Roughneck Cowboy

“Grandpa’s old dog. He slept with us in the bunkhouse. He’s got ’thritus, right, Grandpa?”

“Arthritis,” Dominick clarified, then fired off another question at his granddaughter. “How old are you?”

“Eight. I’m in second grade and my birthday’s March 25th.”

“You’re awfully small for an eight-year-old. Do you drink enough milk?”

“I don’t know. Do I, Dad?” Charlie asked.

“Plenty.” Then Travis added for his father’s benefit, “Charlie’s mother is a petite woman.”

“What’s petite?” Charlie asked.

“Little, like you,” Travis answered.

“Julie’s really pretty. Dad’s got lots of pictures of her.”

Lots equated to a half-dozen snapshots he’d taken of Julie when they’d first begun dating. He’d kept the photos for Charlie’s sake—and to remind himself that pretty blondes were a waste of time.

“Brush your teeth before you play with the dog,” Travis said. A few weeks ago, he’d caught Charlie licking a dab of paste from the tube instead of using her toothbrush. Now he checked the bristles to make sure they were wet. She’d yet to figure out how he knew when she hadn’t brushed her teeth.

“I’ll brush ’em later.”

“Now.” He and his daughter engaged in a staredown. After several seconds, Charlie stomped out of the room.

“Spirited young gal,” Dominick said.

“I’d like to speak with you in private about Charlie before we leave.”

“You’re leaving?”

Had Dominick forgotten his rude behavior the previous night when he’d slammed his office door in Travis’s face? “It’s obvious you don’t want us here.” No sense beating around the bush.

“I don’t like surprises.”

Travis caught a glimpse of fear in his father’s eyes. What did the old man have to be afraid of?

“I’d like you and Charlotte to spend Thanksgiving with the family.”

Travis wasn’t used to being around a big family. Samantha seemed nice enough, but Matt and Duke had kept their distance the previous night. He’d rather settle his business with Dominick and leave.

Before Travis found a way to turn down the invitation, Dominick asked, “Do you have other plans for the holiday?”

“No.”

“Then it’s settled. You and Charlotte will stay here.” Dominick set his coffee cup in the sink, then lifted his coat from a hook by the back door. “Tell Charlotte I’ll be in the barn, waiting for her.”

As Travis gathered the dirty dishes, he didn’t know whether to be relieved or worried that Dominick had insisted he and Charlie remain at the Lazy River awhile longer. He wanted to learn what had gone wrong between his parents, but feared his mother would be made out to be the villain.

Charlie raced into the kitchen, shoving her arms into her jacket sleeves. “Where’s Grandpa?”

“Waiting for you in the barn.”

His daughter dashed outside.

A knock sounded at the door just as Travis had finished loading the dishwasher. The schoolteacher stood on the porch. Her eyes widened when their gazes connected.

“I can’t believe I didn’t notice the resemblance before now.”

Travis had better get used to that reaction if he intended to stick around the area. “C’mon in.” She stepped into the kitchen and he closed the door against the cold. She was taller than he’d first guessed, standing only a few inches shorter than his own six-foot-two-inch height.

“Sara Sanders.” She held out her hand.

“Travis Cartwright.” He grasped her fingers, surprised when he felt calluses on her palm—not the hands of a typical schoolteacher. “My daughter’s name is Charlie.”

A hint of a smile toyed with Sara’s mouth. “Ah, yes, the little walrus.”

“I don’t know where she got the idea to stick straws up her nose.” Travis caught the clean scent that wafted in the air around Sara’s head. Soap. Not perfume. He looked out the kitchen window and spotted a white compact parked next to his truck. Sara drove an economical, no-frills vehicle.

“The resemblance is uncanny,” she said, staring at his face.

“Dominick is my father.”

“My family’s ranch borders the Lazy River and we’ve never heard of a fourth Cartwright sibling.”

“Dominick had no idea I existed.”

“Amazing.”

“Coffee?”

“No, thanks.” Sara’s attention shifted to the doorway.

“Dominick’s in the barn with Charlie.”

“Where are the rest of the Cartwrights?”

“Visiting the housekeeper.”

Up close, Sara was definitely a plain Jane. Tall. Serious. Tiny crow’s-feet fanned from the corner of her eyes, insisting she spent as many days in the sun as she did in the classroom. He guessed her age to be around his own. “Are you and Dominick friends?” He emphasized the word friend, suspecting women of all ages pursued Dominick…or rather his millions.

“Hardly. We’re not even friendly neighbors.” She motioned out the window. “Do you know how long he’ll be?”

Travis shrugged. “You’re welcome to go out and speak with him if you want.”

“I guess I’ll take that cup of coffee and wait.” She draped her coat over the back of the chair.

Considering that most of his days and nights were spent in the company of rabble-rousers, when Travis was with a woman the last thing he cared to do was talk. “Where do you teach?” He set two mugs on the table and joined Sara.