Angel’s lips. Her hand clenched on the can before her.

“I believe I saw you at Powder Springs.”

Glory’s eyes closed, and heat spiraled up her neck.

“Outside the arena?” Angel said.

“Oh.” Travis grew still.

“I just got back from the rodeo and heard Daddy mention you were coming to help with the young bloods down at the Hitching Post. I guess I just didn’t expect…” She let the sentence hang.

“Ma’am?”

Glory opened her eyes and fumed as she watched Angel slide her lashes toward her cheek.
Flirting, damn her time
.

“I just didn’t expect you to be so handsome,” Angel whispered.

Glory’s fingers tried to dig into the tin sides of the can of beans. It was happening again, just like with Jax. Spying another large can on the counter, she pulled it into her arms and turned. “Here.” She shoved the can into Travis’ chest. “Help me put these in the pantry.”

He pivoted as she grabbed the bag holding the rest of the cans and marched toward the room at the back end of the kitchen. Over her shoulder she called out, “If you’ll excuse us, we’ve got groceries to put away, and I don’t want you to be late for work. Heaven help Connie if she doesn’t have someone behind the bar to pour beer.”

Moving past Angel, Glory caught her blink of confusion, but, refusing to say another word, she walked on by, head held high, and moved past Alma’s arched brow before disappearing into the pantry. Heart racing, she moved into the shadows and put the bag on the nearest shelf. The thunder of her beating heart nearly drowned out Travis’ next words. She held her breath and listened.

“It was nice to meet you, Angela. I guess I’d best put this away and earn my keep.”

“Call me Angel.” Her voice dropped a bit lower and grew sultry. “I have a feeling we’ll be seeing a lot of each other now that I’m back at work.”

Glory let out a harsh breath and ground her teeth together.

“Sure, no problem,” Travis replied.

“I’ll see you around.” She heard Angel move toward the door. “Oh, tell Glory it was good to see her again. Maybe next time we can get together for drinks.” In the shadows, Glory repeated the words to herself in a mimic and shook her head. “Drinks” with Angel led to the horizontal mambo. Jax had gone down to the Hitching Post to have a beer with her, and look where that ended. She stared into the shelves and, just to give herself something to do, began to take the cans out of the bag. Her mind roiling with possibilities, she failed to hear Travis come in behind her.

“Glory?”

At the sound of her name, she turned in surprise. Her hand flew to her chest to calm her wildly beating heart. “You scared me.”

“Where do you want these beans?” Travis asked.

“That shelf.” She pointed to the one next to hers.

Side by side, they began to place the cans on the shelves. She felt all thumbs standing beside him. How stupid she’d been, pushing the beans into his arms. He must think she was laying claim to him. Glory bit her bottom lip. She needed to apologize.

“Travis, I—”

“Glory, can I ask—”

They paused, looking at one another. Travis smiled. “Go ahead, ladies first.”

She gave a nod of her head and glanced down at her boots. “I should apologize for shoving the beans at you like that.”

“Yeah, you probably should.”

Her head snapped up, and she searched his face for anger. “Okay, I apologize.”

His brow arched. “That’s your attempt at asking my forgiveness?”

“Asking?” she sputtered.

“Sure.” Travis went back to the cans of food, turning them on the shelf. “I mean, you were jealous, right?”

“J-Jealous!” she stammered. “Just who do you think you are?”

Travis turned and pulled her to him. Glory stilled. He looked down at her lips, and she knew he was going to kiss her again. “I’m the man you’ve been kissing, and in comes another woman?” The corner of his mouth lifted in amusement. “And those blue eyes of yours turned green.” He tilted his head and studied her.

Unable to stop herself, Glory lifted her hand from his chest and gently laid a finger against one side of the simple bracket his expression formed by his lips. At her touch, his eyes turned molten. Glory could feel the swell of her breasts rising to meet him. His hand pushed her tighter against him and she felt his need rise to meet her own heated center.

“I think I like it.” She heard him murmur just before his lips descended upon hers.

Her toes curled inside her boots, and her hand moved behind his head. Glory threaded her fingers in the thick locks of his sandy brown hair and held him just as tight.

“Glory, you finished putting them gro—” Alma called out. “Oh!”

The kiss broke as they heard Alma’s feet hurrying away. Glory felt her lungs heave to gather enough air as heat filled her face. She glanced down, afraid to meet Travis’ questioning probe of her face. “I, um…” She cleared her throat. “I’d best get back out there and, hum, help Alma.” With regret, she pulled from his arms and, with one last shy glance, left the pantry.

****

Glory pulled the brush through her hair and gathered the shoulder-length blonde locks into a ponytail, fastening it with a covered rubber band.
Of all days to be late!
She swore under her breath. Worse, she couldn’t use the true reason. After a smoldering kiss by the corral, not to mention the one in the pantry after Angel left, both of which had her almost regretting she hadn’t offered him the use of her bedroom, she’d dreamed of nothing more than his kisses all night long. She glanced at her reflection in the mirror and wondered if anyone would notice the gleam in her eyes.

Turning away from the mirror, she stuffed her feet into her boots and hurried down the stairs to pick up her clipboard from her father’s office. She had been late for breakfast and Alma had given her the evil look but said nothing, which surprised her, since Alma had caught them in a clinch. Still, Glory made sure to keep her head down, studying the food on her plate.

All thoughts of the vet coming never entered her mind until the sound of his truck horn reminded her. Grasping the board on the desk, she flipped through the pages, making sure she had all the information on the cattle before tucking a mechanical pencil beneath the clamp on the board. She snatched her hat and hurried out, headed down to the corral where the men were waiting. It was probably a very good thing Travis had gone in with Alma this morning to get a new battery and bring the truck home. He wouldn’t have to be out here with the cattle.

Already the sun was beating down, sucking the moisture from the ground. Glory took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of cow, dung, and dirt. She knew it wouldn’t take long in this heat for the cattle to become as malcontented as the men; they needed to get this process completed before noon. Walking faster, she could see a group of men standing around the doc’s pickup and two riders in the corral ready to go.

“Morning,” she called out.

The men turned as she walked up and held her hand out to the vet. Doc Greene grasped it and they shook.

“Morning, Glory, I got here a few minutes early. Hope you don’t mind?”

Bless him for covering for her. “No, not at all. I had a few errands that made me late,” she said. Glancing across to Mickey’s face, she saw him tip his hat up from behind to cover his eyes, a sure sign he was laughing at her. She pretended not to notice and glanced down at her clipboard. “What do you want to do first? Bulls or steers?”

“Considering it’s pretty warm already, why don’t we get the big boys out of the way first.”

“Sounds like a plan.” She nodded. “Hey, Hank, let’s get Devil’s Spawn, Troubadour, and Card Shark into the pen.”

The cowboy on horseback dipped his head and whirled his mount around, jogging toward the cattle milling in the next enclosure.

“All right, men, we’re wasting daylight,” Glory said, and with a chorus of groans the cowboys moved to their stations on the head gate and in the chutes.

Like clockwork, the riders herded the bulls one by one into the alleyway, while the cowboys on foot opened and shut gates, moving the animals down the winding maze toward the head gate. There a quick slap or a zap of the cattle prod would push them into the last chute, where a metal gate would close around their necks to keep them immobile for the vet to step in with the inoculations. Glory watched from the top rail, what the cowboys called the opry seat, jotting down the information and recording the date on her records, which Doc Greene would sign later. A loud bang and the shouts of the cowboys made her look up. The last bull had slammed his massive head in protest against the metal rails placed to narrow the pen.

“Great,” she muttered under her breath. Less than two hours and it was going downhill already. “Take over, Jake. I’ll go help Mickey,” she grumbled. Handing over her clipboard, she unhitched her boot from the rail and hopped down, hurrying toward the bellowing bull.

“What’s the problem?” she called over the fracas of the bull pushing and shoving against the rail as Mickey struggled to get him back under control.

“Danged if I know,” he gasped. Reaching a gloved hand in, he pushed at the animal. “Steady, you heap of hamburger.” His words seemed to enrage the animal further. This time the bull shoved back against the rail and let out a bellow that vibrated the air around them. Foaming, he slung his head back and forth, sending spit across the enclosure and all over Mickey and Glory.

The wrangler beside her reached in with the cattle prod and gave the animal a zap.

“Don’t!” Glory cried out and shoved him away with her shoulder as the bull leaped against the metal bars. “Open the other lock!” she cried frantically as the side rails began to rattle and move. “Get ’im out of here!” She pushed the other wrangler out and tried to move the bar that held the gate tight, without taking her eyes off the lunging animal.

Two thousand pounds of angry bull were no match for the temporary metal posts. She heard the whine of bars as they seesawed against the post of the gate. Out of alignment, the gate jammed. The bull, sensing he was about to be free, let out one more long blast of his displeasure and then rammed through the glimmer of an opening. The metal had no choice but to give way.