Marin Thomas - Roughneck Cowboy

“Generous? Dominick’s a crook,” Sara protested.

“If you don’t negotiate with him, the bank will take the ranch, then turn around and sell it to Dominick anyway. And we’ll walk away with nothing.”

Gabe made a valid point, but Sara wasn’t ready to raise the white flag.

“I’m taking off in the morning.” Her brother shoved his chair back and stood.

Sara poked Cole’s shoulder. “Say something.”

“What do you want me to say? ‘Stay, Gabe? Stay and work your ass off for nothing?’”

Tears clogged Sara’s throat. “But Dad—”

“Dad’s dead, and we can’t hold off the creditors forever. If we lose the ranch, which is the road we’re headed down now, you’ll have your house in town and Gabe and I will have nothing but our trucks and the clothes on our backs.”

“I promised Dad that Dominick would never get his hands on this ranch.”

“You made that promise, Sara.” Gabe pointed to Cole, then himself. “We didn’t.”

Cole got up from the table. “Thanks for making dinner.”

“Yeah, sure,” she whispered. Some Thanksgiving this turned out to be.

CHAOS.

Thanksgiving in the Cartwright household was unlike anything Travis or his daughter had ever experienced. Bodies everywhere. Kids shouting and racing from room to room. Good-natured arguing. And laughter. Plenty of laughter.

Travis stood in the family room, pretending interest in the football game on TV while covertly observing his siblings and their families. The past two days, he’d felt as if he’d been riding an emotional roller-coaster with no off switch. His mother’s death hadn’t sunk in, yet he found himself surrounded by family he hadn’t known existed until a few weeks ago.

“Having second thoughts?” Duke stopped at his side.

“About what?” Travis studied his stepbrother’s outfit—Western dress shirt with pearl snaps, bolo tie, Texas-size belt buckle and snakeskin boots. Obviously the Detroit executive loved dressing the part of a cowboy.

“Second thoughts about being a Cartwright.” Duke glanced across the room, his expression softening when he saw his wife. “Dominick can be overwhelming.”

“And evasive,” Travis said. “I’ve asked to speak to him in private, but he’s avoiding me.”

“Maybe he doesn’t trust you.”

Travis understood his siblings’ doubts about him, but shouldn’t his father feel differently? “Trust me how?”

Duke narrowed his eyes. “Maybe Dominick assumes all you care about is getting your hands on his oil money.”

“I don’t give a crap about his wealth.”

“If that’s true, I don’t know whether to admire you or pity you.”

“I get that you’re protective of Matt and Samantha, but—”

“Matt and Sam had a rough childhood growing up without a mother. Even though they’re adults, they’ve yearned for a mother’s love their entire lives, which makes them vulnerable to you.”

What about him? He’d yearned for a father’s love all his life.

“You’re their only connection to Charlotte.” Duke stepped in front of Travis, blocking his view of the family. “Don’t even think about taking advantage of Matt, Sam or Dominick. You mess with my family and you mess with me. Got it?”

Yeah, Travis got it, all right. No matter that he was Dominick’s biological son, he was still an outsider. “Message received.”

Duke’s posture relaxed when he changed the subject. “Renée said Charlie’s mom isn’t in the picture anymore.”

Evidently Charlie had spilled the beans about their life in Houston. Travis didn’t care. He had no secrets. “Julie left after Charlie was born.” Travis didn’t go into details. No matter how he told the story of Julie abandoning him and a baby, he always came out looking like an idiot.

“Renée’s seen everything in her job as a social worker. She says Charlie’s a well-adjusted little girl for having grown up without a mother.”

“Her grandmother gets credit for that.” Travis worried about the impact his mother’s death would have on Charlie in the long run. He wasn’t opposed to marriage, but his job on the rig made relationships stressful. Travis would hate to marry and then have Charlie become attached to the woman only to be abandoned again when the stress of his work schedule caused another woman to pack her bags and leave.

“You like rig work?” Duke asked.

Travis studied his stepbrother, unsure if he was making polite conversation or was genuinely interested in Travis’s answer.

“Don’t get me wrong—I love my job.” Duke shrugged. “But every day is the same. Meetings. Phone calls. Emails.”

Oil rig work was exhausting, but Travis preferred physical labor over a desk job. “The crew on the rig is like a second family. We celebrate and argue like brothers, uncles.” Fathers. “At the end of a two-week rotation, I’m more than ready to return to the mainland.”

“Mind if I join the conversation?” Matt motioned to Travis’s almost empty beer bottle. “Need another one?”

“No, I’m good.”

“Did you thank him?” Matt asked Duke.

“Not yet. We were discussing other matters.” Duke sent a warning smile Travis’s way.

“We’d like to thank you,” Matt said.

“For what?”

“For choosing a career in oil.”

Roughnecking wasn’t a career so much as a job.

“Dad’s been holding out hope that Duke or I would change our minds and work for Cartwright Oil.” Matt chuckled. “I’d rather shovel horse manure than dig oil wells and Mr. Corporate here would rather brainstorm information systems than analyze oil productivity spreadsheets.”

Travis directed his words to Matt. “Our mother was the one who pushed me to sign up with a rig.”

“Your days of roughnecking will soon be over.” Matt and Duke exchanged a silent message. “When you turn thirty-two, you’ll have access to your trust fund.”

Trust fund? “I didn’t come here for a handout.”

“No matter,” Matt said. “You’ll get your share of Cartwright money just like the rest of us.”

No one could force him to accept his inheritance, but if what his brothers claimed was true, then Travis had to consider Charlie. He wanted to make sure she was provided for if something happened to him. Still…he hated that his siblings assumed he intended to sponge off their father.

“What are you guys discussing?” Samantha joined the group. “Why the serious faces?”

Ignoring their sister’s question, Matt nodded toward the front door. “Where’s Wade taking the kids?”

“To the bunkhouse to teach them how to rope the fake steer Dad bought a few weeks ago.”

“C’mon.” Duke nudged Matt in the side. “Wade couldn’t throw a rope if his life depended on it.”

“Be nice,” Samantha scolded.

“Don’t worry, sis. We won’t hurt your hubby’s feelings.” Chuckling, Matt followed Duke outside.

Relieved to be rid of his brothers and their suspicions, Travis turned his attention to his sister. Her eyes were the same shape and brown color of his. He and Samantha looked more like brother and sister than she and Matt.

“I read Charlotte’s diary last night.” Her sad smile reminded Travis that he hadn’t been the only one hurt by his mother’s actions.

“Did it help you remember her?” he asked.

“Not really. I was two when she left. Matt was four. He claims he doesn’t have any memories of Charlotte, but I think he has a few.”

Travis had grown up with a mother’s love. Samantha and Matt had grown up with a father’s love. On that score they were even. But Dominick was still alive and that gave Travis the advantage of forging a relationship with his estranged father—if he cared to. His siblings would never have that opportunity with their mother.