The Texan's Cowgirl Bride

“Dad’s still being a pain, huh?”

Savannah shrugged. “I can manage Dad. Avoidance works well, I’ve found. Though if he were to heal overnight and suddenly go back to work, I wouldn’t object.”

Lizzie held up her hands in surrender. “Okay, no more looking for ulterior motives.”

“Thank you.”

Lizzie grabbed a slice of toasted sourdough bread from the basket and dipped it in olive oil. “Heard you took quite a tumble the other night. Frank Owens in Accounting was at the rodeo and said he was surprised you were able to walk out of there on your own.”

“So that’s who called Dad?”

Lizzie shrugged. “He didn’t say, but I wouldn’t be surprised. He always has had his lips firmly attached to Dad’s behind.”

Savannah snorted just as she was taking a drink of water. Embarrassment flooded her cheeks as she tried to cover up her gaffe with her cloth napkin. “Warn a girl next time, would ya?”

Lizzie gave her an evil grin.

They talked some about Lizzie and Chris’s plans for the baby’s nursery, and it was obvious from how Lizzie’s face lit up every time she said Chris’s name that she was in love with him. It was great to see, but Savannah found it hard to imagine opening up that much to someone. When you loved another person, they held the power to hurt you. She had to look no further than her father for that.

One wife had walked out on him, and another had died. Though Savannah cared a lot for Julieta, she had to wonder if her dad was crazy for marrying a third time. Was being in love really worth all that pain? She liked things over which she had control. Still, she couldn’t deny the happiness her sister had found with Chris.

“I’m happy for you,” Savannah said. And maybe even a little envious, despite her best intentions. Her thoughts drifted to Travis, and she wondered what he was doing right in that moment, if he’d thought of her any since they’d parted company. But why would he?

“Thanks,” Lizzie said. “I guess you’re next up.”

“Lord, you sound like Abby.”

“And let me guess—she has some long, lanky cowboy picked out for you.”

“No, actually. I happened to bump into Travis Shepard at the rodeo, and she suddenly thinks we’re destined to be together.”

“Why does she think that?”

Savannah shrugged. “I don’t know. All I did was talk to him for a few minutes.” She didn’t mention the fact that he’d taken her to the hospital, waited for her, gotten her dinner and escorted her back to Abby’s trailer. But who was keeping track? Like he’d said, that’s what old friends were for.

“Well, there could be worse pairings. I saw Travis several months ago while he was eating dinner with Rita and her husband. Travis wouldn’t be difficult to look at every day.”

“We barely know each other anymore. And what is it with you? You’ve never been Mary Matchmaker before.”

“What can I say? Being in love is a wonderful feeling. Is it a bad thing to wish it for my sister, as well?”

Thankfully, their meals arrived then, and Savannah was able to steer her sister to different topics. But despite being hungry, Savannah couldn’t force down more than half her grilled salmon and mushroom risotto, and she loved risotto. She waited until Lizzie, who was eating for two, had finished before she ventured into the real reason for the lunch while trying to hide that fact from her sister.

“Since you got pregnant, has it made you think about Mom?”

Lizzie paused in wiping her mouth. “What brought that up?”

“Nothing. I just had a dream about her the other night.”

Lizzie placed her napkin slowly atop her empty plate. “Yeah, I started thinking about her when I found out. I still worry some about being like her, but knowing Chris will be right there beside me helps.” Lizzie paused and picked at the edge of the napkin. “I was sad for a bit that my child wouldn’t know his or her grandmother, but then I realized that Julieta will fill that role just fine.”

“Where do you think she might be now?”

Lizzie shook her head. “No idea. You’d have to ask Dad.”

Savannah wanted to do that about as much as she wanted to ride a bull with a hornet’s nest tied to its tail. They’d all learned long ago that the topic of their mother was one best left alone.

Lizzie’s forehead wrinkled as she stared at Savannah. “What is this really about?”

Savannah grasped for a plausible answer. “Guess I was just thinking about the past after seeing Travis. I found myself wondering how he got beyond losing Corinne.” In reality, she didn’t think he had.

“It’s not the same thing. Corinne had no choice in her leaving her loved ones behind. Mom did.”

Savannah could tell by the strained tone of Lizzie’s voice that the memories hurt her sister, and she was suddenly sorry for dredging them up. After the scare Lizzie had endured when she’d started spotting early in her pregnancy, she didn’t need anything to stress her out. There had to be another way to find the information Savannah needed. She let the subject drop, but it left an awkwardness hanging between her and Lizzie.

“I’m sorry, but I’ve got to run,” Lizzie said as she stood. “I’ve got a conference call in a few minutes.”

Savannah stood and hugged her sister. “Sorry if I ruined lunch.”

“You didn’t.”

Savannah wasn’t so sure as she watched her sister walk toward the exit, her shoulders tense.

After paying the bill, Savannah followed in her sister’s wake, walking slowly down the sidewalk toward where she’d parked. Even though people passed by her going both directions, business people, tourists, shoppers, she couldn’t recall ever feeling so alone. It was an odd feeling for someone who’d often found comfort in solitude, but then it had always been on her terms, in familiar surroundings. A solo ride or getting lost in baking or crafting was a nice reprieve sometimes. Now, the weight of all she hid, of the unknown, hung inside her. She yearned for some lessening of the pressure.

But telling anyone in her family about her fears wouldn’t help. In fact, she had no doubt that they would smother her with caring, with questions, with the inability to give her space when she needed it. What they couldn’t give her were the answers she needed. No one could except the one family member who was no longer a part of her life.

She slid into her truck and leaned her head back to stare at the ceiling. How did you find a person who obviously didn’t want to be found?

Travis’s smiling face materialized in her mind, causing her to jerk upright. Could he be the answer to her problem? She’d never been much of a believer in any fate other than what a person made for herself, but what were the odds she’d cross paths with a private investigator, one she knew, right when she needed help finding her mother?

She grabbed her phone and did a search for Travis’s P.I. firm. When she found the number, all she could do was stare at it. Did she really want to do this? Couldn’t she just wait and find out about her condition once the test results were back? Finding out her family history wasn’t going to change the end result one way or another.

But that wasn’t all that was going on, was it?

She might have been telling herself for the past two days that the reason she needed to find Delia Baron was medical, but that wasn’t the only reason. After years of keeping her feelings about her mom buried so deep she’d forgotten they even existed, that stupid lump in her breast had brought them surging to the surface. She needed to find her mother and ask the one question that really mattered.

Why did you leave us?

Chapter Four

Savannah chickened out. Part of her wasn’t sure she wanted to know where her mother was, why she’d up and abandoned her family with no explanation beyond a short note saying she needed to be alone. So instead of calling Travis, she went home and buried herself in the familiar comfort of baking. She’d seen a recipe for peach cake online and already had several ideas of how to adjust it to make it uniquely her own.

Gina had the afternoon off, so Savannah was alone in the store. She had HGTV playing on the TV and was in the midst of pouring cake batter into pans when the front door opened. She was about to call out that she’d be with the customer in a moment when she noticed it was her dad being pushed in his wheelchair by Juan, one of the farmhands.

When Juan shot Savannah an apologetic look, her stomach sank. Her frustration wasn’t helped by the file folder sitting on her father’s lap. She broke eye contact and took a deep breath as she finished scraping the batter into the pans, then rinsing the bowls in the large sink.

Juan parked her dad at one of the small tables then made himself scarce.