Travis (21 page)

“Children”—Mrs. Van Mayes waved one bejeweled hand—“you may sit anywhere up and down the table.”

Violet promptly took the seat next to Travis. “This one suits me just fine.”

The lady frowned at her. “How sweet that you’re so devoted to your father.”

“He’s not really my father,” Violet said. “He’s adopting all of us.”

“Yes, I found them all.” Travis grinned. “They needed a home and I took them in.”

“What a big heart you have.” Mrs. Van Mayes turned her warmest smile on Travis, then looked at Violet again and frowned. “It must be hard without a mother for a young girl like you.”

“We are managing.” Violet scowled back at her.

“But you are missing so much,” the lady cooed at her. “You should be attending finishing school, learning French and embroidery, so you can move in the best circles and meet young men from the best families.”

“She’s a little young for that yet,” Travis said.

“One is never too young to think about society,” the beauty cooed and smiled again at Travis.

The children all seemed dumbstruck by the fine china, crystal and shining silver. They sat quietly, wide-eyed.

“And so quiet,” Mrs. Van Mayes said with a nod of approval. “Most children are noisy and tear up things.”

Violet looked at her. “You have no children of your own?”

The lady shook her head. “I wanted some, but you see, my husband died on our wedding night, so I’ve been alone ever since.” She wiped her eyes with her napkin as the butler came in with a silver tray on which was the largest roast Violet had ever seen.

Houston looked at her. “What’d he die of?”

“Houston,” Travis snapped, “you are being rude.”

“I’m sorry.”

He probably died trying to satisfy this lusty woman, Violet thought, but she didn’t say anything as the butler paused by her chair. “Roast beef, miss?”

“Yes, please.” She took the big silver fork and helped herself to a slice, plus some potatoes and carrots. She looked over at Travis. He was digging into that plate of food with approval.

At the other end of the table, the widow was inspecting the bottle of wine Jarvis had brought her. “Yes, this will do. See to Mr. Prescott’s goblet.”

And then to Travis, she said, “I do hope you like this wine. I had it shipped from France at great expense.”

Travis smiled. “Ma’am, I don’t know much about fancy wine, but if you picked it, I’m sure I’ll like it.”

The beauty blushed modestly and leaned forward so that her bosom showed in her low-cut dress. “Well, I do know a lot about wine.” The butler walked the length of the table to pour Travis a glass. Without thinking, Violet held out her glass.

Mrs. Van Mayes laughed. “Oh, my dear, you’re a little too young for wine yet. You need to learn so much. Have you ever thought about a finishing school? I attended Miss Pickett’s in Boston and that would be a good place for you.”

“I wouldn’t want to leave the children,” Violet said.

“Oh, but the boys might want to go to military school,” the lady suggested as she sipped her wine. “And of course, that little one needs a good nanny.”

The little one, Bonnie, scowled at her. “I want my dog.”

“What?” The lady blinked.

Travis laughed. “She’s got an old dog that she’s never separated from. We made her leave him at home.”

“Well, the poor little thing. Of course she should have her dog.”

Travis paused in eating. “Mrs. Van Mayes—”

“Please call me Charlotte.” She gave him a melting look.

“Charlotte, you see, I can’t hardly afford to send girls to finishing school or boys to military school.”

“Oh, but if they had a benefactor, that wouldn’t be any problem.” She gave all the children a smug, satisfied look.

Houston said, “I don’t want to go to military school. I want to be a rancher or a Texas Ranger.”

“I want to be a doctor or a scientist,” Harold added.

The lady stared at Harold. “Where on earth did you get the Chinese boy?”

“I found him like the others,” Travis said.

“Travis, you’re such a kind, generous heart,” said the widow. “How I’ve longed to meet someone like you. Wealthy widows have a difficult time in this world, everyone trying to take advantage of them when they don’t have a man to look after them.”

She was about as helpless as a black widow spider, Violet thought, but she kept her gaze on her plate. The food really was delicious and she wondered what it would be like to be rich. She already sensed the widow didn’t like her and was thinking about shipping her off to school to get rid of her. Could she send her any farther than Boston?

“Of course”—Mrs. Van Mayes gave her a chilly smile—“there are grand schools in Switzerland, and some of the best families send their daughters there.”

So there was a place farther than Boston she could be sent, Violet thought. She glanced over at Travis to see if he understood what this woman was planning so she could have the man all to herself, but he was grinning like a coyote and staring at the lady like she was sugar candy that he intended to eat up that very night.

It was the following Sunday after dinner at Charlotte Van Mayes’s house. Violet had taken the children to church and convinced Travis to accompany them. She thought he looked grand, but he seemed uncomfortable and ill at ease in the stiff shirt and tie.

Everyone, particularly the single ladies, turned their heads, smiled and nodded a greeting as the little family found their way to a pew. The congregation seemed abuzz with the fact the family had had dinner with the rich widow.

Well, there wasn’t much else to talk about in this sleepy town, Violet thought as she settled in and smacked Harold for pulling Kessie’s red hair.

It seemed hot in the little church, even for June. Paper fans from the local funeral home fluttered at every sweating face as the choir sang “Amazing Grace.”

Violet thought the children behaved well. She only once had to tap Houston on the shoulder for poking Harold, and even little Bonnie was quiet as she diligently scribbled on the back of a donation envelope. The windows were open and butterflies and bees drifted in and out of the building as the minister droned on and on, only interrupted by several old men who had dozed off and were snoring.

Halfway through the service, someone opened the big doors for more air and Violet heard titters and saw heads craning as Growler ran down the aisle, sniffing the wine-colored carpet until he tracked his way to Bonnie, who set up a cry and threw her arms around the dog’s neck.

Even Travis frowned, but Violet managed to silence the greeting and settled the dog under the pew and the minister went on with his service.

Finally the choir led in an off-key version of “Shall We Gather at the River” and the service was over. Dutifully Travis led the little family out the big doors, stopping to shake hands with the minister. “Good service, Pastor.”

The thin man looked over his spectacles at Travis and smiled. “Good to see you at services, Brother Prescott.”

Reverend Smithe patted each child on the head. “Poor little orphans.”

“We’re not orphans,” Houston said. “Travis has taken us in.”

“And so kind of him to do so.” The pastor nodded. “And you, young lady, so brave of a young girl to manage a house by yourself.”

Before Violet could answer, Mrs. Van Mayes walked up, dressed in expensive green silk and smiling. “Yes, Pastor, isn’t it brave of all of them to struggle along like they do? I think it’s so admirable.”

Violet frowned at her, but before she could say anything, Travis was tipping his Stetson to the lady. “Mrs. Van Mayes—”

“Charlotte, please,” she reminded him with a dazzling smile. “We are good friends after all.”

“Just wanted to thank you for the dinner the other night,” Travis said. “The children were so pleased.”

He nudged Violet and she curtsied. “Yes, ma’am,” she answered, “so pleased.”

“You’re a brave little girl.” The widow reached out and patted Violet’s shoulder.

“I don’t mind.”

But of course, the pretty widow wasn’t paying a bit of attention to her; her gaze was fastened on Travis. “How nice to see you in church.”

All the other single women were now gathering around Travis to the point that Violet felt pushed to the outside of the circle and she stood there tapping her foot.

Kessie scratched herself. “Can we go home now?”

“That’s not ladylike,” Violet said. “Don’t scratch.”

“I can’t help it; this petticoat itches and it’s hot standing out here in the sun.”

“Then gather up the rest of the kids and head home. We’ll be there as soon as I can reclaim Travis.”

“Who are all those old hens?” Harold asked.

“Shh!” Violet cautioned. “They’re all interested in Travis.”

“I thought he belonged to us,” Houston said.

“Just gather up everyone and go home. I’ve got a roast in the oven and don’t let Bonnie get into the peach cobbler before she eats dinner. We’ll be there in just a minute.”

The children trooped away toward their house down the street while Violet stood there patiently, as the ladies grouped around Travis, who ignored her.

Finally the ladies drifted away, all but Mrs. Van Mayes—she still chatted with Travis, who didn’t seem to mind at all.

Violet tapped Travis on the arm. “I’ve got a roast in the stove. If we don’t go soon, it’ll be overcooked.”

“Oh, what a shame.” The pretty widow nodded to her. “I was just inviting your father to dinner.”

Violet glared back. “I’ve already got dinner ready.”

“Oh.” The blond widow looked disappointed. “Well, it’s a lovely day. Mr. Prescott, why don’t I drive over and pick you up later today and we’ll go for a drive? I’d love to show you my ranch.”

Travis seemed smitten with the woman. He grinned. “I’d like that. The kids would, too.”

The lady bit her lip. “I was planning on driving the light buggy. Not much room for children, I’m afraid.”

“Then the kids can go to the park.” He turned to Violet. “You could take the kids to the park, couldn’t you?”

Violet said, “I remember Mrs. Van Mayes has that fine barouche with the double seats. It holds everyone.”

The widow gave her a steely look. “But it’s my driver’s day off and I couldn’t possibly manage the barouche alone. No, I’m sorry, I’ll be driving the small buggy.”

Travis stared at the woman as if she were a steak and he was a starving hound. “I’m sure Violet will be happy to take the kids to the park.” He poked Violet in the side and she grunted.

Mrs. Van Mayes smiled without mirth. “Children do get a little possessive of their parents sometimes, but they get over it. Good-bye, dearie,” she addressed Violet. “So kind of you to take your little brothers and sisters to the park so your father can look over the ranch with me.”

Travis tipped his hat to the lady, but Violet only nodded as the lady turned and walked toward her fine buggy.

The two started to the house.

“What’s the matter with you, Violet?” he scolded. “You were barely polite to the lady.”

“The lady wants to marry you. She’s done everything but post a notice in the weekly paper.”

He smiled. “You think so? Well, would that be so bad? She’s beautiful and rich, too. Just think how well you kids could live in her big house. We’re barely making it on my salary.”

“You aren’t thinking of us,” Violet complained. “You’re thinking how you’d like to get that beauty into bed.”

“Violet!” He looked shocked. “Nice young ladies don’t make comments like that. You shouldn’t even know about such things.”

She didn’t answer for a long moment, thinking she didn’t want to give her age and experience away. “All right, I apologize. I’ll take the kids to the park and you can go riding with Mrs. Van Mayes. She’s probably a better choice than some of those other eager hens.”

Travis snorted. “Some of those women are old enough to be my mother. If this town is determined to marry me off, it ought to at least be a woman I like.”

And can hardly wait to take to bed
, Violet thought, but she didn’t say that. She was so jealous, she was almost shaking, but of course she couldn’t say anything.

They reached the house and Violet served dinner. Of course, part of Bonnie’s went directly down to Growler, lying under the table, but Violet was too preoccupied with the elegant lady to say anything.

Travis dived in with gusto. “You know, Violet, Mrs. Van Mayes is right. You have too much responsibility for a young girl. It makes me feel guilty.”

“I don’t mind,” Violet assured him as she poured gravy on her mashed potatoes and buttered her hot roll.

“And that’s brave of you,” Travis said, “looking after all these kids when you ought to be learning etiquette and French. I’ll bet Mrs. Van Mayes can teach you a lot.”

“Not as much as she can teach you,” Violet said under her breath.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” She turned her head and addressed the faces around the table. “After we have pie, we’ll all go to the park.”

Bonnie had gravy all over her face. “Travis go with us?”

Travis shook his head. “Not this time, baby. I’m going for a buggy ride with a lady.”

Harold made a face. “You’d rather do that than swing or go down the slide?”

Travis reached out and patted his head. “When you’re a few years older, you’ll understand.” He got up from the table. “I reckon I’d better go comb my hair and put on a little rose hair tonic.”

“Why?” Kessie asked. “The horse won’t care what you smell like.”

Travis winked at her. “But the lady might.”

He left the room, whistling.

Violet felt like she was choking on her food.

Houston said, “He sure does seem happy.”

“Don’t he though?” Harold answered.

“Doesn’t he?” corrected Kessie.

Violet sighed. “You two behave and I’ll serve pie.”

“Can I have Travis’s pie?” Houston asked.

“Certainly not.” She got up from the table. “He’ll probably want it when he gets home.”

Kessie looked at her. “He doesn’t seem too interested in pie right now.”

“Don’t I know it,” Violet snapped and went into the kitchen.

They were all eating hot peach cobbler when Travis returned a few minutes later. “How do I look?” His hair was slicked down and the scent of rose oil hair tonic drifted heavily on the warm air.

“You sure you put enough on?” Violet asked.

He didn’t seem to notice her sarcasm. “I reckon so.” He walked over to look out the front window. “Here comes Charlotte now.” He went to the door and looked back. “Violet, you can take care of the kids?”

“Don’t I always?”

He didn’t answer as he went out the door.

Violet heaved a heavy sigh.

“Are you mad about something?” Houston asked.

“Me? Now why should I be?” She busied herself clearing off the table. “Just think how nice it would be for all of us if he married Mrs. Van Mayes. After all, she’s rich.”

Kessie stared at her and began to chew her nails. “We thought he was going to marry you.”

“He doesn’t even see me,” Violet said and blinked away tears. “Now you all get ready and let’s go to the park. I imagine they’ll be gone a long time.”

“Why?” Harold asked.

“Silly,” Kessie said with great importance. “She’s got a big ranch and there’s a lot to show Travis.”

“If you only knew,” Violet muttered as she carried dishes into the kitchen.

 

 

Outside, Travis strode up to the buggy. “Well, hello again, Mrs. Van Mayes.”

She leaned toward him so he got a good look at a great expanse of bosom in her pale green dress. “Please, dear Travis, call me Charlotte, all right?”

God, she was beautiful.

“Sure, Charlotte, although I feel a mite forward calling you by your first name.”

“Oh, don’t be silly,” she sniffed. “Now hop up here and drive. I’m such a delicate little thing, I can hardly handle a horse.”

“Of course.” He climbed up into the light buggy and took the reins. He noted the seat was small but not so small that she had to ride with her thigh right up against his as she was doing. Her delicate hands touched his as she handed over the reins and he felt his manhood come up at her nearness. “My, you smell good—better than honeysuckle.”

“Do you like it?” she murmured as he snapped the reins and they started off. “I had it sent from Paris.” She leaned closer. “Take a deep whiff to make sure.”

He took a deep breath. “I really do. I reckon it costs too much to get a bottle for Violet. She works so hard and never asks for much.”

She patted his arm. “Yes, she’s an adorable child. I’ll get her a bottle of perfume myself, nothing too heavy, something a young girl would like.”

He looked at her with admiration. “You’re a great lady, Mrs.—I mean, Charlotte.”

Her laughter sounded like a tinkling bell. “That’s more like it, Travis. Now turn this buggy around and we’ll go out and look over my land. I own ten thousand acres, you know.”

“So I’ve heard.” She was beautiful, all right, but his mind kept going to Violet.

“I’ve kept the foreman my husband had, but he’s getting old and ready to retire. I really need a man who knows enough about ranching to take over. I’m just a helpless widow and everyone tries to take advantage of me.” She wiped her eyes with a lace hankie.

“Never you mind, Charlotte. No one will take advantage of you when I’m around.”

She scooted even closer. “Oh, I just knew you’d be a Texas gentleman who would stand up for helpless women. You know, I just don’t know much about business and my husband left me with so much land and cattle.”

“It’s too bad your husband died. How long were you married?”

“Oh, only a few hours.” She dabbed at her eyes. “Poor old Rufus had a heart attack just as he was getting into bed on our wedding night.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. I’m an unplucked flower, so to speak.” She blushed.

“You poor thing. It must have been terrible for you.”

She sighed as the buggy trotted along. “Yes. It’s been three years now and every sort of villain has tried to take advantage of a poor, innocent widow, but I just knew, as a Texas Ranger, you’d be my hero and protect me.”

He flushed and glanced over at her. “I’d certainly do my best, Charlotte. It’s too bad you don’t have kids.”

“But I could do so much for yours,” she purred. “Why the boys could all go off to military school, I could hire a nanny for sweet little Bonnie and Kessie, and that oldest girl, I could send her to my old finishing school, Miss Pickett’s in Boston.”

“That’s mighty generous of you, Charlotte, but I’d sure miss them if they were gone.”

“Oh, but we could have children of our own,” she said. “Dear me, I’m being so forward.”

“That’s all right, Miss Charlotte.” He reached over and put his hand over hers.