A Real Cowboy Never Walks Away (Wyoming Rebels Book 4) (6 page)

Martha hugged her back. "Love you, girlie. Now go play with your daughter."

"I will." Her heart a thousand times lighter, Lissa grabbed her daughter's hand. "Let's go, squirt. It's fair time!"

"
S
o
, tell us, Travis, why exactly did you fire your lead guitarist and your agent?" The reporter in the third row asked.

Travis ground his jaw, shifting restlessly in the chair. Between radio interviews and the press conference he was currently enduring, it was the seventeenth time he'd been asked that question this morning, and he was getting damned tired of it. "It was the right move for all of us."

"But the quality of your shows has gone down now. Why would you make a decision that would adversely affect your career? Plus, you and Mariel wrote some of your best songs together."

Travis's head was pounding, and he just wanted out, but he fought for composure. "Why don't we talk about the fair? That's why I'm in town."

Another reporter raised his hand, and Travis nodded. "Rumors are that you have an alcohol problem. That you got drunk and knocked Mariel around. Malcolm rescued her, they threatened to sue you, and you paid them off to keep quiet. Is this true?"

Anger flooded Travis at the accusation. He leaned forward, gripping the microphone, unable to keep the fury out of his voice, even though he kept his voice clipped. "Everyone in this fucking room knows I've never touched a drink in my entire life—"

"Rumors say that's a lie," the reporter persisted. "Rumors are that behind closed doors you're an angry drunk, and the reason you don't have a new album out is because you're too much of a mess to write anything."

"This is over." Travis stood up abruptly, barely able to contain his anger. What the fuck right did people have to say shit like that to him? He ignored the questions and strode off the stage and through his security team, slamming the curtains aside as he went backstage.

"Travis. What are you doing?" His tour manager, Jason, caught up to him. "You can't lose your shit like that—"

Travis spun toward him. "No more interviews. Cancel them."

Jason's eyes widened. "Cancel them? You can't—"

"I'm not dealing with this shit anymore."

"Hey!" Jason caught his arm, and jerked him back to face him. "Listen to me, Travis. I don't know what the hell went down with Mariel and Malcolm, but you can't keep going on without an agent or a lead guitarist, and you're a fucking piece of work in interviews. Your career isn't untouchable, you know. It
will
crash and burn, and all you'll have left is ashes to pick through. Is that what you want?"

"Fine with me." He tried to turn away, but Jason's grip on his arm tightened.

"Travis—"

"Don't make a fucking scene," Travis muttered under his breath. "Get your hand off me, or I
will
get it off."

Jason dropped his hand immediately, wariness flickering in his eyes. "Listen, Travis, I'm your tour manager, not your agent. I can't keep trying to pick up the slack from what Malcolm was doing. You have to pull your shit together."

Travis closed his eyes, his hands balled into fists as he took a deep breath. "No more interviews," he said again. If they left him alone, maybe he could get through this week. He wanted to make this week work. This fair was where he'd gotten his break, the one that had gotten him out of this hellhole. He wanted to pay it back, but he couldn't take much more of this shit.

"Impossible. You're the local boy come home. They need to hear from you, and you need to come across as someone they can root for." Jason shoved an index card at him. "Here's your schedule for the rest of the day. Make it happen. Children's concert in ten minutes. Don't be late, don't miss it, and don't be an ass. Got it?"

Travis snatched the card out of Jason's hand. "No more media interviews today. Reschedule them."

Jason studied him for a second, and then sighed. "Fine. But tomorrow you better be back on your game. Got it?"

"I got it." Travis turned away, striding through the crowd, not even caring if his security team kept up. A children's concert. He was the one who'd suggested it originally. He'd wanted to offer something to the kids who were trapped in hell with no way out, like he had once been. If there was one kid in that audience who was enduring the life he'd led, and if he could show that kid that there was a way out, then he had to do it.

That was why he'd come. Not to give back to the community that had fucked him over, but to show any kids trapped here, that they could get out.

He could handle the children's show, but after that... He looked at his schedule for the rest of the day and swore under his breath. Every one of them was an up-close meet and greet with fans, the ones who harassed him with more questions than the reporters. The thought of mingling with so many people made resentment slash through him, and he shoved the card in his pocket. "One step at a time," he muttered to himself. Children's concert first. He could handle that. One song for the kids, right?

But as he headed that way, ducking behind tents so that no one would see him and recognize him, he wasn't sure he could even manage that.

* * *

T
he singer's
voice caught Lissa's attention as they passed by the venue for the children's concert. It was deep, rich, and seemed to wrap around her like an invisible caress.

Lissa stopped, turning her head as she listened. She knew there were many musical guests signed up for the fair, but she'd never heard a voice like that. It sounded familiar, but she couldn't place it. He was singing a classic children's song, but his voice was incredible. "Who's that?"

"I don't know. Let's go—" Bridgette tugged on her hand, and then squealed. "There's Maggie! Let's go say hi!" She bolted through the crowd, and Lissa hurried after her, trying not to lose her daughter in the masses. Teen girls were jostling against each other, screaming and gasping, as they fought to get into the children's concert.

Lissa caught up to Bridgette and grabbed her hand. "Come on, babe, it's too crowded. Let's go to the calf-roping—"

"Travis Turner's singing!" A woman screamed, as she shoved past Lissa and Bridgette, nearly knocking them both over. "We need to get in there."

"Travis Turner?" Bridgette's eyes rounded. "He's singing? Let's go hear him. He's amazing!"

Ah…that was why his voice had sounded familiar. She'd heard him on the radio plenty of times, but his voice was much more beautiful in person. She almost wanted to go into the concert to listen, but there was no way she was going to fight the crowds. "We don't have tickets." Lissa tightened her grip on Bridgette, beginning to feel claustrophobic with the frenzied crowds pushing to get in to hear Travis Turner. "Let's go, sweetie. It's too crazy in there—" She stopped suddenly, staring at the massive poster at the entrance to the children's concert. It was a Travis Turner poster...and the picture staring at her was of the man who'd kissed her senseless the night before.

Shock rippled through her, and her chest tightened. Travis Stockton was Travis
Turner
? She'd never seen him play live, and didn't waste time with gossip magazines, so she'd never paid attention to what he looked like. But there he was, staring at her with the same blue eyes that had mesmerized her last night.

She knew all about him. Everyone had heard about him. He was the number one country music superstar in the country, worth hundreds of millions of dollars, always on tour, always in the limelight...not a man who had any time to spend on a single mom who ran a café in Rogue Valley, Wyoming.

Humiliation burned through her. She had completely believed in him last night. She'd
trusted
him, and she never trusted anyone...and he was Travis
Turner?
She'd offered him a job for the week, making tips only. No wonder he'd said he couldn't help her out. Dear God, what a fool she'd been. How had she not seen through that? What if she'd
slept
with him, and become one of his conquests? As it was, she'd let him suck on her breasts and give her an orgasm.
Her first one in almost nine years, and it had been just a game to him? He'd been hiding out at a café, messing with a waitress too stupid to realize who he was.

She felt so idiotic. So unbelievably stupid.

"Mom!" Bridgette tugged at her hand. "Are we going to the concert or not?"

"No." She turned and started shoving her way through the crowd, trying not to listen to his singing, his beautiful, amazing voice that seemed to breathe light and warmth right through her. "Let's go watch calf roping. It's our tradition."

Bridgette grinned at her. "Ice cream first?"

"Ice cream first." It was all Lissa could do to manage a smile for her daughter, when her head was pounding and her chest was so tight she couldn't breathe.

But she did it.

She had one hour with her daughter today, and she wasn't going to let Travis Turner ruin it.

* * *

I
t was the same
. The same everywhere. The same fucking crap.

Travis finished his song for the children's concert, but there were no kids there for him to help or inspire. He'd done the show to reach the kids who spent the night hiding in the garage in hopes that their drunken bastard fathers wouldn't find them. Instead, it had been just more screaming fans, waving autographs, shoving against each other as they all tried to get closer.

He managed some sort of farewell, and then got off the stage. He got behind the curtain and then sat down, his head between his knees, fighting to breathe.

"Travis? What's going on?"

Travis sat up quickly at the sound of his brother's voice. Chase was walking toward him, holding a tiny baby in his arms. He was shocked by the sight of his brother. He looked like a dad, holding that kid like he knew what he was doing. Mira was walking beside him, her brow furrowed as she looked at Travis. He stood up, pulling his shoulders back as they neared him. "I didn't know you were coming to this," he said.

"You look like hell." Chase eyed him. "How much weight have you lost? Twenty pounds? More?"

Travis shrugged. "I don't keep track. What's up?"

"What's going on with you?" Chase asked. "It's not good."

"It's fine." Travis nodded at the sleeping baby, trying to change the subject. "How's the kid?"

Chase's face softened, and somehow, all the lines on his face vanished. He looked young, happy, and in love...nothing like the brother Travis knew. "He's amazing. You want to hold him?"

Travis shook his head and backed up a step. "No way. I might drop him."

"You won't drop him," Mira said gently. "Take him. Let him meet his Uncle Travis." She was beaming at him, relaxed and happy, so different from when he'd first met her.

The day he'd met Mira, her eyes had been shadowed, and her entire demeanor had been one of someone fighting desperately not to drown in her life. But now, she was so different. Whole. That was the best word he could think of. "You look great, Mira," he said softly. He didn't mean anything superficial. He meant more than that. Way more.

Her smile softened. "Thanks to you and your brothers standing up for me. I'll owe you for life."

"Nah. Just keep on making my brother happy." When he said it, he realized it was true. Chase had found true happiness. He hadn't thought it possible for a Stockton to get to the place Chase was, but he was clearly wrong. He looked at his brother. "I'm damned happy for you, bro." He really was pleased for Chase, but at the same time, it put a divide between them. Travis had nothing in common with Chase, the family man.

He knew suddenly that this was his last trip to Rogue Valley. He wasn't coming back. Chase had found his roots, and he didn't need to lean on his brothers anymore. Regret bit at Travis, regret that life hadn't turned out differently, disappointment that he hadn't had the capacity to be more than he was, to survive the way Chase had.

But it was what it was. He'd go back on the road. He'd sing. He'd tour. He'd force his way through until the day came when he went to bed, and his soul gave up the fight. It wouldn't be long. He knew that. There was nothing left for him, and he could feel his soul dying with each passing day.

Chase grinned. "Thanks. She makes me happy. Maybe you're next to find your woman, bro."