Kitabı oku: «The Reluctant Texas Rancher», sayfa 3

Chapter Four

Her mouth went dry. The practical side of Liz said Don’t kiss him. The romantic side of her insisted there was no harm in finding out if Travis Anderson still had the power to take her breath away as he had back in high school.

So instead of rebuffing him, she stepped into the fray. Allowed him to keep right on coming and lower his mouth to hers.

The first touch of their lips was astonishing. Electric. And oh so sweet. The first hint of subtle pressure was even more intoxicating.

Before Liz knew it, she had surrendered to the moment and moved all the way into his embrace. Her breasts brushed the hardness of his chest and her arms slipped around him.

Travis moved forward, too, sliding his palms down her hips and holding her against his body. Her softness melded to his strength and the kiss took on a quiet intensity that turned her whole world upside down.

Liz moaned, tilting her head to give him better access, relishing the sure sweep of his tongue tangling with hers.

She knew she had wanted him years ago, even if they were too young, too reserved, too focused on everything else to fully explore that yearning.

Turns out, the schoolgirl passion she’d experienced back then was nothing compared to what she felt now that they were all grown up.

Holding him like this, letting him hold her, was magic. And she knew if they kept it up—if they let this recklessly wild kiss continue—there would be nothing but regrets for both of them.

Shuddering, she clasped his shoulders and pushed him away. “We can’t do this.”

“Actually,” Travis teased, kissing her temple, her cheek, the lobe of her ear, “I think we were excelling in this venue….”

With her body still tingling everywhere they had touched—and everywhere they hadn’t—Liz took another step back and tried to regain her composure. “You’re my client.” She emphasized every syllable of every word.

He grinned sexily, not at all repentant. “Lucky for me. It’s the one good thing, besides a temporary job, I’ve got going for me at the moment.”

That was Travis all right, Liz thought in exasperation. Charging headlong into whatever awaited. Letting nothing stand between him and his goal.

Her heart racing, she tried again to talk sense into him. “We were kissing.” She held up a hand before he could interrupt. “And you and I both know that crossing the line this way will lead to nothing but trouble.”

His expression solemn, he gazed at her. “I agree,” he told her in a husky voice. “If we let this impact the way we conduct ourselves in terms of the business at hand, it will bring us bucketfuls of heartache. But that’s not going to happen over a kiss, Liz.” He leaned closer, his breath fanning her neck. “And you know why? Because we’re both lawyers. And we’re smart enough to be able to separate our private lives from our professional alliances.”

She had certainly thought that was the case up till now.

She’d never even been tempted before. But Travis had thrown her emotions into chaos, by kissing her for just a few minutes.

Deliberately, she put her lawyer hat back on. “Which makes our actions all the more foolish,” she retorted. “You have to know that.”

His gray eyes darkened. He looked a little bemused, and a lot cocky. “Actually,” he drawled, letting his gaze drift slowly over her face, “if you want to get technical—and it sounds like you do—there’s nothing in the Texas Bar Ethics Code or Texas law preventing me from having a relationship with you outside of your work on the lawsuit. Besides—” he shrugged, still not ready to give up on pursuing her “—with you at the helm, this case will be over before you know it.”

Liz appreciated Travis’s faith in her even as she worried that her success meant he would soon be leaving Laramie County.

Wishing her lips weren’t still tingling, she looked him straight in the eye. “That doesn’t mean it’s wise for us to revisit past mistakes. We’ve been down this road before.”

“As kids.”

Past hurt rushed to the fore. That didn’t mean they hadn’t crashed and burned. Or that she hadn’t felt incredibly dejected and cried into her pillow for weeks afterward.

Her lower lip trembled. “You broke up with me, Travis.”

He stood there, patient and ready, raring to turn back the clock. “Because there was too much of an age difference.” Exasperation colored his low tone. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “And we weren’t right for each other then.”

“We’re still not.” She stepped back, not about to put her heart on the line, only to have it smashed to pieces. Again. “So let me be clear.” She slayed him with her best don’t-mess-with-me look. “I’m very happy to represent you. I’m glad you will be temporarily assisting my family and working on the Four Winds. But that, Counselor, is as far as it goes.”

“AT LEAST LET ME SEND YOU off with a cup of coffee and a couple of breakfast tacos,” Faye Elizabeth insisted at six the next morning.

Studiously ignoring the big male interloper sitting at the breakfast table, Liz simultaneously pulled on her suit jacket and checked her BlackBerry for messages.

She’d been up half the night, revisiting his kiss and her response to it, as well as everything that had happened years ago.

Travis, on the other hand, looked like he had slept great.

It figured.

She forced a smile and an attitude of nonchalance. “That would be wonderful.” Liz gave her grandmother a hug. “Thank you.”

Reba frowned, looking from Travis to her daughter and back again.

“What’s going on with the two of you?” she asked.

He kissed me and I responded, Liz thought. My goodness, how I responded …

It was a wonder she hadn’t melted into a puddle right there in the parking lot.

But not about to tell her family that, she shrugged, accepting with a murmur of thanks the breakfast her grandmother had packed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Liz fibbed.

“Something happened,” Tillie concurred, a matchmaker’s gleam in her eyes.

“And why were the two of you in town together last night, anyway?” Reba pressed.

“How did you hear that?” Travis asked.

Liz had heard him say he had gone off to get his belongings. Which he had eventually done, after collecting his vehicle.

“One of my friends saw the two of you coming out of your office, late in the evening,” Reba declared.

Small towns. Nary a secret anywhere. At least that’s how it seemed….

“I want Travis to sign a temporary employment contract with the Four Winds,” Liz said, in all honesty.

He looked at her, in lawyer mode, as able to roll with the punches as she hoped. “I think it’s a good idea, too.”

Faye Elizabeth regarded them suspiciously. “You couldn’t have done that here?”

Clearly, she hoped to keep them apart, or well chaperoned as much as possible to prevent any further romance from developing.

“It’s easier doing business in my office,” Liz said.

Especially with all three other Cartwright women looking over their shoulders, speculating on what was and wasn’t happening between her and Travis.

“Unfortunately,” Travis interjected with a beleaguered smile, “Liz had an emergency with another client that called her away, and we didn’t finish. So we’ll have to go back to it at some point soon.”

They would, Liz realized reluctantly. Which would mean even more time spent alone with him.

Only this time there would be no kissing. She would make certain of it.

“That won’t keep you from checking the new calves in the pastures this morning, will it, Travis?” Reba asked in alarm.

“Not at all.” He finished his coffee and stood. “I’ll get right on it. Thanks for the fine breakfast. Ladies …” He grabbed his hat and strolled out.

“My oh my,” Tillie sighed, her hand fluttering above her heart.

“I quite agree,” Reba said, sizing up his departing image the same way she sized up the procreating powers of a bull for hire. “Having a man like that for your baby’s daddy …”

“Mom!” Liz said, flushing hotly.

“I’m just saying….” Reba eyed her matter-of-factly, in that instant every bit as goal-oriented as Travis. “You’re not getting any younger and we need a new generation of Cartwrights. Travis is here. He’s hot. He’s available.”

“Why not just go ahead and say it—he’s a stud!” Liz interrupted sarcastically.

“And he’s from prime breeding stock,” Reba continued, without skipping a beat. She lifted a palm. “The two of you wouldn’t even have to marry—”

“Of course they would marry,” Tillie exclaimed, her romantic sensibilities offended by the notion of them having a baby and not living happily ever after.

“A romance with a man who’s not going to stick around for the long haul is the last thing Liz needs,” Faye Elizabeth grumbled.

Tired of having her life decided for her, by everyone but her, Liz sighed and grabbed her briefcase and her breakfast. “I’m out of here,” she told one and all grouchily.

To her consternation, by the time she reached the parking area, Travis’s pickup truck was disappearing down a dirt road that traversed the ranch.

Figuring she could talk to him later, she headed for the Laramie County sheriff’s station.

“You have to stop picking fights with people,” Liz told J.T. when they met up in the courtroom.

Disheveled and exhausted from a night spent in the holding cell, he remained defiant. “People,” he returned cantankerously, “need to stop waging battles with me.”

“This isn’t what your late wife would want for you.”

He ignored her reference to his beloved Cyndi. “I want that pool.” He peered at Liz. “And I know you can figure out a way for it to happen.”

Talk about the impossible.

She sighed.

“Meantime, if I get community service for this, make sure it’s something outside,” J.T. continued. “I hate being cooped up.”

Liz tried another approach. “You don’t have to plead guilty to the misdemeanor charges. I can get them dropped if you’ll only agree to get some grief counseling.”

J.T. scowled. “You know how I feel about that.”

“Nothing is going to make your grief go away, I know,” Liz repeated his oft-muttered sentiment.

“Exactly.”

Figuring that, under the circumstances, community service couldn’t hurt, since it would get him out of the house, Liz did as he asked.

The guilty plea was entered; he was lectured by the exasperated judge and assigned twenty hours of community service cleaning up local streets.

An hour later, she was headed back to the office.

It was noon by the time she arrived at the ranch.

Pale gray clouds were obscuring the horizon. Reba, Tillie and Faye Elizabeth were in the midst of gathering up their purses—and raincoats, just in case.

“What’s going on?” Liz asked. Given the fact it was a Saturday, they could be headed anywhere.

Tillie stuffed her notepad and pen in her handbag. Reba grabbed the keys to her own SUV. “We’re making our monthly shopping trip to the warehouse club in San Angelo.”

Liz wished she’d had more notice. Not having any destroyed her ability to adequately adjust her own workload. Nevertheless, she had a responsibility here. “Give me a couple of minutes and I’ll go with you.”

“That would be great!” her grandmother said. “We’ll wait while you change clothes.”

Reba gave her mother a chiding look, then turned back to Liz. “Actually, honey, we need you here, helping Travis move the cattle from pasture 53 to 62.”

With ten thousand acres of ranch land and only some of it currently fit for grazing, moving cattle around could be quite a task.

To her consternation, Tillie quickly reinforced that sentiment. “I don’t care how good Travis is on horseback, he can’t do it alone, dear. Well, not efficiently, anyway. Not with all the newborn calves and their mamas.”

“I’d do it myself if my hip were up to getting in the saddle,” Reba said.

Liz knew that to be true. There was nothing her mother liked more than cowgirl activities.

Liz ignored Faye Elizabeth’s lingering disapproval. There was no use aggravating her mother’s sciatica when it was just starting to mend. “Of course I’ll help with the cattle,” Liz said. She turned to Faye Elizabeth. “You don’t need to worry. I can handle Travis.”

Her grandmother harrumphed. “See that you do.”

Through discussing her love life—or lack thereof—Liz continued, practically, “When will you-all be back?”

“Around dinnertime, if all goes as planned …”

The ladies took off, and Liz went up to change clothes. Grimly, she downed an energy bar, saddled up and headed out.

Travis was where they’d said he would be, in pasture 53. He was hardly alone.

Reins in hand, she cantered over to join him. “Who are your buddies?”

They hadn’t had ranch dogs for some time.

These two were beauties.

Mutts, to be sure, but gorgeous ones. Both fast and agile as could be.

“Meet Mud.” Travis pointed to the smaller one. He had a thick brown-white-and-black coat and looked to be part border collie, part beagle. “And Jet.” He indicated a glossy black Labrador retriever–German shepherd mix.

“Hey, fellas.” Liz smiled from her place in the saddle.

“I borrowed them from my parents’ ranch,” Travis said. “They’ve got about two dozen cattle dogs out there, so we can keep them as long as we want them. What brings you out here?”

“I was told you needed help moving cattle.”

His expression didn’t change in the slightest. Yet there was something in his gray eyes. Some small glimmer of bemusement …

Liz stifled a moan. “They knew you had the dogs helping you, didn’t they?”

Which made her assistance unnecessary, as there were only seventy-five mama cows, with fifty baby calves to date. A lot for Liz’s mom to handle on her own, but nothing for a cowhand as fit and experienced as Travis. Especially when he was accompanied by two well-trained herding dogs.

He shrugged lazily in response to her question. “Introductions were made. Plans announced.”

Liz bit down on an oath. “Tillie and my mom are matchmaking.”

“But not Faye Elizabeth.”

Liz shrugged. “Of all of us, she’s the one who worries the most. So, you take that, plus her past—growing up without a dad, losing her husband so quickly after they married then watching my mom lose hers—I just don’t think she can bear to see any of us experience that kind of heartbreak again.”

“Whereas Tillie …” Travis prodded.

“Is still deeply romantic.”

“And your mom?”

“Practical to a fault.” To the point Reba was angling to make Travis Liz’s baby daddy. But Travis didn’t need to know that.

His eyes gleamed. “I figured it was something like that.” Again, he wasn’t the least upset.

Liz swallowed. It didn’t matter how sexy he looked in the saddle with a cowboy hat pulled low over his brow. She was his lawyer; he was a ranch employee. Their agreement specified nothing about social activities between them. And for good reason. Their lives were already complicated enough.

Liz grabbed the reins and wheeled her horse around. “As long as I’m here, let’s get to it.”

The next hour was spent cutting the mama cows and their calves from the herd. While Jet and Mud ran back and forth, barking and chasing the cattle toward the gates, Travis and Liz sorted those with calves into pasture 62, the still-gestating cows into pasture 54.

Once finished, they met up again, the dogs trotting happily alongside.

Travis settled his hat more squarely on his head. “I know the ranch isn’t your deal, that you’re not actually running the show, but … got time to look at a few things?”

Hating the ominous undertone in his voice, Liz nodded. Duty called once again. “Sure.”

Travis took the lead. On the southernmost part of the ranch, a dozen pastures were in bad shape. Grass was sparse, weeds prevalent.

“My guess is these were grazed too short in dry conditions last summer,” he said, “limiting the carbohydrate reserves that fuel spring growth.”

Guiltily, Liz recalled Tillie harping on the way the cattle had been moved—or not—the previous summer. Her mother had insisted that Liz be around to saddle up and help out more, but she hadn’t been able to, due to the demands of her law practice.

Reba had eventually given up nagging and done what she could, with occasional hired help.

“At this point in the spring, the grass should be green and thick,” Liz mused.

Travis nodded. “Ideally, now that it’s not necessary to give the herd supplemental feed and nutrients, as we do in winter, we should put them in fields where the growth is six inches tall. Let them graze it down three inches or so, and move them again. Quick rotation of the herd in spring will help a pasture recover, while preventing grasses from flowering and losing forage quality.”

Liz clasped the horn on her saddle while her horse danced restlessly. “Great-grandma Tillie is always saying that spring grazing is all about management.”

“She’s right.” Travis turned his horse in the direction of the ranch house. With a nod of his head, he indicated Liz should follow. “Fortunately, it can be fixed with fertilizer, rain and regular mowing.”

All of which Travis could do.

He cantered on ahead, letting his horse—and the dogs—stretch their legs to their hearts’ content.

“I was serious about getting you to sign a temporary work agreement,” Liz said, after they’d taken care of their mounts and put their tack away.

Travis stood in the shadow of the barn, a resting dog on either side of him. “I’ve been working on something I want to show you, too,” he said.

Liz glanced at her watch. It was nearly five. Where had the time gone? And why did she suddenly feel so happy and content?

She waited for Travis to elaborate, but he didn’t.

Given how seriously he was taking his position as ranch hand, it was probably something about the Four Winds. Questions about why they had such a small herd these days, or some such thing.

“We probably don’t have a lot of time before the others get back,” Liz warned. Just this once, she’d like to get whatever news there was about the running of the ranch first. “What do you say we both shower and meet up at the ranch house around six? We can talk while we eat.”

Travis nodded, his face suddenly inscrutable.

A tingle slid down her spine at his sudden shift in mood.

“See you in a little while,” he said.

Liz watched his retreating back, wondering what he was up to.

Chapter Five

“Do you want the good news first?” Liz asked the moment Travis walked in the back door to the kitchen, file folder in hand.

Damn but she was pretty fresh out of the shower, in a pair of dark, boot-cut jeans and a ruffled, ivory, button-up shirt. She smelled good, too, like jasmine and shampoo.

He strolled closer, taking in the fall of auburn hair bouncing against her slender shoulders, the gentle rise and fall of her breasts. Refusing to let his gaze go any lower, he set the folder he carried on the kitchen table and followed her into the mudroom to the upright freezer.

“Or the bad news?” Liz finished with a wry smile.

His eyes stayed on her lush, kissable lips. No contest. “The good.”

Liz opened the freezer and perused the contents thoughtfully, finally reaching for a butcher-paper-wrapped package with “rib eye” scrawled across it.

She shut the door with her hip and brushed by him, the heels of her fancy burgundy cowgirl boots tapping purposefully across the oak floor. “The rest of my family won’t be back until around nine-thirty.”

“So we’ve got plenty of time to go over the employment contract I drew up,” she continued, looking more relaxed than he’d seen her.

Wondering how he could help, Travis watched her put the steak into the microwave to defrost. “What’s the bad news?”

She made a mournful sound and pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead in a parody of misery. “We’re on our own for dinner.”

Travis chuckled at her antics. “And that’s bad because …?”

Sober green eyes met his. “I’m not anywhere near the cook my grandmother is.”

Who cared? The company alone made the evening worthwhile. Travis edged closer. “I think we’ll survive.”

Liz’s eyes twinkled. “You say that now …”

He rolled up the sleeves on his chambray shirt. “Tell me what I can do.”

She wrinkled her nose and gave him a teasing once-over. “I thought you said you can’t cook.”

“I can’t.” Travis tried not to think about her touching him every place her eyes had been. He lounged against the counter, hands braced on either side of him. “But I can follow directions—sort of.”

She grinned at the understatement and went over to get the paperwork she’d prepared. “I’ll man the stove. You read through these.”

While Travis perused the printed pages, Liz got the meat out of the microwave and set a heavy cast-iron skillet on a burner to heat.

Travis reviewed the proffered terms. “You’re requiring only twenty-four hours’ notice if I decide to quit—which I can do at any time?”

She nodded, her mouth as abruptly sober as her gaze. “We hired you on short notice. I figure you should be able to leave the same way. Which I assume you will want to do as soon as we get your situation resolved.”

A few hours ago Travis would have agreed that would be the case. But that had been before he’d spent the afternoon on horseback, chasing cows with Liz.

“‘Room and board is supplied in full,’” he read out loud, “‘in addition to a salary of four thousand a month, minus any outstanding legal fees.’”

Liz drizzled olive oil into the skillet, adding a couple tablespoons of butter, then eyed him over her shoulder. “The language in the contract’s okay with you?” The steaks hit the pan with a satisfying sizzle.

Not surprised to find her as generous as ever, Travis nodded and signed. “Now take a look at what I drew up for you.” Their fingers touched as he handed her the file.

“A prerelationship contract?” she asked in disbelief.

Travis didn’t just set goals; he believed in hedging his bets whenever and wherever possible. “Sometimes called a ‘love contract’ by human resource departments. Or in our case,” he allowed softly, “a predating agreement.”

“Hmm. Precedent setting. At least on the Four Winds Ranch!” She read on, pausing to turn the steaks before they started to burn. “Basically, this says any relationship we should choose to have is of our free will and hence will not impact our work with each other in any way.”

Judging by her expression, just reading the words made her feel better. Which had been Travis’s intent.

“Right.” He grabbed a chair and spun it around, straddling it. “If we do decide to go down that road, and it doesn’t work out, there is no legal remedy to be had. I can’t sue you. You can’t sue me. Neither of us can say we were blindsided by anything that does or does not develop, because signing this document establishes that we had a past relationship. And have already shared one kiss.”

A kiss that had rocked his world.

And hers—if the look in her eyes immediately after had been any indication.

A reluctant smile flickered on her lips. “It’s a nifty little insurance policy, I’ll hand you that,” she admitted.

“One that will protect both of us, in the event anything happens. Or—” Travis paused, carefully weighting his words “—nothing else does.”

WAS THAT WHAT SHE WANTED to happen? Liz wondered a little unsteadily. Nothing? Or was she already hovering on the brink, wishing they could go back, go forward, go somewhere that would leave her feeling less unsettled than she did now?

The scent of slightly charred meat teased her nostrils.

Realizing their dinner would go up in flames unless she did something, she grabbed a fork and lifted the steaks onto a plate. Covering them with foil and setting them aside, she turned off the burner, then added a quarter cup of whiskey to deglaze the pan. When the brown bits had been scooped up and the liquid evaporated, she poured in beef stock and motioned him over as she turned the burner back on low. “Could you stir this for me, please?”

“Sure.” His hand nudged hers as he took the wooden spoon. An awkward silence fell. “So you’re okay with the predating disclosure agreement?” he asked.

Liz picked up a pen and signed on the line reserved for her. The lawyer in her knew he was just being practical and going the extra mile to protect—and reassure—them both. “It’s a good idea. Thanks for drafting the document.” Finished, she handed him the pen and watched him sign the document, too. Going to the fridge, she brought out the leftover skillet corn and a head of lettuce.

Wordlessly, he stirred as she cut thick wedges and drizzled them with ranch dressing. She realized she wasn’t the only one keeping her own counsel.

“I don’t want you to think I’m making assumptions,” Travis said eventually. “I just want us to be able to feel comfortable moving forward.”

That would be easy, with all liability out of the way. Liz walked back to the stove and added a dash of cream to the simmering broth.

“I know … and I appreciate it,” she replied, with the same professional calm, glad they were both thinking and acting like lawyers again. It was a heck of a lot better than behaving like lovestruck teens, making out on the street in plain view of anyone who might pass by.

“So, back to concentrating on the malpractice charges. I’m going to need copies of all the emails and letters you sent to Olympia and to Digger Dobbs regarding the business deal that fell through,” Liz said as they sat down at the table with their meal.

Travis cut into his steak. “I’ll put it together for you.”

“Did you keep a journal?”

The sauce-covered meat melted in his mouth. “No.”

“Meeting notes?”

“Yes. I followed up everything with a memo.”

“Great.” Liz forked up her own steak with gusto. “What about to-do lists?”

“I have some on my personal computer, but they’re cryptic. I’m not sure my shorthand to myself will hold up in court.”

Her gaze met his. “That’s okay. We can use them to bolster your recollections and help reconstruct.”

Liz looked up at the sound of a vehicle rumbling up to the ranch house. Confused, she glanced at the clock. “They’re home early.”

Only, Travis soon discovered, the Cartwright women were not in the drive.

His parents were.

“I TAKE IT YOU WEREN’T expecting company?” Liz murmured, glancing out the window beside him. Nervously, she watched Kelsey and Brady Anderson emerge from the pickup truck bearing the Double Deal Ranch logo.

Travis’s mother was as slim and fit as one would expect a woman rancher to be, her thick cinnamon-red hair, threaded with silver, falling over one shoulder in a loose braid. Brady was as tall and solidly built as his sons, and carried himself in the confident, purposeful manner of a wildly successful cattleman.

Neither looked happy at the moment.

Travis shook his head. “My folks must have heard about the suspension or the lawsuit—or both.”

Liz finished gathering up the files. She knew how difficult a family confrontation could be. It was bad enough when it was your own. “Hey.” She shot him a commiserating look. “If you want me to make myself scarce …”

Travis caught her arm and reeled her back. “No. You may as well be here. Before it’s all over, they’ll probably want to talk to you, too.”

Short minutes later, after the four of them were settled in the ranch house living room, Travis asked, “How did you find out?”

“Grandpa Hargett. It’s all over Houston,” his father said tersely. “And with him still being CEO and owner of Anderson Oil … of course it’s going to get back to him, that his grandson botched a big deal for another Houston oil company heiress.”

“What was his reaction?”

“He wanted to know why in blazes we hadn’t told him,” Brady said. “Instead, he had to hear it at the Petroleum Club.”

A muscle worked in Travis’s jaw. “I’m sorry if he was embarrassed.”

“He said he could get you another job, at the law firm that manages his personal affairs.”

Reluctantly, Travis confessed, “I temporarily lost my license.”

Watching, Liz hurt for him. This was any attorney’s worst nightmare. And for one as gifted and ambitious as Travis …?

Brady Anderson waved that off. “Doesn’t matter. Dad promised that they’d find something for you to do—and pay you a lot better than Haverty, Brockman & Roberts, too.”

Kelsey sent her son a beseeching look. “I know how you feel about your independence. When I was your age, I felt the same way. But you really should let family help you. Your grandfather knows lawyers who have close ties to the upper reaches of the Texas legal community.” She delicately cleared her throat. “Honey, all you have to do is talk to your grandfather….”

Travis knotted his fists. “No, Mom. I know you all mean well, but I’m not doing that.” He stood, signaling that the family powwow was over. “I’ve got it handled.”

“You know how I feel about nepotism and family influence,” Brady said. “I’ve always wanted you kids to make your own way. But in this instance …” He and his wife exchanged looks. “We don’t want to see you lose what you have worked so hard to achieve. And from what we understand, Olympia Herndon is a very vindictive woman, son. She doesn’t take well to losing.”

“Then she’s going to have to learn,” Travis vowed. He moved to show his parents to the door. “Now if you will excuse us, Liz and I really need to get back to working on my defense.”

“Wow,” she said when Travis returned, after seeing his parents off.

“See what I mean about interference?” he muttered.

Liz nodded, putting his dinner in the microwave to reheat. “Although it was well intentioned.”

Travis shook his head. “My grandfather, Hargett Anderson, is even worse.”

Liz carried Travis’s plate to the table. “He’s a very powerful man.”