Texas Ranch Justice. Karen Whiddon
the words. “But that means...”
“Yes, his doctor has certified that he probably has less than six months to live.”
“Damn.” Closing her eyes, she swayed. “I went through this with my mother.” When she opened them again, he was surprised to see the sheen of unshed tears. “It’s horrible,” she said, her mouth working. “And hard. So damn painful.”
“Yes. It is.” At the powerful urge to hold her and comfort her, he clenched his hands into fists, resisting. “Which is why someone—a total stranger—showing up claiming to be his daughter is the last thing he needs.”
“I disagree. He’s my father,” she insisted. “And I might be a stranger right now, but once he gets to know me, things will be different. We’re family.” She lifted her chin. “You know, everyone needs family, especially in times like these.”
He guessed she had no way of knowing that sounded exactly like something Hal might have said.
“I’m not getting through to you,” he began.
Crossing her arms, she stared at him, disappointment and confusion warring in her expression. “No, you’re not. I don’t see your point. If I can bring a little happiness to Hal when he’s so ill, then what’s the harm?”
“What do you get out of it?”
To his surprise, she considered his question seriously. “Me? Well, I missed out on having a father my entire life. I really want to get to know him while I can.”
Still, he couldn’t help but notice the way she said nothing about an inheritance. People just didn’t show up out of the blue at the very end of a formerly rich man’s life without a good reason. And in most, if not all, cases this reason was money.
His only consolation was that Hal was no fool. If anyone could be convinced to see through a shakedown, Travis would convince Hal. He’d done it before. He’d do it again.
“Don’t you have your own home to go to?” Another cruel question, another deliberate attempt to get her to reveal the truth. “I know you said your mother had recently died, but surely at your age, you’d long ago moved out.”
Rather than annoying her, this made her smile. “Like you have?” she asked. “Or is my impression that you still live on the premises entirely wrong?”
“Touché.” He gave a two-finger salute to the brim of his cowboy hat. “But I’m the ranch foreman and I live in the foreman’s quarters. Which is where the foreman always lives. In addition, I support my mother and my sister and her son. They moved in with me.”
She jerked her head in a nod. “You know, for someone who claims to care about Hal, you appear to be focused on the negatives. I think having me here will be good for him.”
“Maybe,” he allowed. “I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”
“Exactly. Until then, how about we call a truce?”
A truce. “I’ll think about it. How long are you planning on staying?”
The tension in her shoulders softened. “I don’t know. As long as he’ll have me.”
He nodded. “A truce it is.” He allowed himself a slight smile. “Since you’re going to be around here awhile, you’ll need to meet the rest of the family.”
“The rest of the family?”
Clearly, she hadn’t expected there to be others. He nearly laughed out loud. “Yes, there’s Hal’s ex-wife, my mother, Vivian. And my younger sister, Amber, and her son, Will. He’s five. As I mentioned, they all live with me.”
Her expression cleared. “That means I have extended family, sort of. I know you find this hard to believe, but I’m delighted.”
Delighted?
“You haven’t met them yet. Come on.” He reached a rapid decision. Maybe once she met the others, she’d realize it wouldn’t be so simple to scam the old man.
He held out his arm. “There’s no better time than the present.”
“Now?” She didn’t move. “You want me to meet them right now?”
“Sure, why not?” He gave her a look plainly daring her to chicken out. “You want family, you’ve got family. My house is on the property. It’s not far at all.”
Since he hadn’t really given her a choice, she took his arm. “I’d rather freshen up first,” she said.
“No need. They won’t be expecting you and even if they were, we don’t put on airs. We’re just down-home country people.” Sort of. His mother was an avid churchgoer who loved to gossip, drink, smoke and play bingo. His sister was...he didn’t know what. A vampire wannabe? And then there was his nephew, Will. Most awesome five-year-old ever. Travis loved that kid.
He took Scarlett over to his truck, opening the passenger side door and helping her climb up before going around to the driver’s side. She seemed slightly nervous, twisting her hands over and over in her lap. She didn’t speak again as he started the truck and they drove down the bumpy dirt road toward the part of the ranch where he lived.
The foreman’s house had once been the main ranch house, sixty some-odd years ago. Hal had been born in the rectangular wood-and-stone house. He had built his own house and moved out. His parents had lived there until their deaths, at which time Hal had decided to use the place for his ranch foreman. Travis was the third foreman to take up residence there. He’d had the place to himself for a couple of years before Hal and Vivian had divorced. These days, Vivian considered the place hers.
A few minutes later, they pulled up in the short gravel drive and he killed the engine. She didn’t move, not even to unbuckle her seat belt.
“Are you okay?” he asked quietly, resisting the utterly strange urge to reach out and cup her chin in his hand.
She blinked. “Sure.” Shooting him a brilliant smile, she unclipped her seat belt and opened the door.
Shaking his head, he got out after her. She waited at the end of the sidewalk, her shoulders back and her head held high. He got the strangest sense she was putting on an act, playing a role, though he didn’t know her well enough to say for sure.
Whatever. She’d need all the help she could get once Vivian got a hold of her.
At the front door, he glanced once more at Scarlett. She flashed him an eager smile, looking as if he was about to give her the best Christmas present in the history of the world.
Inhaling, he squared his shoulders and opened the door.
Once inside, the sound of the television blaring greeted them. Judge Judy or one of those other courtroom shows his mother and sister seemed to find so fascinating. But the small living room was empty.
Travis debated calling out, but Vivian hated being called Mom or Mother, so he didn’t. “Maybe they’re in the kitchen,” he said instead. They trooped into the kitchen, where his sister, Amber, sat at the table playing games on her phone. With black lipstick and fingernails, her fondness for heavy eyeliner and mascara, and bright red lipstick, she looked as out of place on the ranch as Scarlett did, though for entirely different reasons.
“Hey,” Travis said, resisting the urge to irritate her and ruffle her hair like he used to when they’d been younger.
“Hey,” she grunted, without even looking up.
“Where’s Will?”
At the sound of his name, the five-year-old dynamo rushed into the room, throwing himself at Travis’s legs. “Unca Travis!” he squealed.
Travis picked him up and swung him around. Will giggled, his brown eyes wide and excited. They grew even rounder when he caught sight of Scarlett when Travis set him back on his feet.
“Who