Travis took the phone from him and looked down at the screen. He looked up again, his brows brought over his eyes, a crease between those brows. “Is this her number?”
“No. I’m not sure what number it is,” Roman said.
Travis looked down at the message again. ‘Don’t give up on me. I’ll be in touch when I can. Please don’t call this number or come after me, it’ll cause trouble if you do. T.’
“What are you going to do?” Travis asked.
“Mulling it over. According to that if I go after her or try to call, she’ll be in trouble. Can’t help thinking if I don’t go after her, she’s already in trouble. I don’t know what to do,” Roman admitted.
“When did you get that?” Travis asked.
“Last night, late,” Roman said.
“When you decide what to do, you let me know. If you need help, I’m there,” Travis said.
“Naw, man. You’re just beginning to get in the right place with your own mate. Your brother needs you here for the holidays. Been a long time since you were right with them. I can handle whatever it is,” Roman said.
“You can’t go alone, you may need someone to watch your back,” Travis said.
“I’ll work it out. Not even sure what I’m going to do yet,” Roman said.
“Alright,” Travis said, noticing Roman looking off away from him, which was a telltale sign that Roman wanted to change the subject. “I’m going to have some more chili, before we get on that fence outside. Want some?” Travis asked.
“Yeah, I’ll take a little more if there’s enough,” Roman said, handing his bowl to Travis.
“You know what?” Travis asked. “She’s got enough cookies and brownies in there to choke a horse. We can have a couple, I think.”
“She got any of that banana bread in there?” Roman asked.
“Yes, she does. She made some loaves that she sliced up, and some tiny little bundt cakes with frosting drizzled on them. Which you want?”
“The ones with the frosting,” Roman said.
“Coming right up!” Travis answered.
~~~
Later that evening, Libby sat at the kitchen table decorating what would likely be her final batch, this weekend anyway, of Christmas cookies. Travis sat on the sofa, his papers spread about him on the coffee table, and even beside him on the cushions he sat on.
Every once in a while he’d reach down with a grimace and apply pressure to his right knee for a few minutes before eventually letting it go and going back to his paperwork.
Libby noticed it and caught Scotty’s eye, who gave her a barely perceptible nod letting her know he saw it too.
“Okay, it looks to me, that after we harvest the acres tagged for distribution, we still have twenty-three-hundred trees left available for anyone that comes here to get one,” Travis said, his right hand again kneading his knee.
“That’s a lot of trees,” Libby said.
“Yeah, but, if they’re not all sold, it’s not a problem, because they’re not cut down until they’re actually bought. If some don’t sell, we’ve got some really large ones left for next year,” Travis said.
“Is it enough if we get more people than we expect?” Scotty asked.
“I think so. Town’s only got 1700 people in it. If everybody gets one, we still have leftovers. Anybody coming through and decides to stop should have plenty, and if anybody’s coming from a town over, it’ll be only some of them, not the whole town. Besides, you put first come, first served on those fliers. Once it’s sold out, we’re sold out. But I don’t think it’ll come to that,” Travis said.
“How’re the cookies coming?” he asked, struggling to his feet and walking over to take a look.
“I think they look great,” Scotty said.
“Ya’ll are getting pretty good at that,” Travis agreed. “Ya’ll need me for anything else?” he asked.
“No, why?” Libby answered.
“Thinking I’ll go take a long hot shower and see if I can work some of the kinks out of this knee,” Travis said.
“Go ahead. I’ve got another batch of banana bread loaves and muffins in the oven. We’re going to slice the bread and put it in sandwich baggies, frost the muffins with the same frosting we used on the mini Bundt cakes, and get the cookies all bagged up, too. It should be enough to hold us over until the end of this weekend. If we need more, I can make them during the week. After that I’ll be looking for a shower myself but it will be a while, so take your time,” Libby said.
Travis nodded and reached out to smooth his fingertips down Libby’s cheek and jawline before heading to his room.
Libby waited until he’d turned on the water and looked at Scotty. “Is it always this bad?”
“It never stops hurting, but he usually manages to hide it. I’m surprised it wasn’t bad yesterday if it’s this bad today. I’m pretty sure he was hiding it from us.”
“He was on a ladder and up on the roof all day today putting up the Christmas decorations,” Libby said.
“He’s hurting pretty bad. He usually manages to not let anyone see him hurting at all. So, if we can see it, it’s worse than usual,” Scotty said.
“How can I help?” Libby asked.
“I don’t know. He doesn’t talk about it,” Scotty said. “I stopped asking if I can do anything a long time ago because his answer is always no.”
“Yeah, well. If this thing is ever going to work between us, he’s not going to keep telling me no,” Libby said.
“Can you finish this?” she asked.
“’Course. There’s only about a dozen left. I’ll let ‘em dry and then bag them up. What do you want me to do with the banana bread?”
“When the timer goes off, take it out of the oven and let it cool. Can’t do anything with it until it’s cool anyway,” Libby answered.
“Okay. I got it,” Scotty said.
“Thanks, Scotty,” Libby answered, getting up from the table and going toward Travis’s bedroom.
“Hey, Libs?” Scotty asked, smiling at her.
“Yeah?” she asked, turning toward him.
“I’m really happy you’re here.”
“Me, too,” Libby said. “I really am.”
Chapter 15
Travis turned off the water in the shower. He reached for his towel and dried himself while standing in the tub. Then he wrapped the towel around his waist and grasped the support bars he’d mounted strategically around the bathroom so that he could use his arms to support himself while moving in and out of the shower with just one leg. He tightened his grip on the bars that were mounted to the studs in the wall, then hopped over the side of the tub, landing securely on the nonskid bathmat beside the tub. He let go of the support bars and turned, hopping toward the sink to brush his teeth and hair. Once he arrived at the sink, he leaned against the counter top that he’d had raised to hit him above hip level so he could comfortably lean against it
Once done with his evening routine, he rewrapped the towel around his waist and opened the door, moving on one leg into the bedroom, by hopping on his good leg. He stopped, his hand pressed against the bedroom wall to keep his balance, when he realized Libby sat on the edge of the bed and waited for him.