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 to eat, since Dominick had gone to the trouble of cooking for him.
“Samantha married Wade this past September. Wade opened his own investment firm and Samantha runs a rescue ranch for horses. Luke is Wade’s son from his first marriage.” Dominick joined Travis and Charlie at the table. “Do you have any brothers or sisters?” he asked Charlie.
“Nope. I don’t even have a mom.” Charlie shrugged. “My dad said she ran away after I was born.”
Dominick’s dark eyebrows arched. Travis made no excuses for being truthful with his daughter. He wished more than ever his own mother had been truthful with him.
“Is Julie ever gonna be my mom?” Charlie always referred to her mother by first name. Travis assumed it was only natural, since she didn’t remember Julie.
“I don’t know, Charlie.”
“That’s okay. At least I got a dad and you always come back when your job gets over.” Charlie’s smile zapped Travis’s heart. He couldn’t remember the last time his daughter had said something so nice to him.
“That’s right, kiddo. I always come back.”
“What kind of work do you do?” Dominick asked.
“My dad works on a big—” Charlie raised her arms above her head “—oil rig in the ocean.”
For the first time since Travis had entered the kitchen, Dominick’s expression lightened. “What rig?”
“Exxon Mobil Hoover Diana.”
His father nodded as if he knew the exact location and history of the oil platform. “What’s your position-rig manager?”
Yeah, sure. He needed a college degree to run an oil rig.
Travis didn’t mention that he was up for a promotion following his leave of absence from the rig. After a few false starts with his career, he’d begun taking his job seriously. His dedication had paid off. The rig manager had rewarded his strong work ethic by assigning tasks outside a roughneck’s general duties. Travis had learned more about operating a rig in the past two years than he had in all his years working for oil companies. “I’m a roughneck.”
The light fizzled from Dominick’s eyes. “Everyone has to work their way up the ladder.”
Travis’s gut tightened. He shouldn’t care if Dominick was disappointed that his long-lost son was a lowly deckhand. What had the old man expected when Travis had been raised by a single mother who’d barely managed to make ends meet? Unlike Matt, Samantha and Duke, Travis hadn’t lived a privileged life.
“How long have you worked on rigs?” Dominick asked.
“Nine years.”
His father’s eyes rounded.
Travis had been young and rebellious his first few years in the business. He’d been put on probation twice and fired once. Like a lot of young hotheads without male role models in their lives, it had taken longer for Travis to settle down.
“So your grandmother took care of you while your dad worked?” Dominick’s voice shook when he asked Charlie the question. Travis wondered if the emotion was fueled by anger or sadness.
“Grandma was the best, but she’s in heaven now. She’s one of God’s angels.” Charlie tugged Travis’s shirtsleeve. “Can I go visit Fred?”
“Who’s Fred?”
“Grandpa’s old dog. He slept with us in the bunkhouse. He’s got ’thritus, right, Grandpa?”
“Arthritis,” Dominick clarified, then fired off another question at his granddaughter. “How old are you?”
“Eight. I’m in second grade and my birthday’s March 25th.”
“You’re awfully small for an eight-year-old. Do you drink enough milk?”
“I don’t know. Do I, Dad?” Charlie asked.
“Plenty.” Then Travis added for his father’s benefit, “Charlie’s mother is a petite woman.”
“What’s petite?” Charlie asked.
“Little, like you,” Travis answered.
“Julie’s really pretty. Dad’s got lots of pictures of her.”
Lots equated to a half-dozen snapshots he’d taken of Julie when they’d first begun dating. He’d kept the photos for Charlie’s sake—and to remind himself that pretty blondes were a waste of time.
“Brush your teeth before you play with the dog,” Travis said. A few weeks ago, he’d caught Charlie licking a dab of paste from the tube instead of using her toothbrush. Now he checked the bristles to make sure they were wet. She’d yet to figure out how he knew when she hadn’t brushed her teeth.
“I’ll brush ’em later.”
“Now.” He and his daughter engaged in a staredown. After several seconds, Charlie stomped out of the room.
“Spirited young gal,” Dominick said.
“I’d like to speak with you in private about Charlie before we leave.”
“You’re leaving?”
Had Dominick forgotten his rude behavior the previous night when he’d slammed his office door in Travis’s face? “It’s obvious you don’t