The Journey Collection Page 6

  “I’m glad your parents were able to help you out, Penelope. Did my dad ever offer?”

  “A few times,” she admitted. “Last summer, he took Max’s Cub Scout den on a hike out at the ranch. Max still talks about Russ.”

  Taking a deep breath, Travis looked away. “Good, at least Max has a good memory of my father.”

  “You do, too. It’s just harder for you to see through all your anger.”

  Travis laughed. “That sounds like something Cal would say.”

  “Who’s Cal?” The sharp tone in Penelope’s voice had Travis smirking.

  “Are you jealous, baby?”

  “No,” she hissed, pulling her knees up in front of her. “Just curious.”

  “Cal works for the Sharks, one of our trainers. He also happens to be my best friend,” Travis explained.

  “He, huh?” Penelope shifted her eyes to his.

  “Yep.” Travis winked at her. “Green is a good color on you, Penelope.”

  “I wasn’t jealous,” she mumbled. “Besides, you weren’t exactly subtle when you were grilling me the other day.”

  “No, I suppose I wasn’t,” he groused. Travis leaned toward Penelope. “But at least I can admit that the mere thought of you with anyone else makes me come undone at the seams.”

  “It’s been a long time,” she whispered. “I’m not a fool, Travis. There had to have been other women.”

  “Not one,” Travis cooed, placing his hand on her knee. “Have there be other men?”

  Tilting her head, Penelope looked at him. “Nobody ever made me feel like you did, Travis.” Smiling, he leaned in to kiss her. However, she pulled away. “But that doesn’t mean that I can just jump back into a relationship with you.”

  “Baby . . .” The sound of the boys yelling pulled his attention away from Penelope. Travis turned just in time for Max to jump on him, pushing him to the ground.

  “Did you watch me practice?” Max asked, eagerly.

  “I did,” Travis laughed, rolling so that he was sitting on his knees. “You’re good. Better than me.”

  “No way,” Max scoffed. “You can throw a perfect spiral. Mine still flops around like a dead fish.”

  “What? No way.” Travis stood up and pulled Max to his feet. “Show me.”

  Max ran over and picked up one of the footballs they’d used during practice. Running down the field about twenty yards, he stopped and gripped the ball with both hands. Travis stood down field from the boy, waiting for him to throw it to him. Max reared his arm back, bringing the ball forward and letting it fly through the air. Like he’d told Travis, the ball flopped around, but for a ten year old boy, it looked good — much better than Travis had been able to do at the same age.

  Travis caught it, rotating it between his palms before tossing it back to Max. The look on the boy’s face was almost enough to send him to his knees: pure happiness. For several minutes, they played catch, an act that most fathers and sons took for granted. Guilt crept over him. If he hadn’t been a selfish bastard, then Penelope wouldn’t have felt the need to keep their son from him. Hell, she hadn’t even hidden him. Travis had put everything from Clarendon behind him, and in the process, he’d lost more than he’d ever known.

  “Come on, guys,” Penelope called just after Max had thrown the ball back to Travis. “We don’t want dinner to burn.”

  Max ran up to him. “Are you eating with us, Travis?”

  “If that’s okay with you, little man,” he answered.

  “Um, duh,” he scoffed. Snatching the ball out of Travis’s arms, Max ran over to Penelope. “Mom, can I ride with Travis?”

  “I don’t know,” she fretted, shifting her eyes from him over to Travis. “Do you mind?”

  Shaking his head, he replied, “No, I’d like it a lot.”

  “Okay. Just be careful.”

  Max began to cheer, which caused both Travis and Penelope to laugh. Travis helped her fold her blanket before carrying it over to her car, placing it in the trunk along with Max’s shoulder pads and helmet. With his hand on Max’s shoulder, Travis led him over to his car. When he climbed into the passenger seat, Max’s eyes were huge. Travis laughed, shutting the door behind him. Boys and cars — no matter the age, the effect was generally the same.

  Travis climbed in behind the wheel, and once they both had their seatbelts on, he followed Penelope to her house. Max was bouncing in his seat the entire ride, chattering the whole way about how all the kids in his class were envious that Max had met him. Travis had never seen a child talk so fast or loud, and he loved every minute of it.

  The minute Travis pulled up in front of the house Max was out of the car and up the front walk. Travis laughed and followed him. Penelope stood just inside the living room, ordering Max to pick up his backpack and place it where it was supposed to go. Max grumbled but did as his mother told him.

  Sighing, she looked back at Travis. “Every day it’s the same battle. You’d think he’d learn.”

  “Why? You didn’t.” Travis smirked when Penelope scowled.

  “Whatever,” she muttered, heading into the kitchen. “Wash up, boys; dinner should be ready.”

  “Yes, Ma’am.” Max saluted her, before motioning for Travis to follow him to the bathroom.

  Once they’d thoroughly washed their hands, they headed into the dining room. Penelope already had the table set. In the middle were scalloped potatoes, a basket of rolls, and chicken casserole. Max cheered and slid into one of the chairs, leaving Travis to sit across from him. Penelope came in a moment later with two glasses of iced tea and one of milk.

  “I hope you’re hungry,” she said, taking the seat between the two of them.

  “Starving,” Travis replied. “It smells delicious.”

  Penelope’s cheeks warmed.

  “Mom makes the best chicken casserole,” Max declared, handing her his plate.

  “I bet she does.” Travis smiled.

  For a few minutes, they ate in silence, just enjoying the food. Max cleared his plate and asked for seconds. Penelope laughed and scooped another helping out for him.

  “So, Travis,” Max said, ending the silence around them, “when were you going to tell me that you’re my dad?”

  Travis, who’d just taken a drink of his tea, started choking.

  “Max!” Penelope yelled, slapping Travis on the back.

  “What?” Max exclaimed, shrugging his shoulders. “It was a simple question.”

  “No, it wasn’t,” she snarled. Penelope turned to Travis. “Are you okay?”

  “Yep, just wasn’t expecting it to be blurted out like that.” Dragging his napkin over his mouth, Travis looked over at Max. “I swear I didn’t know.”

  “Oh, I know,” Max told him, acting like everything hadn’t just come to a standstill.

  “How’d you know?” Penelope asked.

  Max laughed and stood up. Picking up his plate, he smirked. “It was pretty obvious, Mom. I mean, every time the Sharks played, you’d get real mushy and start crying. Plus, I saw the pictures of you two in the box you keep under your bed. The math wasn’t hard to figure out, either. I mean, I am ten already.”

  “Max, I . . .”

  “Don’t worry about it, Mom,” Max chirped, interrupting her. “I’m not mad or anything. Besides, he’s here now, right? We can be a real family.”

  “Max . . .”

  “You bet we can, little man,” Travis said, cutting Penelope off in mid-sentence. She glared at him, but he ignored her. “You have my word.”

  “Good, but hurt my mom, Travis, and you’ll have to deal with me.” There wasn’t a hint of humor in his voice. “She cries enough as it is.”

  Without another word, Max carried his plate into the kitchen, leaving them sitting there with his warning hanging in the air between them. Somehow, Travis knew that he should heed Max’s little message.

  ***

  Chapter Eight

  Inspiration

  “Hurry, boy! We’re gonna be lat
e!” Russ yelled from downstairs.

  “I’m coming,” Travis hollered in return. He stood in front of the bathroom mirror, trying in vain to tame the curls on the top of his head. It wasn’t working; they were still crinkling in every direction. Frustrated, he tossed the comb on the counter and headed downstairs. Russ sat at the kitchen table, his legs stretched out in front of him, and a smirk spread over his lips.

  “Are you ready?”

  “Just waiting on you.” Russ groaned when he stood up.

  “You okay, old man?” Travis asked.

  “Yeah, just tired bones,” he grumbled. “I’m not that young anymore, boy.”

  Russ grabbed his black, felt cowboy hat and followed Travis out of the house. Begrudgingly, Travis climbed into the passenger seat of Russ’ Chevy, knowing he’d lose the argument if he pressed his father to take his car into town. They’d made progress on rebuilding their relationship, and the last thing Travis wanted was to ruin it by starting a petty disagreement.

  With one arm draped along the back of the seats and the other resting against the window, Travis thought about the last few days. He’d spent every moment he could with Max, trying to get to know his son and prove that he wasn’t a deadbeat. The longer he was around the boy, the more he’d found that he wanted to be. Max had a lively spirit — one that made Travis feel alive for the first time in more than a decade; he hadn’t felt that way since the day he’d left Penelope.

  A wistful sigh left his lips. When Travis wasn’t spending time with Max, he’d found himself with Penelope. They’d spent night after night pouring over the hundreds of photographs that chronicled Max’s first ten years of life. More than once, Travis had wept over how much time he’d lost with both of them. He wasn’t mad at Penelope, not after watching her with the boy. She was the perfect mother: patient and kind. Travis could admit that, ten years ago, he hadn’t been ready to be a father — not that it excused him from Max’s life, but now that he was older, more settled, he could be the father Max had deserved from day one.

  “You’re doing some pretty heavy thinking over there,” Russ said, pulling Travis out of his inner ramblings.

  “I am,” he admitted. “Got a lot on my mind.”

  Russ nodded before the turned into the parking lot. Circling around, Russ found a parking spot and cut the engine but made no effort to climb out. “You know, being a parent isn’t an easy job.”

  “I know,” Travis clipped. “But I can’t pretend he isn’t mine.”

  “No, no; I know you can’t.” Russ turned to face him. “That’s not what I am saying you should do, boy. Being a parent isn’t easy, but it’s worth it. I know you, Travis. Once you put your heart into something, you can’t fail. I haven’t told you this enough, but I’m proud of the man you’ve become.”

  “You are?” Travis asked. “Even though I ran away and never looked back?”

  Russ exhaled a sharp breath. “You didn’t run away, Travis. You stretched for the stars and didn’t give up until you grasped them. Your momma always knew that you’d succeed.”

  “She did?”

  “Yeah,” Russ murmured. “Why do you think she held on so long, Travis? She loved you.”

  “And I loved her, too, but she would have kicked my ass for leaving the way I did, for hurting Penelope like that.” Travis shook his head. “I was a fool.”

  “You were,” Russ admitted.

  Travis snorted.

  “Sorry, I ain’t gonna sugar-coat it for you. You can’t change history, but you can look toward the future with hope, Travis. Penelope is good for you. She won’t put up with your bullshit.”

  “When’d you get so smart?” he scoffed.

  Russ laughed, placing hand on Travis’ shoulder. “I didn’t. I just know how it feels to lose my son. Now that I have him back, I ain’t letting him go.”

  Travis reached up, sliding his fingers over his hand. “Me either, Dad. Not you, Max, or Penelope.”

  “Good. Now, let’s get in there. I imagine the gym will be packed for the pep rally.”

  Just as Russ had said, the gymnasium was crammed full of teachers, students, parents, and members of the community who’d come out to support the football team. Russ and Travis managed to find a spot against the wall. Travis looked around, finding Penelope and Max sitting on the right side of the gym with the rest of the elementary school kids. Max waved at him, a grin bigger than the state of Texas on his face.

  Travis returned the gesture before shifting his eyes to Penelope, winking at her. He’d be lying if he said that his feelings for her weren’t still strong. Travis had always loved her, but now he knew he was still in love with her. He needed her just as much as he needed Max. Together, he wanted them to be a family.

  The cheerleaders got into position as the band started playing the fight song. From the opposite side of the gym, the football players came running in, throwing their arms up and trying to get the crowd to scream louder. Once they were standing in front of their chairs, the cheerleaders led everyone through the Pledge of Allegiance, followed by the band playing The Star-Spangled Banner. Almost immediately, they started chanting, encouraging the team to win that night’s game against the Gruver Greyhounds.

  A chuckle rumbled in Travis’ chest. Every year at Homecoming, Clarendon would face off against Gruver. It had become one of the biggest rivalries in the Texas Panhandle. In fact, during his senior year, they’d created a papier-mâché version of one of the players from Gruver and burned it in effigy during the annual bonfire. Of course, with the drought hitting the area so hard, they’d had to cancel this year’s bonfire, but the spirit of the event still remained.

  About halfway through the pep rally, the cheerleaders moved over to the entrance to the gym. Jack picked up a microphone and stepped out onto the edge of the court. “Ten years ago, our Broncos led us to the state tournament, where they secured the second championship in our school’s history. With us here today is a member of that team, and probably one of the most successful alumni that our school has ever seen: Travis McCoy.”

  Travis pushed off the wall and walked over to him, thanking him before taking the microphone from him. Nervously, Travis placed a hand on his hip and shifted his eyes over to the boys sitting in front of him. They looked like babies, yet they carried themselves with pride.

  “I had the honor of talking with these boys last week before their win against Sunray.” The crowd started cheering, causing Travis to laugh. “Yeah, they put a whoopin’ on the Bobcats, that’s for sure. While I was standing in front of them, trying to come up with something clever and inspirational to say, I realized that it didn’t matter. Maybe they look up to me, see me as some kind of role model for never giving up on my dreams. But that’s not how it is, boys.”

  Travis paused, pointing toward the people listening to each word he said. “You see all these people sitting in the bleachers behind me? The little ones over there—” He gestured to where Max sat “— from the elementary school? They are the ones who sit in the ninety degree heat or the twenty degree snowstorm to get just a glimpse of the passion each one of you feel for the game. Making it to the state tournament opened a lot of doors for me, but my commitment to the team, to the game that I loved — that’s what put me in Austin.”

  He walked across the court, stopping a few feet in front of the first row of players. “You’re an inspiration to me. Each one of you has given me faith that there is still purity in the game. Thank you for giving us all something to cheer for.”

  Nodding to the team, Travis spun on his heel and walked over to Jack, handing him the microphone before settling back against the wall next to Russ. The crowd clapped and praised him, but he’d meant what he said: those boys had taught him to love football again.

  Twenty minutes later, Russ and Travis walked out of the gym, heading to the other side of the building so they could wait for Penelope and Max to come out. The rest of the pep rally had been spent doing more chants and cheers, announcing the homecoming que
en nominees, and encouraging the football team to do their best. Travis knew they’d put it all on the line.

  “Travis!” Max yelled. He looked over and found Max running toward him with a goofy grin on his face. Penelope was right behind him, her arms filled with his jacket and backpack.

  “Hey, little man.” Travis groaned when Max jumped on him. He didn’t weigh more than about seventy pounds, but he’d learned to use that weight effectively. “How was school?”

  “Boring,” Max scoffed, taking a step back. “Mr. Nickels assigned us homework. Can you believe that? It’s Friday, and there’s a game tonight!”

  “What was he thinking?” Travis chuckled.

  Max shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know.”

  “Maybe if you all hadn’t been talking during reading, then he wouldn’t have felt the need to assign you extra work,” Penelope said, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

  Flinching, Max sighed. “Yeah, that probably didn’t help.”

  “Hello, Penelope, it’s nice to see you again,” Russ said, leaning around Max and Travis to kiss her on the cheek.

  “You, too, Russ,” she murmured, sucking her bottom lip between her teeth. “Are you coming to the game tonight?”

  “Yes, Ma’am, I figured I would,” Russ chirped. “Been awhile since I’ve been to one.”

  “Why?” Max asked, pulling everyone’s attention to him.

  “Well, I don’t know,” Russ replied, squatting down in front of the boy. His knees popped, but Russ ignored it. “Suppose it’s because I didn’t have a reason to go until tonight.”