10. Kaycee
KAYCEE
The first time Travis stole half my sandwich, I blamed poor planning. The third time, I started making two.
I was halfway through a client file at his kitchen table when the back door opened and Travis came in with dust on his jeans and sweat darkening the collar of his T-shirt.
A pair of work gloves stuck out of his back pocket.
He crossed to the refrigerator and opened it, looking inside like something new might have appeared since breakfast.
“Your lunch is on the counter,” I said without looking up from my screen.
“That’s for me?”
“No. I made an extra sandwich for Bandit.”
He shut the refrigerator and picked up the plate. “He doesn’t deserve it.”
“You're welcome.”
He leaned down and kissed the top of my head before taking the chair across from me. I kept reading, although the paragraph on the screen suddenly required more concentration.
Three weeks ago, I'd needed directions to find his ranch.
Now I knew which cabinet held the coffee and where he kept the extra phone chargers.
I knew the drawer beside the stove stuck unless I lifted it slightly before pulling.
My favorite coffee creamer had taken up permanent space in his refrigerator, and the bathroom upstairs contained enough of my stuff that packing to come to Mustang Mountain meant grabbing a few changes of clothing.
None of it had required a discussion.
I still had my apartment. I still spent several days a week there when work made more sense from Bozeman, and Travis had never suggested I should give that up. We’d just gotten better at looking at our schedules and deciding where we wanted to be.
Most weeks, I wanted to be here more than I'd expected.
Travis finished half the sandwich in three bites and glanced at my laptop. “Are you almost done?”
“With lunch?”
“Work.”
“I have a call at one, then I'm free.”
“Good.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Why?”
“I need help in town.”
“With what?”
He took another bite. “Getting ready for the Harvest festival.”
I closed my laptop halfway. “Anything specific?”
“Beau needs help with the wagon.”
“He’s about as big as Paul Bunyan. What could he possibly need my help with?”
Travis pointed the last piece of sandwich at me. “Don't tell him that. His head's big enough.”
“I thought you liked Beau.”
“I do. Doesn't mean I want him getting too cocky around my girl.”
I smiled and reopened my laptop. “So what are we helping with?”
“Nothing complicated. The committee needs people setting up around the Mercantile, and Beau's bringing the Clydesdales in so they can get used to the route.”
“You could have led with Clydesdales.”
“I'll remember that.” He stood and carried the empty plate to the sink, then kissed me properly before heading back outside.
I watched him through the kitchen window until he disappeared toward the barn. Then I made myself go back to work.
Mustang Mountain had started changing for fall almost as soon as the rodeo ended.
The trees along Main Street had started turning yellow at the edges, and pumpkins had appeared outside the Mercantile.
Someone had already hung a banner across the road announcing the festival, even though the event was still more than two weeks away.
By the time Travis and I reached town that afternoon, several committee members were arguing over where to put hay bales without blocking parking.
Beau stood next to a long stock trailer near the edge of the street.
He was unloading a pair of Clydesdales that made Travis's horses look tiny by comparison.
The first stepped down carefully, the feathering around his hooves brushing the ramp, then stood next to Beau with his head well above the man's shoulder.
I stopped walking.
Travis looked at me. “Haven’t you ever seen a draft horse?”
“Not up this close and definitely not one that could carry my car.”
“He probably could.”
Beau glanced over. “Are you two planning to help or just stand there insulting my horses?”
“I didn't insult them,” I said. “I insulted my car.”
“That thing deserves it,” Travis said.
I elbowed him.
Beau handed Travis a lead rope while he brought the second horse down. Both animals were broad through the chest, with thick necks and heavy feet that made a dull thud against the pavement.
“They're beautiful,” I said.
Beau's expression softened when he looked toward them. “They're good boys.”
Travis glanced at me. “Don't encourage him.”
“I'm starting to understand why he likes the horses better than you.”
“Everybody likes the horses better than him,” Beau said.
I laughed.
We spent the next hour helping Beau walk the horses along the route planned for the festival wagon. The town committee wanted the Clydesdales accustomed to the banners, hay bales, and other decorations before the streets filled with people.
Beau didn't have to do much with them. A quiet word or a small shift of the lead was usually enough.
I watched one of the horses hesitate near a flapping banner outside the hardware store. Beau stopped with him instead of pulling, let the horse look, then walked forward when the animal relaxed.
“You're patient,” I said.
Beau shrugged. “It’s more effective than fighting with two thousand pounds.”
Travis laughed. “That's his secret. Lazy.”
Beau gave him a flat look. “Want to take him?”
“Nope.”
“Didn't think so.”
I smiled as we continued down the street.
Beau was quieter than Travis, but the two of them worked together without needing much conversation. Travis moved a temporary sign before Beau reached it. Beau took one horse while Travis handled the other around a delivery truck. Nobody discussed who should do what.
Watching them made it easy to understand why Travis had listened when Beau talked to him after the rodeo, even if he'd complained about it afterward.
Near the Mercantile, an older man stepped out carrying a box of decorations and stopped when he saw Travis.
“Well, Cole. Haven't seen you hauling anything out of Ruby's lately that required a designated driver.”
The joke wasn't very clever. I looked at Travis.
A month ago, I would have expected his jaw to tighten. Maybe hear him snap back with a smart reply.
He took the box out of the man's hands instead. “Where do you want this?”
The man blinked, then pointed toward his truck. “Over there.”
Travis carried it away. That was it. No argument, no explanation.
The man wandered back inside.
I caught up with Travis by the tailgate. “You're not going to say anything?”
“About what?”
“You know what.”
He set the box down and looked at me. “You know who I am.”
The answer was simple enough that I didn't need anything else. “Yeah,” I said. “I do.”
His mouth curved before Beau called him back toward the horses.
I stayed behind to help Ruby arrange a collection of painted pumpkins on the steps of the Merc.
“You two look settled,” she said.
I looked over. “Who?”
Ruby didn't bother to answer, just gave me one of her knowing grins. Across the street, Travis and Beau were adjusting one of the harness straps while the larger Clydesdale stood patiently between them.
“That's a dangerous word,” I said.
“What is?”
“Settled.”
Ruby moved a pumpkin two inches to the left. “Only if you think it means stuck.”
I looked at her.
She smiled. “That piece of advice is free.”
“Do you charge for the rest?”
“I might have to start if the stubborn single men around here don’t start listening to me.”
Before I could respond, Morgan came out of City Hall carrying a folder. She spotted me and changed direction. I knew that look.
“No.”
Morgan stopped. “I haven't said anything yet.”
“You have a folder.”
“So?”
“Folders have caused me enough trouble in this town.”
Ruby laughed and set another pumpkin on the steps.
Morgan held up both hands. “This isn’t an audit.”
“Keep talking.” I put a hand on my hip, waiting to find out how involved she expected me to be.
“I found the Hale name again.”
That got my attention. “What kind of record?”
“Livestock.”
I looked at the folder, then at her. “That's officially not my audit.”
“I know.” Morgan laughed. “I'm not asking you to do anything. I just thought you'd want to know.”
I did. That was irritating. “What does it say?”
“Not enough yet. There are Hale references in an old livestock ledger that overlaps some of the Cedar Draw entries.” She tucked the folder under her arm. “I'm going to dig into it.”
I glanced across the street. Beau was leading one of the Clydesdales toward the trailer while Travis followed with the other.
Livestock… Hale… That could become somebody else's problem.
“Good luck,” I said.
Morgan narrowed her eyes. “You sound pretty pleased to say that.”
“I am.”
“Can I call if I need your opinion on something?”
“You know you can.” I shook my head. She’d drag me into this one way or another.
“Thanks. I’ll reach out when I need you.” She smiled again, then headed back toward City Hall.
I joined Travis and Beau near the trailer.
“Everything okay?” Travis asked.
“Morgan found another Hale reference in some livestock records.”
He groaned. “You working again?”
“No.”
Beau looked between us. “Hale?”
“It’s a long story,” Travis said.
Beau glanced toward Morgan as she disappeared inside City Hall. “What kind of livestock records?”
“Old ones,” I said. “Possibly tied to some of the Cedar Draw accounts.”
He rested one hand on the trailer door. “Cattle?”
“Morgan isn’t sure yet.”
“Could be horses,” Travis said. “Cedar Draw moved more than cattle.”
Beau looked back toward City Hall, his expression thoughtful. “I've got some old sale and trade ledgers at the barn. Never had much reason to look through them.”
That got my attention. “How old?”
“Old enough that half the handwriting looks like it was done from horseback.”
Travis laughed. “Sounds useful.”
“Sounds like Morgan's problem,” I said.
Beau gave me a look. “You sure you're done with all this?”
“Completely.”
“Good.” He latched the trailer and checked it once before stepping back. “If Morgan wants the ledgers, tell her to call me.”
“I will.”
Beau climbed into the truck, and a moment later the trailer pulled away from the curb with the Clydesdales shifting quietly inside.
Travis watched him go. “Do you think he has any idea what he's volunteering for?”
“No.”
“Should we warn him?”
I took Travis's hand. “Absolutely not.”
He grinned and led me toward his truck.
The sun was dropping behind the mountains by the time we reached the ranch. I went upstairs to finish packing a few things to head back to Bozeman while Travis checked the horses.
My overnight bag sat open on the bed. I put my laptop charger inside, added two shirts, then stopped when I realized my toothbrush wasn't there.
It was still in the bathroom. I left it.
Travis came upstairs a few minutes later and leaned against the bedroom doorway. His gaze moved from me to the bag.
“When are you back?” He didn’t ask if I was coming back or how long I’d be gone. Just when I’d be back.
“Thursday.”
“Good.”
I zipped the bag.
Travis looked toward the bathroom. “Are you forgetting anything?”
“My toothbrush is staying.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes.”
He crossed the room. “At this rate, you're going to end up living here.”
I hooked my fingers through his belt loops and pulled him closer. “I haven't decided yet if I'm staying in Mustang Mountain forever.”
His eyebrows lifted.
I smiled. “But I'm keeping the cowboy.”
“That’s one lucky cowboy.” He kissed me, slow and familiar, one hand settling at my waist. When he pulled back, he didn't let me go. “I love you, Kaycee.”
There was no hesitation in it. No joke afterward to make the words easier to take back.
I touched his face. “I love you too.”
His mouth curved, and he kissed me again. When he finally lifted his head, his gaze went to the overnight bag sitting open on the bed. “You know, you could stop packing that thing every few days.”
I looked at him. “Is that your subtle way of asking me to move in?”
“I wasn't trying to be subtle.”
“You're sure?”
Travis slid his hand around the back of my neck. “Very.”
I smiled. “Then maybe it's time I brought the rest of my stuff.”
His grin widened. “About damn time.”
Tomorrow I'd drive back to Bozeman to pack. Then I'd come home to the man who’d shown me who he was and finally trusted me enough to believe me when I chose him.