Heart of Texas Vol. 3: Caroline's Child. Debbie Macomber

looked at him and blinked, as if she was afraid she should’ve recognized him and hadn’t. Jeremy and Emma burst out laughing.

      “This is Travis,” Emma said and reached for his hand. It was an innocent gesture, but it tugged at his heart.

      “He’s staying at the ranch,” Jeremy added.

      “From what I hear, I’m the first paying guest,” Travis explained.

      “Pleased to meet you,” Dovie said, holding out her hand. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m wondering if I could interest you in a raffle ticket for this fine quilt.”

      “Of course.” Travis reached for his wallet.

      “The Dorcas Group at church is raffling it off to raise money for missions.”

      “How much?”

      “A dollar each, or six for five dollars.”

      Travis pulled a ten from his wallet. “Give me twelve tickets.”

      Dovie flashed him an appreciative smile.

      “He’s a good guy,” Jeremy said proudly.

      “I like him, too,” Emma added.

      Travis tucked the ticket stubs securely into his hip pocket and wished Dovie luck with the quilt.

      “Thank you. How long will you be in town?” she asked.

      It’d been a common question all day. “I’m not sure yet.”

      “I hope you enjoy yourself.”

      Emma took his hand again. “You ready?” she asked. “For the chili judging?”

      “Sure,” he returned.

      “Is it time?” Jeremy asked.

      Emma nodded.

      A crowd had gathered around the chili cook-off area and the judges, five of them, stepped forward to do their taste tests. The samples were numbered so it was impossible to tell who had cooked which chili.

      “That’s Ellie Patterson,” Jeremy whispered. “She owns the local feed store.” A pretty brunette sampled the first taste and nodded in approval.

      “I hope that was Mom’s,” Emma said.

      So did Travis. The taste she’d given him the day before was fabulous and nothing like any chili he’d tasted before. He’d accidentally discovered her secret ingredient was beer but had been sworn to secrecy.

      In his short visit he’d learned quite a bit about Texas chili, which was different from anything he’d tasted in New York City or on his previous travels. In Texas the chili was thick with meat and spices and it wasn’t made with beans.

      “That’s Mr. Jordan,” Jeremy said, identifying the next judge. “He owns the Western-wear shop.”

      Someone called Billy D, owner of the local tavern, and Adam Braunfels, a restaurateur, tasted next.

      The last one to try the chili samples was a large rancher type.

      “Who’s that?” Travis asked.

      “Pastor McMillen,” Jeremy whispered back.

      That surprised Travis. The man looked like he’d be more comfortable on a horse than in a pulpit.

      After all the judges had sampled the entries, they cast their votes. The crowd grew quiet with anticipation as the town sheriff, Frank Hennessey, stepped forward with the results of the voting.

      Emma stood next to Travis with her eyes tightly shut, her hands raised and fingers crossed.

      Sheriff Hennessey cleared his throat. “It was a difficult decision this year, but it appears that one entry stood out as the most flavorful. The voting is unanimous. The winner is—” the faint sound of a drumroll could be heard in the background “—number five.”

      Travis frowned, not knowing who the winner was until he noticed Nell. She stood there as though in a daze.

      “Nell Bishop,” Frank Hennessey shouted cheerfully as a stunned Nell moved slowly toward the microphone. “It gives me a great deal of pleasure to present you with this check in the amount of five hundred dollars.”

      Nell might be in shock, but Travis noticed that she snapped out of her stupor fast enough when it came to reaching for the check. The crowd loved it.

      Following the competition, spoonfuls of chili, dished up in small paper cups, were left for the crowd to taste. People surged toward the table that held the samples labeled “number five.”

      “Yay, Mom!” Emma said, rushing forward and hugging her mother.

      “This is really cool,” Jeremy said. He exchanged a high five with his mother.

      Travis barely knew Nell Bishop, but he was as thrilled that she’d won the cook-off as if the success had been his own.

      NELL WAS EXHAUSTED. Exhilarated but exhausted. Adam Braunfels, one of the judges and the owner of the Chili Pepper, the best restaurant in town, pulled her aside when the competition was over. He told Nell her chili was the best he’d ever tasted and that he’d like to talk with her later about the possibility of buying her recipe. He wanted to serve it in his restaurant. Nell could hardly believe her ears.

      Following their conversation, Adam handed her a ticket for a free meal and suggested she stop off at his booth for dinner. Nell sat at one of the picnic tables at the far end of the rodeo grounds and savored a barbecued-beef sandwich and a heaping cup of coleslaw. It was the first time she’d eaten all day; she’d simply been too nervous before.

      Jeremy and Emma were with their grandmother, who’d taken them home. The kids had chattered incessantly about Travis Grant. Apparently he’d shown them the time of their lives and they sang his praises to all who’d listen.

      “Do you mind if I join you?”

      Her thoughts seemed to have conjured up the man. Travis stood directly across the table from her, holding a cup of coffee.

      “Please.” Nell gestured toward a chair, and Travis sat down.

      “Congratulations again,” he said.

      “Thank you.” She was dying to tell someone about her conversation with Adam Braunfels, but held her tongue. Nothing was definite, and she didn’t want to say anything until the details were settled.

      “From what I understand, I owe you a debt of thanks,” Nell said. “The kids told me this was the best rodeo of their lives, and all because of you.”

      “I was just about to thank you for sharing them with me. They’re terrific kids, Nell.”

      “I think so, too.”

      She pushed aside the rest of her dinner and reached for her coffee. After being on her feet all day, she was grateful to be sitting. “Ruth drove them home,” she said unnecessarily. She’d stayed to clean up the kitchen area and talk to Adam, but was so relaxed now she wasn’t sure she’d find the energy to move.

      “I heard someone say Willie Nelson was coming for the dance later,” Travis mentioned.

      “Don’t believe it.” Nell hated to be the one to disillusion him. “This is Willie Nelson country. We love him, and we send him an invitation to a picnic in his honor every single year.”

      “He’s never come?”

      “No, but then, we don’t really expect he will. He’s got bigger and better places to perform. We understand that and love him, anyway.” Whether or not Willie showed, the people of Promise would continue to enjoy his music. Willie Nelson represented everything they loved about country music.

      “Tired?” Travis asked.

      “A little.” An understatement if there ever was one.

      “Too