Travis Comes Home

Hell, he was going to make his first million before thirty. He’d succeeded all right, but lost it even faster. And no matter how far or how fast he’d ridden, he couldn’t outrun the pain and shame that plagued him. Once again the family name had been tarnished, and he’d caused it.

Travis climbed off his horse, and taking the reins, led the roan gelding toward the creek. He crouched down, scooped some water in his cupped hands and drank thirstily. After having his fill, he stood, leaving Rocky at the stream and went to sit under a tree.

Travis had been back at the Circle B for two weeks, and if it hadn’t been for Ella, he’d still be hiding out in his old bedroom. He smiled. Even when he’d been a kid, the Circle B housekeeper would never let him brood. She said it was a waste of time. Early this morning, she’d pushed him out of the house and told him she didn’t want to see him back until dinner.

Sadness coursed through him as he thought about the past month. How had his life fallen apart? All the years of school, work, the planning and sacrifices he’d given up to start his computer security business, Private Access. It was history now. It was gone. All because he’d trusted a woman.

Damn! How could he let himself be taken in? He thought he was too smart. Hell, maybe he would have seen it coming if he’d been thinking with his brain and not his… He shook away the thought of Lisa’s expert seduction. Next time he’d be ready.

God help the woman who tries it again.

The sound of a voice interrupted his thoughts. Travis cocked his head and listened. Someone was singing. A soft, husky woman’s voice floated through the air. He stood. There wasn’t supposed to be anyone around. Certainly not on Circle B land.

Angered by the invasion, he followed the sound toward a group of shrubs about a hundred yards up the creek and stopped suddenly when his gaze locked on the grove of trees. There was a clearing and a campsite under them, a sleeping bag, and a backpack. And the trespasser.

A woman sat on a large rock beside the creek, her back to him as she leisurely brushed her hair. Something stopped him from calling out to her. Instead, he watched the rhythmic actions of the brush running through the long silken strands as the filtered sunlight danced on her beautiful raven hues.

Then Rocky’s whinny broke the spell, and Travis glanced back to see that the horse had followed him. The sound also caught the intruder’s attention. She swung around and stood.

“Who’s there?” she called out.

The woman was tiny. She couldn’t be any more than five-two or three and probably not a hundred pounds. Her green-hazel eyes were large and haunting as she stared back at him in challenge. Her obvious Spanish heritage was only enhanced by the coal-black hair that flowed halfway down her back. Dressed in faded jeans and scuffed boots, she looked like she belonged on a ranch. But not this ranch. He tensed as he glanced down at her sleeping bag and spotted the camera.

Dammit. They’d found him.

Travis stepped out into the clearing. “I think you already know who I am. Now, you’ve got one minute to get the hell off Barrett land.”

Josie Gutierrez opened her mouth to speak, but at the mention of the Barrett name, she suddenly lost her voice. This cowboy with the brooding dark eyes wasn’t about to let her explain. His cowboy hat was cocked back, revealing light-brown hair that fell across his forehead. He was tall with wide shoulders. His large hands were fisted on narrow hips.

Josie knew she’d better do something fast because he wasn’t going to give her much time to explain. And she hadn’t had time to think up a story. Seeing this cowboy’s seething look, she knew no matter what she told him, he wasn’t going to believe her.

“Barrett land?” she said.

“Don’t play innocent with me. You know damn well where you are.”

“I just came here to take some pictures of the valley.”

“You’re lying,” he accused, then walked to her camera, but before he could reach it, Josie grabbed it away, holding it protectively. She’d worked too many fourteen-hour shifts to pay for her camera. No one was going take her prize possession.

“No really, I’m just interested in the scenery and the mustangs. Is there a law against that?” she asked, trying not to back away from him. Don’t show fear, she told herself.

“There’s a law against trespassing.”

“I didn’t think anyone would mind. I was just camping for the night. And I was going to clean up my mess. Sorry if I intruded on your privacy. I’ll leave now.”

He stepped in front of her. “Not until you give me the film in your camera.”

“What?” The man was crazy. “I told you I took pictures of the landscape and the mustangs.”

“Cut the bull, Ms…. Do you have a name?”

“Josie Gutierrez.”

“Ms. Gutierrez. I’m not buying it.” He held out his hand. “I want the film.”

“And I’m not giving it to you. I’m a photographer. I sell my pictures.”

“And you trespassed on private property to get those pictures.”

“Is this your land?” she asked, knowing from her limited research that Hank Barrett owned the Circle B.

“I don’t see that it’s any business of yours.”

She straightened to her full, five-foot-three height. “Well, is it? You could be trespassing, too. How do I know that you aren’t a cattle rustler?”

The man’s jaw tensed. His eyes flared with anger, then turned hard. “Who the hell sent you? What newspaper do I contact when I have you tossed in jail?”

Before Josie could deny anything else two men on horseback came over the rise. One man was about thirty, but her breath caught when she saw the other was in his sixties. Could he be…?

They rode down to the trees. The older man spoke. “Travis, what’s going on?”

Travis faced the rider. “Not sure, Hank. I found her camped here. I was just getting rid of her.”

Josie’s heart began beating wildly. He was Hank Barrett. She couldn’t take her eyes off him as he climbed off his horse. He was tall, with straight broad shoulders. His face was weathered from age and the sun, but it was his eyes that made her stomach tighten. Hank Barrett had hazel eyes…like hers.

He walked toward her and smiled. “Hello, Miss, I’m Hank Barrett.” He tipped his hat. “And this is Travis Randell, and this is his brother, Chance.” Hank removed his gloves and held out his hand.

She gave the three of them a tense smile. “I’m Josie Gutierrez.” She took his hand.

“Sorry Travis hasn’t been very neighborly. I know there are several campgrounds in the area. Is there any particular reason you decided to camp here?”

Travis threw up his arms. “Isn’t it obvious? She’s here to get a picture of me.”

Josie had had enough of the man. “Get over yourself, Mr. Randell, I don’t even know you.” She looked back to see a broad grin on Hank’s face. “I just take pictures of wildlife and scenery, Mr. Barrett.”

“Please, call me Hank.”

Her heart tripped again. “Hank…I heard about Mustang Valley and thought I could get some good shots. I’m trying to make a living as a photographer.”

Chance Randell climbed down from his horse and joined them. “Are you here to work on the guest ranch brochure?”

Josie swallowed and mentally asked for forgiveness for her next lie. “Yes, I want to work on the brochure,” she replied. “I haven’t made a name for myself as a photographer, yet. I mean, I haven’t published anything that you would know about. So I thought that if I took some pictures of the valley you might like my work.”

“It’s a lie, Hank,” Travis insisted. “She’s more than likely from a Houston newspaper.”

“I’ve never been to Houston in my life.” That was the truth.

Hank held up his hands. “Why don’t we go back to the ranch and sort this out over breakfast?”