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

this area.”

      “All right,” she told him, “but I haven’t got time to stop now. I need to go out and check the fence line. Tag along if you want.”

      “I’d enjoy that.”

      It wasn’t until Nell led a gelding out of his stall that he realized she didn’t intend to use the truck. Travis had ridden before—in Central Park. Years ago.

      “You’re going on a horse?” This probably wasn’t the most intelligent question he’d ever asked. But he had to weigh his decision; on the one hand, he wouldn’t mind some Western riding experience and it would be a chance to talk to her. On the other, he didn’t want to risk looking like an idiot in front of a woman he found very attractive.

      “You don’t ride?” she asked in a voice that suggested she should have thought of that herself. She expertly placed the saddle on the gelding’s back.

      He hesitated before he answered. “A little.”

      “You’re welcome to join me if you want. I’ve got Jake’s saddle and you’d fit that comfortably.”

      “Is Jake’s horse still around?” He figured that would have to be an older horse, which could only help his situation.

      “Yup.”

      “Does he take to strangers?”

      “Some.”

      “That’s encouraging.”

      Nell tossed back her head and laughed, her long braid swaying. “Come on. It’ll be fine.”

      Within minutes she’d brought a huge quarter horse out of his stall. Travis watched her saddle him, amazed at her ease with animals.

      “Twister, meet Travis,” she said, handing him the reins.

      Travis found it amusing that she’d introduce the horse to him and not the other way around.

      She led the two geldings outside into the sunlight. With a swift graceful motion, she mounted. “Do you need help getting up?” she asked when he stood there, unmoving.

      He tried to look as if the question had insulted him; actually he wouldn’t have objected to her holding the reins while he swung his leg over the saddle. With a mighty effort he did manage to scramble onto Twister—appreciating the fact that Nell didn’t laugh at him.

      As they started out, she set a slow easy pace, for which Travis was grateful.

      “You wanted to ask me about the area?” she reminded him.

      “Yeah,” he said jerkily as his butt bounced against the saddle. “Te-ll m-e wh-at you kn-ow abou-t the gh-ost town.”

      Nell eased to a stop. “Ghost town?” she asked, frowning.

      Twister, following the other horse’s lead, stopped, as well. “If I remember correctly, it’s called Bitter End.”

      “That’s why you’re here?” she asked. “Why you came to Promise?” She nudged her horse into a trot. “I thought you were a writer!”

      “Yeah.” Travis managed to keep pace with her, but not without a price. If he survived this with all his teeth intact…“I am. And I w-want to—”

      “Who told you about Bitter End?” she asked, stopping her horse again. The warmth she’d shown him had cooled noticeably. “You’re from New York,” she said. “You know Richard Weston, don’t you?”

      “I met him once, yes, but, Nell—”

      “What did he tell you about Bitter End?” she demanded. “We were afraid of this,” she muttered, not looking at him. “Everyone was.”

      “Afraid of what?”

      “It doesn’t concern you.”

      “Nell, if you’d give me a chance to explain.” He shifted in the saddle, wishing he could touch her, reassure her in some way.

      “You’ve already said everything I need to know. You’re a friend of Richard’s—”

      “No, I’m not! Don’t even think that. I met the man once, Nell. Just once. For a couple of hours. But it only took me a couple of minutes to see the kind of person he is.”

      That brought her up short. Her gaze returned to him, cautiously, as if she wasn’t sure even now. But he could see she wanted to believe him, wanted to trust him. He yearned for that as much as he did her kisses.

      “Valerie, my ex-wife, defended him—she was his state-appointed attorney. Richard mentioned the ghost town to her, and she told me. I was intrigued. A ghost town from the Old West, one that’s basically undiscovered and hasn’t been commercialized. I wanted to see it for myself, as background for a project I’m working on.”

      Nell said nothing. Then she said, “So you came all this way because of Bitter End?”

      “That’s what initially brought me here. Yes.” But he liked the people of Promise, especially Nell and her family.

      “Now I suppose you’re looking for some one to take you there?”

      “Yes—I want to see the town.” He wanted to learn the history behind it, too. It was more than just a ghost town, if what Weston said was true, and Travis was hoping to unravel its secrets, include them in his book.

      “I’m afraid you’ve made a wasted trip.”

      Her unwillingness to help him took him by surprise.

      “I won’t take you to Bitter End. And no one else will, either.”

      She sounded stubborn about it, but he could be stubborn, too. “I’m going there,” Travis said. “I’ll find it, Nell. Others have and so will I. But I’d rather we did it together.”

      “I can’t…I won’t. You don’t understand.”

      “Then explain it to me.”

      “That town has done nothing but bring Promise grief. We just want to forget about it.”

      “What aren’t you telling me?” he asked.

      His question seemed to catch her off guard. She was silent for a long time; when she spoke again, it was with the seriousness of a woman who knows more than she wants to. “Nothing good has ever come out of that place. Nothing. The best thing for you is to forget you ever heard it mentioned.”

      “You’ve been there?”

      “No,” she admitted reluctantly.

      “Then how do you know? Who told you? How many people have actually been in the town?”

      Nell shrugged, not answering him.

      “Then how can you be so sure if you’ve never been there yourself?”

      “Everyone knows,” she whispered.

      “But you’ve found out where it is?”

      She hesitated. “I have a vague idea where it might be.”

      “Where?”

      Nell made a sweeping motion with her arm. “It’s out there somewhere. Exactly where, I couldn’t tell you.”

      “And even if you could, you wouldn’t.”

      She nodded.

      “This is a historic site. Doesn’t anyone understand that?”

      “Bitter End?” Nell laughed without amusement. “Why is it so important to you?” she asked again.

      “Curiosity, mainly,” he told her. “Like I told you, I’m a writer and I’m using a ghost town in my book. I wanted to make it as authentic as possible. I’m also intrigued by the mystery.”

      “Well, you’ll have to ask someone