7. Travis
TRAVIS
I woke up Monday morning with Kaycee Harper in my bed and spent a solid minute watching her sleep.
She was on her stomach, one arm tucked under her cheek and most of the sheet twisted around her legs.
Her hair spread across my pillow instead of pulled back the way she usually wore it, and her glasses sat next to a half-empty bottle of water on the nightstand.
Women had slept in my bed before. That wasn't exactly breaking news in Mustang Mountain. But I couldn't remember ever lying there noticing where somebody had left her glasses or thinking about how her hair looked on my pillow.
Usually I knew what came next before either of us opened our eyes. Somebody got dressed and found their keys. That was pretty much the end of it.
Kaycee had told me she wasn't leaving. Then she'd stayed.
I eased out of bed without waking her and pulled on my jeans. The ranch didn't care what time I'd gone to sleep, and the cattle sure as hell didn't care that I'd rather stay in bed and wake her up with my cheeks between her thighs.
By the time I'd checked the closest pasture and made sure Bandit hadn't found a new way to wreck a gate, the sun had started clearing the mountains.
Labor Day promised another warm afternoon, but the morning still had enough bite that I wished I'd grabbed a shirt with sleeves before heading outside.
When I came through the back door, Kaycee stood barefoot in my kitchen wearing nothing but one of my gray T-shirts.
I stopped with one hand still on the door.
She looked over from the coffee maker. “You know staring is still rude in daylight.”
“I’m just getting used to the view.”
My shirt hung loose on her and fell almost to her knees. Her own shirt was draped over the back of a chair, and her phone was plugged into the outlet beside the refrigerator.
She handed me a mug. “Want some coffee?”
“You figured out the machine.”
“I'm an accountant, Travis. Buttons don't scare me.”
I took the mug and leaned against the counter. She'd already found the sugar without asking, and my good travel mug sat open next to her purse like she'd been considering filling it for the drive.
I took a drink.
“We should head back soon,” she said. “I want to check the bank response before the finals start.”
The coffee stopped halfway to my mouth. “Right.”
Kaycee studied me over the rim of her mug. “Are you still planning to wrestle another steer today?”
“That's generally what happens in steer wrestling.”
“I thought maybe you'd wake up sensible.”
“Hasn't happened yet.”
“Give me time.” Her smile made it easy to think about giving her exactly that… as much time as she wanted.
An hour later, she'd changed back into her own clothes, and we headed toward Mustang Mountain with her overnight stay reduced to a purse at her feet and a car still sitting at the rodeo grounds.
We were a few miles outside town when movement along the tree line made me ease off the gas.
Kaycee straightened. “What?”
Two dark shapes moved through the tall grass beyond the fence. The wolf stopped near the edge of the trees and looked toward the road while the other animal kept moving, head low as she followed the timberline.
Kaycee leaned toward the windshield. “That’s a wolf.”
“Yeah.”
She turned to me. “You sound pretty calm about that.”
“It’s just Hades. Looks like he broke Persephone out of her kennel to go for a run this morning.”
She swiveled to look at me, her eyes wide. “They have names?”
“Hades has been hanging around Mustang Mountain for years. He’s more town mascot than wild animal. Fell in love with a sled dog and their romance is a hot topic of conversation around town.”
The two stayed well away from the road, moving parallel to us for another few seconds. Hades paused again before following Persephone into the pines.
Kaycee watched until they disappeared. “Why am I not surprised this town has a wolf for a mascot?”
“You've met Ruby. This shouldn't shock you.” I laughed and brought the truck back up to speed.
The rodeo grounds were already filling when we pulled in.
Horse trailers lined the back lot. Contestants moved between rigs with tack over their shoulders while volunteers hauled coolers toward the concession stands.
Somebody tested the announcer's microphone and sent a blast of feedback across the grounds that made three tied horses throw up their heads.
Kaycee's car was exactly where she'd left it. So was Ruby's truck two rows over.
I parked next to Kaycee's car and shut off the engine. Two committee volunteers crossed the lot in front of us. One looked at my truck, looked at Kaycee in the passenger seat, then leaned closer to the guy beside him.
Kaycee caught me watching. “You're doing it again.”
“Doing what?”
“Checking who's looking.”
“I'm not checking.”
She waited.
“Fine. I noticed.”
“I meant what I said last night.” Before I could answer, she leaned over the console and kissed me.
It wasn't long enough to cause a scene. But it was long enough that the two volunteers definitely saw it.
Kaycee pulled away and reached for the door handle.
I caught her wrist. “You know that didn't exactly help with the talking.”
“I know.” She smiled and climbed out.
I stayed behind the wheel long enough to watch her cross to her car and grab the bag she'd left inside. She didn't look around to see who'd noticed. Didn't act like she'd done anything she needed to explain.
I turned the key and moved my truck over by the contestant rigs.
The Labor Day crowd was the biggest we'd had all weekend.
By the time I got Bandit saddled and worked my way toward the contestant area, the grandstands were filling and the smell of burgers and onions drifted over from the food vendors.
Kids leaned against the fence hoping somebody would stop for a picture, and Jace moved around the back pens with a radio in one hand and the look of a man who'd already put in a twelve-hour day.
I helped move a steer into the right holding pen, checked my draw, then walked Bandit toward the warm-up area.
Normally the last half hour before a run was easy. I thought about the steer and watched how the cattle were breaking out of the box. If one leaned left, I wanted to know it. If the ground near the line had gotten loose, I wanted to know that too.
But this morning, I kept looking toward the rail.
I found Kaycee standing next to Addison near the grandstand. Addison was talking while Kaycee watched one of the earlier runs, her glasses pushed up on top of her head to get them out of the way.
Then she looked toward the warm-up area and found me. She lifted her hand in a wave.
I nodded, then shifted my grip on the reins and turned Bandit toward the box.
The steer broke clean. Bandit came out hard as soon as the barrier released. I let him make up the ground, got even with the steer, then reached and came off the horse with my right hand on the horn.
My boots hit dirt. I caught the other horn, turned the steer's head, and used his forward motion instead of trying to muscle him backward. He rolled onto his side, and I let go before pushing to my feet.
The announcer called the time. Good enough for first. At least for now.
I brushed dirt from my jeans and reached for Bandit's reins, but my eyes went to the rail first.
Kaycee was standing. Her hands were cupped around her mouth.
I grinned.
Another cowboy beat my time later by less than two-tenths of a second.
Normally I'd have spent the rest of the afternoon replaying where I'd lost it. Maybe I'd gotten out of the box half a beat late. Maybe I'd let the steer get one extra step before I dropped.
Instead, I collected second-place money and gave Bandit a rub between the ears before I went looking for Kaycee.
I found her behind the rodeo office with her phone in one hand.
“You yelled again.”
She looked up. “Hello to you too.”
“You yelled my name.”
“I was surrounded by several hundred loud people. You can't prove anything.”
“Pretty sure I can find witnesses.”
“I'll challenge their credibility.”
I was about to tell her Addison would sell her out in under five seconds when Kaycee glanced back at her phone.
I stopped next to her. “Did you get an update?”
She nodded.
We moved farther along the side of the building, away from the volunteers going in and out of the office.
“The transfer wasn't random,” she said. “It isn't connected to the Pritchard payments or the questionable supplier transactions I've been tracing. I confirmed the originating account belongs to a legitimate entity that absorbed some of the older Cedar Draw holdings.”
“So somebody there sent me five grand?”
“It’s not quite that simple.” She pulled up something on her phone. “The payment was tied to the Parcel 17-B designation and your current lease. I still need more records before I can tell you why that old parcel number was used or why that amount was due.”
I hooked my thumbs through my belt loops. “That's the part I'd like to know.”
“I know. But I can tell you something else now.” She looked straight at me. “You didn't do anything wrong.”
I studied her face. She wasn't smiling, and she wasn't giving me the answer because she thought it was the one I wanted. “You're sure?”
“I have the evidence.”
She'd been saying the same thing from the first day we met. She didn't work off reputations, mine included.
“The money didn't come from Roy Pritchard or any of the supplier accounts involved in the livestock discrepancies,” she continued.
“There's no indication you requested it, initiated the transfer, or knew anything about the account that sent it.
As far as the audit is concerned, you're not responsible for that deposit.”
I rubbed a hand over my jaw and looked toward the arena. Five thousand dollars had shown up in my account, and the committee had flagged it. I'd spent the better part of a week expecting Mustang Mountain to decide this was one more mess I’d made for myself.
Kaycee had followed the money instead.
“What about the committee?”
“I’ll tell them the same thing.”
I nodded.
“You don't look all that excited,” she said.
“I am.”
“That was convincing.”
I looked back at her. “So what happens now?”
“I still need the 1912 record we found yesterday and a few things related to the Cedar Draw account itself. But the part involving you is basically resolved.”
I scraped the toe of my boot through the dirt. “So you don't need anything else from me?”
“Probably not.” Her mouth curved. “Congratulations. You're officially boring.”
“That might be the worst thing anybody's ever called me.”
“That seems statistically unlikely.”
I smiled because she expected me to.
Kaycee slipped her phone into her pocket and stepped closer. “This is good news. The committee wanted to know whether you were involved, and now they have an answer.”
“I know.”
She watched me for another second then her lips parted like she was going to ask me something. I leaned down and kissed her instead. That was easier than answering questions I didn't have answers for.
Her hand came up against my chest, her fingers catching in the front of my shirt. I kept one hand at her waist and took another kiss because I could.
Somebody inside the rodeo office called her name.
Kaycee sighed against my mouth. “Duty calls.”
“Tell them you're busy.”
“I don't think that's how employment works.”
“Seems like a bad system.”
She smiled and touched my jaw. “I'll find you later.”
I watched her head toward the office. She stopped halfway there when one of the committee members caught her with a question, and she immediately reached for her phone again. A minute later they disappeared inside together.
My second-place check was folded in my back pocket. The five-thousand-dollar deposit wasn't hanging over my head anymore. Kaycee could walk into that office and tell the committee exactly what I'd been saying since the beginning.
I should've gone back to Bandit. Instead, I stood beside the building looking at the door she'd just gone through.
She didn't need another box of records from my ranch. She didn't need me to show her Parcel 17-B or explain anything else about the lease. Once she found that 1912 record and finished whatever was left with Cedar Draw, she'd write her report. Then she'd go back to Bozeman.
I finally pushed away from the wall and headed toward the contestant lot. For the first time all week, the five thousand dollars wasn't the problem I couldn't get out of my head.