More than a Mistress(17)

It had everything to do with her, and why wouldn't it? No man wanted to  be dismissed, the way he had. His mood was foul and spending a weekend  with Jonas was not going to improve it.

Travis turned on his heel and looked at the Comanche. Nobody knew he'd  arrived. All he had to do was climb into the plane, head west to the  coast...

A hand clamped down on his shoulder.

"Do it," a familiar voice growled, "and I swear, I'll hunt you down and take that empty head of yours for a trophy."

Travis turned around and looked into the smiling face of his brother, Slade.

"You into mind-reading now, kid?"

"Not unless you expect me to believe you have a mind to read, big brother."

Travis glowered. Slade went right on smiling.

"Oh, hell," Travis said, after a few seconds, and he grinned and threw  his arms around his brother. "Can't get away with a thing when you're  around." He stepped back and looked Slade over. "Still ugly as ever, I  see."

Slade eyed him back, taking in the dark gray trousers, white-on-white  shirt complete with maroon silk tie dangling from the open neck and  grinned.

"Yup. It must run in the family."

Travis laughed, reached into the plane and began unloading his things.  "Gage hasn't changed his mind again, has he? He's still coming, right?"

"Yeah, he'll be here. Jeez, man, what'd you do? Bring along your whole office?"

"Some of us know what it means to put in a day's work, kid," Travis said  as he handed over his jacket, briefcase and computer. "I came to this  oven straight from a meeting."

"Now he's gonna name-drop," Slade said, rolling his eyes skyward. "Go  on, drop those Hollywood names all over the place. See if it means  anything to me that you're up to your kneecaps in blond bimbettes just  achin' to demonstrate their talents in your bed."

"I am not up to anything in blondes," Travis said sharply.

Slade's eyebrows rose. "Okay. Whatever you say."

"And why'd you make that crack, anyway?"

"Hey, man, it was just a-"

"Not all blondes are bimbettes. And not every woman who comes onto a man  is-is..." His voice faded away. "Holy hell," he muttered.

"Uh, Trav? Did I put my foot into a cow pie just now, or something?"

"Or something," Travis said, after a second. He laughed, or tried to.  "It's the heat. This darned Texas heat. I'm just not used to it  anymore."

"Uh-huh."

"It's like an oven."

"You already said that."

"Well, I'm saying it again. Dammit, Slade-"

"Dammit, Travis; why are you so busy tryin' to change the subject?"

"What subject?"

"The subject of why you almost took my head off just now?"

The brothers had reached the Jeep Slade had left parked on the grass.  They paused on opposite sides of the vehicle and looked at each other  across its roof.

It would be so easy to tell him, Travis thought. To just say, "You  remember that auction? And the blonde I told you about? Well, I spent  the day in bed with her. And yeah„ I'm too old to think babes like that  are worth a man's time but the thing is, see, I keep thinking about her,  and remembering little things that don't add up. Like the way she  turned cold and threw me out, though she'd cried, that last time she  came in my arms..."

"Trav?"

Travis blinked. Slade was staring at him with a worried look on his  face. What was he going to do? Make the look permanent by telling him  stuff not even he, himself, could understand? No way, he thought, and  forced a smile to his lips.

"You know what I need, kid?"

"No. And, apparently, neither do you."

Travis grinned and tossed his things into the Jeep. "I need a shower. A  change of clothes. A bottle of beer and a maybe a swim down at the old  creek."                       
       
           



       

Slade grinned back at him. "I thought you Hollywood types were into vintage vino?"

"You know what they say, my man. When in Rome..."

"...drink Texas Red. Make that two bottles, icy-cold, and you're on."

Travis smiled and offered his hand. Slade clasped it in the intricate, secret Los Lobos handshake of their childhood.

"We're lean," Travis said.

Slade smiled. "We're mean."

"We're part of the team," they said in unison.

Laughing, they climbed into the Jeep and sped toward the house.



The shower and the change of clothes helped. So did the first beer.

An hour after that, seated on the deck and watching a pair of tiny  hummingbirds fight a duel over bragging rights to a patch of  honeysuckle, Travis had just about decided this weekend in the country  might do him some good, after all.

Slade had gone back into the house to collect another couple of cold  beers. All was almost right with the world. Now, if only Catie would  show up...

"Travis!"

He looked up, grinned and got to his feet in time to catch his stepsister in his arms and whirl her around.

"Hey, darlin'," he said, kissing her soundly on each cheek, "I was  starting to wonder if you'd decided to ditch this whole party thing."

Caitlin wrinkled her nose. "Fat chance, considering that it was my idea."

"With a little prompting from Jonas, huh?"

She smiled. "Well, maybe just a little. When did you get in?"

"An hour ago." He pulled a long face. "I was pretty disappointed that you weren't part of the welcoming committee."

"I wanted to be, but-"

"Catie, I'm only teasing you." Travis grinned. "Slade was there. What more could a man possibly want?"

Caitlin laughed as she plopped into a rocker and stretched out her  denim-clad legs, "True, but I really was going to be down-at the landing  strip. Then Jonas decided somebody ought to drive into town and check  up on the caterer, so-"

"So he told you to take care of it."

"Now, Trav, don't be like that. That's just the way he is, and you know it."

Travis sat down in a high-backed wicker chair. "Yeah. Some things never change."

"Have you seen him yet?"

"No. Marta says he's out riding." He smiled. "She looks terrific."

"She is terrific." Caitlin kicked back her rocker. "Amazing, isn't it? No matter what he does, Jonas can't scare her off."

A companionable silence fell over the porch, broken only ^y the squeak  of the rocking chair and the hum of the bees ;n the flowers. After a  while, Travis cleared his throat.

"So, what's the deal, Catie? Are we here to wish Jonas another  eighty-five years as emperor, or to listen to him tell Slade and Gage  and me that we should be fighting over a hich of us gets to inherit this  place not one of us would know what to do with. You'd think he'd get it  into his thick head that you're the only one who wants Espada."

"But I'm not one of you," Caitlin said softly. "You're Barons. I'm a McCord."

"Bull-spit."

"Not according to your father." Caitlin reached for Travis's beer,  lifted it to her lips and took a long drink. "I do think that's on the  agenda, though," she said, rolling the icy bottle across her forehead.  "Jonas's attorney is coming down."

"His attorney, huh?"

"Uh-huh. Grant Landon, from New York."

"Landon." Travis cocked an eyebrow. "Don't think I've heard of him but I don't suppose I would have, out in L.A."

Caitlin smiled. "Speaking of L.A., what's new in your life?"

The door slammed as Slade stepped onto the deck, two long-necked beer bottles dangling from each hand.

"Hell, Catie, don't encourage him." He put the bottles on the floor and  settled his long frame into one of the wicker chairs. "You show the  least bit of interest, old Travis is gonna deluge us with fancy stories  about the Hollywood high life."

"Deluge me, Trav," Caitlin said. "Sometimes, I forget there's more to the world than calving and roping."

"With pleasure." Travis reached for her hand, curled it into his and  brought it to his lips. "Did you know that there's not a Hollywood  actress as beautiful as you?"

"Liar," Catie said, and smiled.

"And there sure as heck isn't a big-time Hollywood heartthrob anywhere near as good-lookin' as any your big brother Travis."

Catie chortled with laughter. The sound sent a pleasant warmth rolling through Travis's blood.

Jonas or no Jonas, he thought, it was good to be home.



He met Jonas's attorney during an impromptu meeting in the hayloft, which had always been the secret Los Lobos clubhouse.                       
       
           



       

And what a hell of a meeting it had been, Travis thought grimly, as he dressed for his father's birthday party.