The Accidental Bride (23 page)

He couldn't buy it in Moose Creek without starting the rumor mill, so while he was at his folks' house, he did a little online browsing. He settled on a simple gold band with some fine beveling at the edge. It was made from quality materials by a reputable company, and the simple design suited Shay.

Travis filled out his credit and shipping info and clicked
Buy
. There. It was done. The timing wasn't right yet, but when the moment arrived, the ring would be waiting.

He printed out the receipt, then gathered the bills. He was just turning off the lights when his cell rang. Seth's name showed on the ID.

“Hey, buddy,” Travis said.

“Did you hear?”

“Hear what?”

“We made it!” Seth let out a whoop Travis could've heard clear from Texas.

Travis pulled the phone from his ear, smiling. “The finals?”

“You and me, baby! Fourteenth place, but still. What do you expect when you deserted me halfway through the season?”

He smiled at his friend's teasing. “Well, don't that beat all. Your first finals.”

“You finaled in steer and tie roping too, dude.”

“What d'ya know. Congrats, man.”

“You too. Gotta run. You'd better be practicing, partner.”

“Don't worry, I'll be in top form.”

Travis turned off his phone and locked up his parents' house.

The finals were the first full week of December. Since they had to arrive early, he'd have to leave just before Thanksgiving. He'd miss his parents' return by a couple days.

Worse, he'd be leaving about the time his and Shay's arrangement ended. He wondered how the news would hit her. Would she feel he was leaving her for the rodeo again? If it were just him, he'd gladly pass it up, but Seth was depending on him. He couldn't burst his buddy's dream.

He'd break the news to Shay later. Maybe he could invite her along. Just as quickly, he discounted the idea. Olivia would be in school, and there was no one else to run her ranch. Besides, she'd never leave the ranch or Olivia for a couple weeks.

Shay was glad for the respite when Travis went to the Barr M. She hoped Olivia arrived before he returned. But what if she didn't come home for hours? Last night had changed things. What were they going to do all evening, here, all alone? How was she going to manage for two more months? How was she going to avoid a repeat of last night, with Travis tossing her those sexy smiles?

The house felt stuffy and too warm. Too small. She made an impromptu decision to eat at the picnic table where the breeze would carry the manly smell of him someplace else.

She was setting the food on the table when she heard his truck rumble up the drive. Just a simple, quick little supper, then Olivia would be home and all would be well. No reason to end up in his embrace on the sofa again. No reason whatsoever.

She was entering the house for the plates and silver when Travis entered the front door with a stack of mail.

“Thought we'd eat outside,” she said.

He grabbed the bottle of ketchup and the salad and followed her out the patio door.

After he said grace, Shay served herself and handed him the tongs. “Everything all right at your parents' place?”

“Running smooth. Jacob's got it under control.”

Her cell rang, and she pulled it from her pocket and checked the ID.

“Hey, hon. You have a good day?”

“Yeah. We worked in the garden awhile, then Abigail let us cook supper. I learned how to make chicken and dumplings from scratch.”

“Sounds fun.”

“Can I spend the night, Mom? Abigail said it's okay.”

She looked at Travis and found his eyes on her. She envisioned the quiet house. The empty house. The feel of his arms around her, his mouth on hers.

“No.” Her answer was abrupt. “I mean, another time, okay, munchkin?”

“Awwww . . . ,” Olivia said, and she heard Maddy in the background. “Please, please, please?”

Travis lifted a brow, and the corner of his lip kicked up.

She looked away. “Another time.” Like three months from now.

“All right,” her daughter said, heavy on the pout.

“You finished with supper?”

“Yeah.” She heard Abigail's muffled voice in the background. “Abigail said to tell you she was just trying to lend God an extra hand. Whatever that means.”

“Tell Abigail—” She looked at Travis, chewing, still looking smug. “Never mind.”

“Abigail said she'd run me home in a few minutes.”

“Perfect. See you.”

She turned off the phone and stuffed it into her pocket. She could feel Travis's eyes on her.

“Wanted to spend the night?” Travis asked.

“Mm-hmm.”

“Why'd you say no?”

She didn't answer. She could already hear everything she needed to hear from the tone of his voice. She dipped her bite of meat loaf in ketchup and ate it.

“Chicken?”

She met his eyes boldly. “Really, McCoy?”

His eyes danced, silver sparks igniting in the evening light. A hint of a smirk tugged at his lips. His jaw bore the stubble of a long day. She could feel the graze of it against her palm, against her cheek. Feel the contrasting softness of his lips on hers.

The boldness oozed from her body, down the bench, and puddled beneath the table. She swallowed a lump of corn.

“Is it me you don't trust?” he asked. “Or yourself?”

She pulled her eyes away from his, cleared her throat. “I wanted to tell Olivia about the braces, that's all.” She took another bite of cold corn, fixed her eyes on a crack in the table that ran all the way to the end.

“If you say so.”

She didn't look again. His words repeated in her head. The swaggering tone ringing clear as a bell. She wasn't fooling anyone, least of all herself.

A week later Shay was doing the breakfast dishes, when a knock sounded on the door. Olivia was at school and Travis had run to the hardware store, so she dried her hands and went to answer. Through the window, she saw a brown UPS truck.

“Howdy, Shay,” Morton Spencer said through his grizzly beard. “Got a delivery—for Travis.” He handed over a small package.

Shay looked at the return address label. Signature Jewelers.

“Says to deliver it to his folks' place, but since he's living here now . . .” Morton shrugged and held out the form for her signature.

She looked at the package, felt a small square box inside. Who was Travis buying jewelry for? He didn't wear any himself, never had, except for the old wedding band he wore now.

Surely he hadn't bought something for her. Her birthday was past, and Christmas was three months off.

But what if he had? What if he'd had it shipped to his folks' house intentionally?

“Shay? You gonna sign?” Morton shoved the form and pen toward her.

Instead, Shay handed back the package. “You know, maybe you'd better take this next door, Morton.”

His bushy gray brows popped up. “You sure?”

She gave a friendly smile. “I'm sure. Thanks for bringing it by, though.”

He shrugged his burly shoulders. “Suit yourself. Have a good one now.”

“You too.”

Shay closed the door and headed for the kitchen as a thread of happiness spiraled through her.

26

T
ravis watched Shay glide across the floor, her hips swaying with the line dance steps, thumbs hooked in her front pockets. The Chuckwagon was packed and noisy, their friends and neighbors ready for a fun night out after a full workweek. The lead singer of the Silver Spurs belted out the chorus.

Dylan sank into the chair across from him, bearing a heaping plate of nachos with the works. “Help yourself,” his friend hollered over the music.

Travis waved the plate away and turned his eyes toward Shay again. Olivia misstepped, bumped into Shay, and they laughed.

The girl's braces sparkled under the lights. She'd had them on a few weeks and never once complained of the pain. She proudly showed off her pink and purple bands at every opportunity. It felt good to do something to help her, something far-reaching. He could get used to this.

“So, how's all that going?” Dylan gestured toward Shay with a loaded nacho in his hand.

Travis and Dylan had hit it off since his return, and Travis had confided in him about the real circumstances of his and Shay's relationship.

“Slow.” Travis pulled his eyes from Shay and took a long drink.

Dylan smiled around a bite. “Not what I heard.”

How did . . . Ah. Shay
had
told Abigail about their kiss. Then Abigail told Wade and Wade told Dylan. “Good to know the rumor mill's in working order.”

Another month had passed, and he was no closer to winning her heart than he had been. If anything, he was further away.

“Think I scared her away,” he said over the din.

“She doesn't strike me as skittish. Reminds me of another filly I know,” Dylan said, looking across the room where Annie Stevens sat with her sister Sierra.

Shay might have come across as strong and fearless. But Travis knew her the way others didn't. “Not as tough as she seems.” In fact, deep down she was downright soft and vulnerable.

The line dancers spun on their heels and faced the band, gliding to the right. He drank in Shay's form. Square shoulders, narrow waist, legs that went forever. He realized he was ogling and tore his eyes away.

But she was his wife, blast it—biblically and legally. Could he help it if he loved her? If he wanted her in every way? If he wasn't careful, Thanksgiving would arrive and he'd be out on his tail end, his chance gone forever.

The thought scared him spitless. It was the same fear that stopped him from broaching the topic of the rodeo finals. He was afraid of losing her. As much as he wanted her, he had to be careful. She'd had enough hurt for one lifetime. He had to earn her trust before breaking the news, but he was running out of time.

He had to woo her, which was what he'd been trying to do
. I
could use some help here, God. I'm getting nowhere fast
. Just like that dream he'd had. On a treadmill, going nowhere.

Right now he just wanted to take her in his arms and hold her all night long. Protect her from all life's hurts, soothe away the ones in her past. He could almost feel her lean softness pressed against him.

The song drew to a close, and he watched her take a final twirl. The dancers began dispersing as the band kicked into a slow tune.

“Excuse me,” he said, standing. “I have a woman to claim.”