Sienna Moon©

Free Online Romance Story

Written by American Author Sky Taylor

Story Starts Here

To her silence he eased out in a satisfied tone, knowing by her pale face that he had won the battle, "Good. Now go pack. And try not to hate me for this. Believe me, you’ll probably be thanking me later."

After that she was totally dismissed from the conversation, the two men acting as if she wasn’t even there. To avoid further humiliation she went to her room, mortally wounded.

Why couldn’t her father have sent Raul or one of the workers? Then again, the ranch wouldn't operate smoothly without Raul's savvy guidance. And of course, it was true about her being the only other one who could handle the feuding hillbillies.

The Junction was like entering another world, more like a warp zone she finally decided. She marveled over the fact that grown men acted like warring children. They didn’t need to; not with the herd of Appaloosas they held at bay. They could make their own way if they were just willing to work. But they weren’t and Maggie supposed that they never would be as they strongly believed in resting their lives away.

She swiftly considered Rock as she stuffed more clothes into the small bag. He did love his job, even if he was totally unqualified. Jess had gotten him the position two years ago, basically to get him away from Maggie. Being a sheriff had been Rock’s fantasy since childhood and what better way to get him out of her life?

Maggie miserably realized she had to go. She didn’t want Rock winding up back here, at the ranch. That would mean a feud that even the Hagans and Hannibals couldn’t equal. She remembered the past, the hate that existed between her father and Rock and how she always seemed to be right in the middle of their heated arguments.

By the end of the hour she had showered, packed her small case and changed into a lilac jumpsuit comfortable for traveling.

When she entered the library, only Travis remained. He flicked disturbing eyes over her swiftly so when she recovered she felt as if the moment had only been imagined.

Travis studied her in silence. These horses better be worth the trip to hillbilly haven with this hellion of a girl. He hadn’t been in her company more than ten minutes and he could think of more than a dozen words to describe her: spoiled, self-centered, stubborn, judgmental, swift to anger, high-handed, overbearing, arrogant, assuming, confident, argumentative and beautiful.

"Where’s father?" she inquired woodenly, setting down the case to flip back a strand of the long black hair which had escaped from a golden clasp.

"Jess was called away on an errand in town. He said that a farewell was unnecessary given the tense situation between the two of you," he eased out and her temper immediately flared. "You're lucky to have a father-"

"And we both know whose fault that is!"

He raked another glance over her lilac suit then instructed, "A useless situation," he muttered. Then, "Let’s get going."

He turned and walked away without even offering a hand with her case.

"Yes. Good," she added acidly. "The sooner we leave, the sooner we’ll return."

She jerked up her case and was right behind him when he abruptly turned. She gasped, her pink lips rounded, her face confused.

"My," he drawled deeply, "you certainly don’t sound like a woman fixing to meet up with her Fiancé for the first time in months. Must be some kind of a strange arrangement," he went on to expound – as if it were any of his business!

His glance swayed down to the case dangling in her small right hand, which he automatically bent to retrieve. Maggie in her newfound anger immediately wrestled against him, sputtering out angry protests amid the short scuffle. Without warning, the case popped open, the contents bursting into the air.

"Now look what you’ve done!" Travis convicted with malice.

"What? Me? You’re the idiot," she accused.

She stopped arguing instantly and stood in mystified horror as he began collecting the dainty, more personal objects and then started stuffing them into the open case.

"Just what do you think you’re doing!" she huffed, jerking a lace bra from him. But he had such a firm grip on the thing that it ricocheted from her hand and popped him tartly on his doubled fist.

"Ouch!" he remarked, his voice corded with animosity. Nursing his wound, he bit out, "I can already see this is going to be one long trip filled with unholy, blasted fun!"

Maggie clamped her lips tightly together and scolded, "Don’t be so sarcastic. And-and watch your language. I don’t have to listen to it!"

Travis wanted to scratch his head over her comments. He couldn't figure out what he'd said that she found so offensive. And with that thought in mind, he added 'insensitive' to his list of 'Maggie descriptions'.

She stooped to the floor and began repacking rapidly while he told her, "Oh, excuse me. I forgot there’s a lady in the room!"

She lifted accusing dark eyes and without faltering reminded, "And to think you considered me a ranch worker a little earlier this morning. Thanks for the ultra-quick promotion."

He sighed deeply, then protested using his hands as he spoke, "We’re not going back to that again, are we? Look, I was hot and completely worn out from my trip. And like yourself, I don’t have much patience. I’m sorry, okay?"

They stood sizing up one another for a moment before Maggie gorged, "Why don’t you just tell that to Raul? And furthermore, I have quite a lot of patience."

With that, she clamped the case shut and would have made a victorious exit if one of his thumbs had not been lodged in the case. And he let her know immediately.

It took him a while to squeeze the thumb out and then he slung it about saying, "Same blasted hand!"

She rolled her eyes over his taut face, silently debating whether she should speak or just remain locked in silence.

"Tell me, Maggie," he mocked. "Are you usually so vicious? Or are you a natural-born klutz?"

Even though she hated him she did feel bad about the hand; just a tiny bit bad.

"Here," she offered awkwardly, reaching out to collect it, but he immediately jerked it back.

"Don’t touch me," he advised cautiously. Then he thoughtfully added, "It looks like that before this journey’s ended I’ll need a garland of garlic to protect me. Good grief, I do hope my life insurance policy is up to date!"

By the time Maggie collected herself and promenaded out to the silver sports car, Travis had whisked the case into the trunk. He was about to enter the car and she silently criticized that he hadn’t even been gentlemanly enough to open the door for her. Father must have been in utter delirium when he had referred to Travis as the ultimate gentleman.

Father. Maggie was suddenly riddled with guilt. He wasn't a young spring chicken anymore and she suddenly wished that she had the chance to apologize to him. She still didn't want to go on this trip, but she did feel terrible about her disrespect towards him.

Before entering the passenger side she spied a package of cigarettes on the console. She didn’t smoke herself and not even for Rock would she ride penned in a vacuum of smoke for the seven-hour drive to the trail.

"Hah!"

He eyed her skeptically then impatiently inquired, "Well? What’s wrong now?"

"You smoke," she told him nonchalantly.

"No, I don’t smoke," he volleyed, almost delighted of the chance to correct her.

Unsatisfied, Maggie challenged, "Then what are those?"

She pointed a tiny, unpainted index finger toward the console. Being so tall, Travis had to bend to look inside where she had pointed, seeming aggravated that she hadn’t entered the car yet. He re-straightened, shrugged, then innocently told her, "Cigarettes."

"Aha!"

continue

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