SHE WASN’T LOOKING FOR LOVE

Savannah Baron is determined to turn The Peach Pit from a simple roadside stand on her family’s Texas ranch into a bustling country store. She’s too busy with her business to even enter many rodeos anymore, let alone date. But when a health scare prompts her to search for her long-estranged mother, she discovers more than a helping hand in an old friend.

Soldier-turned-private investigator Travis Shepard never thought he’d move on after his wife’s tragic death, yet with Savannah, the walls he built around his heart begin to crumble away. But Savannah still faces a medical crisis and Travis can’t bear the idea of losing anyone else. Can he find the strength to love again?

“I had a good time tonight,” Travis said.

“Me, too.” Great, in fact. Savannah headed for the porch before she did something crazy like invite him to spend the night, and not on her couch this time. She already had too much on her mind. She didn’t need to add a serious relationship to the mix.

“Savannah?”

She turned and watched him walk slowly toward her, still looking too good to be true in the dim light. “Yeah?”

“You going to let me take you out again sometime?”

“Maybe.” Damn if her voice didn’t crack a little.

The wooden steps creaked as he climbed one then two, putting himself eye to eye with her. “I guess that’s better than a no.”

She smiled a little and realized her butterflies had returned with a vengeance. She started to turn away, but a voice inside her head screamed at her to not let him go. Not allowing the time to talk herself out of it, Savannah reached up and framed Travis’s face with her palms, heart racing as she looked up at him and gently drew him closer.

Dear Reader,

I hope you’re enjoying the story of the Baron family that was launched last month with Donna Alward’s The Texan’s Baby. I was happy to be able to write the story of another Baron sister, Savannah, who has left full-time barrel racing to put her efforts into her new passion, the farm store on her family’s Texas ranch. But when a health scare prompts her to begin searching for the mom who abandoned her, she doesn’t expect that search to bring her face-to-face with the love of her life. Private investigator Travis Shepard doesn’t expect love again after the loss of his first wife, but life has a funny way of throwing unexpected things—and people—into our paths.

We all fear loss, but it’s unfortunately a part of life. One of the biggest challenges we can face is finding the courage to love again after one of these losses. That’s what Savannah and Travis have to do to find their happily ever after. I hope you enjoy their journey.

And be sure not to miss The Texan’s Little Secret by Barbara White Daille next month. It’s the story of the third Baron sister, Carly, a big secret and a second chance at love. The Baron siblings’ stories will continue in the months following when talented authors Pamela Britton, Cathy McDavid and Tanya Michaels bring you more wonderful romances for the three Baron brothers.

Trish Milburn

The Texan’s Cowgirl Bride

Trish Milburn

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Trish Milburn writes contemporary romance for the Mills & Boon American Romance line and paranormal romance for the Mills & Boon Nocturne series. She’s a two-time Golden Heart Award winner, a fan of walks in the woods and road trips, and a big geek girl, including being a dedicated Whovian and Browncoat. And from her earliest memories, she’s been a fan of Westerns, be they historical or contemporary. There’s nothing quite like a cowboy hero.

Contents

Dear Reader,

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Extract

Chapter One

Savannah Baron hit Send on the online order form for more canning jars and scratched another item off her to-do list. She grabbed the separate list she’d made for Gina Shelton, her employee, and walked out of her small office into the kitchen area of the Peach Pit, the farm store she managed on her family’s large north Texas ranching and farming operation. She walked up next to where Gina was sliding a fresh batch of fried peach pies into the glass-fronted display counter next to the cash register.

“Ben and Juan will be in later with a few more bushels of peaches. Half of them are for fresh baskets, half for a new batch of preserves. Ingrid Tollemey will be by around four this afternoon to pick up the dozen pies for the church fair. And—”

Gina smiled and held up her hand. “You’re only going to be gone a couple of days, not a month.”

Savannah nodded, realizing she was micromanaging. She hated when she did that. “And you’ve done this before. Sorry. I get carried away.”

“It’s okay. But you better get going.”

Savannah looked at the clock and hurried back into her office to grab her keys. She was supposed to meet her friend and fellow barrel racer Abby Morgan in Mineral Wells in three hours for a weekend of rodeo. It was about a hundred-mile drive, but she still had to load Bluebell into the horse trailer and toss her luggage and gear into the truck.

She heard the front door open, but she let Gina take care of the new customer. But when the phone rang, Savannah blew out a breath and answered.

“Peach Pit. How can I help you?”

“Savannah, I need for you to come to the house,” her father said. “I’ve been going over the financials for your little store, and I have some concerns.”

“Now’s not a good time, Dad.” Not that anytime was going to be particularly good.

Since her dad had broken his leg during a senior rodeo and been laid up at home, he’d been driving everyone bonkers with his pronouncements about how they should all be doing their jobs differently, which meant the way he would do them. She’d bet good money he was even pointing out ways Anna, the family’s longtime housekeeper, could more efficiently vacuum or wash the dishes. If Savannah found a genie in a bottle who said he’d grant her only one wish, it would be to instantly heal her dad. Then he could go back to work at the Baron Energies company headquarters in Dallas or focus on anything other than her slice of the Baron pie.

“You can spare a few minutes. This won’t take long.”

The way he said it made her stomach knot. That didn’t sound good, not good at all.

“Just close up or leave that girl who works for you in charge.”

Savannah pressed her fingertips against the building ache in the middle of her forehead. “Gina, Dad. Her name is Gina. And I can’t come now. I’m about to load up and head to Mineral Wells.”

“It’s Friday already? Damn, weeks are getting shorter.”

No, he was just growing older and absolutely refusing to acknowledge it or slow down. That’s what had gotten him that nasty broken leg, thinking he could still rodeo like he had forty years earlier.

“I’ll see you when you get back,” he said.

Though if she were lucky, by the time she returned from Mineral Wells he would have moved on to bugging someone else. She loved her dad dearly, but he was a man who liked to put his stamp on everything, especially things that had the name Baron attached to them in any way.

Before he could say anything else, she hung up and headed for the door, waving to Gina as she passed her. She had the craziest fear that if she didn’t hurry, her dad would have someone roll him out in his wheelchair so he could talk business as she was loading up. And right now, she just wanted a weekend away to indulge her lifelong love of rodeo, hang out with a good friend and just maybe ogle a cute cowboy or two.

But ogling took a backseat to running barrels. She didn’t ride as much as she used to, but it was still in her blood. The power of Bluebell beneath her, the thrill of cutting as close to the barrels as she could without tipping them over, the desire to win.

Besides, as busy as she stayed at the ranch, when would she find time to squeeze in a date? No, she’d had her time having fun with cowboys on the circuit. Now, she was a businesswoman determined to be as successful in her new endeavor as she’d been during the height of her racing years.

The warmth of the late-morning sun hit her as she stepped out of the store and headed for her truck. The drive up to the barns didn’t take long, but it made her anxious nonetheless. She eyed the impressive stone-and-wood home where she’d grown up as she passed by, hoping her dad was already otherwise occupied.

She waved at Luke Nobel, the ranch manager, as she parked next to the barn. She hurried into the cooler interior, irrationally concerned that her dad would find a way of making her stay to discuss business. Now that he’d pretty much accepted that Lizzie, her older sister, was doing just fine temporarily filling his shoes at Baron Energies, her dad seemed to be searching for any way to assert that he was still the man in charge around the ranch, in their family.

A few minutes later as she guided Bluebell into the trailer, she finally began to relax a little. After all, if there was one thing her father loved as much as being a tough businessman, it was rodeo. Thus the broken leg.

She ran her hand down the sorrel mare’s neck. “You ready to race?”

As if she understood, Bluebell tossed her head in a way that looked as if she were nodding. Savannah smiled as she closed the gate on the trailer and headed toward the driver’s side of her truck. She’d ridden other horses in events before, but none had even come close to Bluebell’s natural ability. The mare seemed to thrive on the competition every bit as much as Savannah did.

Savannah slid into the truck and started the engine. “Well, girl, let’s show them how it’s done.”

As the miles ticked away, Savannah’s mind wandered from the upcoming competition back to the farm store. She was putting her heart and soul into the Peach Pit, building its offerings and reputation. She had big plans for the store, if only her dad would stop nitpicking. He ought to just be glad she was home more than she used to be. But since breaking his leg in that rodeo for old coots wanting to relive their glory days, he’d questioned everything from how she arranged the store’s products to the font on the sign.

If she were more like either of her sisters, she’d have told him to cut it out by now. But she wasn’t. No, while she wasn’t a pushover, she was the quietest of the three girls, the one who didn’t tend to raise a fuss. She didn’t like turmoil or contributing to it. There were already enough dynamic personalities in her family—her dad, Carly, her younger brother Jet—who were more than enough to fill that role of fuss-raiser. She just wanted to do her job, do it well, and enjoy time with her family, making up for all the time she’d spent on the road.

As the rodeo grounds finally came into view, she let those concerns fade away. She felt the familiar surge of excitement she always did on competition day. Sometimes she still missed traveling the circuit, but then she’d remember the times she’d been alone in some motel in Wyoming or California yearning for the comforting environs of her family’s ranch. After years of living and breathing rodeo, she’d scaled back. Now she competed about once a month, devoting the rest of her time to the Peach Pit, making a name for the store and herself with her peach- and pecan-flavored treats. The Barons were driven, and she was no different in that respect.

She made the turn into the area that held the outdoor arena and the expo center and spotted Abby’s rig. Since Abby was a full-time cowgirl with one national championship to her name and well on her way to another, she traveled with a nice horse trailer with living quarters. Sometimes her brother Aaron, a bareback and saddle bronc rider, would travel with her. This weekend, however, Aaron was home nursing a nasty case of the spring flu. So it was a girls’ weekend, just what Savannah needed.

Savannah smiled as she pulled up behind Abby’s trailer to find her friend kicked back under the pullout shade with a big glass of lemonade.

“About time you got here, girlfriend,” Abby said as Savannah slid from her truck.

“Some of us have other jobs, oh, lady of leisure.”

Abby laughed and hopped up to give Savannah a hug. “Want some lemonade?”

“In a bit. Need to let Bluebell work out the kinks first.”

Abby followed her to the back of Savannah’s trailer. “You have a run on peach pies? That why you’re late?”

Savannah glanced at her friend. “Just for that, you don’t get any of the one I brought.”

“Now that’s just mean.”

Savannah laughed, feeling more of her stress sliding away as she opened the trailer and got Bluebell out on solid ground. She led the mare away from the cluster of trucks and trailers, and Abby fell into step beside her.

“I just had to make sure I’d taken care of everything before I left for the weekend. And then Dad called as I was trying to get out the door.”

“Still a thorn in your side?”

Savannah gave her friend an exasperated look. Abby had always thought the elder Baron should “take a chill pill.”

“He’s just frustrated because he can’t go to work. He’s bored.”

“Brock Baron and boredom. That’s a bad combo.”

While Savannah had to agree, she also felt as if she had to defend her dad. He might drive them all crazy in turns, might be a trifle too demanding, but he was a good father. Sometimes you just had to look a little deeper to find it under all the gruff exterior.

“As soon as he’s able to go back to work, things will get better.”

“When will that be?”

“Don’t know yet.” Not soon enough. “A break like that isn’t an easy thing at his age. To hear him tell it, the physical therapist is going to kill him first.”

After Savannah tied up Bluebell next to Abby’s blond mare, Rosie the Pivoter, she accepted a cold glass of lemonade and sank into the lawn chair next to Abby’s. As soon as she was seated, she laughed.

“What?”

“I just realized why you parked here.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” But the mischievous look on her face said otherwise.

Savannah snorted. “So you didn’t park strategically so you could check out every cowboy who strolls in and out of the barn?”

“Oh, I guess it is a good view.”

Savannah shook her head and took a big, refreshing drink of her lemonade. “So, when are you going to decide which of these guys you want to stick with?”

“And miss out on the fun of keeping them all guessing? You know, I could ask you the same thing, Miss Queen of the Peach Farm. You could have anyone you wanted, or maybe you’ve got your eye on a peach-picking farmer.”

Savannah gave a short laugh at the idea of falling for anyone who worked on the produce farm, even the entire ranch. They were too old, too young, or married. Well, Luke was good-looking, but she couldn’t imagine thinking of him as anything more than a friend.

“I have my hands full without throwing a guy in the mix.”

“Yeah, right. I saw you eyeballing Cannon Russell earlier.”

“Doesn’t hurt to look a little.” And Cannon, one of the bull riders, certainly wasn’t hard to look at. A long, lean, bull-riding machine. Of course, she wasn’t the only one looking. He always had a gaggle of buckle bunnies following him around like a swarm of mosquitoes looking for a taste.

Still, Savannah couldn’t stop looking at all the guys. She blamed her sister Lizzie. After all, how could she be around Lizzie and her fiancé, Chris, see how crazy in love they were and not be affected?

“I’d give him a seven.”

Savannah pulled herself back from her thoughts and shifted her gaze to Abby. “Seven? Are you blind? He’s at least an eight and a half, probably a nine.”

“I like to leave a bit of a window on the top end of the scale in case someone ever really knocks my socks off.”

They fell into assigning hotness numbers to every cowboy who walked by. When Abby started calling out the numbers loud enough that the cowboys in question could hear them, Savannah wanted to crawl under her hat. When Cannon strolled by and Abby hollered, “Seven and a half,” Savannah shushed her and swatted her on the arm. Abby just hooted.

Savannah shook her head and called out, “Don’t mind her. Tourette’s.”

Cannon laughed a little then headed off to talk with some of the other bull riders.

“I don’t know why I hang out with you,” Savannah said.

“Because you love me.”

“So you think.”

Abby laughed again and climbed into her living quarters to get ready for the evening’s ride. Savannah downed the rest of her lemonade before grabbing her bag to change clothes, too.

When they both emerged from the trailer, the grandstands were filling up and the smell of grilling hamburgers permeated the air. Savannah’s stomach growled, but she rarely ate anything close to when she was supposed to ride. Her dinner usually came in the slice of time between when she finished riding and the bull riding event started.

They headed toward the back curve of the arena next to the grandstands, chatting with other competitors along the way.

“Mmm-mmm, your boyfriend is looking good tonight.” Abby nodded toward where Cannon was standing with Liam Parrish, a former bronc rider who now ran the company that provided the rough stock and staff for the rodeo.

“You know, the way you keep finding him, I think you might be the one who has the hots for him.”

“Not gonna lie. I wouldn’t mind sampling his wares, but I’m not fighting the gauntlet of bunnies to do so.”

“Savannah?”

She turned at her name to see a good-looking man standing a few feet away. Tall, nicely built and wearing the ubiquitous cowboy hat, jeans and boots. But he wasn’t part of the rodeo. She’d been around rodeo competitors for enough years to be able to peg one. Something about him seemed familiar, though, but she couldn’t quite place it.

He tipped his tan Stetson back a bit, revealing more of his close-cropped auburn hair and light eyes. “Travis Shepard.”

“Oh, hey.” She smiled and moved in for a quick hug, noticing that Travis had changed a good bit since she’d last seen him. Taller, built more like a man than a teenage boy, and, wow, he’d certainly grown into a looker. Suddenly feeling uncharacteristically awkward at that thought, she stepped back from him. “How long has it been?”

“A while.”

Several years, in fact. She hadn’t seen him since right after he’d gotten married and was about to ship out with the army overseas. A lot had changed since then. He’d lost his wife and had traded the military for a private investigator’s license. A flicker of something in his eyes made her wonder if he’d just had a similar thought.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

He nodded toward the arena. “Came to watch my niece Hailey. She’s riding in the mutton busting.”

“Really? Last time I saw her and Rita, Hailey was still a baby.”

“She’s six now, and Rita’s pregnant again.”

Abby cleared her throat, drawing Savannah’s attention. When she saw the look of appreciation on Abby’s face, Savannah fought the unexpected urge to step in between her two friends, to protect Travis even though from the looks of him he was perfectly capable of taking care of himself. After all, he’d been a soldier.

“Travis and I went to high school together,” Savannah said.

She shifted her gaze to Travis, who had taken a couple of steps closer, allowing her to see his eyes better, remember the pretty pale blue. Even when he’d been an awkward teen, he’d had those striking eyes.

“Travis, this is my friend Abby. She’s another barrel racer.”

Travis smiled and nodded. “I think I’ve seen you ride before.”

“You go to a lot of rodeos?” Abby asked, interest in her voice.

“A few, the nearby ones when Hailey is riding.” He shifted his gaze to Savannah. “I won’t be surprised if she follows in your footsteps. That girl came out of the womb loving animals and not afraid of anything.”

“Sounds more like my sister Carly than me.”

Travis grinned. “I don’t know. I seem to remember you having no fear getting on a horse that was twice as tall as you were.”

He remembered her that far back? Guilt squirmed inside her that she couldn’t remember him earlier than their sophomore year. Of course, she’d been all about rodeo then and probably wouldn’t have noticed him if he’d strolled by her wearing blinking lights.

The announcer welcomed everyone to the night’s events and got the ball rolling with the opening ceremonies. As Abby and Savannah turned toward the arena for the national anthem, Travis took up a spot next to Savannah. While she should be concentrating on the words to the song and the gently waving American flag being held by the rodeo queen in the middle of the arena, she caught herself glancing out of the corner of her eye at Travis. They’d known each other for years. Why was he suddenly making her all jittery? That was just weird.

She couldn’t be attracted to Travis.

Well, why not? She’d been attracted to plenty of guys and never let them know. And though she’d only been talking to him for a handful of minutes, one glance had been enough to show her that the grown-up Travis Shepard was going to turn a lot more female heads than the teenage Travis Shepard ever had.

When the flag bearers left the arena, Savannah shifted her weight. “We should go get ready for our rides.”

Instead of moving toward where they’d left the horses, however, Abby propped her foot up on the lowest rail of the fence surrounding the arena and shot Savannah a knowing grin. “We’ve got plenty of time. We’re next to last.”

Left with no choice but to join her friend or be obvious about the fact she was trying to get away from suddenly-too-attractive Travis, she leaned her arms along the top of the fence and watched as the little kids were led out on the opposite side of the arena.

“Hard to believe we were ever that little, isn’t it?” Travis said from beside her.

“Yeah.” Wow, way to be a sterling conversationalist, monosyllabic and everything. But how was she supposed to think clearly when she’d swear she could feel his body heat radiating toward her? She was going to kill Lizzie for putting all those gooey, romantic thoughts in her head.

And then it got worse when Travis leaned close and pointed at a little girl wearing a lime-green Western-style shirt and a mini white cowgirl hat.

“That’s Hailey.”

“Aww, she’s adorable.” Look at that, an actual coherent sentence. Maybe the shock of seeing the grown-up version of Travis was beginning to wear off.

They all watched as the first little boy started on his sheep ride only to fall into the dirt about a second later. The next boy did a bit better but not much. The story stayed pretty much the same through three more kids, and then it was Hailey’s turn.

“Come on, Hailey,” Travis called out then whistled.

Savannah couldn’t help but smile at Travis’s obvious support of his niece. If Corinne had lived, would he have some little tykes of his own by now? She shook off the sad memory of Corinne’s death and refocused on Hailey. The pint-size girl dug her fingers into the sheep’s wool and hugged her body close to its back. As soon as the man holding the sheep let go, the animal took off in an attempt to rid itself of Hailey. But unlike the kids before her, Hailey stuck like glue the full eight seconds and even a few more before she let go. When she hit the dirt, she rolled back up onto her feet and waved at the cheering crowd.

Abby leaned forward and spoke past Savannah to Travis. “That girl’s got spunk.”

Travis smiled wide, every inch the proud uncle. If he’d been good-looking before, that smile made him devastatingly handsome. Either a miracle of genetics had happened in the past few years, or Savannah had just been blind to anything but her twin goals of good grades and top rodeo times back when she and Travis had crossed paths every day. He hadn’t been ugly, but she’d had no inkling that he would one day steal her breath.

They all clapped when Hailey got her blue ribbon.

“Well, I owe a little cowgirl a congratulations kiss,” Travis said as Savannah stepped back from the fence.

Damn if her gaze didn’t go right to his lips, and her mind to wondering what they would feel like against her own.

Travis met her gaze just as she jerked hers away from his lips.

“Good luck with your run,” he said.

“Thanks.”

“What, I don’t get a ‘good luck’?” Abby teased.

Travis broke eye contact with Savannah. “Good luck to you, too, but I gotta admit I’ll be pulling for my hometown girl.”

A flutter of giddiness zipped through Savannah at the knowledge that not only would Travis be watching her ride, but he’d also be cheering for her. It took a remarkable amount of effort for her to not smile like an idiot, especially when Travis shifted his gaze back to her. Yeah, she needed a good, swift kick or maybe a jolt from a cattle prod.

“It was good to see you again,” he said.

“You, too. Tell Rita I said hello, and tell Hailey she’s a mighty good rider.”

He nodded but then seemed to hesitate for an extra long moment, almost as if he didn’t want to leave, before nodding and walking away.

“Whooee, that is one fine specimen right there,” Abby said.

Savannah took a moment to bite down on an uncharacteristic comeback that would have sent up red flags for Abby. Heck, the entire grandstand full of people would see those bright flags waving.

Thing was, as she watched Travis walk away, she realized Abby wasn’t wrong. He was indeed a fine, fine hunk of man.

“Is he seeing anyone?”

Savannah shrugged, not trusting herself to not tell her friend to back off. She had no right to claim Travis Shepard, not when she’d told Abby she was too dang busy to date. At least not until she’d built the store into the destination she wanted it to be. She’d proven in the past that success required single-minded focus.

What about Lizzie? She was successful, the acting head of the family’s large energy company, and still had time for falling in love and starting a family.

Yeah, and she had a lot more employees at her beck and call. And she wasn’t building Baron Energies from the ground up.

When Abby started giggling, Savannah finally tore her gaze away from Travis’s retreating form. “What?”

“Hope he likes drool,” Abby said as she made a circular motion with her finger toward Savannah’s mouth. “Because you’ve got a bloodhound slobber situation going on.”

“I do not.”

“Really? Let’s ask the crowd.” Abby made as if she was going to call out a question to the people sitting in the grandstands.

Savannah spun on her heel, gave her friend a playful slug in the arm, and headed toward Bluebell. And she’d never admit in a million lifetimes how difficult it was to not glance over her shoulder and scan the crowd for Travis. Abby didn’t need any more ammunition. And Savannah didn’t need to have images in her head of Travis rewarding her for posting a good time with a congratulations kiss of her own.

Chapter Two

Travis fought the urge to look back over his shoulder as he walked away from Savannah. Maybe if he ignored the buzzy tug of attraction he’d felt toward her, it would go away. It wasn’t the first time he’d been drawn toward Savannah, but he wasn’t that smitten boy anymore. And he didn’t want to feel anything other than friendship toward her or any other woman.

Besides, he doubted his attraction would end any differently than it had all those years ago. After all, back in high school her focus had been on rodeo and family to the exclusion of everything else. Considering where they were, he’d venture a guess that hadn’t changed.

Not that it mattered. Savannah Baron might not have changed, but he had. When they’d been teenagers, he couldn’t have imagined the pain and turmoil he had ahead of him, the anger that still accompanied him every day even though he did his best to hide it.

He shoved those hard memories and thoughts of Savannah away as he drew close to his own family. He walked up behind Hailey and lifted her into his arms.

“Hey there, cowgirl. Got a kiss for your favorite uncle?”

Hailey giggled. “You’re my only uncle, silly.”

“Guess that means I have to be your favorite, huh?”

Hailey leaned over and gave him a big, smacking smooch on the cheek.

“Who were you talking to?” Rita asked as she tucked Hailey’s big blue ribbon into her purse.

“Savannah Baron and a friend of hers.”

“I haven’t seen Savannah in forever.”

“Yeah. She said it was when this squirt was a baby.” He tickled Hailey’s ribs, making her squirm to get away. With a laugh, he set his niece on her feet. She immediately ran over to talk to one of her friends who’d competed in the mutton busting, too.

“So, how is she?” Rita asked. “Still single?”

Travis knew that tone and shook his head at his sister.

“What does that mean? She’s not single?”

“It means you can stop those matchmaking thoughts you’re having.”

Rita crossed her arms. “Why? You liked her once upon a time.”

“That was a long time ago. A lot has happened since then. We’re not the same people we were then.”

“Sure you are, just older and with more experiences.”

“Listen, I know you’re just looking out for me, doing the big-sister thing, but I don’t need dating advice.”

“Because you’re not dating.” A tinge of sadness enveloped her words and shadowed her eyes when she looked up at him.

“No, I’m not.” And he had no intention of changing that. Every time he thought about it, his heart got jerked back to the happy days he’d spent with Corinne and how they’d been ripped away in a split second. Going through that once was heart-wrenching. Not just that he’d lost Corinne but how he’d lost her. And the fact he’d lost what might have been—children, a long and happy life together. He wasn’t exactly chomping at the bit to set himself up for that kind of pain again. Taking that chance just wasn’t worth it.

But damned if his gaze didn’t drift across the arena, searching for Savannah anyway.

“You know Corinne wouldn’t want you to spend the rest of your life alone. You were much too young when she passed and you have a lot of years ahead of you.”

Of course, she couldn’t know that. His life could be snuffed out tomorrow, as quickly and unexpectedly as Corinne’s had been. But he wouldn’t say that and hurt her, especially when Hailey was nearby and might hear. Despite the harsh reality of the world, he wanted nothing more than to keep that away from Hailey for as long as he could.

Wanting to change the subject, he glanced at Rita. “Would you like something from the concession stand?”

Rita let her breath out slowly but didn’t pursue the original topic further. “Grab us a couple of burgers and lemonades.”

Thankful for the break from his sister’s scrutiny, he made his way through the crowd. But leaving behind what Rita had said proved more difficult. There was no denying he’d been immediately attracted to Savannah, a pull he hadn’t felt in a long time. Didn’t want to feel. Was it even possible for him to move on? Would it be fair to a woman when a chunk of him still clung to the hope of vengeance against the man who’d killed Corinne? That was an ugliness he just couldn’t shed, and he doubted Savannah or any other woman would find it appealing.

As he stood in the concession line, he shifted his gaze toward the end of the arena. He couldn’t see Savannah, but maybe that was a good thing. What were the chances she was single anyway? She was nice, beautiful, talented and from a well-to-do family. That seemed like a recipe for having guys lined up around the corner.

“What can I get for you?”

Travis jerked his attention back to the woman working the concession stand window. He needed to forget about Savannah Baron now the same way he had when he’d been a hormonal teenager fumbling every attempt to tell her how he felt.

But as he carried the food and drinks back to the grandstand, he began to realize forgetting the second time might not be any easier than it had been the first. Savannah Baron wasn’t the type of woman you forgot easily.

* * *

“SO, I THINK you need to hunt down Travis after your ride and ask him out,” Abby said as she and Savannah prepped Rosie and Bluebell for their rides.

“That will not be happening.”

“Why not? He’s hot.”

That he was. “Be that as it may, I wouldn’t feel right about it.”

“Why the heck not? If you’re too shy to do it, I can ask for you.”

Savannah propped her hand on her hip. “What is this, third grade?”

“Pretty sure those kind of sparks don’t fly in third grade.”

“There were no sparks.”

“Oh, yeah, there were definite sparks. I’m somewhat of an expert on the subject.”

Savannah rolled her eyes. “Just because you date a lot doesn’t make you an expert on everyone else’s love life.”

“Maybe not, but I’ve known you long enough to know that you were interested.”

Savannah laughed. “Earlier you were convinced I was head over heels for Cannon.”

“There’s a difference between appreciation and interest.”

Savannah laid her palm against Bluebell’s neck and stroked the animal. “It wouldn’t feel right. Travis lost his wife a few years ago. She was shot in a convenience store holdup.”

The teasing fell away from Abby’s face. “That’s awful.”

“Yeah, and he wasn’t even here. He was stationed overseas with the army. I can’t imagine how horrible it was for him.”

Abby glanced toward the crowd watching the tie-down roping as if she could spot Travis among them. “So maybe he could use another friend?”

Though Abby wasn’t being callous, Savannah should have known her friend wouldn’t give up so easily.

“I’m sure he has friends.” Before Abby could say anything else, Savannah pulled herself up into the saddle and guided Bluebell away. If she had any hope of making a good ride, Savannah needed a few minutes to clear her head of thoughts of Travis, the tragedy he’d lived through and the unwise attraction she’d felt toward him.

By the time the barrel racing began, she’d managed to partially clear her head. But she couldn’t help a glance at the grandstand, wondering if Travis was sitting among the crowd.

She forced her focus back to the competitors ahead of her. For the next several minutes, she needed nothing else to matter beyond working with Bluebell to make a good, safe ride.

Two spots ahead of her, Abby prepared for her run. Savannah held Bluebell steady as Abby sped into the arena, guiding Rosie expertly around the barrels, shaving precious microseconds off her time. Cheers rang out from the grandstands for Abby, a crowd favorite. As she rounded the last barrel, Abby urged Rosie toward the finish. It struck Savannah that Abby’s and Rosie’s expressions of determination weren’t all that different. They worked as one seamless unit all the way through and beyond the finish line.

Savannah scratched Bluebell between the ears and leaned forward. “Almost time, girl. Let’s show Abby and Rosie we can still give them a run for their money.”

As Tanya Gonzales made her ride, Savannah took several slow, calming breaths. When Tanya cut the last corner too close and knocked over the barrel, Savannah did her best to push that negative image out of her mind.

When Tanya finished her run and the overturned barrel was righted, Savannah took one last, fortifying breath then kicked Bluebell into a gallop. The horse responded immediately, knowing exactly what to do.

They flew around the first two barrels as if Bluebell had wings and her feet weren’t even touching the ground. Sensing a good time, one to rival Abby’s, Savannah urged Bluebell to fly even faster. The dirt of the arena, the white fencing, the crowd beyond—it was all a blur as they raced the clock.

Excitement surged through Savannah’s veins. This had always been when she felt most free, most in control of her life, as if she was astride Pegasus and letting the world fall away below her.

They rounded the final barrel, and the image of Tanya knocking over the barrel shot to the front of Savannah’s thoughts. Before she could prevent it, she stiffened, throwing off the delicate balance between Bluebell and herself.

Savannah gasped as she felt one of Bluebell’s feet slip on the loose dirt. In the next moment, she tipped sideways. It all happened so fast, she was helpless to catch herself. One moment she was having a fantastic ride. In the next, she toppled sideways, hitting the barrel with her ribs. She tried in vain to extricate herself, but she ended up on the ground, her leg pinned beneath Bluebell’s heaving body.

Pain shot through Savannah’s left side, causing tears to well in her eyes. Before she could catch her breath, she was surrounded by cowboys and Jonesy, the bullfighter.

“Hang on,” Jonesy said.

She still fought to take a deep breath as the guys pulled her free of Bluebell. Thankfully, the horse got to her feet.

“Is she okay?” It hurt to speak, but she had to know if Bluebell was injured.

“She looks fine,” said Logan Bradshaw, one of the newer pickup guys. “But we’ll get her checked.”

She blinked a few times against fuzzy vision, and then a paramedic was there checking her for broken bones and signs of concussion.

“I didn’t hit my head,” she managed to say. “But my side hurts like the devil.”

The cowboys made a circle around her as the paramedic pulled up the side of her shirt and examined her ribs. “I don’t see any obvious breaks, but you need to get an X-ray. And you’ll have some nasty bruising.”

Please just let it be a bruise. She hated the idea of having broken ribs, especially with her dad already at the ranch nursing his own rodeo injuries.

After the paramedic was satisfied it was safe to move her, Jonesy and one of the tie-down ropers helped her to her feet.

Jonesy plunked her hat back on her head. “I can think of better ways to get a bunch of guys’ attention.”

She laughed a little and immediately regretted it as pain shot from her side through her middle to her back like a hot poker. “Ah, damn you, Jonesy.”

“Sorry.”

Though she felt as if she’d been dropped off the top of a building, she managed to exit the arena under her own power, if a bit slowly. When the crowd started cheering, she gingerly raised her right hand in acknowledgment. Again, even in the midst of her pain, she wondered if Travis was among them or if he’d gone home after meeting up with Hailey and Rita.

Part of her hoped he’d left. This wasn’t exactly her finest moment.

As she exited the arena, Abby was there to meet her. “Damn, girl, you scared me half to death.”

“Can’t say I want to repeat it myself.”

The paramedic tried to guide her toward the ambulance.

“I don’t need to ride in the ambulance. Someone else might need it more. I’ll just drive to the hospital.”

“You really shouldn’t be driving, not until you’re fully checked out.”

“I’ll take her,” Abby said as they reached the back end of the livestock pens.

“No, I need you to take care of Bluebell, make sure she’s okay.”

“You heard what the man said,” Abby protested. “You took a nasty fall, and you don’t need to drive until we see if your brain got knocked loose.”

“I can take her.”

They looked toward the sound of the male voice. Yep, Travis Shepard stood just beyond the pens. Well, she guessed that answered her question of whether he’d left.

Savannah’s heart rate kicked up a couple of notches.

“That’s not necessary.”

“But it’s going to happen anyway.” Instead of the boy she’d known, he sounded every inch the army man he’d once been, brooking no argument.

Honestly, she didn’t want to argue. She wanted to get the trip to the hospital over with so she could take a hot shower and lie down.

She nodded. “Thank you.” Then she shifted her gaze toward where the vet was examining Bluebell.

“Don’t worry,” Abby said. “We’ll take good care of her. You just take care of yourself. And if you need me, call.”

Abby nodded then allowed Travis to take her arm to steady her as he guided her out into the field of parked vehicles.

“Sorry to bother you like this,” she said.

“It’s no bother. What are old friends for?”

“But you don’t get to see the rest of the rodeo.”

“Savannah, I’ve been to more rodeos than I can count. And I saw everything I was interested in at this one anyway.”

She told herself that he was simply referring to Hailey’s ride on the sheep, but a part of her that she fully blamed Abby for wondered if he might be including her in his statement, as well. If so, he was probably mighty disappointed at the moment.

When they reached his SUV, he opened the passenger door and helped her climb in. She winced against the pain, unable to hide it. Once she was seated, she let her head drop back and took a deep breath. But when she felt Travis’s hands move close, she jerked upright, causing fresh pain to slice through her.

Travis placed his palm against her shoulder. “Hey, careful. I’m just getting the seat belt.”

She felt like a fool for her overreaction, but he simply went about pulling the seat belt across her torso and fastening it, acting as if he hadn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary. She wanted to thank him for that but didn’t want to draw any more attention to the fact that he made her jumpy.

Honestly, she didn’t know why he made her so on edge. They’d known each other for years, even if they hadn’t spoken for the past several.

She imagined a miniature version of herself sitting on her shoulder shaking her head. “Of course you know why,” her tiny clone said. “He’s as hot as a barbecue on the Fourth of July, and you haven’t had a real date in way too long.”

Savannah closed her eyes, trying to shove the words away. She hoped Travis chalked it up to her being in pain, and not anything to do with his nearness. She suddenly wished she could snap her fingers and transport herself back to the safety and solitude of her apartment above the Peach Pit. There she didn’t have to deal with physical pain and a jittery, most unexpected attraction that had thrown her for a loop.

In the distance, she heard the rodeo announcer call the name of the first bull riding contestant followed by enthusiastic cheers from the crowd. Bull riding always came last because it was the most popular of the rodeo events. Normally, she’d be sitting in the stands, too, chomping down on a cheeseburger. Now all she could think about was not breathing too deeply and the fact that she was being hauled to the hospital by a guy who made her heart beat way faster than average. This was not how she’d envisioned her night going.

She grunted as he eased his vehicle out of the field.

“Sorry. I’m being as careful as I can,” he said.

“I know.” Still, she was grateful when he pulled out onto smoother pavement.

“If it makes you feel any better, you were looking good to beat Abby’s time before the slip.”

She opened one eye as she rolled her head toward him. “Not really.”

He smiled, and her heart gave an extra thump as if she didn’t already know that Travis Shepard was a very good-looking man.

“What happened?”

“Just lost my concentration for a split second. That’s all it takes.” She just hoped that the momentary lapse hadn’t cost her Bluebell. Sure, the horse had walked out of the arena, but Savannah wouldn’t rest easy until the veterinarian gave her mare a clean bill of health. To be such powerful animals, horses were also fragile, more so than even their human riders.

It didn’t take long to reach the hospital, but Savannah felt every bump on the way. The pain ricocheted through her body each time the truck hit one.

She didn’t move, not even when Travis came around to her side of the vehicle and opened the door.

“Can’t I just sit here for the rest of the night?”

“I’d guess they’re not going to wheel the X-ray machine out to the parking lot.”

“Well, that’s mighty inconsiderate of them.”

Travis chuckled then reached across her to unbuckle her seat belt. Thankfully, this time she didn’t jump at his close proximity. Maybe her brain was finally remembering she wasn’t normally so jumpy around men. She was a grown woman who was around guys all the time—farm workers, her brothers, rodeo cowboys.

But none of them came to her rescue like a knight in shining armor, did they?

Oh, for Pete’s sake, he’d driven her to the hospital. Any decent human being would have done the same thing. She seriously needed that hot shower, some ibuprofen and about twelve hours of uninterrupted sleep.

She did her best not to grunt or wince as Travis helped her out of the truck, but her efforts proved futile.

Savannah leaned on his arm more than she wanted to as he helped her toward the E.R. entrance, but she wanted to collapse onto the sidewalk even less. “You had to have better things to do on a Friday night.”

“Nah. This is way more exciting than my normal Friday night.”

She glanced up at him. “That is one sad state of affairs right there.”

Travis laughed. “Don’t I know it.”

Despite her pain, she managed to elbow him a little bit for his teasing.

Once inside, he helped her to the check-in desk where she was finally able to lean against something other than Travis’s distracting warmth. Thankfully, the E.R. was next to empty, and they took her straight back. She glanced over her shoulder in time to see Travis grab a magazine from the rack and settle himself on one of the institutional chairs that was probably about as comfortable as sitting on a boulder.

She gritted her teeth through every movement, but she still didn’t think anything was broken. She’d had broken bones before. In fact, the bad break of her wrist that she’d suffered several years ago while riding in Cheyenne had led to her always carrying her ID and medical insurance card in her back pocket, even while she was riding. She didn’t want a repeat of having to sit in an emergency room waiting for someone to bring her proof of insurance to her before she could get treated.

As she waited for the X-ray results, her stomach startled grumbling, reminding her that she hadn’t had anything to eat since she’d left home hours ago. But she was also so tired that she thought there was a pretty good chance she would fall face-first into any plate placed in front of her. At the moment, she’d give up her slice of the Baron inheritance for a candy bar.

She’d finally found a position that was remotely comfortable to sit in when the doctor came into the exam room.

“Good news,” he said. “No cracked or broken bones. You do, however, have deep bruising that’s going to hurt for a while.”

“That I figured out.”

He smiled. “You’re very lucky because there’s also no sign of concussion.”

“I’ve taken enough falls over the years to know to protect my head.”

“Just get some rest and take it easy until you heal. Take over-the-counter painkillers as needed.”

After thanking the doctor, she headed out to the waiting room to find a pretty nurse talking to Travis. When he spotted Savannah, he looked happy to see her.

“My friend is finished,” he said as Savannah approached him.

When the nurse turned and saw her, the petite blonde’s features showed disappointment before she returned her attention to Travis. “If you’re ever in Mineral Wells again, give me a call.”

Travis didn’t respond other than to show the nurse a small smile.

Savannah resisted the crazy urge to tell the nurse to scoot as if she was a nosy cat. “Looks like you made a friend while I was gone,” she teased.

He made a sound deep in his throat that told her he was way less interested in the conversation with the nurse than the nurse had been.

Savannah smiled. “I’ve heard of picking up dates in bars, even at church, but never an E.R. waiting room.”

Travis glanced past Savannah then tossed what looked like a business card in the trash. Savannah swallowed any more teasing when she wondered if his resistance to the nurse’s advances had more to do with the loss of his wife than anything about the nurse.

Travis bent to retrieve a white paper bag from the burger place down the street.

“If that is for me, you are my new best friend.”

“A burger and fries is all it takes? What does the milkshake get me?”

“A homemade peach pie?”

He nodded. “I call that a good deal.”

Her stomach growled again, louder than before.

Travis laughed. “Sounds like I was just in time.”

She pointed toward the bag. “Oh, give me that and hush.”

She took the first big bite of her burger as they walked out the door of the E.R. A slurp of the chocolate milkshake followed as Travis’s phone rang.

He glanced at the screen and made a “hmm” sound that told her he didn’t know who it was. “Hello?”

She nabbed a couple of seasoned fries from the bag as Travis listened to someone say something on the other end of the call.

“Okay.” He extended the phone to her. “It’s for you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah. It’s your dad.”

Chapter Three

Savannah cursed under her breath. Even before she accepted the phone from Travis, she knew someone had reported back to her dad that she’d been hurt. Sometimes it seemed as if Brock Baron had Big Brother–style eyes everywhere. It proved useful in business but was frustrating if you were his daughter.

“Dad? Why are you calling this number?”

“Because you won’t answer your phone.”

“It’s back in Abby’s trailer.”

“And you’re at the hospital, something you failed to mention to your family.”

Figured she’d get hurt at the one rodeo where none of her brothers or Carly was competing.

She stopped walking and had to keep herself from tossing the bag holding her dinner in frustration. “I was a little busy getting an X-ray. And before you ask, I’m fine. Just a bruise.”

A monster bruise, but her dad didn’t have to know that.

“Why are you with Travis Shepard instead of medical professionals?”

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before she let fly what part of her wanted to say, the part that she always held at bay. “Because I didn’t think a bruise warranted an ambulance ride, especially when the bull riding is much more likely to cause serious injuries that would require an ambulance. I’m fine.”

“I can send someone to get you.”

“No. I’m here to spend the weekend with Abby.”

“You’re not riding hurt.”

She bit her lip because he would have never said that to her brothers. “No, I won’t be riding tomorrow, but I can cheer on Abby, hang out with my friends.”

Her dad didn’t immediately respond, and she wondered if for once he was holding back saying what he was thinking. It was very unlike him, but she didn’t want to tempt fate by pointing that out.

“As long as you’re sure that you’re okay,” he finally said.

“I am. Sore, but okay. You know it’s not the first time I’ve taken a spill.”

“Come see me when you get home.”

He might want to assure himself she was truly not badly hurt, but she couldn’t help but wonder if he also was using the opportunity to talk to her about the store. What little she’d eaten grew heavy in her stomach.

When the call ended, she handed the phone back to Travis.

“You all right?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“I’ve got the feeling I should hire your dad to help me track down people.”

“Oh, please do. Obviously, it’s something he can do while laid up. Keep him busy.”

When Travis gave her a questioning look, she explained. “He was injured several weeks ago in a senior rodeo, so he can’t go to work. And let’s just say that he doesn’t do well with boredom.”

“Ah. But you’re gone a lot, right?”

She shook her head as he opened the car door for her. “I don’t ride as much as I used to. I run the farm store on the ranch.”

“Well, you obviously haven’t suffered much for not riding as often.”

“Ha. You seem to have forgotten the part about me crashing and burning tonight.”

Travis shrugged. “We all slip at some point.”

“So you have a great P.I. boo-boo story?”

Travis helped her into the SUV and automatically reached for the seat belt. “I do.”

“Can it beat falling off a horse in front of hundreds of people?”

“Does following a fugitive and having half a dozen Rottweilers trap you in a tree count?”

The image made her giggle. She lifted her hand to her mouth. “Sorry. What did you do?”

“Before or after I had to call 911 to get help?”

This time she snorted.

“That’s it. I’m taking back the milkshake.” He reached for it.

“Oh, no, you don’t.” She pulled the cup out of his reach. A stab of pain in her side caused her to gasp.

“Sorry.” Travis placed his hand on her jean-clad leg. “I didn’t mean to make you hurt yourself.”

“It’s okay.” Savannah tried not to focus on the feel of his warm hand against her thigh. He wasn’t squeezing or pressing down, but she still sensed his strength. And felt an odd tingle, as if his flesh were touching hers.

“If it makes you feel better, you can pour the milkshake over my head,” he said.

She forced her focus off the weight of his hand and lifted a brow. “And waste a perfectly good milkshake?”

“Saved by a sweet tooth.” Travis smiled as he backed away from her and shut the door.

She tried not to think about how she was simultaneously glad he’d removed his hand while also missing the connection. Jeez, maybe the doctor had been wrong and she did conk her head.

The dose of extra-strength pain reliever she’d been given must be taking effect because the ride back to the rodeo grounds wasn’t as painful as the trip to the hospital.

Savannah directed Travis toward Abby’s rig. Before he even turned off the engine, Abby came bounding out of the trailer and straight for the passenger side of the SUV.

“Are you okay?” she asked as she opened the door.

Savannah told herself to ignore the twinge of loss that she wouldn’t get to enjoy Travis’s touch one more time. The truth was she needed to get away from him and the unexpected attraction toward him. “Fine. Just sporting the mother of all bruises. What about Bluebell?”

“She’s fine. A scratch, nothing more.”

Savannah breathed a sigh of relief. Bluebell wasn’t just a horse to her. She was a good friend, family, a trusted partner.

As Savannah unlatched her own seat belt this time and slid out of the truck, Abby spotted her bag of food and milkshake.

“Did you two go to the hospital or out on a date?”

Savannah shot her friend a “What the hell?” look but quickly hid it when Travis appeared at Abby’s side.

“Her stomach was growling so much that I was afraid the hospital staff would think a wild animal had gotten loose in the E.R.,” Travis said, a mischievous grin on his face.

Savannah wrinkled her nose at him. “Very funny.”

Travis gave a little bow, as if on stage. “Thank you. I’ll be here all week.”

This time, Savannah rolled her eyes and headed toward the trailer. “Well, this chick is done for the day. I’m going to bed and calling do-over for tomorrow.”

After shooting Savannah a wicked wink, Abby headed toward the trailer to get the door. When Savannah reached the bottom of the steps, she stopped and half turned toward Travis.

“Thanks for everything.”

“You’re welcome. Hope you feel better soon. Maybe we can catch up sometime when you’re not being carted off to the hospital.”

“Yeah.” Wow, that sounded enthusiastic. But it was as if her brain had finally said, “Enough. I’m shutting down now.” And she had a feeling it had more to do with the hunky version of Travis Shepard watching her than working late the night before or any physical trauma she’d endured.

She finally broke eye contact and climbed gingerly up into Abby’s trailer, not quite able to ignore Abby’s knowing smile.

“Too bad you’re injured,” Abby said as she shut the door to the sound of Travis’s vehicle starting. “Because you could have jumped that boy and I don’t think he would have minded.”

Damn if Savannah’s face didn’t flush at the image that popped into her mind. And of course Abby noticed.

“You do like him.”

“He’s a nice guy, and yes, he’s good-looking. But we’re just high school acquaintances who happened to bump into each other.”

“Him taking you to the hospital and buying you dinner isn’t just bumping into each other.”

“He was just being helpful. And it was the Burger Barn, not a five-star restaurant.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I don’t think he’s interested in dating anyway, and I don’t blame him.” She recounted the incident with the nurse.

“Maybe he just wasn’t interested in her.”

With a shake of her head, Savannah left her friend behind and headed for that much-needed hot shower. If she avoided the topic of Travis for a couple of days, Abby would probably forget all about him.

When Savannah finally stepped under the water, it felt as if a week had passed since she’d left home instead of only half a day. She closed her eyes and let her mind float, and her thoughts drifted to Travis. In the solitude of the shower, she allowed herself to think about him, his striking good looks, the strength she sensed in him, the warmth of his hands as he’d helped her in and out of the SUV.

She ran her hand over the spot on her leg where he’d placed his palm, imagining she could still feel it. As her thoughts meandered down one path and then another, she found herself imagining him in the shower with her, water sluicing over both of their naked bodies as they pressed against each other.

Had her sister Lizzie finding love really sparked some sort of similar desire in Savannah?

She ran the soap over her aching body, picturing Travis’s hands doing it instead. Her skin grew warm and sensitive as she slid her hand up her torso and across her right breast. The image of Travis’s mouth settling against that breast had just formed in her mind when she froze and her eyes popped open.

Her heart skipped a beat as she moved her fingertips back over the area they’d just skimmed and then probed deeper. She bit her lip as the examination found what she’d feared. A lump, and it wasn’t on the side of her injuries.

* * *

HIDING HER CONCERN from Abby proved so difficult that Savannah used her injuries as an excuse the next morning to say she was going to head home. “We’ll plan another weekend soon. Hopefully, I won’t be so accident-prone next time.”

“I’ll forgive you for abandoning me if you ask Travis out and then tell me all about it.”

Savannah gave her friend a friendly punch in the shoulder. “Let it go.”

Abby looked over her shoulder as she cooked breakfast. “Don’t sit there and tell me you haven’t thought about it.”

Savannah remembered her imaginings in the shower the night before, before that lump in her breast had torpedoed her ability to think of anything else.

She didn’t give Abby the satisfaction of a response. Instead, she nabbed a slice of crisp bacon and headed for the door. But as she drove out of Mineral Wells and pointed her truck toward home, she didn’t find any peace in her solitude and wondered if she should have stayed through the second night of competition.

Her thoughts kept drifting to Travis and how nice and easy it had been between them the night before. But then her mind got jerked back to the lump. She imagined it getting larger by the second, making her so anxious she finally pulled over and scrolled through online listings for doctors on her phone. She had a regular doctor as well as a gynecologist, but the irrational fear that her family would find out if she visited either one of them had her searching for another option.

She sat at the rest area making calls until she found not only an office open to take her call but one that could fit her in on Monday. Glad to have a plan of action, it still felt as if Monday were aeons away.

When she pulled up to the barn on the ranch a couple of hours later, her dad was sitting at the entrance in his wheelchair. As if she needed one more thing to worry about. What was he doing, tracking the GPS on her phone?

She forced herself not to wince or make any sounds signaling pain as she slipped out of the truck and approached him. “Hey, Dad. What are you doing out here?”

“Needed to get out of the house. I’m about to go stir crazy.”

That she could understand. If she had shattered bones that prevented her from working, from riding, from even getting around by herself, she’d go bonkers, too.

Savannah looked beyond her father to the interior of the barn and caught the look on her brother Jet’s face. Yeah, just as she thought. Her dad had directed that he be brought to the barn to make sure everything was exactly as he wanted it. She still wasn’t convinced he hadn’t known she would be appearing earlier than she’d mentioned and had set up camp to wait for her.

Choosing not to invite the conversation, she moved to the back of the trailer to let Bluebell out.

“Your brother can take care of that.”

She wanted to take her father up on the offer, but she refused to do anything that would show she was hurt worse than she’d indicated on the phone the night before. Or to give any clue that anything else was wrong.

“I’m good.” As if to negate her words, a sharp pain skewered her side as she opened the trailer. Thankfully, her back was to her father because this time she couldn’t prevent gritting her teeth.

Forcing her expression to relax, she guided Bluebell out of the trailer just as Julieta, her stepmother, pulled up in her SUV.

“You don’t look any worse for wear,” Julieta said as she got out of the vehicle, looking just as lovely in jeans and a casual pink blouse as she did when wearing her sharp business suits at the Baron Energies office. “To listen to your father last night, I expected you to be rolled home in a full body cast.”

Brock huffed. “You are exaggerating.”

Julieta lifted a dark brow at him. “I know what I heard.”

Savannah hid a smile. Julieta might be considerably younger than Brock, but she wasn’t only a pretty face. She could hold her own with her husband despite his tendency to be gruff and demanding. Brock acted put out with Julieta’s sass sometimes, but Savannah knew the truth was he admired it even if he never said so.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Julieta said to Savannah before turning toward her husband. “Now, you, in the car. Time for your follow-up appointment.”

“I’m fine.”

“Then this should go quickly.” Julieta wasn’t letting him talk his way out of going to the doctor as instructed.

Her father was still grumbling as Savannah led Bluebell into the barn. At least his imminent departure would give Savannah a reprieve, however brief, from the conversation about the store.

She ached, was bone tired from not sleeping well the night before, and her stomach was in knots and likely would be until she saw the doctor on Monday.

Jet reached for Bluebell’s reins. “I’ll take care of her.”

“I can do it.”

“You can also go home and get some rest. I know you’re hurting and were hiding it just now.”

Savannah let the facade drop away. “I do sort of feel as if I’ve been body slammed by King Kong.”

He nodded his head toward the barn’s entrance. “Go rest while you can.”

“Thanks.”

But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t find anything beyond the most superficial sleep for the rest of the weekend. By Monday morning, she felt dreadful, wrung out like a wet cloth. She was ready to cut the lump out of her breast herself just so she could get away from it.

By the time she was being led back to be examined by a doctor she’d never met, she felt as if she was going to hurl. It suddenly occurred to her that she needed to explain her injuries before a nurse or the doctor thought she had been beaten.

The nurse, a peppy young woman named Becky, led her to an examination room. “There’s a gown on the table. The doctor will be with you shortly.”

“By the way, I have some significant bruising, so tell the doctor not to be shocked. I was in a rodeo Friday night and took a nasty spill.”

A hint of suspicion flickered in the nurse’s eyes, and Savannah couldn’t blame her. She knew lots of women came in with injuries from domestic violence that they tried to pass off as something else.

“You can check with the hospital in Mineral Wells, and with anyone who was at the rodeo.”

Becky finally nodded and headed out of the room.

One of the worst things in the world was sitting in a hospital gown in a chilly room waiting forever for a doctor to make an appearance. If she hadn’t been so incredibly anxious, she would have brought a book to read.

She wouldn’t have thought it possible, but her anxiety level increased after the doctor came in and started her examination. When she finished, Dr. Fisher sat on a rolling stool in front of a laptop and started asking a battery of questions.

“Do you do regular breast self-exams?”

“Have you ever had a mammogram?”

“Is this the first time you’ve found a lump?”

Savannah answered all the questions, wishing the doctor would instead just tell her it was nothing to worry about.

“Do you have a family history of breast cancer?”

Savannah opened her mouth to answer as she had with all the other questions, but nothing came out.

“Miss Baron?”

“I don’t know. Not that I’m aware of.”

“If possible, check with your parents.”

That was going to be difficult since she had no desire to talk to her father about the lump, not when he’d overreacted about her falling off a horse. Oh, and the fact that she had no idea where her mother was, or if she was even alive, would make it difficult to ask her.

She fell so deep into her thoughts of her mother that she nearly missed what the doctor said next—that Savannah was being sent for a mammogram. Not next week, not the next day, but in a few minutes. That wasn’t good, was it? They always made you wait for these things, making you live in a perpetual state of freaking out until the test was done and results received.

As she maneuvered the hallways of the clinic to the mammography area, she felt as if she were trudging through a dense fog that slowed her thoughts while making it seem as if they were racing at the same time. A part of her buried deep inside wished she had her mother beside her, holding her hand. But that wasn’t possible. Delia Baron had abandoned her and her siblings, walked away from them and their dad as if they meant nothing.

Savannah pushed thoughts of her mother away. She’d stopped trying to figure out the why behind her mother leaving a long time ago. After all, she couldn’t think of a single reason that wasn’t at its core purely selfish. Add in the fact that her father refused to even speak Delia’s name, and gradually she just stopped coming up in conversation anymore. Honestly, until Lizzie had gotten pregnant and started worrying about not being a good mother, it had been a while since Savannah had even spared her mom a thought.

But now, as she endured the boob smashing that every woman dreaded, she couldn’t help but think about the mystery of her family medical history on her mother’s side. As she left the clinic half an hour later with assurances that she’d be contacted as soon as the test results were available, she couldn’t stop wondering about her mother. Where was she? Was there a history of breast cancer in her family? Had her mother ever found a lump?

A part of Savannah desperately hoped the answer to that last question was yes, and that it had proven to be nothing of concern. In that one way, she was totally fine with following in her mother’s footsteps.

But how was she supposed to find out those answers without cluing her family in to the fact that something was going on?

She was still searching for that answer as she maneuvered through traffic toward the downtown Dallas office of Baron Energies. Even as she walked through the glass entrance and flashed her security badge to the guard at the front desk, she wasn’t sure how she was going to casually bring up their mother in conversation with her sister.

As she neared Lizzie’s office, she spotted her father’s longtime secretary, Maria, chatting with Emory, who worked as Lizzie’s assistant.

Maria’s face lit up the moment she saw her. “Savannah, dear, I haven’t seen you in forever.”

Savannah was careful not to allow Maria to hug her too tightly. “It’s good to see you, too.” She glanced toward Emory. “Both of you. Is my sister available?”

Lizzie poked her head out of her office door. “So I’m not hearing things. What are you doing here?”

“What, I’m not allowed to come take my sister to lunch?”

It was no wonder Lizzie was surprised by Savannah’s appearance considering Savannah rarely darkened the door of the oil company’s headquarters. Like Jet and Carly, she had little interest in the energy side of the family business.

Savannah crossed her arms. “Convince me you’re not hungry, and I’ll leave.”

Lizzie shook her head. “You know I can’t do that.”

“I know. Chris says all you do is eat.”

Shock registered on Lizzie’s face. “He does not.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“If he said that, he’s going to wish he never had.”

Savannah couldn’t help but laugh, which was a minor miracle considering what had propelled her here in the first place. “Okay, so maybe I made that up. I don’t think Chris would ever be stupid enough to think that, let alone say it. But I’ve seen you eat recently. You can put away an impressive amount of food.”

“Just for that, you’re paying for lunch.”

“Really? You’re the company bigwig now.”

“And you’re the one teasing the pregnant lady.” Lizzie disappeared into her office but was back a moment later with her purse. Now that her pregnancy was out in the open, she’d gone shopping for maternity clothes. But she made even those look stylish. “Come on. I feel as if I could eat an entire cow.”

They didn’t go far, just down the block to one of Lizzie’s favorite restaurants. When they’d placed their orders, Lizzie leaned back and pinned Savannah with a questioning look.

“So why are you really here?”

“What’s with the interrogation?”

“Because you are somewhere other than on a horse or behind the counter of the store.”

“I just wanted to get away for a bit, spend some time with my sister before motherhood and marriage gobble you up.”

“Dad’s still being a pain, huh?”

Savannah shrugged. “I can manage Dad. Avoidance works well, I’ve found. Though if he were to heal overnight and suddenly go back to work, I wouldn’t object.”

Lizzie held up her hands in surrender. “Okay, no more looking for ulterior motives.”

“Thank you.”

Lizzie grabbed a slice of toasted sourdough bread from the basket and dipped it in olive oil. “Heard you took quite a tumble the other night. Frank Owens in Accounting was at the rodeo and said he was surprised you were able to walk out of there on your own.”

“So that’s who called Dad?”

Lizzie shrugged. “He didn’t say, but I wouldn’t be surprised. He always has had his lips firmly attached to Dad’s behind.”

Savannah snorted just as she was taking a drink of water. Embarrassment flooded her cheeks as she tried to cover up her gaffe with her cloth napkin. “Warn a girl next time, would ya?”

Lizzie gave her an evil grin.

They talked some about Lizzie and Chris’s plans for the baby’s nursery, and it was obvious from how Lizzie’s face lit up every time she said Chris’s name that she was in love with him. It was great to see, but Savannah found it hard to imagine opening up that much to someone. When you loved another person, they held the power to hurt you. She had to look no further than her father for that.

One wife had walked out on him, and another had died. Though Savannah cared a lot for Julieta, she had to wonder if her dad was crazy for marrying a third time. Was being in love really worth all that pain? She liked things over which she had control. Still, she couldn’t deny the happiness her sister had found with Chris.

“I’m happy for you,” Savannah said. And maybe even a little envious, despite her best intentions. Her thoughts drifted to Travis, and she wondered what he was doing right in that moment, if he’d thought of her any since they’d parted company. But why would he?

“Thanks,” Lizzie said. “I guess you’re next up.”

“Lord, you sound like Abby.”

“And let me guess—she has some long, lanky cowboy picked out for you.”

“No, actually. I happened to bump into Travis Shepard at the rodeo, and she suddenly thinks we’re destined to be together.”

“Why does she think that?”

Savannah shrugged. “I don’t know. All I did was talk to him for a few minutes.” She didn’t mention the fact that he’d taken her to the hospital, waited for her, gotten her dinner and escorted her back to Abby’s trailer. But who was keeping track? Like he’d said, that’s what old friends were for.

“Well, there could be worse pairings. I saw Travis several months ago while he was eating dinner with Rita and her husband. Travis wouldn’t be difficult to look at every day.”

“We barely know each other anymore. And what is it with you? You’ve never been Mary Matchmaker before.”

“What can I say? Being in love is a wonderful feeling. Is it a bad thing to wish it for my sister, as well?”

Thankfully, their meals arrived then, and Savannah was able to steer her sister to different topics. But despite being hungry, Savannah couldn’t force down more than half her grilled salmon and mushroom risotto, and she loved risotto. She waited until Lizzie, who was eating for two, had finished before she ventured into the real reason for the lunch while trying to hide that fact from her sister.

“Since you got pregnant, has it made you think about Mom?”

Lizzie paused in wiping her mouth. “What brought that up?”

“Nothing. I just had a dream about her the other night.”

Lizzie placed her napkin slowly atop her empty plate. “Yeah, I started thinking about her when I found out. I still worry some about being like her, but knowing Chris will be right there beside me helps.” Lizzie paused and picked at the edge of the napkin. “I was sad for a bit that my child wouldn’t know his or her grandmother, but then I realized that Julieta will fill that role just fine.”

“Where do you think she might be now?”

Lizzie shook her head. “No idea. You’d have to ask Dad.”

Savannah wanted to do that about as much as she wanted to ride a bull with a hornet’s nest tied to its tail. They’d all learned long ago that the topic of their mother was one best left alone.

Lizzie’s forehead wrinkled as she stared at Savannah. “What is this really about?”

Savannah grasped for a plausible answer. “Guess I was just thinking about the past after seeing Travis. I found myself wondering how he got beyond losing Corinne.” In reality, she didn’t think he had.

“It’s not the same thing. Corinne had no choice in her leaving her loved ones behind. Mom did.”

Savannah could tell by the strained tone of Lizzie’s voice that the memories hurt her sister, and she was suddenly sorry for dredging them up. After the scare Lizzie had endured when she’d started spotting early in her pregnancy, she didn’t need anything to stress her out. There had to be another way to find the information Savannah needed. She let the subject drop, but it left an awkwardness hanging between her and Lizzie.

“I’m sorry, but I’ve got to run,” Lizzie said as she stood. “I’ve got a conference call in a few minutes.”

Savannah stood and hugged her sister. “Sorry if I ruined lunch.”

“You didn’t.”

Savannah wasn’t so sure as she watched her sister walk toward the exit, her shoulders tense.

After paying the bill, Savannah followed in her sister’s wake, walking slowly down the sidewalk toward where she’d parked. Even though people passed by her going both directions, business people, tourists, shoppers, she couldn’t recall ever feeling so alone. It was an odd feeling for someone who’d often found comfort in solitude, but then it had always been on her terms, in familiar surroundings. A solo ride or getting lost in baking or crafting was a nice reprieve sometimes. Now, the weight of all she hid, of the unknown, hung inside her. She yearned for some lessening of the pressure.

But telling anyone in her family about her fears wouldn’t help. In fact, she had no doubt that they would smother her with caring, with questions, with the inability to give her space when she needed it. What they couldn’t give her were the answers she needed. No one could except the one family member who was no longer a part of her life.

She slid into her truck and leaned her head back to stare at the ceiling. How did you find a person who obviously didn’t want to be found?

Travis’s smiling face materialized in her mind, causing her to jerk upright. Could he be the answer to her problem? She’d never been much of a believer in any fate other than what a person made for herself, but what were the odds she’d cross paths with a private investigator, one she knew, right when she needed help finding her mother?

She grabbed her phone and did a search for Travis’s P.I. firm. When she found the number, all she could do was stare at it. Did she really want to do this? Couldn’t she just wait and find out about her condition once the test results were back? Finding out her family history wasn’t going to change the end result one way or another.

But that wasn’t all that was going on, was it?

She might have been telling herself for the past two days that the reason she needed to find Delia Baron was medical, but that wasn’t the only reason. After years of keeping her feelings about her mom buried so deep she’d forgotten they even existed, that stupid lump in her breast had brought them surging to the surface. She needed to find her mother and ask the one question that really mattered.

Why did you leave us?

Chapter Four

Savannah chickened out. Part of her wasn’t sure she wanted to know where her mother was, why she’d up and abandoned her family with no explanation beyond a short note saying she needed to be alone. So instead of calling Travis, she went home and buried herself in the familiar comfort of baking. She’d seen a recipe for peach cake online and already had several ideas of how to adjust it to make it uniquely her own.

Gina had the afternoon off, so Savannah was alone in the store. She had HGTV playing on the TV and was in the midst of pouring cake batter into pans when the front door opened. She was about to call out that she’d be with the customer in a moment when she noticed it was her dad being pushed in his wheelchair by Juan, one of the farmhands.

When Juan shot Savannah an apologetic look, her stomach sank. Her frustration wasn’t helped by the file folder sitting on her father’s lap. She broke eye contact and took a deep breath as she finished scraping the batter into the pans, then rinsing the bowls in the large sink.

Juan parked her dad at one of the small tables then made himself scarce.

“Can I get you something, Dad?”

“No, I’m good. But we do need to talk about the store.”

This so wasn’t what she needed today. For a moment, she wished she hadn’t made the decision to cut back on her racing. And she hated feeling that way because she loved her dad. At heart he was a good guy, but he had trouble believing anyone else could run a business as well as he could. Lizzie had already been down this road with him before he finally acknowledged that Baron Energies was in good hands while he healed.

She didn’t rush to his side, which no doubt annoyed him. Instead, she took the time to put the cakes in the oven, set the timer, and pour both her father and herself sodas before slipping onto a chair opposite him.

“I know the store has been your pet project, but we have to look at financial feasibility, and the store just isn’t cutting it.”

“We’re doing fine.” Of course, “fine” wasn’t anywhere near good enough for Brock Baron.

“Really? You don’t seem to be overrun with customers.”

Savannah held back the snappish retort that almost flew past her lips. Instead, she calmly said, “We had an entire bus full of people in here about an hour ago. I completely sold out of peach turnovers and pies.”

“That’s all well and good, but we’re a farm. We should be selling our products directly to food companies.”

“We already do that, Dad, and you know it. We’re doing quite well in that area.”

“Which just proves my point that we should direct all the products that direction.”

“I don’t think we’re quite at the point of throwing up the white flag just yet. The store’s offerings are growing every day. In fact, I just put some new cakes in the oven. I’ll even bring you one later.”

“You’re not hearing me. The store is not a wise investment.”

Savannah’s hold on her frustration slipped. “Well, I think you’re wrong.”

Shock registered on her father’s face. He wasn’t used to people disagreeing with him. Before he could say anything, she pressed forward.

“Dad, you trust Lizzie to keep things running well at the office. I’m a grown woman, too. Trust me to know what I’m doing here.”

She could tell he didn’t like being contradicted, and in that moment she wondered if her mom’s leaving hadn’t had anything to do with her children at all. Had Brock driven his wife away with his unyielding ways?

“Dad, do you know where Mom is?”

He jerked as if she’d slapped him. “Why would you ask me that?”

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