Roughneck Cowboy

“Tulapoint Elementary. The school serves the ranching community in our area.” She sipped her coffee. “What do you do for a living?”

“I work on oil rigs.”

“I imagine Dominick appreciates having one son who loves oil as much as he does.”

The verdict was still out. Before Travis had a chance to pry information about his father out of Sara, the front door crashed open.

Charlie’s shoes slapped against the wood floor. “Dad! Grandpa says we can take Fred home with us if we want him.” She skidded to a halt in the kitchen doorway. “You’re the lady from that pink house my dad and I ate in.”

Dominick joined Charlie in the kitchen. When he noticed his neighbor, the smile on his face evaporated. “Sara.”

“Sara would like to speak with you.” Travis stood. “C’mon, Charlie, let’s check on—”

“Stay.”

Travis froze.

“Have you decided to sell to me?” Dominick asked Sara.

Sara’s broad shoulders stiffened. “Is there somewhere we can talk in private?”

“Charlie, go upstairs and brush your teeth,” Travis said.

“I already did.”

“Then brush them again.”

“Jeez,” Charlie muttered beneath her breath and stomped from the room.

Sara pulled a letter from the pocket of her coat and thrust it at Dominick. “What’s the meaning of this?”

“Self-explanatory, isn’t it?”

“You intend to sue us for damages?”

Sue? Travis gaped at his father.

“I didn’t say much when one or two of your cows got loose on my land, but the whole herd broke through your fence last week and grazed my property.”

“I’m sure the fifty head of cattle you keep for show didn’t miss the three acres of grass our cows consumed before Cole and Gabe herded them back to the Bar T.”

“That’s not the point.” Dominick rubbed his jaw. “You Sanders are in over your heads.”

“We’re not selling the Bar T.”

“Your brothers feel differently about the situation.”

“I’m keeping my promise to my father—I’m not handing over our ranch to a greedy old man who already owns half the state of Oklahoma.”

“Then you’d better hire yourself a good lawyer.”

Sara’s chin jutted.

“Travis, talk some sense into my neighbor.” Dominick left the room.

“Well?” Sara huffed.

Travis blinked. “Well, what?”

“How do you plan to persuade me to give in to your father?”

“I don’t.”

“Why not? I thought all you Cartwright’s stuck together?”

“This is your fight, not mine. I’m heading back to Houston in a few days.”

Was it Travis’s imagination or had the fire in Sara Sanders’ eyes banked at his pronouncement?

Chapter Three

“Is it true that some guy showed up at the Lazy River, claiming to be a Cartwright?” Sara’s eldest brother, Cole, asked when she entered the barn Thanksgiving morning.

Tulapoint wasn’t a town, rather a map dot boasting a population of 323 people. It took only one phone call to crank the engine on the rumor mill. Not even a national holiday quieted the gossipmongers.

“’Fraid so.” Sara had been shocked that the man she’d seen at Beulah’s two evenings ago had been a Cartwright—according to rumors, a son Dominick had never known existed. “Wilma phoned earlier and said Samantha brought her a pumpkin pie.” The retired Sunday-school instructor battled lupus and, since she’d never married or had children, the local women checked in on her.

“What else did Samantha tell Wilma about the guy?”

“Travis broke the news that their mother recently died of cancer.” No matter the strain between the Sanderses and the Cartwrights, Sara felt sorry for Samantha and Matt. She suspected they’d held out hope that one day they might be reunited with their mother.

Cole grabbed a curry comb from the grooming belt around his hips and brushed Son of Sunshine’s coat. Her brother had purchased the infamous American quarter horse from Matt Cartwright for a measly five-hundred bucks. Their neighbor hadn’t said how he’d come to own the sterile stud and Cole hadn’t asked. SOS possessed a keen intelligence and plenty of “cow” attitude and heart. Pair those qualities with the animal’s ability to perform pinpoint stops, starts and turns, and Cole believed he’d landed the deal of the century.

“I doubt Dominick was too torn up over Charlotte’s death,” her brother said.

“According to Wilma, Travis and his daughter have been living in Houston with Charlotte all these years.”

“Is Travis married?”

“I don’t know.” Sara hadn’t noticed a wedding band, but that didn’t mean anything. Regardless of his marital status, she doubted a man as good looking as Travis suffered from a lack of female attention. Not that she cared about his love life. Sara was so over men, it wasn’t even funny.

Like most women her age, she wanted to marry and start a family of her own, but the one man she’d set her heart on had taught her a painful lesson—handsome men weren’t interested in country girls unless they had an ulterior motive. Her father had hired Josh as an extra hand during branding season and it didn’t take the cowboy long to cozy up to Sara and propose to her.

Once she’d fallen under Josh’s spell, he’d run off in the middle of the night with the Bar T’s prized bull, Sweetwater Blackie, in tow. The authorities had never been able to track down the bull and suspected Josh had sold the animal on the black market to a rancher somewhere in Mexico. Not only had Josh broken Sara’s heart, he’d stolen a fifteen-thousand-dollar bull and had made a fool out of her in front of family and friends.

After tucking the comb into the grooming belt, Cole led SOS outside and turned him loose in the paddock. Sara followed, planting her boot on the bottom rail. She stared into the distance for as far as the eye could see. Winter had turned the once lush green valley a dull, golden brown. Off in the distance, gently rolling hills were dotted with leafless oak and cypress trees. Sara loved this land. Come spring the area would transform into a verdant paradise as Black Angus grazed the green valleys, creating a picturesque setting.

I’m running out of options, Daddy. Help me find a way to save the ranch.