Roughneck Cowboy Read Free

Sara awarded her an A for creativity—the walrus face was priceless.
    The man stopped playing with his cell phone and scowled. “That’s not funny, Charlie.”
    Charlie. Unusual name for a girl.
    â€œTake the straws out of your nose.” His deep voice boomed. “Now.”
    The troublemaker pointed at Sara. “She thinks I’m funny.”
    Oh, you little stinker . Sara resisted the urge to duck her head. She offered a friendly smile, but the man’s scowl remained in place.
    â€œI don’t care if the world thinks you’re hilarious. Finish your cereal.”
    â€œI want to go home.” The pint-size rascal crossed her arms over her chest and pouted.
    â€œToo late to turn back now. We’re in this for keeps.”
    His words coaxed a quiet sigh from Sara. What she wouldn’t give to find a handsome man who wanted to be in it for keeps with her.
    Â 
    T HE GRAVEL ROAD LEADING to the Lazy River Ranch felt like a dark, endless tunnel. Travis battled another round of second thoughts as they bumped along the path. Should he have phoned and given the old man a heads-up about his and Charlie’s visit? Or should he have waited until after the holidays to drop in? Heshoved his worries aside. Dominick Cartwright didn’t deserve any courtesies from him.
    What if your father didn’t know you existed all these years?
    Travis had considered the possibility, but it was easier to assume Dominick had wanted nothing to do with him than to believe his mother—the woman who’d raised him single-handedly all these years—had denied him a relationship with his father.
    â€œWhen are we gonna be there?”
    No sooner had Charlie spoken than the ranch house came into view. Halogen lights lit the circular drive crowded with cars. Damn, he’d crashed a party. He parked by the empty coral.
    From a distance, the barn appeared old but in pristine condition. He’d have expected an oil baron to possess a state-of-the-art aluminum-sided structure with central air and all the high-tech stuff. Maybe the small cattle herd they’d driven past was just for show. He switched his attention to the house. Light poured through the windows of the white two-story home with a wraparound porch.
    â€œWell, I’ll be,” he mumbled when a hound dog limped from around the corner of the house.
    Charlie unsnapped her seat belt and pressed her nose to the windshield. “What’s wrong with him?”
    â€œProbably just old.”
    â€œHe looks sad.”
    The dog barked once, swished its tail, then disappeared inside the barn. “I guess that means we’re welcome.”
    â€œAren’t we going in?” Charlie asked.
    How did a father explain to his little girl that he was scared spitless?
    You’re doing this for Charlie.
    If he could fool himself into believing that, then he wouldn’t have to acknowledge his own need to know if he’d ever mattered to the man who’d sired him. The decision to stay or leave was taken out of his hands when the front door opened and two men stepped outside. They stood beneath the porch light and stared in Travis’s direction. A moment later, they shuffled down the steps and headed across the driveway.
    â€œStay put, Charlie.” Travis cut the engine and got out of the truck. One man walked with a cowboy swagger, the other possessed the steady gait of a confident businessman.
    As they drew near, the swaggering cowboy spoke. “Need directions?”
    Hardly . “I’m here to see Dominick Cartwright.”
    Both men stopped a few yards away. Travis didn’t blame them for being cautious. He suspected all kinds of kooks claimed they had business with Dominick Cartwright in hopes of getting their hands on his millions. “Got a name?” the businessman asked.
    â€œTravis Cartwright from Houston, Texas.”
    Right then the front door opened again and an elderly gentleman stepped