A Bravo Homecoming (11 page)

But her frustration was mounting. “You know, the least you can do is look at me when I’m talking to you.”

Slowly, he turned and faced her again. “We finally found each other.
Really
found each other. This is our chance. Why can’t you see that?” His eyes were shadowed, but he spoke with such passion. Somehow, that gave her hope. They did want the same things. He just wanted everything right now. She was more cautious. She just didn’t see why they needed to rush.

Lowering her feet to the rug, she rose to her height. “Oh, Travis, please.” She went to him. He watched her approach, his jaw set, his eyes flaring to anger again. She halted a foot away from him. Somehow, it didn’t seem safe to get closer. “I know it’s our chance. I agree with you. I’m so happy that we’re together now.”

“Right,” he spoke with a clear edge of sarcasm. “So happy you refuse to let me take care of you.”

She kept her head high, her voice low and even. “But you can’t just ask me to give up all my dreams. To suddenly, overnight, be someone I’m not.”

“Someone you’re not.” He repeated her words, heavy on the irony. “So what you’re really telling me is that you don’t want to marry me?”

“I never said that. Of course I want to marry you.”

“You don’t want to have kids, then.”

“Yes. Yes, I do. I love you and want to marry you and have kids with you. I also want to go back to college and finish getting my degree—and then find a job that works for me. It’s the twenty-first century, Travis. I don’t see why I can’t do all those things.”

“I didn’t say you couldn’t. I said there had to be priorities.”

She took a slow, careful breath. “And your priorities are?”

“I told you. I want to move ahead with our plans. I want to have a baby right away. Maybe your going to college and getting started on that new career will have to take a back seat for a while.”

“What you mean is that you want to move ahead with
your
plans and
my
plans will have to wait.”

“Marriage and children,” he said flatly. “That’s my plan. You told me a minute ago that you wanted that, too.”

“I do.”

He made a low, angry sound. Raising a hand, his bicep flexing powerfully, he raked his fingers back through his hair in a gesture that spoke all too clearly of his exasperation with her.

They’d reached an impasse. She got that. She hadn’t spent all her working life dealing with men and finding ways to break through stalemates not to recognize a deadlock when she saw one.

Someone had to give. She very much doubted that that someone would be Travis.

At work, she always tried to figure out the deeper problem in a situation like this, to get down to what was holding the other guy back from working with her and moving forward, and also to admit to whatever her own issues were. Sometimes the root problem would be something as simple as the need to be right.

A man hated to be wrong—well, so did a woman. But for a man, especially, being right seemed keyed into the drive to survive. Men had a basic need to protect others—women and children most of all. And to protect others they had to make the right decisions. They often held on to bad decisions because they couldn’t stand to face the simple fact that they’d been wrong in a judgment call, that they hadn’t been effective protectors.

Protection.

What had he said a few minutes ago?
I can protect you. I
will
protect you….

Yeah, that was the key here. He wanted to protect her. He wanted to make sure that what had happened to Rachel could never happen to her. He
needed
to believe that he
could
protect her against accidents of fate—even though what he needed to believe just wasn’t true.

“What?” he demanded. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Where to even begin? “Travis, I…” He waited, glaring. She made herself continue. “I think that we need to…talk about Rachel.”

His face was set against her. “What for? This has nothing to do with Rachel.”

“I think it does—or at least, it has to do with what happened to Rachel. And what that did to
you.
” She held out her hand. With some reluctance, he took it. “Come on.” She pulled him back toward the bed. He went—dragging his feet a little, yeah. But he went. She sat on the edge of the mattress and pulled him down beside her.

He sat with the same lack of enthusiasm he’d shown for giving her his hand. “Okay,” he grumbled. “Say it, whatever it is.”

She twined her fingers with his. “It wasn’t your fault that Rachel died.”

“I know that.” He shook his head. “I’m not a child, Sam.” He spoke more in reproach than in anger. She decided to take that as a good sign.

“Well, all right.” She bumped her shoulder against his, squeezed his fingers. “Just checkin’.” She slanted him a glance and saw he was looking at her.

His gaze had turned softer. “Sam…” His voice was softer, too. “It’s like some miracle, you and me. I never thought I would be willing, you know, to…go there again. To take a chance on losing everything all over again.”

“I know. I do remember how much you loved Rachel.”

“I couldn’t…make it work, with Wanda.”

“I know.”

His eyes had changed again. They were far away now. “I thought I could. But she just…wasn’t Rachel. I would look at her and wonder how I got there with her. I realized too late that she wasn’t the one for me. I wanted to prove to myself I was over Rachel. So I asked Wanda to marry me—and then I never really gave her a chance. I drove her away, into that other guy’s open arms.”

Sam made a low noise in her throat. But she didn’t speak. This was, after all, for him to say.

And then he was looking at her again, really
seeing
her. “But with you…it’s so good with you. Partly because we were friends for all those years first, I think. You really changed things up during that week with Jonathan. And I finally saw you as a woman. All woman. But you’re still Sam, still the same person I’ve always known. I don’t think of Rachel—or of anyone else—when I look at you. I just see…you. You’re
all
that I see.” He pulled his hand from hers—but only to wrap those gentle fingers around the back of her neck and pull her close for a slow, tender kiss.

When they came up for air, she whispered, “I feel the same about you. Oh, Travis. You’re everything to me. I want us to work this out, to find a way that we both get what we want. We can’t…do that if you’re pushing too hard, if you’re trying to make me into someone I’m not.”

He pressed his forehead to hers. “I get that. I do.”

“You can’t…protect me absolutely. There is no such thing as absolute safety. We’re
not
safe in life. The best we can do is try to be a little bit wise, and a little bit careful. And brave. We need to be brave.”

He rubbed his cheek against hers, his beard stubble creating a slight, lovely friction. “Yes, ma’am.”

Had she actually gotten through to him? She did hope so. “So you’ll stop…pushing me?”

He cradled her face in his hands. “I just want us to be married.”

“Okay. I get that. I want to be married to you, too. But I also plan to go ahead with my education, to get my degree and—”

“You said that. I get it.”

Did he? She wasn’t sure. She wanted to find a way to pin him down about it.

But another thing she’d learned through all the years of doing a man’s job—you didn’t beat an issue to death with a man. You could lose whatever ground you might have gained if you kept after him too long. Sometimes you just had to table the discussion and come back to go at it again another day.

It was a process she’d never particularly enjoyed.

“Sam?” He nuzzled her ear, nipped at her earlobe.

Down below, she felt that wonderful, warm weakness. “Yeah?”

“Marry me.”

A low laugh escaped her. “Wait a minute, didn’t I already say that I would?”

“I mean let’s set the date. Let’s go for it.”

She gulped—and started to feel railroaded again.

But then she stopped herself. It wasn’t the wedding that she had a problem with. It wasn’t being Travis’s wife. She
wanted
to be his wife, she truly did. “You…have a date in mind?”

“December. The third Saturday, I think.”

“Uh. December. As in next month? A few weeks away…?”

“That’s it,” he said softly. Why did that seem like much too soon? She wasn’t even sure yet that they had an understanding, that he wouldn’t be pressuring her constantly to stay home, to get pregnant ASAP, to give up college and her plans for a new career. He took her chin, guided it around so she looked in his eyes. “I was thinking we could get married here, at Bravo Ridge.”

“Here?” she echoed weakly, still trying to get her mind around the enormity of the step they would be taking.

He nodded. “My mom would be thrilled to help in any way she could. She’ll make sure the wedding is exactly the way you want it. We could invite the families—yours and mine. And any friends you want to be there and even some of the guys we’ve worked with over the years, if you want.”

She was scared to death. Which probably proved that Travis wasn’t the only one with emotional issues here.

Oh, yeah. Definitely. Setting the date was freaking her out.

And yet, well…

What he suggested sounded pretty much perfect. It did. Just the kind of wedding she would want if she was going to have one. Small and comfortable. The family. And a few good friends.

Strange. To think of herself as a bride. But kind of nice, too.

Still, she hesitated to say yes. It didn’t feel right to her. And she couldn’t decide whether it didn’t feel right because he was pushing her again—or if the problem actually was hers.

She’d been on her own for so long, answerable to no one but herself. Being married—even to Travis, even if he backed off on his sudden campaign to make her into his happy little homemaker—well, it was pretty frickin’ huge. It really was.

Getting married would change her life even more completely than she’d been planning on changing it.

Was she ready for that?

He spoke again. “You talked about Rachel….”

“Yeah?”

“Well, one thing I always wished I’d done differently…”

“Yeah?”

“I just wish we’d been married, you know, Rachel and me? If it had to happen, if I had to lose her, I wish we had been married first. I wish, just for a day or two, she might have been my wife.” He shut his eyes. Made a low, pained sound deep in his throat. “God, I can’t believe I said that.” He shook his head. “I mean, she died. What the hell did it really matter, whether I ever called her my wife?”

Tenderly, she told him, “It mattered to you, Travis. It mattered a lot.”

He blew out a breath and muttered, “Now you’ll think I’m a complete wuss.”

“Uh-uh. No, I don’t think that. Never. I think you’re brave and good and…true at heart. That’s what I think, Travis Bravo. That’s what I
know.
”

“Then say yes, Sam,” he whispered. “Say yes to you and me.”

And when he put it that way, well, her heart melted. When he put it that way, what else could she say but, “Yeah, all right.”

He took both her hands in his and he sat back from her a little. His eyes were bright as stars. “Say that again.”

She swallowed down the lump in her throat and she said it right out loud. “Let’s get married, Travis. Let’s do this thing. Let’s do it here, at Bravo Ridge. On the third Saturday in December.”

T
ravis kissed her. For a long time.

And then he said, “Tomorrow at dinner we’ll tell them all that we’ve set the date.”

“Oh, Travis…” She shook her head.

His gaze grew wary. She saw worry there, that she would find some way to put him off. “Why not?”

“Tomorrow your mom and dad reaffirm their vows.”

“So?”

“Well, it should be
their
day, don’t you think? I’d rather talk to your mom about it on Friday—and Mercy, too. I mean, it’s her house. Shouldn’t we ask her if she’s up for having our wedding here?”

“There’s no need to ask her. She’ll be fine with it.”

“I just think it’s the right thing to do, you know? To talk to your mom and Mercy first.”

He looked at her for a long time. Finally, he said, “I have to ask….”

“What?”

“Are you stalling me?”

“No, I’m not. I promise I’m not.” She was proud of how open and sincere she sounded. Even though maybe she
was
stalling. Just a little.

But he seemed to believe her. Slowly, he nodded. “All right. But first thing Friday morning, we’ll—no. Wait a minute. Friday’s the big shopping thing, right? You, Mom, Elena and Mercy will be out of here before dawn.”

Black Friday. She’d totally forgotten. “Well, yeah. But we won’t be out shopping forever.”

“Trust me. I know how Black Friday goes. It will last until three or four in the afternoon. At least.”

“So then, we’ll talk to your mom and Mercy as soon as we get back.”

He held her gaze. “Friday afternoon, then. When you get back here to the ranch…”

“Absolutely.”

“I’m holding you to that.”

“Travis, come on. I won’t let you down.”

“Say that again.”

“I won’t…” Her words trailed off as he laid the pad of a finger against her lips.

“On second thought,” he said softly, “don’t tell me. Show me.”

Davis and Aleta reaffirmed their marriage vows at one in the afternoon on Thanksgiving Day in the big living room there at the ranch, surrounded by their children. And their children’s children.

Sam, who never let anyone see her cry, found herself kind of misty-eyed over the whole thing. Davis was handsome and imposing as always, in a fine graystriped suit, silver-gray silk shirt and blue tie. Aleta looked like a bride again, in a cream-colored silk shirt-dress that flattered her slim figure.

When they shared the kiss that reaffirmed their lifelong commitment to each other, Sam wasn’t the only with tears in her eyes.

Later, they all sat down at the long table in the dining room to share Thanksgiving dinner.

Aleta said, kind of shyly, “I have written a special grace, just for this special day.”

Davis, looking pretty choked up, cleared his throat and said somberly, “Let’s bow our heads.”

Everyone did, even the little ones.

And Aleta’s gentle voice filled the high-ceilinged room. “We thank you, Lord, for this day, for this fine meal laid before us, for all of us, together. For the ties that bind us, the ties that hold us, heart to heart. We are ever grateful for your understanding. And for your patience as we slowly come to learn and accept our own failings—and then overcome them. As we find what really matters in this life—the love we share. The love we give. The love we always find waiting, strong and abiding, when we are so very sure there is no hope. On this day made for thankfulness, we are grateful beyond measure. Thank you. Amen.”

“Amen!” crowed little Lucas. “Amen, amen, amen!”

Smiling, lifting their heads again, everyone said it, “Amen.”

That night, as soon as they were alone in their rooms, Travis pulled Sam close. “I talked to Mom about the wedding.”

The muscles between her shoulder blades jerked tight, but she was careful to keep her voice neutral. “When was that?”

“I got her alone for a few minutes just now. And I talked to Mercy, too.”

“I wondered where you’d gone off to.” She eased free of his embrace and went to the windows.

“Sam…” He came to her, put his hands on her shoulders. Warmth spiraled down inside her. She was a total sucker for his lightest touch. He spoke softly, coaxingly. “I told Mom I knew I was out of line to ask her now, that I’d promised you we’d wait until tomorrow so that today could be all about her and dad.”

“And she said…?”

“She said what a wonderful woman you are.”

Sam made a humphing sound and kept her back to him. “Yeah, right. What else was she going to say?”

“You have to know she was thrilled. Why wouldn’t she be? This is what she’s been waiting for. The last of her kids, finally making the leap. She said she was so happy for us. And that she’d be glad to help in any way she could. And she meant it. And Mercy told me she was honored that we wanted to have the wedding here. It’s getting to be a family tradition. Mercy and Luke got married here, at the ranch. And so did Elena and Rogan.”

Sam shook her head and kept her gaze on the distant, silvery moon. “We had an agreement.”

“Sam.” He turned her to face him. “You’re right. I should have waited, like we agreed. I’m sorry, okay?” He looked at her so hopefully. “Forgive me?”

She wanted to stay annoyed at him.

Which was kind of petty, the more she thought about it—petty, and also dishonest. Because she
had
been stalling, even though she kept telling him that she wasn’t.

She started thinking about how far they’d come. Friends. To lovers. To so much more.

So okay. She was scared. Of her own insecurities. Of the past that hadn’t really let him go.

But holding a grudge because he hadn’t kept to the letter of some minor agreement would do neither of them any good.

She went into his waiting arms and rested her head in the crook of his shoulder. “You’re forgiven.”

“Good.” His deep voice rumbled under her ear. He stroked her hair.

It would be all right, she told herself. They would make it work, together, create a good life, the two of them.

She sighed and snuggled closer.

He lifted her chin for a kiss.

The next morning, long before dawn, taking care not to wake her sleeping fiancé, Sam eased back the blankets, slipped her feet to the rug and tiptoed from bed.

She met Mercy, Elena and Aleta downstairs. They drove into San Antonio, to Tessa’s house, where the rest of the women of the family were gathered.

In two vehicles, they caravanned to North Star Mall. And they shopped without a single break until well past noon.

It was Sam’s very first Black Friday experience. She bought presents for everyone on her Christmas list—which had grown considerably since she’d come to San Antonio. The stores were crowded. It was a total zoo.

Before Jonathan, she never would have lasted an hour in the hordes of eager, mostly women shoppers. She would have run screaming for the parking lot.

She made a mental note to call Jonathan and thank him. She even bought him a rhinestone-studded set of suspenders at Saks Fifth Avenue and had them gift-wrapped in festive green and red. He would probably hate them. They weren’t tasteful in the least.

But she didn’t care. She knew that even if he looked down his fashion-forward nose at them, he would love that she had gone out and found them just for him.

At lunch, the talk was all about how Sam and Travis had set the date. Everyone said they’d be there, at the ranch, for the ceremony and the family party after.

They shopped some more.

Sam took a break around two. She wandered out of Dillard’s, her arms full of packages, and dropped gratefully onto a sofa in a sitting area next to a Christmas tree. Aleta emerged from the same store a couple of minutes later. Sam called her over and scooted down enough to make a place for her.

They sat together, listening to the endless loop of piped-in Christmas music, watching a couple of toddlers chase each other around the tree, laughing, stumbling, falling—and then picking themselves right up and chasing each other some more.

Aleta was smiling. “Every year I tell myself I really don’t need to put myself through the Black Friday experience again. And then every year when Zoe or Mercy or Tessa or Corrine insists I come with them, well, I just can’t say no. And this is the first year we’ve all gone together. I have to say, it’s been great.”

Sam tipped her head back and took in the giant gold bell tied with a ginormous red bow suspended above their heads. “I have loved every minute of it,” she said, and meant it. “Even though I have to tell you. My feet are killing me.”

“Oh, honey…” Aleta put her hand over Sam’s. “You have no idea.”
Honey.
It was what Travis’s mom called her own children. And her daughters-in-law. Sam got the total warm-and-fuzzies at that moment. She felt accepted. Loved, even. Aleta really was an amazing person. She had a truly generous heart. She leaned a little closer to Sam. “And speaking of shopping, we must find you your wedding dress soon. There’s not a lot of time to waste.”

Sam laughed, though deep inside apprehension stirred. “Blame Travis. He wants to get married and get married now.”

“And you don’t?”

Sam met Aleta’s clear blue eyes. “I admit I wanted to wait awhile. It’s all happening so fast with us.”

The faint lines between Aleta’s brows deepened. “But you’ve known each other for so long.”

Sam glanced away. “True.”

Aleta squeezed her hand. “And you seem so happy together.”

“We are. It’s just…oh, I don’t know….”

“Did you want a big wedding? So many girls do. If you do, we can—”

Sam groaned. “Oh, please God. No.”

“You just feel…rushed?”

“A little. I…” Sam let her voice trail off. She knew she never should have started this conversation.

There was just too much that Travis’s sweet mom didn’t know for Aleta to be able to understand Sam’s doubts and concerns. Maybe someday, Sam would tell Aleta everything. About the Sam she had been, the Sam she’d suddenly become with the help of Travis’s trust fund and her own personal fairy godmother. About the fake engagement that had magically become real. About Travis and his need to make her his wife, now, immediately, the way he hadn’t done with Rachel. But today, at the mall, in the middle of the Black Friday shop-a-thon? Uh-uh. Not the right time.

Plus, well, it seemed disloyal to Travis, to tell Aleta that they’d pretended to be engaged because she wouldn’t stop throwing women at him. She needed Travis’s go-ahead to get into that.

And was any of it information Aleta actually needed? No. What mattered to her was that Sam and Travis were together, that her prodigal son had come home at last.

Aleta made a worried sound. “It’s a big step, getting married. And it’s not unheard-of for a bride to have some misgivings. But if you really feel it’s too soon…”

“No.” She put on a bright smile. “I want to marry Travis. So much. I honestly do.”

“But honey, you said you feel rushed.”

“Only a little.”

“You’re sure?”

“I am positive.” She said it so firmly that she almost believed it. “This wedding—at the ranch, with you and the whole family there—it’s just the kind of wedding I’ve always dreamed of.”

“You can talk to me. I want you to know that. Any time you need a sounding board, or just someone to listen.”

“Thanks, Aleta. I’ll remember that.”

Aleta shifted beside her, bending to pull her packages closer at her feet. “Will you invite your mother to your wedding?”

“I was thinking I would, yeah. And my stepfather. And my wicked half sisters, too.” Not that they would come.

Aleta was chuckling. “Oh, your sisters are wicked, are they?”

“Not really. But…”

“What? Tell me.”

Sam sighed. “They are a couple of snobby little twits.”

“Twits, huh?”

“Well, they’re a lot younger than me. And we never really got along. They’re twins, did I mention that?”

“You did, yes. That first day you arrived.”

“Dina and Mila. They’re fifteen now. I haven’t seen them in a couple of years.” The last time had not been fun. The two had whispered about her behind their tiny little hands and giggled every time she entered a room where they happened to be.

“I’m glad you’re inviting them,” Aleta said. “And your father…?”

“Well, I’ve been meaning to warn you about him.”

Aleta faked a look of alarm. “I need a warning?”

“He’s a crusty old guy. And his girlfriend, Keisha, is younger than I am. They live in a Winnebago. So the Winnebago would be coming to the wedding, too.”

“The Winnebago is welcome.”

“Well, I’m just saying. My family is a little odd.”

“If they’re
your
family, they’re
our
family.”

Sam shook her head. “I think you should wait until you meet them to make that call.”

Sam phoned her mom the next morning.

“Samantha, how wonderful,” Jennifer Early Jaworski Carlson said when she heard the news. “Of course I will be there. And Walt and your sisters would love to come, too.”

“Uh. Well, great, Mom.” Sam felt slightly shell-shocked. She’d never for a second expected her mom to say yes. Let alone announce she was bringing Walt and the Terrible Twins. “Have you got a pencil?”

“Right here.” Her mom repeated the date that Sam had already mentioned.

“That’s it.” Sam gave her the address and phone number of the ranch. “And Mercy—that’s Travis’s sister-in-law—has said you’re welcome to stay here, at Bravo Ridge, if that works for you.”

“How kind of her. I’ll talk to Walt. See if he wants to drive down, or if we’ll fly—and I’ll call within the next couple of days and let you know if we’ll be taking your fiancé’s sister-in-law up on her thoughtful invitation.”

“Well, okay. Great. Terrific, then.”

“
You’re
getting married,” said her mother wonderingly. As if she’d never in million years thought
that
would happen. Sam tried not to feel defensive. But her mom had a habit of giving her grief about how she needed to dress up now then, how it wouldn’t hurt to be just a little bit feminine. How a man appreciated a woman who
acted
like a woman. Around her mother and her mother’s family, Sam had always felt like a freak—and an oversize one at that. “What about your dress? I’ll help you with that. Come on up to Minneapolis and I’ll take you shopping.”