Sierra's Homecoming Read Online Free PDF

years living in Florida. She supposed it would be a while before she adjusted to the change in climate, but if there was one thing she’d learned to do, on the long journey from then to now, it was adapt.
    The doors of the big, weathered-board barn stood open, and Sierra stepped inside, shivering. It was warmer there, but she could still see her breath.
    â€œMr. Reid?”
    â€œTravis,” came the taciturn answer from a nearby stall. “I don’t answer to much of anything else.”
    Sierra crossed the sawdust floor and saw Travis on the other side of the door, grooming poor old Baldy with long, gentle strokes of a brush. He gave her a sidelong glance and grinned slightly.
    â€œSettling in okay?” he asked.
    â€œI guess,” she said, leaning on the stall door to watch him work. There was something soothing about the way he attended to that horse, almost as though he were touching her own skin….
    Perish the thought.
    He straightened. A quiver went through Baldy’s body. “Something wrong?” Travis asked.
    â€œNo,” Sierra said quickly, attempting a smile. “I was just wondering…”
    â€œWhat?” Travis went back to brushing again, though he was still watching Sierra, and the horse gave a contented little snort of pleasure.
    Suddenly the whole subject of the teapot seemed silly. How could she ask if he or Jesse had moved it? And, so what if they had? Jesse was a McKettrick, born and raised, and the things in that house were as much a part of his heritage as hers. Travis was clearly a trusted family friend—if not more.
    Sierra found that possibility unaccountably disturbing. Meg had said he was single and free, but she obviously trusted Travis implicitly, which might mean there was a deeper level to their relationship.
    â€œI was just wondering…if you ever drink tea,” Sierra hedged lamely.
    Travis chuckled. “Not often, unless it’s the electric variety,” he replied, and though he was smiling, the expression in his eyes was one of puzzlement. He was probably asking himself what kind of nut case Meg and Eve had saddled him with. “Are you inviting me?”
    Sierra blushed, even more self-conscious than before. “Well…yes. Yes, I guess so.”
    â€œI’d rather have coffee,” Travis said, “if that’s all right with you.”
    â€œI’ll put a pot on,” Sierra answered, foolishly relieved. She should have walked away, but she seemed fixed to the spot, as though someone had smeared the soles of her shoes with superglue.
    Travis finished brushing down the horse, ran a gloved hand along the animal’s neck and waited politely for Sierra to move, so he could open the stall door and step out.
    â€œWhat’s really going on here, Ms. McKettrick?” he asked, when they were facing each other in the wide aisle, Baldy’s stall door securely latched. Along the aisle, other horses nickered, probably wanting Travis’s attention for themselves.
    â€œSierra,” she said. She tried to sound friendly, but it was forced.
    â€œSierra, then. Somehow I don’t think you came out here to ask me to a tea party or a coffee klatch.”
    She huffed out a breath and pushed her hands deeper into her coat pockets. “Okay,” she admitted. “I wanted to know if you or Jesse had been inside the house since you brought the baggage in.”
    â€œNo,” Travis answered readily.
    â€œIt would certainly be all right if you had, of course—”
    Travis took a light grip on Sierra’s elbow and steered her toward the barn doors. He closed and fastened them once they were outside.
    â€œJesse got in his truck and left, first thing,” he said. “I’ve been with Baldy for the last half an hour. Why?”
    Sierra wished she’d never begun this conversation. Never left the warmth of the kitchen for the cold and the questions in Travis’s eyes.