When Roses Collide

Chapter Nine

"Damn, boss." Brady said softly shaking his head as he started to round up the cows who were less than willing to leave.

Not that Travis could blame them; he suddenly didn't feel the desire to go either. He looked over to the house feeling like he had just let something very precious slip through his fingers.

After a great deal of fussing around, they finally managed to get the uncooperative animals moving and on their way back to the DR. Both cowboys rode in silence, lost in their own thoughts for miles. Dark was closing in by the time they could see the glow of the barns from the DR and Travis chanced a glance over at his ranch hand.

Usually he couldn't shut the guy up and prayed more than once since he'd known him for a sturdy piece of duct tape to slap over his ever flapping lips. But his silence the whole way home, was a new kind of torture. It left Travis with only his thoughts for company and the haunting feeling like he'd screwed up big time. He never looked back at his actions; never had to. Nobody stood up to him, challenged him or even made him feel like the total heel he was feeling right now. But then again, he'd never experienced a woman like Harley.

The little hellcat made him acknowledge a gamut of emotions he thought he was incapable of feeling or never thought he would. Damn, just about everyone he encountered, male or female, yes sir-ed him to avoid having to deal with his temper. Not Harley. That little kitten possessed some claws, a smile tugged at his lips at the memory of the dressing down she'd given him.

He sighed heavily. He wasn't the apologizing type, but seeing the way he'd hurt her with his harsh words, cut him deeply. The obvious disapproval of his rand hand made him rethink his actions and mull over a thing or two about the way he dealt with the situation. Brady's silence was like pouring salt into the wound. Dammit, it was a hell of a time for him to suddenly grow a conscience.

"Are you proud of yourself boss man?" Brady asked as he stood by Travis's horse waiting for him to dismount so he could unsaddle and put the horses up for the night. By the cynical frown, he must have been sitting there for a while not noticing they'd entered the barn paddock.

"Not particularly," he answered as he dismounted.

"Good. See you tomorrow." Brady grabbed both mounts and headed off to the barns whistling a now familiar tune. Whoop A Man's Ass.

Travis shook his head. How could one raven haired spitfire make him lose his employees respect and a bit of his mind in one afternoon? Sadly, it wasn't the first time he asked himself a version of that question today. He doubted it would be the last time he would wonder about his sanity when it came to that girl.

He turned and started to walk his sorry butt back to the house. The grand sight of the sprawling log home usually sent him a wave of pleasure to be back, but tonight, the sight made him feel a profound loneliness. He strode up the few steps leading to the deep wrap around porch and slumped down into one of the many chairs and gliders scattered about. Most evenings he enjoyed sitting here; a king overlooking his domain. Tonight he didn't feel the deep satisfaction he normally did and he only had himself to blame for it. Sighing deeply, he got up and walked into the house.

The inside was ablaze with warmth. Honey oak hardwood floors gleamed and soft light came from the lamps in the living room. The ranch house was built with an open floor plan; walls only being erected when necessary for structural reasons or for shelves, cabinets and appliances.

Walking through the front door, you could go left into the huge living room with a floor to ceiling stone fire place, cozy brown leather furniture, big screen TV and home theater surround sound impressive enough to make all geeks giddy with excitement. Plenty of area rugs in green hues lay about, softening the room even more. Most nights Travis made a bee-line to the overstuffed sectional sofa and the remote, but tonight, he felt too restless to kick his boots up and enjoy his typical evening ritual of beer and ESPN.