lips trembled uncontrollably as her thoughts shifted to her horse and the injury he’d suffered. Without him she couldn’t compete, and she’d lose her place in the standings and her chance for Las Vegas and a shot at the world title. But worse than the loss of the title was the thought of losing her best friend. And that was what Buddy was to her. They’d been a team for six years, traveling the circuit, sometimes even sharing a rented stall when Lacey lacked the funds for a motel room. In some ways, she felt closer to him than she did to her mother or her stepfather.
Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to block out the disturbing thoughts.
But another, even more troubling image, slipped in to replace them.
Travis Cordell.
Even as she thought of him, the iron bed creaked in the other room, reminding her of his presence in the small cabin. She pulled the blanket to her chin, picturing him as he’d looked when she’d first discovered him in the cabin. Reared back against the headboard; that wall of muscled chest; wearing nothing but a rakish smile and a sheet draped low on his waist.
She remembered the feel of his arms around her from earlier that evening, when he’d pulled her onto his lap in the trailer, the magnetic pull of his sexy smile, the huskiness in his voice when he’d whispered his intention to make love with her on the trailer’s narrow cot.
She flopped to her opposite side and bunched the pillow beneath her cheek. She didn’t want to think about him. And she wouldn’t, she told herself firmly.
My brother married your cousin, so that makes us family.
Cousins.
Half sisters.
Nieces and nephews.
Family.
She felt the tears rising again, and was helpless to keep them back as her thoughts churned full circle once again.
Travis awakened with a start, lifting his head from his pillow to listen. Slowly, he pushed himself to an elbow and stared at the closed door from behind which the sound came.
A shiver chased down his spine as the muffled sobs that had awakened him grew louder, more desperate.
What was going on? Was she hurt? Sick? Having a nightmare?
Not my problem, he told himself and dropped back down on the mattress, pulling the pillow over his head to block out the sound. She’d made it more than clear that she didn’t want anything to do with him.
But the sobs continued, penetrating the thick down that covered his head and wearing on his nerves until he tossed the pillow aside with a growl and rolled to his feet. Muttering curses under his breath, he jerked on his jeans and stalked barefoot into the living room.
He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw her. Sitting on the sofa, limned by moonlight, her feet drawn up beneath her, her body bent almost double, her face buried in a pillow she held fisted across her lap. He couldn’t remember ever seeing a more pitiful sight…or hearing a more heartbreaking sound.
“Lacey?” he called softly.
When she didn’t respond, he crossed the room and hunkered down in front of her, bracing his hands on her knees. “Lacey. What’s wrong?”
She jerked away from his touch, curling tighter into herself. “Leave me alone,” she sobbed, her voice muffled by the pillow she kept pressed to her face.
Though there was nothing he’d like better, try as he might, Travis discovered he couldn’t leave her. With a resigned sigh, he pushed himself to his feet, then sank down on the couch beside her, draping an arm along the back of the couch behind her. He stared at the top of her head a moment, unsure what to do, then sighed again. He dropped his hand on top of her head and scrubbed roughly. “Hey. Come on. Nothing’s that bad.”
“Go away,” she wailed.
“Nope. Not until you stop your blubbering.”
She lifted her head from the pillow to glare at him, her eyes red and swollen, tears streaming down her face. “I’ll cry if I want to.”
He cocked his head thoughtfully as if reminded of something. “Isn’t there a song that goes something like that?” He hummed a few bars and then ducked, laughing, when she swung the pillow at him.
“Why can’t you just leave me alone?” she cried furiously.
He sobered quickly and cleared his throat. “Sorry. I was just trying to make you laugh.”
“Well, I’m not laughing.” She jerked the pillow back to her lap, wadding it into a ball, and stubbornly turned her face away from him.
“You’re not crying, either,” he pointed out gently.
And she didn’t want to cry any more. Especially not in front of him. But the tears were there, pushing at her throat. She shook back her hair and inhaled deeply, valiantly fighting them back.
“I guess you’ve had a pretty tough day, huh?” he said, watching her carefully.
She sniffed and dashed a finger beneath her nose. “I’ve had better.”
“The McClouds seem nice enough.”
Remembering Merideth and her caustic remarks, she replied bitterly, “Most of them.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me.”
She pressed her lips together as much in frustration as to hold back the tears. “I said I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Well, I do.”
She whirled to glare at him. “Why don’t you just go back to bed?”
“I will, if you’ll come with me.”
She snorted her opinion of his suggestion and whipped around to face the wall again.
He scooted closer. “Come on, Lacey. Why don’t you tell me what’s bothering you? Sometimes talking helps.”
He watched her chest swell and her chin quiver as she fought back the tears. But in spite of her efforts, a tear slipped over her lower lashes and slid down her cheek. Another quickly followed.
“Aw, Lace,” he said gruffly, and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, hugging her hard against his side. “Don’t start crying again.”
She struggled, obviously not wanting his comfort, but he tightened his hold on her, refusing to let her go. He felt a shudder move through her and when she tried to bury her face in the pillow again, he tugged it from her hands and tossed it aside. He forced her face against his shoulder, and it was as if he’d pulled the plug on a dam. He could feel the sobs that ripped through her body, the hot tears that scalded his arm and chest…and did what he felt any man would do in his place.
Prayed the well would soon run dry.
But in spite of his prayers, the sobs continued both in intensity and volume, until they echoed in his head and reverberated through his body.
“Lacey,” he said in concern, leaning to smooth her hair from her face. “You’ve got to stop or you’re going to make yourself sick.”
But she only cried that much harder.
“Is there something I can get you? Water? Aspirin?” When she didn’t respond, he dipped his chin and turned her face up toward his. “Isn’t there anything I can do?”
The eyes that met his were flooded with tears. “H-he didn’t w-want me.”
“Lucas?”
She hiccuped a sob and nodded, then buried her face in her hands, her shoulders heaving violently.
He wrapped his arm tighter around her. “His mistake,” he said gruffly. “The guy must have been an ass.”
“M-my