Scarlett did as she was told. This time, she took a seat on the end of the couch closest to Hal’s wheelchair. Travis had lowered his big body into the recliner and both men seemed intent on watching the news.
Half an hour later, Delilah announced it was time to eat. She’d set everything out on the dining room table, along with plates and utensils. She’d also poured four tall glasses of ice water. “Dig in,” she said, standing back and beaming.
The simple meal tasted delicious. When Travis went back for seconds, Scarlett gave in to temptation and did the same. When Delilah brought out a fresh pan of brownies for dessert, both Scarlett and Travis groaned.
Naturally, they had to sample the brownies, especially when Delilah offered vanilla ice cream to put on top.
“That was great,” Hal said, even though he’d only taken a few bites out of his food. Scarlett noticed the way both Delilah and Travis exchanged worried glances. As soon as possible, she planned to ask Hal more detailed questions and do her own research. She found it hard to believe that not a single doctor could figure out what ailed Hal. There had to be something they were overlooking. She at least had to try to find it.
After taking a nibble of his brownie, Hal wheeled himself into the living room, parking his chair in front of the television. He used the remote to turn the set on, ready to be engrossed in whichever of his favorite shows might be about to come on.
Delilah mentioned she needed to get home, so Scarlett shooed her out of the kitchen and took over washing dishes. A moment later, Delilah said goodbye and left.
When Travis appeared and grabbed a dish towel, Scarlett glanced up at him in surprise, but didn’t argue. They worked side by side in silence, she washed and he dried. The simple camaraderie of the chore almost made her think they could be friends. Almost. If she didn’t think about the kiss, that is.
The kiss. Handing him the last clean plate, she chanced a sideways glance at his profile. Rugged and masculine, he looked steadfast and strong, like someone you could count on in a storm. She’d never have guessed that firm mouth could also be tender and passionate. But why? He clearly disliked her. So why’d he kiss her like a man dying in the desert getting his first mouthful of rainwater?
He looked up and caught her staring, so she hurriedly busied herself rinsing out the sink. Should she ask? Or would that be making too big of a deal over a single kiss? While she dithered, he hung up the dish towel to dry and left the kitchen, taking the opportunity with him.
When Scarlett went back to the den, she realized Hal had fallen fast asleep in front of the TV. Chin on his chest, he looked fragile, parchment-thin skin stretched too tight over hollows and bones.
Heart aching, she sighed, catching Travis’s gaze. “I want more time with him,” she murmured.
“I do too,” Travis quietly responded as he got to his feet. For one startled second, she thought he might kiss her again. Instead, he grabbed his cowboy hat off the coatrack and dipped his chin in a goodbye nod. Then he slipped out the door to head home. He left without speaking, or even giving her a chance to ask the question that had bothered her ever since he’d kissed her.
Disappointed but not surprised, Scarlett locked the door behind him. Interesting how the instant he left, so did her restless tension. Now that he was gone, maybe she could finally relax. It had been a long day.
Kicking her heels off, she sat and swung her legs up on the couch. Massaging her aching feet, she thought maybe the time had come to invest in a pair of flats or, heaven help her, some boots. Though she adored shoes and had managed to amass quite a collection of heels, what worked in downtown Atlanta seemed foolish out here in the middle of nowhere on a cattle ranch.
Settling into the comfortable sofa cushions, she looked around the room and marveled at how quickly this place had come to feel like home. Despite the weathered furniture and a decorating style that screamed early 1980s, the ranch house gave off a genuine, rustic vibe.
Though most of that was probably due to the man dozing in his wheelchair. Her father. Words she’d never believed she’d be able to utter.
Watching Hal sleep in front of the TV, her throat felt tight. She’d gone thirty years of her life without a father. It didn’t seem fair that she’d finally found him, only to learn he was dying from a terrible, apparently incurable and completely unknown disease.
All she could do was make the most of the time he had left. Travis and his family may not want her here, but Hal did. That was what mattered.
Since Delilah had gone, Scarlett wondered if she needed to take Hal back and help get him ready to sleep. Earlier, when Hal had shown her the room that would be hers, Scarlett had seen the hospital bed that had been set up inside the master bedroom. She’d also seen the oxygen tank and IV pole. She wouldn’t have any idea what to do.
And, since everyone had gone, Hal must be used to doing it all himself.
But she wasn’t sure. As she pondered, Hal opened his eyes and blinked. “Are you still awake?” he asked. “What time is it?”
“Nearly nine,” she told him. “Travis went home and I’ve been sitting here relaxing. I’ve been wondering—do you need help getting from your chair to your bed?”
“Nope. I’m not there yet, sweetheart.” He wiggled his bushy eyebrows at her, making her laugh. Right after that, he yawned, not even covering his mouth with his hand. “I am tired, though. I think I’ll turn in. Will you be okay with me leaving you alone?”
Impulsively, she jumped up and gave Hal’s weathered cheek a soft kiss. “I’ll be fine. Good night,” she said softly. “Sleep well.”
Beaming, he nodded. “You too.”
Once he’d wheeled into his room and closed the door, Scarlett shut off the TV and retreated to her room. Once there, she closed her door and pulled out her laptop. She linked to Hal’s Wi-Fi—secretly surprised he had one, and then went in search of his router so she could get the password. Once she’d done that, she accessed the internet so she could research Hal’s symptoms.
Cancer seemed most likely, but Travis had said that had been ruled out. The weight loss and lack of appetite, the wasting away, those were all serious symptoms. And she figured the doctors had thoroughly investigated each potential disease.
Things didn’t look good for Hal. Travis had tried to tell her, but she didn’t want to believe him.
Her throat ached. She’d stay here as long as Hal would let her, no matter what Travis or his family thought. She’d look on the positive side and consider it a blessing she’d get to spend time with Hal at all and that she hadn’t located him after it was too late.
And she’d continue looking. Just because there were a thousand possible illnesses, she wouldn’t give up easily.
* * *
Travis started the morning the same way he’d done for the last ten years. Got up, showered and dressed, and made a single cup of coffee, taking care not to wake anyone in the house. Then he hopped into the cab of the truck and Travis drove himself to Hal’s house to have breakfast.
In the old days, Hal would have the meal ready before Travis arrived, but as Hal got sicker, Travis had taken over the duty. He had two specialties—scrambled eggs with onions, peppers and hot sauce, and biscuits and gravy. Both of them were pretty darn good, if he said so himself.
As he made the turn into the drive, he saw Scarlett’s little red car. At least he wouldn’t have to deal with her this morning. He doubted she got up before ten.
But when he strolled into the kitchen, he stopped short at the sight of her sitting at the table with Hal, heads bent close over steaming cups of coffee. His traitorous heart skipped a beat. She wore no makeup and she’d pulled her glossy black hair back into a jaunty ponytail, which showcased the delicate lines of her features.
Before he could help himself, he managed to zero