3. Charlie
Chapter 3
Charlie
As I round the bend, the golden sunset makes it impossible to see clearly, but the outline of Paisley comes into view. I tuck myself behind a tree, right beside the path to catch my breath once I realize she isn’t in immediate danger.
It’s quite the opposite. Paisley is leaning over the fence, stroking the nose of a large brown horse. Six feet to her right is what can only be described as the shadowy outline of a cowboy. My eyes whip back and forth between them.
“We can do that,” the man says. He winks and takes a step toward Paisley, offering her a fist bump.
I explode out from behind the tree still panting but determined. “You won’t be doing anything.” I jump between them, putting a hand on Paisley’s shoulder and tugging her away from him. I wield my pepper spray like a sword challenging him to take another step toward us.
Paisley tilts her head. “Mom, what are you doing?”
“I’m saving you.”
“From what?” The cowboy asks, his forehead wrinkles with confusion as he looks behind us.
“From… you.” I feel a bit sheepish as the words leave my mouth, but I’ve come this far and there isn’t any going back.
The hesitation in his response gives me time to take in the cowboy in his full glory. The man leaning casually against the split rail fence with one leg tucked behind him doesn’t exactly look threatening. He’s toned, tanned, and has just enough facial hair to make my mouth water.
After a long pause, he throws back his head and lets out a deep belly laugh. “From me? Do yourself a favor and put that chapstick back in your purse.”
I look at the object in my hand. Damn. It is chapstick. The tubes are practically the same size. I toss it into my bag.
“Mom, the horse's name is Dolly!” Paisley squeals and clasps her hands together.
“Right.” My defenses drop. Life in the city has me expecting the worst in everyone, but that might not be necessary out here. After all, what kind of bad guy names his horse Dolly?
Collecting myself, I smooth my hair and pull my shoulders back. The more I look at him, the more it’s clear that this dude is less Antony Bridgerton and more like a sexy Marlboro Man, minus the smoking (Look it up Gen Z, he’s worth the Google search.)
The cowboy looks back at me too, his eyes are dark and bubbling with intensity. The way they roam up and down my body makes me flush with heat and sends goosebumps rippling across my arms. I open my mouth to speak, but there isn’t any air left between us.
“I just promised Paisley here that she could feed old Dolly.” The cowboy stands up straight and even though I’m five foot nine, he towers over me. “What are y’all doing way out here anyway? Let me guess, you’re stuck in the mud. No, you took a wrong turn and ran out of gas. I’m right, aren’t I?”
“No, our trip here was intentional. This is actually my place.” It doesn’t sound right, even to my own ears.
He throws back his head and lets out a throaty laugh. “Is that right? So you are Travis of Travis’ Tavern then.”
I tilt my chin up to meet his gaze. “Clearly, I’m not. But this is my place.” I pull out my phone and open the screenshot of the deed, holding it up for him to see. “I own this land. So maybe I should ask you what you are doing all the way out here.”
His face falls flat. In an instant, all the warm, flirty, charm that threatened to drown me just a few minutes ago evaporates completely. “I’m Travis. Who are you?”
“I’m Charlie Marshall.”
He freezes for a moment, his eyes locked on mine. Then, without warning, he steps away from me. The tension in his face pulls into tight lines that twist and- instinctively I pull Paisley and me away, putting space between us. The name Travis Luis has been nothing but a footnote on a legal document up until right now. Putting a face to the name brings it into a whole new light.
“Mom, I want to see the horse.” Paisley’s voice chirps behind me. “Mr. Travis, can I feed Dolly again?”
I turn to her. “No, Paisley, we are?—”
Travis gets to his feet. “I promised her she could feed the horse. She’s gonna feed that horse. She’s a welcome guest here and there isn’t a rush for her to leave. It’s you I’m not so sure about.” Travis disappears into the barn and comes back with a bucket of apple slices and carrots. He hands it to Paisley.
“Okay then. I’m fine with that,” I say the words, but neither of them seems to care what I think right now.
Travis turns his attention back to me. “We’re celebrating Founders Day here. It’s the hundredth anniversary. The whole town is gathering here and you want to come here and take away everything I love right before the biggest day in our town’s history?” His voice is calm and I can’t ignore the hint of sadness that edges in.
“Of course not.” The words come out automatically and before I can process them. “I won’t do anything with the property until after Founders Day,” I say the sentence like I know what Founders Day is, which is not accurate. But the conviction in Travis’ tone tells me it is important to him and for some reason, I worry about what he will think.
“My brother thinks I should hire an attorney and fight you for this place. But I already know that I don’t own it. When I started developing this land, no one wanted it. There was work to be done so I just…did it. Truth is I don’t think I can stop you from taking it away.” He folds his massive arms across his chest and shakes his head. “You aren’t from here, but if you were, you’d understand why I can’t let you come in and change everything about this place. I’ll settle for two months and you getting out of my hair.” The bite in his words is only drowned out by the sadness.
“Okay, I’ll give you your two months.” The lawyer in me stiffens. I continue, “But the getting out of your hair part of things, I can’t do. This isn’t your property Travis and I’d be a fool not to stick around long enough to learn the ropes.”
“You think I’m going to help you take my livelihood from me?” His jaw falls open.
Heat burns in my stomach. Why the hell am I entertaining this man’s requests at all? “I’m not the monster you’re making me out to be. I’ve given you months to prepare for this and now I’m offering you even more time. If I was representing myself in court right now, I’d advise me to change the locks today. So I will… see you tomorrow.”
Travis shakes his head as he walks away from me without uttering another word. I don’t know what I’m doing, but I’m in too deep to back out now. I pick up my phone and punch in a text message to my assistant.
Me: I’m going to be out of the office for the week, forward my calls.
When my phone vibrates before I can put it in my pocket, I pull it out to check the message. But my heart sinks when I find it isn’t my assistant, it’s Paul.
Paul: Can’t take Paisley this weekend. I’m heading out for a camping trip.
Paul’s text messages make me sick to my stomach. I go out of my way to avoid drama with this man because he knows how to bring it even with the most mundane tasks.
Me: You can’t treat our daughter like a convenience. You missed the last two visits too. She’s already packed.
Paul: It’s buck season. If I take her, she comes hunting.
Paul wanted a housewife. I wanted a partner. We were both disappointed in the end. But even in all the love lost between us, I always thought he’d continue to be a good dad to Paisley.
Me: She’s nine. You’re not taking her hunting.
Paul: Like I said, can’t take her then. Next week for sure.
A quick search lands me a stay in a quaint guest cottage over at Findlay Farms. It looks like Paisley and I are in for a few weeks at the farm with Travis.