Jesse needed to clear his head, find his focus. But all he had been able to do since last night was think of Katie.

Kate.

Hell. It hadn't just been since last night. It had been since he drove across the city limits.

He had become obsessed with her, her beauty-the innate sensuality that she was just beginning to discover. But it was more than that. Kate was beautiful in a way that went deeper than the surface. As much as her idealism and determination drove him crazy, he also admired her willingness to do whatever it took to make something happen. She wasn't a quitter. And she wasn't afraid to show that she cared deeply and unabashedly for the things she considered to be important in life.

He had taken responsibility for Travis as much because he couldn't stand to see her disappointed in him as because he didn't know how to do anything else. It was the right thing to do-he knew that-and he saw it that way because so often in his life he found himself looking at issues as if he were looking at them through Kate's eyes.

He cursed the affliction even though he knew it had saved him more than once.

But he had to set thoughts of Kate aside. At least for now.

Starting today, he planned to spend his mornings concentrating on his game. In the afternoon, once Travis returned from golf camp, they'd work on the tree house. And at night, he would concentrate on Kate.

He got hard just thinking about all the things he would show her. The pleasure he would give her. But that was for later.

He had allowed Travis and Kate and the tree house to become an excuse not to deal with what was really wrong. His game was falling apart. He was unable to take a driver in his hand without breaking into a sweat. He'd always had nerves of steel. But now his heart pounded just thinking about having to play in the PGA Championship. Was he choking now that he finally was considered a favorite to win?

And then there was his son. Jesse didn't really know what it was about Travis that made him want to make space for the kid in his life. Was it because the boy was something he had created-even if it was unknowingly, much less unwillingly? Something beyond himself, beyond the total consumption by golf that had been his life?

The boy was naive in so many ways, though far older than his years in others. Jesse wasn't sure what he was supposed to do about the kid, but he knew he needed to do something-give something to the boy beyond the memory of a tree house they had built together. Something that would provide him with a foundation of faith in himself, a confidence that he didn't have.

There was no denying that Travis wasn't happy and wanted to quit golf. This was after the boy had all but begged him to be able to play. Something wasn't right, and Jesse had every intention of finding out what it was.

And when he should have turned right to head to the country club to work on his swing as time ran out before the PGA Championship, he turned left and headed for Travis's golf camp.

His own game would have to wait.

Travis stood as far away from the group as he possibly could. The sun beat down so hard that there wasn't a green piece of grass as far as the eye could see. Stretching out before him was a long, mowed field with more grass roots than actual grass since the hard-packed and dried earth refused to allow anything to burrow deep.

When he took a step, a fine powdery dust puffed around his sneakers. He felt like Pig Pen from the ancient Charlie Brown cartoons that his mom liked so much, and just as much an outcast.

He would have skipped camp altogether if Jesse hadn't been watching when the bus showed up. That morning they had started out like usual. They ate breakfast-his dad was obsessed with feeding him. But then they didn't do any work on the tree house. Which was fine with him since he couldn't handle the tools very good. No matter how many times Jesse showed him how to use stuff, he couldn't quite get everything to connect right. Once he nearly smashed his own thumb, but Jesse had reached out real quick and grabbed the hammer just in time.

Travis shuddered just thinking about the potential pain.

But not even that compared to the very real pain of dealing with the bullies at golf camp. He'd rather be hanging out with Lena Lehman, who was pretty cool, even if she was a girl and a real know-it-all.

One day the two of them had snuck onto the golf course and played a few holes. The chipping and putting had actually been fun. And while he might not be all that great at the whole game, he had impressed her with his putting.

But then Jimmy and his sidekick Walter from golf school had shown up and hadn't been happy to see him. The last thing Travis wanted was to be embarrassed by those two in front of Lena, so he'd said he had to go home, and escaped.

Lost in his thoughts, he shoved his hands in his jeans pockets and hoped that Coach would forget to call on him. He didn't realize trouble was brewing until it was too late.

"Hey, perve," Walter taunted, pushing him in the back.

Jimmy didn't say a word, he just glared.

"Ah, hi," Travis said, flipping his hand up, then turning as fast as he could and heading for Coach, who was way over at the other end of the makeshift driving range, helping some other hapless camper with his swing.

But Walter and Jimmy circled in front of Travis, blocking the way. The only thing Travis could do now was yell. And he wasn't that big of a baby.

"Where you going so fast, fat boy?" Walter pushed him into Jimmy.

Jimmy pushed him back. "We have some talking to do."

"Talking?" Travis asked with a traitorous shake in his voice.

Walter shoved him up against the chain-link fence edged by prickly bushes, scraping his arms. "Stay the

hell away from Lena. She's mine."

"Oh." Lena had said she hated Jimmy and Walter. "How can she be your girl if she doesn't like you?"

That's when he got the big push. But since there was nowhere to go, the only thing that happened was

that the air got knocked out of him when he slammed harder into the fence. Travis realized too late that he shouldn't have said that to a bully.

"Stay away from her, piss face," Walter hissed.

Air rushed back through his body, making him dizzy. He thought he just might barf all over Jimmy's and Walter's fancy golf shoes.

"No problem," he said. "I won't talk to her ever again."

They laughed in his face and shoved him again. Travis tried to get away, but he only ended up in a cloud of dust and gravel when they threw him to the ground.

"You're a freakin' bastard, remember, perve breath," Walter added.

Walter and Jimmy laughed at that, but all of a sudden their laughter cut off like a guillotine had slammed

home.

It was the shadow that Travis noticed next-the harsh West Texas sun blocked out. Thank God, Coach had arrived to save him from certain death or, at the very least, the loss of a few teeth.

"What's going on here?"

The voice stopped him cold. Not Coach.

Travis glanced up and felt his heart cease to beat in his chest. It was bad enough to think of Lena seeing

Jimmy and Walter pick on him, but he thought he would die over the idea that his dad would see him looking like a wimpy moron, eating dust.

"Travis?" Jesse asked, his eyes narrowing as he took in the situation. "What's going on?"

Walter and Jimmy made a big production of pulling Travis up, dusting him off, and putting their arms around his shoulders. "You're all right, Travis, aren't you?" They laughed self-consciously. "He's our good buddy."

"Yeah, I'm fine. Really." Travis gestured to Jesse to follow. "Come on, I think we should go."

The boys didn't need any more than that. They turned tail and ran toward the campers who were lined

up firing golf balls into the parched field.

It wasn't until Walter and Jimmy had slipped into their spots in line that had been held by their clubs that Jesse glanced at Travis. "What was that all about?" he asked.

"Nothing."

Jesse considered him for a minute. Travis didn't worry that he'd pursue it. He never did. Using the

simple word nothing had proved to be a great answer to get Jesse to leave him alone.

"Are they beating you up? Is that why you don't like golf?"

Okay, it had worked in the past.

It didn't take more than a second for Jesse to realize he wasn't getting anything out of the kid. He

remembered the welt on Travis's temple. Suddenly the boy's desire to quit golf school took on a

whole new dimension.

Jesse's first instinct was to do whatever it took to make things better for Travis. "I'm going to talk to your coach."

Travis grew agitated and his eyes went wide. "No! Please don't. There's nothing to say, really."

Jesse's own father leaped to mind-the way the man constantly embarrassed him. One minute laughing like a boisterous fun guy, then next glaring with the fury that settled in his eyes so easily and at so little provocation. Derek had responded by becoming cautious and staunchly conservative. Jesse had become just the opposite of his older brother-careless and intentionally wild-and he had done it with relish.

But careless and wild, he had learned, had consequences. The kind that was standing right in front of him with dust and gravel sticking to his skin.

Jesse wanted to do this right. He didn't want to embarrass his own kid.

His own kid.

The words hit him all over again.

"Really," Travis added. "It'll only make it worse."

Jesse stared silently for a second, then he bent down on one knee. "I want to make things better. Tell

me why they beat you up."

Travis grimaced, looking despondent. "You really don't have to do the dad thing. You're not very good at it. But thanks." He headed toward the parking lot.

Jesse wasn't about to give up that easily. "Travis, I'm trying. Give me a break."

This time Travis groaned and hung his head.

"I'll fix things for you, T." That nickname that Kate used for Travis. Jesse had never wanted anything

more than he wanted to fix this for the boy. "Tell me what's going on."

Travis sighed wearily. "I guess they think I'm a nerd. You know, kind of like Xander on Buffy."

"You're not a nerd," Jesse stated indignantly.