“That would be Josephine’s,” Colt said. “And it’s still there, crooked stovepipe and all.”
Sissy smiled. “That’s what I love about small towns. They never change. It’s like a time capsule that you dig up every time you go home. But instead of things, it’s places that bring back all the happy memories.”
Happy memories? He had never thought of Bramble in that way. But in the last few weeks, more happy memories had surfaced than bad. The taste of good red chili burning its way down your throat and the icy cold of a drugstore chocolate ripple ice cream cone. A rainy afternoon spent inside an old Chevy and the feel of the late afternoon sun on your neck on the way to Sutter Springs.
No, the memories weren’t all bad. And Sissy was right; in a big city, things were constantly changing. Buildings
coming down and more going up. Businesses failing and others taking their place. But in Bramble, things had stayed constant. And there
was
something nice about that.
“I think I told you about growing up in a small town just east of San Antonio,” Travis continued. “Not more than a grease spot on the highway. And I tell you, I couldn’t wait to get out of there and shake the dust of that town off.”
“The dust,” Sissy asked. “Or the girl?”
“Now, honey, I think that we’ve been over this. I was young and stupid.”
“You sure were.”
Travis looked over at Colt and rolled his eyes. “Anyway, the point I was trying to make is that no matter how much money I have or how big my house is, I’ll always be that small-town boy.”
Sissy leaned up and kissed his cheek. “And six grown kids and five grandkids later, I’m still your small-town girl.”
Six? If the thought of one kid left Colt stunned, six with five grandkids was downright mind-boggling. How did a man get six kids? A faulty condom was a start. But six faulty condoms constituted a learning disability.
“I never thought I’d go back to my hometown to live,” Travis continued. “But lately, I’ve been thinking about buying some land there and building a house.”
“You have?” Sissy turned to him. “Why haven’t you said anything?”
“I thought you would think it was stupid. I mean, we have three houses already.”
“Oh, honey.” She leaned her head on his shoulder. “I think it’s a wonderful idea. And with our mamas and
daddy getting older, we can be right there to help out if they need us.”
While they continued the conversation, Colt leaned his head back on the couch and studied the cracking fire. He thought he’d only closed his eyes for a second, but when he opened them, the light had changed in the room, and Travis was the only one there.
As he sat up, Travis lowered the edge of the newspaper that he was reading and looked over at him.
“Sleep well?”
Colt rubbed a hand over his face. “I didn’t mean to sleep at all. What time is it?”
“Around three.” Travis nodded at the coffee table. “I’ve got your check right here. But before you head out, I thought you might want to talk a little.”
Thinking it was about the bike, he said, “I sent you all the specs, and if you have any questions, all you need to do is call me.”
“I’m not talking about the bike, Colt.” He folded the newspaper and set it aside. “I’m talking about what has you strung as tight as a fiddle bow. And don’t give me any bull that nothing’s wrong. The man I’ve talked to on the phone for the last few months is not the same man who blew in here looking like the wrath of God. Hell, you no more than glanced at my collection—talk about a bruised ego.” Travis flashed a grin. “Normally, I wouldn’t push my nose into someone’s business, but I feel like we’ve known each other for years. Not just from the phone conversations and e-mails, but through your designs and our mutual love of bikes.”
Colt ran a hand through his hair. He had felt the same connection, which was one of the reasons that he had
wanted to personally deliver the bike. He had wanted to meet Travis Mossman—to see the man behind the voice. But that was before his life had taken an unexpected curve. Still, the man deserved some kind of an explanation for his sudden wild appearance. And a rough road trip wasn’t going to do it.
Especially when Travis asked, “So who’s Hope?”
“How do you know about Hope?”
“You talk in your sleep. Luckily, the grandkids are outside with Sissy or they would’ve gotten an earful.” Colt actually blushed as Travis continued. “Since I already know you’re not married, I assume she’s a girlfriend.”
What would you call the mother of your child? Girlfriend didn’t seem like enough. Of course, in Hope’s case, it was too much. Except there was nothing else to call her.
“Yes.”
“And you got her in trouble?”
Damn, how much did he talk in his sleep?
Colt blew out his breath and fell back on the couch cushions. “I guess you could say that.”
“So what are you going to do about it?”
“I don’t have a clue.”
“I’ve shoveled enough bullshit in my day to recognize it when I see it. You know what to do, you’re just too afraid to say it out loud. Afraid if you do that someone will hold you to it.”
“If you’re talking about marriage, you can think again.”
Travis leaned over, his forearms on his knees. “I wasn’t talking about marriage, but it’s obvious you’ve been thinking about it.”
Had he? Colt hadn’t thought that he’d been thinking
about anything, but perhaps a part of his brain had been working without his realizing it. An illogical part of his brain. Marriage to Hope was out of the question. They could barely have a conversation without fighting.
“So you don’t have feelings for the girl?” Travis continued his interrogation.
“What do you mean?”
Travis shot him a look that pretty much called him out on the idiotic question. Colt tried to backpedal, except there was no place to backpedal to.
“I… she’s… there is this… Hell, I don’t know.”
The grin on Travis’ face was downright annoying, and the glare Colt sent him must’ve said so, because he quickly held up a hand.
“Believe me, I’m not laughing at you… okay, so maybe I am. But it’s nice to know I’m not the only idiot when it comes to women. I think it must have to do with being born in a small town. With everyone butting into your business, you get it in your head that when you grow up you’d rather go it alone.”
Colt snorted. “I wouldn’t exactly call a wife, six kids, and five grandkids going it alone.”
The grin deepened. “No, I guess you wouldn’t, but before I got married that was exactly what I had convinced myself I wanted to do. I left town and traveled around the country, until I ended up back in Texas working on an oil rig and pretending like I was having the time of my life. And then I ran into the girl I’d left behind. I tried to act like the big shot I wasn’t, but she looked straight through me and called me a liar right to my face. God, how I hated her. It took me a good year of trying to convince myself I didn’t need her before I realized she was exactly what I
needed. Of course, by that time, she’d found somebody else.”
“So the girl wasn’t Sissy?”
“Of course she was. A little thing like a fiancé doesn’t stop a Texan when he’s made up his mind. I begged like a two-year-old in a candy store—a whole lot of tears and a whole bunch of promises to be the best husband she’d ever want. Of course, if she didn’t love me, I guess no amount of begging would’ve gotten her to leave that idiot and marry me.”
Colt had been so wrapped up in the story that he hadn’t realized they’d come full circle. All the way back to marriage.
“I think your situation was a little different than mine. Hope doesn’t love me. And I sure as hell don’t love her.”
Travis glanced behind him before he spoke in a low whisper. “Just between you and me, I didn’t exactly love Sissy either.” When Colt sent him a surprised look, he quickly continued. “To be honest, my head has always been a little behind my heart. I suppose my heart knew, even when we were dating in high school, but my head didn’t realize how much I loved her until about six months into the marriage.”
“So why did you marry her?”
He released his breath. “Because I couldn’t stand the thought of her marrying Michael Beaudine.”
Jealousy was something Colt could identify with. Growing up, he’d been jealous of just about everyone in town. But as an adult, he felt as if he’d conquered the emotion. The image of Slate and Faith’s wedding popped into his mind. Okay, so maybe he hadn’t conquered it. Of course, it wasn’t jealousy that had caused him to
belligerently kiss the bride as much as a bruised ego at the thought that Hope had fled from his bed straight into Slate’s arms. And now he wondered if his ego had been responsible for his sleeping with Hope in the first place: The poor Lomax kid finally gets the homecoming queen.
Except it hadn’t felt like his ego.
It had just felt right.
“Listen,” Colt got to his feet, “I need to be going.”
Travis stood. “Had enough of my advice, have you?” When Colt didn’t reply, he only smiled. “Well, marriage or no marriage, I don’t doubt for a minute that you’ll take care of your own. From the way you talk about your sister, I’d say you’ve had some practice.”
“A little,” Colt hedged. He reached for the check on the table, then pulled his wallet from his pocket and slipped it inside. When he glanced back up, the smile was gone from Travis’s face, replaced with a look that made Colt suddenly wary.
“Listen, Colt,” he said, “I probably don’t have any business bringing this up. Being a business man yourself, you realize how quickly gossip can get out of hand.” He paused as if carefully considering his next words. “But I think you should be aware of the rumors that are going around about Dalton Oil.”
The haze that had settled over Colt’s mind lifted, and he became alert.
“What have you heard?”
Travis released his breath. “That the gulf oil well Lyle invested in didn’t produce, and he’s having a hard time paying back his loans. Companies are already talking about getting their hands on Dalton—companies I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy.” When Colt didn’t
comment, he continued. “Look, I’ve only met Lyle a few times, but he struck me as an honest man. If he decides he needs some investors, I know of a good company that might be interested—C-Corp. And if there’s anything else I can do…”
“I need a ride to the airport.” Colt finally spoke.
With a nod, Travis reached down and picked up a set of keys off the coffee table.
“A man’s got to do what a man’s got to do.”
N
EVER ONE TO
wallow in self-pity for too long, Hope spent the following week on the list of things that needed to be done in town while she clung to the thin thread of hope that pregnancy tests were as faulty as condoms.
The pothole was her first project. It wasn’t hard to talk some of the highway construction guys into stopping by for a free lunch at Josephine’s. Then, while they were filling up on biscuits and gravy, she used a little country charm to convince them to fix the hole at the corner of Maple and Main on their way back to work.
The next day, she lit a fire under Harley and had him call the hotel chain to find out if they were still considering building a hotel in Bramble. After spending a good half hour trying to bridge the language barrier between India and Texas, he was transferred to the corporate office where he spoke to a vice president who beat around the bush more than Uncle Harley before he informed them that Slumber Suites had decided Bramble was a bad risk.
The news was discouraging, but it didn’t slow Hope down. On Thursday, she stopped by the hardware store
to see if Ralph would donate some paint for the storefronts. Unfortunately, he had already donated ten gallons of purple paint to paint the town hall for Faith and Slate’s wedding. Hope had just stepped out of the hardware store on her way to go talk to Rye Pickett to see if they had any paint left over when Bear’s big black Dodge truck pulled up.
After Sheldon, she thought the town would give up on their craziness. Obviously, she’d been wrong. But at least this time, the man Bear had with him didn’t look terrified. In fact, he looked quite pleased with himself.
“Hey, Texas!” Her agent, Ryan Seever, hopped up on the sidewalk and engulfed her in a hug. After she had inhaled a lungful of his expensive cologne, he pulled back and gave her one of those smiles that only convinced people who didn’t know him. “So this is where you’ve been hiding out.”
Hope barely acknowledged the greeting before she turned her narrowed gaze on Bear. His beady eyes widened with fear, and he took a few steps back, stumbling over a crack in the sidewalk.
“Now, Hog, I didn’t force him. This here feller wanted to come see you.”
“That’s exactly right, Bear.” Ryan reached out and slapped the mountain of a man on the back. “I take full responsibility.”
Since Ryan had never taken responsibility for anything, Hope grew even more suspicious about his presence in Bramble. But she wasn’t about to question him, not when they had started to draw a crowd.
Traffic had slowed to a snail’s pace, and people were stepping out of the businesses up and down Main Street
to stare at her and Ryan like they were bugs beneath a microscope. The women looked hopeful, as if waiting for her and Ryan to declare their undying love, while the men just looked mean. When riled, Texans could be extremely unpredictable. And even if she and Ryan hadn’t ended on the best of terms, she didn’t want to see the man riddled with buckshot because they thought he’d deserted Hope and his baby.