Claimed by a Cowboy

“How’re you holding up?”

Whipping her head around, she spotted Sam Travis. He was perched on the ramp railing that ran the length of the building. She’d seen him earlier—without his cowboy hat, for once—talking to Clinton and Ava Hirsch, and she’d been relieved when he didn’t approach her. Sam made her…uneasy, a sensation she hadn’t experienced in a long time.

By the end of elementary school, she’d known she didn’t fit in with other kids. They labeled her a math geek and didn’t invite her to the giggly slumber parties her female classmates later rehashed in the cafeteria. She’d told herself it didn’t matter. At thirteen, she’d decided she was getting out of town as soon as possible. In college, she’d bonded with students similar to her and had been comfortable in her own skin ever since. She knew who she was and what she wanted out of life. She made sensible decisions, such as dating imminently compatible men and not wearing ridiculously high-heeled shoes that could injure her joints or back.

But something about Sam made her feel as if she were teetering even in her practical pumps. She swallowed. “Wh-what are you doing out here?”

“Same thing as you. Hiding.”

She bristled at the implied cowardice. “I’m not ‘hiding,’ Mr. Travis. I just—”

“Easy, darlin’. I wasn’t criticizing. There are a lot of very emotional, very talkative people in that building. Enough to make anyone skittish.” He shook his head. “Not that Wanda would have bolted. She was damn good at listening to everyone, making them feel welcome. Special.”

Lorelei was torn. She knew what he meant, yet how many times growing up had she tried to explain to her mother how she felt? How often had Lorelei retreated to her room, frustrated that her mother wouldn’t listen?

“I’ve always felt so removed from her,” Lorelei heard herself admit. She wasn’t sure why she was confiding in him, but she’d be gone soon—back to her real life—so what did it matter? “I tried telling myself I take after Dad, but I don’t think it’s true. He and Mom were like two peas in a pod, and I was, I don’t know, some kind of changeling baby.” Of all the crazy legends her mom had ever voiced, that one Lorelei could have believed.

Sam squinted at her from his spot in the shade. “You were how old when you lost your dad?”

“Six when he was diagnosed, seven when he died.”

“I was nine when I lost my father. I don’t know about you, but a lot of the memories I have are hazy. Maybe you’re more like him than you recall.”

There he went again, knocking her off balance. She hadn’t expected him to try to comfort her. Nor had she expected them to have anything in common. She wondered how he’d lost his own father, if the tragedy had brought Sam and his mother closer.

“I should go back inside,” she said, unenthusiastic about the prospect. “The service will be starting soon.” The hours she’d spent working on the eulogy had been grueling, but she didn’t back down from a challenge.

Sam nodded. “I’ll be along in a minute. You look real nice, by the way.”

Could he guess how many times she’d changed, trying to decide the right thing to wear? The navy-and-yellow print sheath dress allowed her to wear the big bright yellow earrings her mom had sent for her birthday; the cropped navy blazer helped subdue the outfit enough for the occasion.

Wanting to downplay the way she’d overanalyzed her decision, she made light of Sam’s compliment, keeping her voice wry enough that he wouldn’t take her seriously. “I don’t think it’s appropriate to flirt with the deceased’s daughter.”

He rolled his eyes. “I just meant it’s good to see you wearing some color. She would have liked that.”

“Says the man in head-to-toe black?” She doubted Sam owned a suit. Today he was showing respect in black boots, crisp jeans that looked starched to within an inch of their life and a black button-down shirt that was a dramatic foil to his light hair and eyes.

“Well.” His expression didn’t change, but there was a grin in his voice. “I had planned to accessorize with yellow, too, but I couldn’t find my headband.”

Lorelei laughed before she could stop herself. “I’ll see you inside. And thank you.”

He inclined his head in a silent “you’re welcome,” and she turned to go. When she’d fled the guests in the building, her body had been rigid with tension. Now, though far from relaxed, she felt calm enough to deliver her mother’s eulogy. How had a virtual stranger Lorelei didn’t especially like known what to say? He’d even made her laugh, which was a hell of a feat on this particular occasion.

Lorelei still didn’t have the whole story on how Sam and Wanda had become friends, but she understood how much her flamboyant mother had appreciated people who were unpredictable. And Sam Travis was full of surprises.

THE BARRAGE OF MOURNERS and conversation didn’t stop after the memorial service; it followed Lorelei back to the inn. She would forever be grateful to local B and B owners Clare Theo and Bertha Hoffman—women who’d respected Wanda enough to want to honor her without being so close to her that they were overcome with their own grief. They took point on making gallons of coffee and splitting hostess duties, managing the flow of traffic through the downstairs rooms.

Though his truck was in its customary spot out back, Lorelei hadn’t spotted Sam in the throng. Was he avoiding the crowd, sequestered away in his room, or was he in this crush somewhere? People kept coming up to hug her and present her with foil-covered dishes. She had enough king ranch casseroles and pecan pies to last until summer. Thank God her mother had purchased a deep freeze, because the refrigerator was long past full.

“Lorelei?” Ava’s voice broke through the hum of surrounding conversations. “Lorelei, dear?”

Lorelei glanced over a petite blonde who’d been extolling the virtues of cheddar mashed potatoes as comfort food and saw Ava totter into the formal dining room, wobbling on fancy shoes and too little sleep. Lorelei thanked the guest whose name she’d never quite caught and met Ava in the center of the room.

“I’m glad to see a friendly face,” Lorelei said. “This is all a bit…overwhelming.”

“Let’s go upstairs,” Ava suggested. She hesitated before adding, “The lawyer’s ready for us.”

Lorelei had met Robert Stork earlier in the week when he’d come by with a fruit basket to offer his condolences. He was a sandy-haired man with a round face that made him look barely old enough to drive. She’d been startled when he first introduced himself.

“But Mr. Stork is a white-haired man shorter than I am,” she’d blurted, remembering the attorney from her dad’s death.

“You’re thinking of my father, for whom I’m named,” Robert the younger had said. “He’s retired and plays a lot of golf now. I took over the family business.”

And part of Stork Jr.’s business was to go over Wanda’s last wishes with Lorelei and Ava.

Lorelei took a deep breath, steadying herself. “Lead the way.”

Instead of going up the steps at the front of the house where all the guests were, the two women detoured to the laundry room and took the narrow spiral of back stairs. Library was a rather pretentious term for what Lorelei suspected had once been a generously sized walk-in closet. The cramped area was furnished with four chairs too close together for personal space and built-in shelves, probably meant for linens but now filled with books. Still, the tiny room had the advantage of being removed from the nonstop conversation and parade of food on the first floor.

Just before they reached the room, Ava paused, twisting the slim gold bracelets on her wrist.

“What is it?” Lorelei asked. For obvious reasons, Ava hadn’t been very jovial today. Yet now her expression seemed particularly troubled.

“I…nothing, dear. We should probably get this over with.”

Lorelei offered a nod of encouragement and they proceeded. Surprisingly, two of the four chairs were already filled. In addition to the lawyer, Sam Travis was also present. Lorelei’s eyebrows rose. Then again, maybe she shouldn’t be so surprised to see him. He’d obviously cared enough about Wanda to brave her demon cat; it would be like Lorelei’s mother to leave him something to remember her by, something of sentimental value. Lorelei studied the tall man, hunched in his chair and staring intently at his folded hands. Sam Travis didn’t seem like a man who was easily sentimental.

Ava slid into the chair next to Mr. Stork. That left Lorelei with the seat closest to Sam, a rather pointless distinction since all four chairs were so close their occupants could practically bump knees. With Sam’s kindness to her earlier still fresh in mind, she tried exchanging smiles with the man but he wouldn’t meet her gaze. The expression froze awkwardly on her face as she took her seat. This wasn’t an appropriate time to be grinning at cowboys, anyway. She adopted the air of solemn reserve she used to get through difficult meetings, the ones where she had to tell people things they didn’t want to hear, and looked expectantly at the attorney.

Robert’s ruddy complexion flushed an ever deeper red as he sorted through pages. “As all three of Wanda Keller’s beneficiaries are now present, I shall begin?” In contrast to the words, his tone was pure halting question, as if he were a timid boy asking a parent’s permission to stay up past his bed time.

Ava patted his hand. “You’re doing fine.”

Just how recently had his father retired? Lorelei wondered. He gave the impression this was his first day on the job.

“Thank you, Mrs. Hirsch. We’ll start with you, with a message from Wanda.” He shuffled his papers some more, stopping a moment later and clearing his throat. “‘To my friend Ava, thank you for always being there. I can’t express my gratitude for your support over the years. You are such a special, generous soul that even Oberon likes you.’”

Stiffening in her chair, Ava muttered, “The hell he does.”

Robert ignored the aside and kept reading. “‘I even thought of asking you to be his guardian once I’ve passed, but ultimately decided that he should stay with the inn. After all, it’s his home.’”

Stay with the inn? Lorelei managed not to grimace. How was she going to make that a condition of sale? Beautiful, well-kept bed-and-breakfast…plus, one evil-tempered feline with possible Satanic affiliations. Her attention divided, Lorelei listened absently as Robert detailed the personal possessions Wanda had wanted her best friend to have. Among the keepsakes were an antique tea set, a fluted stoneware pie plate, a silver pig charm bracelet and Wanda’s dragonfly wind chimes. It was difficult to imagine standing downstairs in the kitchen and not hearing their music tinkling through the window.

Not that she would be standing in the B-and-B kitchen after this trip, she reminded herself. It was right that Ava should take the chimes. They should go to someone who’d known how much Wanda loved them. She’d believed they brought a bit of good luck each time they rang.

Robert turned to Lorelei, his expression apologetic. “You’re listed next, Miss Keller. Do you…need a moment? Before we continue?”

And drag out what had already been one of the longest, most difficult days of her life? “No. Let’s keep this moving along,” she suggested, her voice tense.