Roughneck Cowboy. Marin Thomas

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      “You believed if Charlotte came to the wedding, she’d upset Dad. After giving it more thought, I decided you were right. Dad’s always been there for us, and I didn’t want to do anything that might hurt him.”

      “I felt the same,” Travis said. “There was a time I toyed with the idea of searching for my father, but I never had the money to hire an investigator.” And why bother if the man didn’t want Travis in the first place?

      “I don’t understand how Dad couldn’t have known about you all these years.” The note of suspicion in Matt’s voice didn’t escape Travis.

      “Poor Dad,” Samantha said. “I’m worried about the toll the news of Charlotte’s death will take on him.”

      Matt helped himself to more scotch. “He’ll need time to get used to the idea that both his wives are now dead.”

      “Both wives?” Travis asked.

      “Matt and I were teenagers when Dad married Duke’s mother.”

      That explained Duke’s presence in the family—a stepson.

      “Laura died in a car accident several years ago,” Matt said.

      Travis’s siblings had lost two mothers in their lifetime. “I’m sorry.”

      “The whole situation is sorry.” Samantha stared into her drink.

      “Did you bring proof of Charlotte’s death?” Matt asked.

      Yeah, her body’s in the bed of my pickup. Travis squelched his anger. He couldn’t find fault with his brother for wanting to protect his father. He’d have the same urge if this had happened to his mother. “I’ll mail Dominick a copy of her death certificate as soon as Charlie and I return to Houston.”

      A peek at the wall clock told Travis that the three of them had been together a half hour and Dominick had yet to make an appearance. “It’s best if Charlie and I leave.” Having a civilized discussion about his mother’s death was more than Travis could handle. “I’ll leave my cell number in case Dominick changes his mind and wants to talk.”

      “Dad’s going to want answers before you leave,” Matt said. “You might as well stay here tonight so the two of you can talk tomorrow.”

      “The kids are planning to sleep in the bunkhouse. Charlie will love that. And this couch—” Samantha pointed to the piece of furniture she sat on “—is a sleeper sofa.”

      Okay, so they had room to put him and Charlie up for the night, but the invitation wasn’t heartfelt. Travis got the impression that Matt didn’t trust him and wanted to keep an eye on him. “Charlie and I don’t want to intrude.”

      “Thanksgiving is a time to be with family,” Samantha said.

      Family—the reason Travis and Charlie had embarked on the trip to Oklahoma in the first place. He couldn’t return to Texas until Dominick agreed to care for Charlie should Travis suddenly drop out of the picture. And what about his daughter? Charlie hadn’t smiled much or played with any friends since her grandmother’s death. “We’ll stay.”

      “IF YOU’ RE MY GRANDPA, how come you never visit me?”

      Charlie’s question met Travis’s ear as he reached the bottom of the stairs. After tossing and turning on the sofa bed all night, he’d showered and changed in the second-floor bathroom and had been heading to breakfast.

      “Who said I never wanted to visit you, Charlotte?”

      “Why do you keep calling me Charlotte? My name’s Charlie.”

      “Are you always this impudent?”

      “Did you call me a swearword?”

      The two needed a referee. Travis entered the kitchen. “Mornin’.” He reached out to ruffle his daughter’s hair, but she saw his hand coming and ducked. Impudent little stinker.

      “Grandpa keeps calling me Grandma’s name.” His daughter thrust out her lower lip.

      “Charlie prefers to be called Charlie,” Travis said.

      Dominick stood at the stove, flipping pancakes—avoiding eye contact. “Where is everyone?” Travis asked. The house was too quiet.

      “Visiting Juanita’s family.”

      “Grandpa said Juanita bosses him around.”

      Dominick set five miniature pancakes in front of Charlie, then slid the syrup bottle across the table. “Juanita’s been my housekeeper since Char—for a long time.”

      The conversation baffled Travis. This was the first time his father had spoken directly to him since their arrival last night, and they were discussing the housekeeper. Dominick poured batter into the frying pan, his movements careful and precise. A couple of minutes later, he added a second plate of pancakes to the table and a large mug of coffee. “Dig in.”

      “Thanks.” Travis reached for the syrup bottle.

      “You’re probably confused about who’s related to whom in the family.” Dominick refilled his coffee mug, then propped a hip against the kitchen counter.

      Travis had a pretty good grasp on everyone’s relationship, but kept quiet.

      “Matt married Amy this past summer. She was a widow. Her daughters, Rose and Lily, are from her first marriage.”

      “Rose said that Lily pooped marbles all over the bathroom floor when Matt babysat them.”

      “We don’t talk about stuff like that when we’re eating,” Travis said. Leave it to his daughter to add flavor to the morning meal.

      “Amy owns a horse-boarding business in Idaho and Matt raises cutting horses on her farm. I wish they lived closer. I don’t get to see them often enough.”

      Travis steeled himself against the painful twinge caused by Dominick’s words. Had Travis’s mother not isolated him from the family, his father might have missed him, too.

      “I married Duke’s mother, Laura, when Duke was sixteen.” Dominick stared into his coffee mug. “Laura passed away when Duke was in college.”

      “I’m sorry,” Travis muttered. Why was he always muttering sorry? When would someone apologize to him for being cheated out of his rightful place in the Cartwright family?

      “Is Grandpa sad?” Charlie whispered.

      “Not anymore, Charlotte,” Dominick answered.

      Charlie opened her mouth to protest her proper name, but Travis nudged her hand and she settled for an eye roll.

      “Duke transferred his information-and-technology company to Detroit a year ago. He met Renée there. She’s a social worker. They adopted Timmy. Their baby’s due in January.”

      Travis shoved a forkful of pancake into his mouth. He’d lost his appetite but felt obligated СКАЧАТЬ