saying I can deduct my fees from your salary,” Liz ascertained, thinking how much that would help the ranch coffers.
“Until we’re even. Yep.”
Confident that she could easily separate the business from the personal, she held out her palm. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”
They shook on it. Unprecedented warmth spread throughout her body as Travis’s hand engulfed hers. Liz’s throat went dry as she gazed up into his eyes. Maybe it wasn’t going to be as easy to keep her emotional distance as she thought.
Luckily, the moment was interrupted by the loud chiming of the ranch bell.
Smiling cheerfully, she let go of his palm and stepped back. “Dinner is ready.”
Travis reached for his hat and slapped it back on his head, tugging it low across his brow. “Best not keep the ladies waiting, then.”
Together they slipped out of the homestead and headed past the barns to the ranch house.
“One more thing,” Travis cautioned after a moment.
Liz kept moving, staying a careful distance away from him, but slanting him a curious look.
“I’d rather Tillie, Faye Elizabeth and Reba not know I’ve retained your services as an attorney. At least until my, uh, difficulty is all cleared up.”
Thanks to the way Liz had been running off at the mouth earlier, the other Cartwright women already knew she’d suspected Travis was in some sort of downward spiral. Not that any of them seemed to care.
Liz sidestepped the opportunity to tell Travis that, and said, “I’m bound by attorney-client privilege now, as you well know. So they’ll hear nothing from me about what you’ve just told me. But lawsuits are a matter of public record, as are the suspension of law licenses.” For the second time, she warned, “This is going to get out.”
He nodded, clearly aware of that. “But until it does … we’ll let others assume that you and I are spending time together to go over ranch business, or reestablish our previous friendship. Agreed?”
Secrets of this sort bred an intimacy they did not need. Yet what choice did she have? Reluctantly, Liz conceded. “For now, no one else needs to know I’m representing you.”
He exhaled in relief.
Bound together by the confidence, they continued walking toward the house, through the back door and into the kitchen.
“Where have you two been?” Faye Elizabeth demanded, as always on the alert for romance in Liz’s life. “And why don’t you have your things? I assumed that was what was taking so long at the homestead.”
Not quite, Liz thought, keeping her expression bland so as not to give anything away.
Travis removed his hat and put it on a hook near the door. “That was my fault, I’m afraid.” He flashed a winning smile and ran a hand through the rumpled layers of his dark brown hair. “I got to talking….”
And asking for help, Liz thought, still a little amazed he had needed it.
Clearly exasperated, Tillie herded them all toward the large, old-fashioned kitchen table—and the dinner the women had lovingly prepared. “Let them be. We’ve got a hot meal to eat.”
And a big, strapping man to feed….
“As well as serious business to discuss,” Reba added as they all sat down at the big oak table.
Travis’s knee nudged Liz’s as they got situated.
She flushed at the unexpected wave of heat that resulted, and edged back in her chair.
Oblivious to Liz’s reaction, Reba complained, “We are way behind in the ranch work.”
Liz forced herself to concentrate on something other than Travis’s big, rangy frame.
“I know that, Mom.” She tried not to feel as if the fate of the Four Winds was resting on her shoulders. Or would be, if she would only do what the others wanted and take over the running of the ranch, as tradition dictated. “It’s why we hired Travis to help us.”
Liz looked at him, hoping he would get the hint and divert their attention.
“Maybe you should make a list of what needs to be done, and in what order,” he suggested with a faint smile.
While the women looked on approvingly, he placed a generous serving of tender, juicy beef brisket on his plate.
Reba passed the heaping bowl of skillet corn, livened up with diced onion and green and red pepper. “Liz can help you with that.”
Liz knew a bit of ham-handed matchmaking when she saw it. She suppressed a beleaguered sigh while dishing potato salad and coleslaw onto her plate. “I think you should do it, Mom. Since you’re the one running the physical side of the ranch. I’m only here when I can be, to help out.”
Which wasn’t all that often, given the demands of her law practice.
Reba disagreed. “I’ve been wanting to pass the responsibility on to you for several years now. And especially now, with my sciatica acting up again … and Travis here to do the heavy labor. It seems like it is finally time for you to take over the reins of the Four Winds.”
It might seem that way to the other Cartwright women, perhaps, Liz thought with mounting resentment. Not to her.
Travis arched a brow.
“You know what to do, Liz,” Reba continued persuasively. “All I’m asking is that you find time to do it.”
Sidestepping the familiar argument, Liz spread a gingham napkin across her lap. She understood her duty to her family. She just couldn’t do everything they wanted her to, when they wanted it done. “First things first.” Trying not to notice how easily he had made himself at home in such an estrogen-charged environment, she locked eyes with Travis. “I have to clear my belongings out of the homestead so Travis can move in.”
“YOU DON’T HAVE ANY intention of ever taking over management of this ranch, do you?” Travis murmured, after the meal had been concluded and the two of them had been shooed out of the ranch house and over to the homestead to get the moving done.
Just go right to the heart of things, why don’t you? Liz thought.
Hating the way he saw inside her head—zeroing in on what no one else knew, even after all this time—she opened up the bureau drawers and moved her clothing into two open suitcases.
With her voice as crisp and businesslike as her actions, she continued, “It isn’t necessary right now, since Great-grandma Tillie is still doing the books and the land management, Grandma Faye Elizabeth is doing the majority of the cooking and housekeeping, and my mom is overseeing most of the actual labor.”
His broad shoulders flexing against the fabric of his twill work shirt, Travis boxed up Liz’s books. He paused to give her a speculative once-over, then moved his gaze to her eyes. “But it will be necessary for you
