a signal that she was ready to move. Daisy, like the sweetly trained animal she was, responded beautifully, leaving Travis behind in a cloud of dust.
It was all Megan could do not to laugh out loud, especially after she heard his muttered remarks between the sounds of his coughing.
However, the urge to laugh was quickly gone. There was no reason to be taking her bad mood out on Travis, despite her dislike of him. It wasn’t his fault that she felt like such a failure.
She couldn’t shake the sense of impending doom that was with her from the time she opened her eyes each morning until she fell asleep exhausted each night.
Whether she liked it or not, she and her sisters were going to lose the ranch. It was only a matter of a few weeks now before the mortgage was due. Despite all her efforts, she would have to tell the bank manager that she couldn’t make this year’s payment. The O’Briens of Agua Verde County, Texas, were going to lose the Circle B after the ranch had been in the family for four generations.
Megan had been in charge of the place for the past eight years. She’d done everything she could to pull them through this bad patch, but it was more than a patch. For the past three years everything had been going from bad to worse.
She’d done everything she could, but it wasn’t enough. It was never enough.
Butch was waiting for her when she arrived at the barn. “Did your company find ya?” he asked when she got off the horse. “I wasn’t sure what to tell him other than you’d taken off to the hills somewhere. Where ya been?”
“Yeah, he found me. I was checking the southeast pasture and discovered there was no water in the holding tank. The windmill’s frozen up. There’s no way to fix it without ordering a new part for it.”
“You want me to crawl up there and check it out, just in case something can be done?”
She shook her head. “I already did. The whole thing is worn-out. I need to replace the entire rig, but I can’t. A new part will get us through the worst of the heat. Maybe by fall I can—” She stopped because there was no use talking about the fall. By then, the ranch would no longer be theirs…unless she could somehow produce a miracle.
A sense of futility swept over her.
They both turned at the sound of an engine and watched as a late-model pickup with Travis behind the wheel appeared. He made a sweeping turn and stopped in front of the house.
“Somebody mentioned to me yesterday that Travis was back in town for a few days,” Butch said, rolling a handmade cigarette. “It kinda surprised me when he showed up, asking for you. I didn’t think the two of you were exactly on good speaking terms.”
She turned away from the house and led Daisy into the barn. Butch followed her, placing the newly formed cigarette behind his ear. “We’re not,” she said, leading Daisy into her stall, “but you know how Travis is. He just naturally thinks he’s God’s gift to us all and that we should feel honored that he decides to visit.”
Butch uncinched the saddle and lifted it off the horse while Megan wiped her down. “So what did he want?”
She shrugged without looking around. “He said he wanted to talk to me about something. I can’t imagine what.”
“Maybe he got wind of the trouble you’ve been having. You reckon he might want to buy this place from you?”
She poured some grain into the feed trough of the stall. “He’s not that stupid. Why would he want a place like this? He’s never home. Besides, the Kanes already own a large portion of the county. Why would Travis take on another spread?”
“’Cause his pappy’s young enough and healthy enough to be running their place for a long time, yet. Travis never was one to want to answer to anybody, not even his dad.” Butch grinned at the thought. “Most especially his dad, if you want to know the truth.” He stepped out of the stall and held the door open for her.
She motioned to the nearly empty feed storage bin as they retraced their steps to the barn door. “Did you remember to pick up the grain at the feed store today?” she asked, ignoring the fact that Travis now was leaning against the front fender of his pickup truck, watching, and making no effort to join them.
Butch took his time lighting his cigarette, then he removed his hat and carefully smoothed down his sparse and receding hair before replacing his battered hat. “Yeah, I got the feed. It’s still in the back end of my truck. Ol’ man Brogan said that unless you pay something on the account, he can’t give you any more credit after this.” He recited the message without inflection, studying the horizon.
“So what else is new?”
“It isn’t just you, you’ve got to know that. Everybody in the county’s been hit hard by this drought. It’s been rough. They’re all having to supplement the feed to keep the stock fed.”
“I know.”
“Ranching’s never been a way to get rich, missy. It’s a hard life.”
“You aren’t telling me anything I don’t already know, Butch.” Megan rubbed the back of her neck. “However, the ranch is my life. It’s the only one I know. It’s Mollie’s and Maribeth’s home.”
He awkwardly patted her shoulder. “You’ve done a fine job, missy. A fine job. You took on way too much responsibility trying to look after the girls and run this place all by yourself, but you showed everybody you could do it. Don’t feel bad if you have to give up now.”
She stiffened at the mention of her sisters. “We’ve done just fine so far on our own. You just said it’s nobody’s fault the drought’s lasted so long. Well, it isn’t my fault that all our equipment seems to be breaking down at once, or that the blasted well for the house ran dry last month and we had to drill another one.”
“I never said it was anybody’s fault. Don’t start gettin’ so prickly. All I’m sayin’ is that a young gal like you shouldn’t have to be shoulderin’ such a heavy burden. You should be out enjoying life with friends of your own.”
She gave an unladylike snort. “My friends are mostly married and busy raising families. At least Mollie and Maribeth are old enough to look after themselves.”
He nodded toward Travis. “So when are you goin’ over to find out why he’s hanging around here? He don’t look like he’s plannin’ on going anywhere anytime soon, so ignorin’ him isn’t going to help ya none.”
Once again she looked over to where Travis waited—his long legs crossed at the ankles, his arms folded across his chest—still leaning against his truck.
She glanced to the west before she spoke again. “I don’t suppose this day could get any worse than it already has. I’ll go see what it’s going to take to get rid of him.”
“I wish I had the money you needed. I’d sure give it to you if I did have it,” Butch said in a gruff voice.
She patted his arm and smiled. “I know, Butch.”
“I watched you girls grow up. I seen every one of you in diapers, following your folks around, playing with one another. Rory and June were always so proud of their girls. They wanted the very best for you. Always.”
“I know. Sometimes life just works out different from what we plan…what we want.” Straightening her shoulders, Megan turned away from Butch and headed toward the house, where Travis stood waiting.
Megan was aware of Travis watching her as she crossed between the barn and the house. She was well aware of what he saw—a skinny blond with a mop haircut, a plain face with a mouth too wide and, from the feel of it, a glowing, sunburned nose covered with a smattering of freckles.
Her coveralls were old, faded and wearing thin in some places, while her work boots were too scuffed to be able to tell their original color.
A regular fashion plate, that’s