Chapter Three
Kami steered Ben’s Saturn over the gravel roads that led to the hunk of flimsy trailer house she’d grown up in. Another yawn interrupted the trip. She’d gotten no sleep last night, stewing about the conversation with Travis the whole time. And the financial corner she’d backed herself into.
If Austin hadn’t danced on all her insecurities when she’d brought up buying the empty store, maybe she wouldn’t have blown up at Travis. Her mom might not be selling, but Travis had highlighted a problem. Eventually, something had to be done with the place, and the sooner the better, otherwise it could be a money drain. Money they didn’t have.
How easy it would be to sell to the Walkers. They’d swoop in with a big “You’re welcome” and work a mighty profit out of the place, all while assuming she and her mother were useless.
The placating look on Travis’s handsome face… Her fist tightened around the wheel. She hated being on the receiving end of that look. Somehow it seemed worse because it was from Travis. Even after she’d slept with him and ran back to Austin, believing what everyone said. A man that smart was only interested in her for one thing, and he’d gotten it. Who was she to think he’d want to stick around? But he’d treated her respectfully the few times they spoke before she’d moved. Until last night.
That place needs a lot of work.
She let out a disgusted sound. Like she didn’t know.
“What, Mom? Did you say something?”
Kami glanced in the rearview mirror where her daughter’s flaxen head was bent over the electronic device that might as well sprout from her palm. “You would know if you weren’t buried in that phone.”
Kambria lifted her brows in the I’m not rolling my eyes so I can’t get in trouble way.
Ben’s parents had bought her the phone, making it sound as if a responsible mother would’ve already gotten her one. They insinuated Kambria was in dire danger as she waited at home for a whole forty-five minutes after school before Kami’s shift was done at the diner. She argued that her daughter had a phone, a small pay-as-you-go one that cost barely a cent to keep up. They’d insisted on a “reliable” smart phone.
And what Ben’s parents wanted, they got.
Kami pulled into the mile-long drive that led to a rundown house nested in ratty trees. Somehow, Ben’s parents and her mom got along excellently, leaving Kami swimming alone in well-intentioned waters. Her mom with a questionable reputation and a failing farm and Ben’s parents with their Lexus and pensions had bonded over their young kids expecting a baby when they should’ve been deep into their freshman year of college. None of them had wanted her and Ben to get married, but he’d been the strong one in the relationship. Kami had gladly stepped aside and let him fight their parental battles. As the straight-A football player, his words had seemed to hold more credibility.
Unfortunately, an arrangement that had worked when he was alive failed her completely when he died. It wasn’t that none of them took her seriously; they just lacked all faith in her competence and ability to accomplish anything.
They neared the house, and Kambria plastered her face against the window. “OMG, Mom. Grandma’s tree fell!”
Kami’s gaze flicked to the tree, an old willow that had shaded half the front yard and had been the best climbing tree ever looked destroyed. The ragged stump jutted about six feet off the ground, the heavy limbs piled underneath. Black mottled branches gave it an ominous appearance.
“It was really sick.’’ If Ben were alive, he would’ve chopped it down and hauled it out. Anyone else would charge more than Mom could handle.
“Aw, that’s too bad.” Kambria’s mournful tone made Kami smile. Full of attitude one minute, back to sweet little girl the next.
Kami parked in front of the house. The big garage ten yards away was full of crap her mom couldn’t sell. Nothing useful, like a tractor that could haul big, round bales. Kami chewed the inside of her cheek as she pondered the possibility of buying this place.
Switching her future options from opening a gymnastics academy to ranching wasn’t a natural transition. What did the two have to do with each other? Nothing, other than they both were huge parts of her life.
Buying the space for her gymnastics academy would leave her and Kambria in a tiny apartment while renovations were done. She’d have a lot of stress hiring and training coaches and building up class size to where they could support the facility. Learning to run a business was another huge hurdle, along with finding adequate fund-raisers and steady sponsors. The community was supportive, and she was a local girl, but she was still Earl and Pam English’s daughter. A nobody born of nobodies with no credentials behind her name to give sponsors the warm fuzzies to hand money over. It had been a decision fraught with indecision, but she’d made it.
Then Travis.
Ranching was a business she knew. She’d helped her dad, which also meant she probably learned a lot of the wrong ways to do business. She’d been in gymnastics since she was four and she’d ranched just as long. The knowledge, the experience, to run a ranch was in her. Somewhere.
What she didn’t have was the right equipment, the time it’d take to repair all the fences, or any livestock. But she had a job. Two, actually. And she could start small.
She and Kambria could move into this place while her mom could finally escape the gravel roads that clogged up so badly in the winter.
Kambria took off after the cat-size shadows disappearing behind the barn. Another reason why she didn’t want to lose access to a place where her daughter could run like a kid and have animals.
Kami eyed the house she’d grown up in as she climbed out of her car.
She so didn’t want to move back here. It had lacked character and any sort of special features beyond windows that opened when she’d grown up in it, and now it was just rundown.
Yes, getting her mom out of it was a good idea. Getting her and Kambria in it—not so hot of a plan.
Her mom came out onto the sagging deck. Mom was a little shorter than her without the muscle tone Kami had built up in her gymnastics career. Her blond hair now needed help to stay blond, but she looked much younger than fifty-eight. “Hey. What’s up with you two for the weekend?”
It wasn’t unusual for them to stop out, but Kami often called first. This was a conversation she wanted to have in person so her mom knew she was serious about her plan, no matter how impulsive it was.
“I ran into an old friend last night and he’d heard a rumor that you were thinking about selling.”
Mom rolled her eyes. “Doc and his big mouth. He’s stuck with an arm up a cows’ behinds all day that I swear he loses his filter when he gets around real people.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I’ve been trying to convince myself it’s a good idea. This is my home, Kami. It was your grandparents’ home.” She indicated all the land behind Kami. “Not even your dad could destroy it. I stayed out of pure stubbornness even though I was past the point of trying to start all over again.”
“The Walkers want to buy it.”
Mom snorted and crossed her arms. “Of course they do. It’d be perfect for them, and they’d probably try to point out all the reasons why my asking price is too high. As if they couldn’t afford it.”
“I can afford it,” Kami blurted. So much for easing into the topic of her buying it.
“You can’t be serious.” Mom peered at her. “You are. Kami Ray Preston, how the hell do you think you can buy—” She straightened with a knowing nod. “Ben’s life insurance. His mom has been asking if I knew what he’d had. She didn’t believe her son’s job wouldn’t have come with a plan, but you never said anything. Not that you ever do,” she muttered.
Good god, if she’d mentioned Ben left behind a three-hundred-thousand-dollar policy, then his mom would’ve “should” on her all over the place. You should put it away for Kambria’s college. You should buy a decent house. You should let us take care of the details.
They’d pelt her with their suggestions until she caved and turned control over to them. Just like they’d had with the burial, her old house in Normandy, and had started doing with Kambria.
They were the real reason she’d moved back to Moore.
“I had other ideas for it, but we need to save this place, Mom. Keep it in the family.”
With a heavy sigh, Mom nodded. “I agree, but I won’t be any help. One fall off a horse and my bad back is done. But I can’t let you take on my problems. It’d just be selfish because I don’t want the Walkers to have it. They have everything so damn easy. If they want to expand their operation, I ain’t gonna bend over backwards to help them like everyone else in this county.”
Kami didn’t argue. She knew the feeling. The Walkers made everything look easy, always had. While her dad had raised his blood pressure to dangerously high levels stressing over fences and new gimmicks to make money. Those random ideas now clogged the barn, the Walkers rolled by with a new tractor. Or a new horse appeared in their pasture. Their trucks got bigger, and so did the smiles on their faces around town. Since Kami had moved back, she hadn’t seen any change.
“Mom, it’s not selfish to want to fight for a legacy. For the gift of passing land on to your grandchild. For the gift of a childhood that didn’t include waiting at home alone in a small apartment.”
“Land is one thing, but if you have the money, why not set it aside for Kambria?”
“I already have. I invested some.” And that was before Ben’s mom had started nagging. “But I’m more interested in creating opportunities for Kambrai to grow. I want her to… I want her to see me doing something more than scraping to get by.” And I want to be able to talk to a man like Travis Walker and not feel like he’s so far above me that I must look like a scavenging mouse.
Her mom pondered her words. This. This was another reason why she’d moved back. Mom had her moments when she listened, really listened to what Kami had to say. Those moments were far and few between, like when Ben had proposed and Mom said that was the craziest idea she’d ever heard. Two eighteen-year-olds getting married and settling down without trying to go to school. It’d never work.
Kami had made it work.
Dammit, she’d make this work, too. And her mom took her seriously far more often than Ben’s parents.
“Mom!” Kambria sprinted by. “A horse!”
She ran down the drive, her arms waving. A horse came down the ditch with a rider who swayed with the motions, his body relaxed, his head tilted so the brim of his navy blue hat blocked the bright June sun.
“Good lord,” her mom muttered. “She’s gonna spook the horse.”
“No.” She patted her mom’s arm and infused a hint of sarcasm in her tone. “It’s one of the Walkers. Their horses are just as perfect as they are, and I remember Patsy Cline. She’s a calm one.”
Kami didn’t rush after her daughter. The rider was clearly Travis. She’d know the wide set of his shoulders anywhere. Beyond that, she’d secretly spied on him out riding when they were kids and her brain hadn’t let go of the way he rode.
Travis wouldn’t let anything happen to Kambria, or he’d politely excuse himself and nudge Patsy Cline away if he didn’t trust his horse around her. Responsibility had been one of the many points of attraction she’d had with him.
Her daughter chattered excitedly, keeping pace with the horse. Travis laughed, his gaze lifting. Kami swallowed hard. The man was much too potent in broad daylight. Kambria was holding her hands together, pleading with him.
Please don’t beg him to ride. Kami held back a groan. The girl loved all things animal and had relentlessly asked about horses since they’d moved back. We can ride now, right, Mom? Grandma has that land. As if a tiny apartment was the only obstacle to owning a horse.
They approached with the crunch of hooves on the gravel drive.
“Tell you what,” he said, his voice too deep for his own good. “You get your mom to sign off on it and you both can come out anytime planting’s done.”
Kambria blasted past him. “Mom, did you hear that?”
Ugh, it was hard to hold onto righteous anger when he was such a nice guy. “What are you doing here, Travis?” She kept the hostility out of her tone and barely managed to not sound breathy.
“I was taking Reba here out for a spin and I saw your car drive by. I wanted to check in.”
That was not a warm glow that lit her insides. “Kambria, why don’t you go play? Just stay away from the tree.”
“But, Mom—”
Kami shot her the same look she’d just gotten from her own mom. Kambria’s shoulders fell and she jogged to the shed where three cats lounged in the sun.
Travis whistled low. “That tree’s done for.”
Kami glanced at the remains of the willow. Reality seeped in. Her weekend to-do list just turned into finding any tools left in the garage or barn and tackling the massive limbs. Fuck, she’d need a chainsaw.
Get it, girl.
Somehow, her fierceness from last night had dwindled.
Travis tipped his head in greeting. “Pam.” He swung down from Reba. Kami tracked his long legs and the ripple of his muscles under his emerald green shirt and crisp blue jeans.
How did he not even look dusty? She’d bet that if she took her favorite Ariat boots out of the closet that she hadn’t worn since she found out she was pregnant, they’d look dirtier than Travis’s boots.
“How’re your parents doing, Travis?” Mom sounded polite, but like she wouldn’t mind hearing they ran into money troubles and were arguing constantly.
“Good. Lovin’ Arizona.” His sly smile was teasing. “But I think they just like to tell me how nice it is there when I’m plowing drifts of snow taller than me.”
Her mom chuckled, her humor genuine. Was she like Kami? Wanted to hate the man, but he made it impossible. Damn Walker charm.
His gaze met hers, his smile died. “I’m afraid I may have spilled some false news to Kami.”
Mom shook her head. “It ain’t false. Actually, we were discussing that very thing. Kami’s going to buy the place.”
Kami sucked in a breath. Triumph didn’t explode within her. This was happening. She was buying all the pastures and fields around her, along with the dilapidated out-buildings and feeble house. She’d be a business owner all right. Disappointment rose that she couldn’t go back to coaching, wouldn’t get the thrill off seeing her gymnasts in competition.
The magnitude of what she’d just agreed to settled over her. When the hell was she going to have time to do all this?
***
Pam’s announcement wasn’t a surprise. Travis watched a myriad of emotions play across Kami’s face. Her expression settled on muted panic.
She was going through with it then. It’d been a big decision between him and his cousins, but they’d decided they’d be fools not to jump on the sale as soon as it was listed. They’d even discussed meeting with Pam to get it going. By the time the sale was complete, they’d still have decent weather to get some things prepped for the next growing season when they could plant their own silage and start building a herd for at least one of the pastures—the only one Pam hadn’t allowed people to store their junked vehicles in.
It was hard to be happy for her, but she’d gotten what she’d wanted. “That’s great, Kami. I wish you the best.”
Another flare of oh shit what’d I get myself into passed over her face. “Thanks.”
The rest of his family would be sad to hear they’d missed an opportunity. He’d tell them that Pam had offered to Kami first, not that he’d spilled the news and Kami had jumped on it.
Her reaction wasn’t what he’d expected. Smugness? No, that hadn’t been her. An exultant smile and her strolling around announcing all the changes she’d make, maybe. Kami had been a headstrong child. The champion on the school bus when older kids targeted the younger ones. She told everyone how it was going to be and charged ahead. Other kids had naturally followed her lead.
Hell, he would’ve followed her anywhere. He had, too. Until she’d run back to Austin-fucking-Anderson’s arms after their brief night together.
She wasn’t quite the same Kami from those days. It seemed like they’d each lived a lifetime since then. She had a daughter who wasn’t so little anymore, and just like Kami at that age, she was spinning cartwheels through the grass.
Mom lightly tapped her arm. “I’m going to start lunch since you and Kambria are going to be hanging around all weekend messing with that damn tree.” She wandered back to the house.
Reba puffed and nudged him. She wanted to get back to grazing, but he didn’t want to leave.
Kami turned a disheartened smile on him. “Thanks for stopping by. That was really nice of you to check up on me.”
About that. He hadn’t ridden horse for weeks until this morning when he was struck with the urge to not just ride, but head through his own pastures to the ditch running to Kami’s place. Checking on her wasn’t just an excuse. Wanting to see her again fueled that excuse.
Her little girl looked like her. He remembered Ben from football. She had his height and his eyes, but her mischievous grin was all Kami’s. So was her athletic ability, apparently. His eyes widened as she went from being upright to falling back to bridge.
“Holy shit,” he said.
Kami’s grin morphed into proud mom. “She’s getting good.”
“Taught by the best, isn’t she?”
“I’m running out of equipment. I don’t think a beam would fit in my place.” Her smile faded as she glowered at the tree. “Well, I’d better get to work.”
That was his cue to leave. He had a lot of work to do. He really did. There was the…the…
Fuck it. “I’ll ride Reba back and grab my chainsaw.”
Her brows rose, but he didn’t miss the flash of hope. “No. The tree’s not your problem. I’ve got it. Didn’t you say you had planting?”
He’d get out of it. “Not this weekend. It’s no problem.”
He gripped the saddle horn and propped his foot in the stirrup. Swinging easily into the saddle, he glanced down. His mouth quirked. Was it wishful thinking, or had she checked him out?
Her gaze shifted to the tree. The massive limbs would need nothing less than a chainsaw.
“Really, it’s not necessary.” She didn’t sound convinced.
“I know.” He tapped Reba’s flank and flashed Kami a grin as his horse sauntered off.
He’d finagled himself an entire weekend with Kami. The cost was back-breaking work in the hot sun, but worth it.
He’d earned a degree in restraint by the time Reba reached his house. The mare’s health was as important as his own, otherwise he’d run her through the ditches. To get back into her own pastures, she would’ve willing worked herself into a lather.
Reba was brushed and back grazing before he went in search of tools. He fired up his truck, attached the flatbed trailer, and pulled up to the tool shed. The Quonset and barns were for tractors and livestock, and all the guys had their own set of equipment. He ducked into the shed and located what he’d need.
The chainsaw got loaded, along with a two-gallon gas can, a reciprocating saw, an axe, a sledgehammer, and a wedge. Work gloves went into the cab with hearing protection and safety goggles he grimaced at. There had to be something better. He searched and finally found glasses that looked like clear sunglasses. Better. Just because he was a geek didn’t mean he had to look like one.
He glanced down at himself. Running to his house, he crashed inside and changed into his work clothes—beat-up jeans and a long-sleeved Carhartt pocketed T-shirt. Satisfied he was as protected as he could be, he rushed back to Kami’s place. The drive felt as long as the horse ride.
When he pulled in, she and her daughter were tugging and pulling at loose branches. They’d formed a nice pile with just them and a large pair of clippers.
Lining his truck and trailer next to the pile, he killed the engine and hopped out.
Kami stopped with the eight-foot branch she was hauling. “Since you didn’t take the hint, where do you want me to load this?”
He set about getting his gear on. He seated the goggles on top of his head and hooked the ear protection around his neck. He stuffed his hands into the work gloves. “Where you’ve got it. I’ll break down the trunk and large branches. We can stack the wood in the bed of the truck and pile the branches on top. Do you want to keep any for firewood?”
She slanted a look at him. “We don’t have a fireplace.”
“Fire pit?”
“Dad always used an empty barrel. It’s probably shoved in that barn somewhere.” She jutted her chin toward the decaying structure with the faded, weather-worn wood that displayed little of the red paint from its prime. “It’s a lost cause, don’t you think?”
“Most definitely. What we’d discussed was getting everything out of there before the next major storm toppled it and we had to dig it out.”
She nodded, her expression resigned. “Dad left some useful things behind, but there’s pure junk in there, too. He collected anything he thought would be worth money, then never sold it.” Her gaze switched to the pasture, her mouth pulling into a frown. “Kind of like those cars. But I think Mom got the money upfront.”
Yeah, Kami would have a full-time job for weeks just hauling old cars out of the pastures. With the right equipment and enough helpers, it’d take a few days.
“Give me a shout when you tackle those, too. I’d be glad to help.”
Kami stared at him. Behind her, Kambria had seized the break in work to twirl through the yard and do a cartwheel thing that lands like a flip. Just like her mother at that age.
“Why are you helping me, Travis? I cock-blocked your business expansion.”
Just his work, not him. He stared across the field in the direction his property lay and answered as honestly as he could without saying he was still crazy about her. “Because I can’t imagine anyone else owning my house. I would’ve had a hard time forgiving my parents if they had sold it out from under me.”
When his dad and four uncles sold the Walker Five farm and ranch operation, he and his cousins had all been in good places in their life. And they’d had each other. Kami had her daughter, who could run a push mower and was probably big enough to drive a riding lawn mower—if Kami owned one. The barn or garage could be hiding one, but now that he was close enough to see the piles of crap bulging against the door, it’d take weeks to sift through the stacks to find a mower underneath.
And Pam had probably sold it if it’d been any good.
She clapped the dust off her hands. “I can’t let you do it for free.”
The stubborn stance was back. His mind spun to come up with a deal that wouldn’t cost her money. “Food. Lunches and dinner. I’ll do breakfast tomorrow before I come back.”
She put her hands on her hips. He forced his gaze to stay on her face, not where her shirt pulled against her breasts. “That’s not an even trade.”
She’d never tasted his cooking. “Then I’ll take the wood, too. We can burn it during our family parties. And we like to have a stash on hand in case a blizzard knocks out power.”
“I thought you Walkers would all have generators.”
“It’s always good to have another backup during our winters.”
She shoved her hair off her face. Kambria was running toward the barn, chasing a cat. Kami glanced at him, then back to her daughter.
“Deal,” she said before she rushed off. “Kambria. Stay out of the barn!”
He followed, more out of curiosity. What had Earl done with that thing? No wonder he’d struggled with a dwindling herd if he didn’t have a good winter pasture and a barn to bring sick calves to rehab.
Kambria stopped her trek. “I know, Mom.”
“Yes, you know, but I don’t want you playing close to it, either. Do you hear that creaking?”
They all went quiet. The wind was only ten miles an hour, but faint groans emanated from inside.
“Fine.” Kambria dropped her head back and trudged away. Abruptly, she spun around. He jumped, but Kami didn’t flinch. “So did Travis talk to you about the horse ride?”
“Kambria,” Kami groaned.
Travis chuckled. He could’ve high-fived Kambria for bringing it up. “Absolutely. Since I’m taking the weekend off, why don’t we go when I finish tree clean up?”
“I couldn’t—”
“I have a horse for you, too,” he interrupted. “She’s not a barrel racer, but I think you two would get along.”
“Mom used to barrel race,” Kambria broke in.
“I remember,” he answered and grinned at Kami. “You have to promise not to challenge me to a race.”
Kami playfully scowled at him. “Then don’t ride past my practice ring and tell me what I’m doing wrong.”
He’d only suggested a few changes to her technique and within minutes they were lined up in her back forty, horses snorting, sensing the tension. He’d lost that race by more horse lengths than he could count.
If Kami had listened to him, she could’ve taken first at the Fourth of July rodeo. But she hadn’t, and it’d been her last race.
Was it how he said things that drove her off? Or did she become defensive when anyone gave her advice?
“Fine,” Kami muttered again. Kambria whooped and twirled off. Kami shot him a bemused expression and peered into the barn.
The door hung open, only attached by a bottom hinge. Must and old metal aromas wafted out. When she braced her arms on the frame and leaned to squint inside, he couldn’t keep his eyes off her shoulders. Her peach tank top molded against her body, exposing defined muscles in her arms and shoulders. The way her thighs filled out her jeans, he wouldn’t be surprised if she joined Kambria doing cartwheels and bridges.
She pushed off the door, muscle rippling through her shoulders. “I can’t even. So much work. I’m just going to worry about the tree first.”
Her hips swayed in her faded jeans as she made her way to their weekend project. He followed, content for the first time in…years.