Scarlett squeezed his hand. “Please try, for me. You’ve got to keep your strength up so you can get better.”
Though a slight frown creased his forehead, as if her comment baffled him, he didn’t argue. Instead, he released her fingers and made a show out of lifting up his own sandwich. He took a huge bite, winking at her, and then nearly gagged as he tried to swallow.
Concerned, she jumped out of her chair and went around to pat him on the back. “Are you all right? Should I call Delilah?”
“I’m fine,” he rasped, eyes watering as he waved her away. “Just swallowed wrong. Sit down and enjoy your food.”
Heart still pounding, she sat back down. Still watching Hal closely, she picked up her sandwich, struggling to keep parts of it from falling out. Her stomach rumbled as she took a big bite. Not wanting to appear ravenous, which she was, she chewed slowly, even though she wanted to wolf the entire thing down.
Some of the tightness in her chest eased as Hal took another, much smaller bite. Maybe this was going to be all right after all.
It appeared she’d be staying. As she walked out to her car to retrieve her bags, she resisted the urge to do a happy jig. Honestly, she’d been hoping her father would invite her to spend some time getting to know him. There was nothing like the death of the person you believed to be your only parent to make one feel rudderless and alone.
Grief slammed into her. She missed her mama. Maggie had been fascinating and lively, a bright light in Scarlett’s world. She had also been mercurial, flitting from one thing to another as her interest dictated. But she’d loved Scarlett fiercely, and the two of them had been close. Maggie had supported Scarlett’s interest in the arts, even when another parent might have insisted she get her degree in something practical, like business or education.
And now Maggie was gone too soon, though she’d fought long and hard. Scarlett had been forced to bury her terror and sorrow, offering her support as she watched her vivacious flame of a mother burn down to a smoldering ember, and finally ashes.
Learning about her father had pulled Scarlett away from the depths of her grief. Even though she hadn’t realized Hal was sick. From the looks of him, whatever ailed him was serious.
Dagnab it, she wasn’t sure she had the fortitude to go through this again. Right now, she knew she’d do whatever it took to get Hal well. With or without the taciturn Travis’s support.
After Hal informed him Scarlett would be staying in the main house for as long as she wanted, Travis took himself home. He didn’t say a word to Vivian or Amber about Hal’s visitor. They’d find out about her soon enough and he didn’t feel up to attempting to answer all their questions. Especially since he knew so little himself.
Scarlett Kistler. Gorgeous, sexy and totally out of her league on a working cattle ranch. Was she really Hal’s daughter? Her eyes were the same shape and color as his, but otherwise Travis saw little resemblance. Regardless, this woman, with her bright green eyes and her false air of sincerity, had come at the worst possible time, right as Hal appeared to be losing his battle with whatever mysterious illness attacked his body.
To be objective, on the plus side, as Hal neared the end of his journey, Scarlett’s appearance offered him the one thing he’d always craved and never had. Family. Despite the fact that Travis considered Hal his father, and vice versa, Travis would always only be a stepson. He wasn’t blood, wasn’t true kin. Though Hal had never said so to Travis, he’d told Vivian that the lack of a son or daughter of his own was one of his biggest regrets. Vivian, who never could keep a secret to save her life, had passed this on to Travis without a thought for how this knowledge might make him feel.
Most days, Travis tried not to think about not being Hal’s actual son. When he’d been younger, he’d often hoped the rancher would adopt him, but Hal never had. And now, it was too late. He couldn’t change anything, and things were what they were. He’d do as he always did—work hard and take care of Hal and the others as best he could. If this dark-haired newcomer brought Hal happiness, Travis wasn’t one to begrudge him that.
And if Scarlett had ulterior motives for being there, hopefully she’d look around the decaying Victorian and realize Hal didn’t have ready access to huge sums of money. Most of his savings had been depleted trying to find out what was wrong with him.
As for his assets... There was the ranch, of course. And the livestock. Oh, and the fact that oil had been found on neighboring pastures. Once she learned about that moneymaking potential, she’d probably be all over the oil company’s offers like a flea on a dog. Vivian and Amber certainly were.
Travis couldn’t worry about that. He had enough on his shoulders as it stood. No matter whether Scarlett was the real deal or not, her very presence had the potential to break Hal’s heart.
Damned if he’d let it get to that. For now, he’d keep an eye on her. But the second she gave the slightest inclination toward trying to use Hal in any way, Travis would immediately put a stop to it. He’d get rid of her, offer her money, whatever it took. And make sure she told a good, believable story so Hal would be none the wiser.
The next morning, up before sunrise as usual, he chugged down a large cup of strong black coffee and ate his usual breakfast of eggs, bacon and toast. Though he normally stopped by and had breakfast with Hal, he wasn’t up for dealing with Scarlett first thing before starting his day.
Like always, he had a long list of chores to take care of. Today, he planned to repair some fence line on one of the remote pastures. Most of those were best accomplished on horseback. Eager to get started, he saddled up his best gelding and headed out.
Riding always soothed away any ill temper or worries. The motion of the horse under his saddle, the connection he shared with the animal, felt better than driving any machine made by man. He checked on some fence line under repair before joining up with a couple of ranch hands bringing in a herd of cattle. By the time they’d gotten them into the new pasture, he was tired and dirty and hungry. And it wasn’t even much past noon yet.
He headed back in, figuring he’d stop by and see Hal and have lunch. Might as well check on how things were going between the old rancher and his new daughter.
When he reached the barn, he saw Scarlett perched on a bale of straw. Today, she wore another brightly colored dress and bright red high-heeled shoes. She looked both exotic and completely out of place. And much more beautiful than she had a right to be.
For all intents and purposes, she appeared to be waiting for him. Ignoring the way his heart skipped a beat at the sight of her, he rode past, deliberately ignoring her while he dismounted. He tied the reins to a hook outside the stall and removed his saddle, which he carried over to the saddle rack. Returning, he dipped his chin in a small nod of greeting and began brushing down his mount.
He knew the instant she got up and came around to stand silently behind him, though he pretended not to notice. He hated the way his body hummed with hyperawareness of her presence, as if he’d merely been sleepwalking and only came awake when she was near.
But then again, beautiful women had always been his weakness. A blessing and a curse. Once, when he’d cared enough to actually try to attract them, they’d flocked to him like moths to a flame.
Now
