Travis (24 page)

“Thank you so much, but we don’t need her,” Violet said.

“But—” the lady began and Violet shook her head.

“I said we don’t need her.”

“I think we do,” Travis said in a harsh tone. “Now, Violet, since you’re just a kid, I make the decisions at my house.”

She gritted her teeth. “Whatever you say; after all, you are head of the house.”

Mrs. Van Mayes smiled triumphantly. “I’ll send her over tomorrow.” She went out the door in a swirl of blue silk, her bustle waggling.

Violet looked at Travis. “What’s she talking about?”

“Damned town is beginning to gossip about us,” Travis told her, stepping around the counter.

“I don’t give a damn if you don’t,” Violet said.

They stood facing each other and the air almost crackled with tension. She looked up at him, wanting to go into his arms, hoping against hope that he might reach out and pull her to him.

He hesitated. “Since when do you swear?”

“She’s pushed me about as far as I can take, Travis.”

He looked at her a long moment and she couldn’t read his face. “I think you ought to run along home now,” he said.

“Are we just going to continue like this?” She bit her lip.

“Damn it, what do you want from me?” he snapped. “You’ve lied so much, I don’t trust you anymore.”

“And you just can’t forgive me and start fresh?”

“I don’t know. I keep waiting for the other boot to drop.”

She didn’t meet his eyes. “Suppose there wasn’t another boot? Suppose what I told you is all there is?”

“I’ve been made a fool of once by a woman, Violet. I don’t think I could stand it again. Emily ran off with a gambler the night before our wedding. The whole town laughed at me.”

“I love you. Nothing should be more important than love. Do you love me, Travis?”

“Hell, I don’t know.” He turned and went back behind the counter. She wondered if he had been about to grab her and kiss her.

The bell on the door jangled suddenly and plump old Sheriff McClain hobbled in. “Howdy, Travis, Miss Violet.” He doffed his hat. “I need a little extra ammunition for the Fourth.”

“You expecting trouble?” Travis asked.

He laughed and shook his head. “Never much trouble in this sleepy town. I got to be the one to start the three-legged race and the other events, that’s all, so I need my pistol.”

Violet realized she couldn’t continue her conversation and she wasn’t sure there was much to say anyway. “I’ll see you at home tonight,” she said to Travis and then nodded to the old man. “Nice seeing you, Sheriff.”

She started walking home, lost in thought. There didn’t seem to be a good answer for this mess of lies she had woven herself. They couldn’t stay in Pleasant Valley and get married, even if Travis was willing, because it would cause too much gossip since she was supposed to be a kid. The only answer was for her to leave Pleasant Valley right after the Fourth of July celebration.

Tears blinded her as she walked up the dusty road toward home. He must not care about her after all. In fact, it would probably be a relief to him if she did leave town. Then he could marry the rich widow and they would raise the four kids at that fine ranch of hers. That would be best for Travis, and Violet realized she loved him enough to do whatever it took to make him happy.

 

 

That evening, Violet stepped around Travis as if walking on scorpions, and even the kids seemed to feel the tension in the house. Travis said little to her and she was afraid to ask what he was thinking, although once, when they bumped into each other in the kitchen, she felt the sparks fly between them.

He stepped back. “Excuse me.”

She stepped back. “That wasn’t your fault, I was clumsy and not looking where I was going.”

For a long moment, they stared into each other’s eyes and she felt drawn to him by his animal magnetism. She looked up at him, wanting him to kiss her, wanting him to—

Then one of the kids came into the kitchen and the spell was broken. Travis fixed her broken door without ever speaking to her.

Violet hardly slept that night and she wondered if he was having the same problem.

Finally dawn came and she rubbed her swollen eyes, got dressed and went into the kitchen. Travis was there first, making coffee. He didn’t speak.

“Travis,” she began.

“Yes?” He fixed her with those burning dark eyes.

Did she have the nerve to beg him to love her? That might give her the courage to come clean with him and confess everything, even if it meant she would lose him.

“Hey,” yelled Harold from the dining room, “what happened to the bacon and eggs?”

At that point, all the children began banging on the table with their spoons. “Breakfast!” they chanted. “Breakfast!”

Even Growler joined in by barking.

That broke the spell.

Travis grabbed the coffeepot and headed back into the dining room. “You all hush, she’s cooking as fast as she can.”

“Hold your horses!” She began breaking eggs into the skillet and slicing ham. She tried to get her mind off Travis as she grabbed up a platter and headed in to feed everyone, not looking at him.

He gobbled his food without looking up. “I’m expecting a lot of business at the shop today with the holiday right on us. Everyone wants to win that black filly.”

“Okay.” She didn’t look at him. “Do you want me to bring you lunch?”

He didn’t speak until he finished and got up from the table. “Don’t bother. Charlotte Van Mayes might come by with a picnic.” And then he was out the door.

Picnic. Violet resisted the urge to run after him and scream curses, but of course the children were all staring at her so she only took a deep breath and sat down to eat.

“Can we go out and play?” Kessie asked.

“Sure. If everyone’s got their chores done.”

The children scattered to do their chores and then went out in the back to play in the barn.

Violet walked to the front door and stared out. The street was busy. She looked down toward the gun shop. She didn’t know what to do about the competition, who was not that much older but much prettier and more elegant than Violet. Later Violet saw the widow going by and stopping at the gun shop.

Maybe she shouldn’t, but Violet couldn’t tear herself away from the window. Mrs. Van Mayes stayed at least an hour. Violet wondered if anything was going on there but lunch. She finally walked down the street and popped in. “Hello, there.”

From the way the beauty started and stepped away from Travis, Violet wondered if she had interrupted anything.

Mrs. Van Mayes frowned at her. “I must be going. I’m in charge of all the decorations for the parade and I have to have a committee meeting.” She turned back to Travis. “I’ve enjoyed our conversations so much. You’ve added interest to this dull little town.” She turned, brushed past Violet and went out the front door to her buggy.

“You didn’t need to come,” Travis said. “I had lunch.”

“I didn’t bring any,” Violet said pointedly.

“Well, I’m glad you came,” Travis said. “That woman was taking too much of my time when I’ve had so many customers today.”

Violet managed to keep her voice civil. “It didn’t look like you were rushing her out the door.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Never mind.” She spun on her heel and went out on the front sidewalk, staring after the widow as she drove away down the street.

Violet was so jealous she was miserable. She had to do something to occupy her time. She went home and put some bread on to bake. It was hot in the kitchen and she felt perspiration running down between her breasts. She opened her blouse and fanned herself with an old newspaper, closing her eyes and pretending it was Travis blowing lightly on her bare skin.

After she got the bread out of the oven, she checked on the kids. They had gone down to the park to play.

It must be near time for the four o’clock train, she thought and then she heard it in the distance. She went out on the front porch and watched it rumble through town. If she had enough money, she would get on it and go away somewhere south, but she had stayed on because she loved Travis so. It was hot as a chili pepper, she thought, standing there long after the train had passed through. In this heat, everyone had taken refuge from the Texas sun either inside or out in the shade somewhere. The street was almost deserted.

She saw two men riding into town at a walk. They looked dusty and their horses were thin. They were strangers, she thought, and they looked like they had ridden a long way. They both had beards and wore pistols tied low. Outlaws or drifters, Violet thought as they dismounted and tied their horses up in front of the bank. She watched them walk up the wooden steps and try to open the bank’s doors. Didn’t they know that banks closed at three o’clock?

They banged on the doors, but no one came to let them in. After a minute, they walked back to their horses and stood there a while, looking up and down the street. Somehow, the furtive way they looked around told Violet they were up to no good. She wondered where the elderly sheriff was today. Of course he might not be able to handle these two lean, dangerous-looking hombres. Maybe they would just mount up and ride out of town.

Violet went back inside and closed the door; then she peered out the window. The two had mounted up and were riding down toward the gun shop. Her pulse picked up some. There was no way she could alert Travis that they were coming, but he could handle himself.

The two dismounted in front of the gun shop and hesitated, looking around before walking in. Maybe they just needed some ammunition or a new firearm, Violet thought. Somehow, she had a feeling that wasn’t what they were after.

She glanced down the street to see old Sheriff McClain coming out of his office. He stood on the wooden sidewalk and looked up the street at the two thin horses. Then he started walking this way, the silver star on his vest reflecting the hot sun.
Good
, Violet thought.
Maybe they’ll see the sheriff and drift on.

Just as she thought that, she heard gunfire and the two thugs ran out of the gun shop.

“Stop!” yelled Sheriff McClain and he waddled toward the two as they came out of the shop, pistols in hand.

There was nothing Violet could do but watch as the two turned and shot at the old man even as they grabbed their horses’ reins. McClain managed to get off one shot as he fell and the two thugs mounted up.

She had to help the sheriff. In a panic, Violet ran outside, racing down the street to the wounded man even as the outlaws took off at a gallop, coming toward her. Then Travis ran out of the gun shop.

Now there were people sticking their heads out of buildings, coming out on sidewalks to gape at the noise and excitement. She was in the direct path of the outlaws as they raced away, but Violet was only intent on helping the bleeding old man lying in the street.

“Violet, damn it, get out of the way!”

She glanced back to see Travis in the middle of the street, pistol in hand. She froze next to the fallen sheriff, seeing the galloping horses coming straight at her. Past them she saw Travis taking aim with his pistol and the outlaws turning in their saddles to return fire.

Travis fired once, then again. One outlaw hesitated, shrieked, then slid from his saddle. The other paused and for a moment it looked like he would keep coming, but then he fell from his terrified horse, which galloped on down the street past Violet, throwing a cloud of dust on her. She threw herself forward to shield the bloody old man. The young deputy ran out of the sheriff’s office and some of the other men came running, too, standing over the injured outlaws.

“Someone find Doc!” the deputy yelled as people gathered around the wounded sheriff. Doc Adams ran out of his office with his black bag, bald head shining in the sun.

Violet looked toward Travis. He had gone to one knee, clutching his right wrist, his face a mask of agony as he dropped his Colt. Violet ran to him. “Travis, are you all right?”

She went to her knees and put her arms around him.

Sweat stood out on his face. “That damned wrist,” he muttered, “went out on me again. Damn it.”

“You got them, you got them both,” she comforted him. “Here, let me help you.”

“I can take care of myself.” But he staggered as he tried to rise. She helped him to his feet and he leaned on her.

A crowd gathered on Main Street with Doc kneeling by the sheriff’s side as the deputy put handcuffs on the two wounded outlaws and picked up the money bag.

Travis, aided by Violet, limped down the street to the crowd.

The young deputy yelled, “You all right, Travis?”

Travis nodded although she saw his face was white as milk. “I’m okay. How’s McClain?”

“It’ll take him a while.” Doc Adams looked up from the fallen man. “But I think McClain’ll make it.”

One of the bleeding outlaws turned and snarled at Travis, “Damn you. We almost got away.”

“I couldn’t let you ride over this girl,” Travis snapped.

“You’re a hero, Travis,” the newspaper editor declared as he began to scribble on his pad. “We need more men like you.”

The crowd murmured agreement.

“Not one with a bum arm.” Travis grimaced.

Old Mr. Jensen hurried up just then. “Travis my boy, you don’t look good. Thank you for saving my cash. You’d better take the rest of the day off.”

Travis looked like he might argue, but Violet said, “He’s right, Travis. I think you need some rest.”

“I’ll lock these two up,” the deputy declared, “and take them in to the county seat for trial in the next few days.”

In the meantime, volunteers helped carry the sheriff down to his house and the crowd began to disperse.

Violet looked up at Travis. “You took a big chance, coming after those two.”

“And you took a big chance getting out in the middle of the street. They would have ridden you down or grabbed you up and taken you with them.”

“I was worried about the sheriff,” Violet answered. She looked up. The saloon girls had come out on the upper level of the Cattle Drive to watch the goings-on. Once again, she thought she recognized one of them, but in this glaring sunlight, who could tell? “Let’s go home, Travis.”

She let him lean on her and they walked slowly down the street with the saloon girls calling to him. “Hey, cowboy, come on in. The drinks are on the house.”

“Hey, big guy, come on in and I’ll show you how we treat a hero.”

Violet ignored them. “I’ve got some fresh baked bread,” she said as she helped him walk down the street.

“Where are the kids?” The color was coming back into his face.

“At the park. They’ll hear the noise and show up.” She helped him walk inside and sit in a comfortable chair. “Would you like some water?”

He nodded. “Really cold water sounds good.”

She went out back and got a fresh bucket from the well, brought him a dipperful as she sat down on the arm of his chair. She felt so grateful that he wasn’t hurt. “I’d hoped that wrist would get better with time.”

He cursed under his breath and shook his head. “I reckon I can quit hoping I can ever go back to the Rangers.”

“Something will change.” She tried to sound hopeful. “And if not, we can stay here in Pleasant Valley.”

He leaned back in his chair. “That’s not the kind of life I had in mind, working as a clerk.”

Without thinking, she reached out and brushed the dark hair from his forehead, looked into his eyes. “You know, Travis, I wouldn’t care where we lived as long as we can keep this little family together.”

He looked up at her and frowned. “You’re just saying that because you feel sorry for me. I’m sure you could do better.”

“Well, you’ve got that golden opportunity with the rich Mrs. Van Mayes.”

He shook his head. “And be one of her possessions like her prize stallion or one of her thousands of cows? I don’t think so.”

“Her money would get your arm fixed and allow you to live in luxury.”

“You think I haven’t thought of that? They got a name for men who live off women.”

Duke
, she thought, but she didn’t say anything. Duke had made her whore for him so he could live well. What a fool she had been to believe he loved her and go with him to the Diamond Horseshoe.

She leaned over and kissed Travis very slowly, her mouth partly open. His big arm reached up and pulled her down into his lap, where he kissed her deeply and thoroughly. She put her arms around his neck and kept the kiss deepening, feeling his manhood rise up, urgent and rigid against her.

“I love you, Travis,” she whispered. “I’ve loved you since the first time I saw you and you rescued us all.”

He held her very close against him, but said nothing.

“Don’t you believe in love?” she asked.

“I used to, before . . .”

“Are you not brave enough to take another chance?” She kissed his neck.

He sighed and pushed her away. “It’s hard for me to trust a woman. They all seem to be cheating, lying bitches. I don’t take ridicule easy. I don’t know how much you’ve told me is true and what part is lies.”

She winced, thinking how he would be humiliated if he let himself love her and then discovered she had been a saloon whore. Every man wanted a pure, lily-white girl that no other man had touched. “I still love you,” she said and hesitated, waiting for him to say the same, but he did not.

After a moment of silence, she said, “I’ve almost got supper ready. You want some milk and hot gingerbread?”

He leaned back in his chair and smiled. “Sounds good.”

“The kids will be home soon and they’ll want to hear all about the outlaws.”

Travis grimaced. “And let them hear how pain brought me to my knees out in the street before the whole town? No thanks.”

“You nailed them both. That makes you a hero.”

He snorted. “Everyday stuff for a Ranger.”

She couldn’t bring him out of his gloom, she thought as she went into the kitchen to get some warm gingerbread and a glass of cold milk.

As she came back with it, she stopped and peered out the window. “Now who in the world is that?”

Travis took the milk and bread as he craned his neck to look at the plump Mexican lady alighting from a wagon out front. “Oh, remember? Mrs. Van Mayes is loaning us a maid for a while.”

“A maid? Oh, yes, but what on earth for?”

He hesitated. There was something he wasn’t telling her. “Well, I thought with all these kids, you could use the help.”

She stared at the woman gathering her things and walking toward the door. “In other words, my housekeeping isn’t good enough?”

“It’s not that at all. Now just hush and smile, Violet. The lady is doing you a favor.”

“Where is she going to sleep?” Violet went to the door as the woman knocked.

“She can have your room and you can bunk up with Bonnie.”

“I don’t like this at all.”

“Violet, I’ve made this decision, so you be polite and grateful.”

“Ha!” Violet opened the door then and smiled at the dour Mexican woman. “Hello.”

The woman scowled. Obviously, Violet thought, she didn’t like coming to stay in this modest house any better than Violet liked having her there. “I am Conchita, the housekeeper from Senora Van Mayes.”

Violet gritted her teeth. “Do come in. We’re glad to have you. Here, follow me and I’ll show you your room.” As she walked down the hall, Violet’s mind was busy. Of course she knew the reason the widow had sent this woman. She wanted a spy in the house to report back to her and to make sure nothing happened between Violet and Travis. She couldn’t imagine why Travis would go along with such a plan. Violet decided this couldn’t last forever. “Here’s your room.” She opened the door to her own small room.

The housekeeper frowned. “Not as nice as I have at the ranch.”

“I’m sorry,” Violet said, “but we don’t have the money Mrs. Van Mayes does.”

“I will get settled and then I will make supper,” the woman said, setting down her valise.

“I usually make supper,” Violet said.

“And now I will do it,” the housekeeper insisted. “Senora Van Mayes said you were a young girl trying to hold a household together. That is very brave of you, senorita.”

“Hmm.” Violet gritted her teeth and backed out of the room.

In a few minutes, the kids all showed up and gathered around Travis, making him tell about the outlaws coming into the gun shop and how he had wounded them.

Houston’s eyes were wide. “Wow! Just like a Texas Ranger. Can we go down to the jail and see them?”

Travis frowned. “I don’t reckon the deputy is letting people in. You all clean up for supper and I’ll tell you stories about Pecos Bill and other tall tales of Texas.”

There were noises of banging pots and pans from the kitchen and the children turned toward Violet with wide eyes.

“Mrs. Van Mayes has been good enough to loan us her housekeeper for a while,” she explained.

“Why?” asked Kessie. “We think your cooking is good.”

Violet glared at Travis and shrugged. “Thank you, but Travis and the pretty widow decided I needed help.”

Travis squirmed uneasily. “And she does. You kids are a lot of work.”

Bonnie climbed up in his lap. “Like Feather’s food,” she declared.

The other children nodded agreement.

“Hush,” Violet cautioned. “You’ll hurt Conchita’s feelings. Now be nice and use your table manners. You don’t want her to think we’re a bunch of hungry wolves, do you?”

The Mexican woman stuck her head around the door. “Dinner is ready.”

Travis picked up Bonnie and the whole family trooped in to the dinner table, Growler settling down beside Bonnie’s chair.

The Mexican woman came in with a platter of chicken and paused in the doorway. “Dog eats with family?” She scowled in disapproval.

Travis said, “Dog is family, just ask little Bonnie.”

The toddler nodded. The woman set the platter down and, with a noise of disapproval, returned to the kitchen.

Nobody said much; they seemed too self-conscious with the stranger in the house. Violet watched Travis. Kissing him had stirred her blood to the point she could think of nothing else as she sat down at the table and Conchita began to serve. Violet tried not to look at him, but once when she looked up, he was staring intently at her in a way that made her blush.

After the whole gang had wolfed down the chicken and hot gingerbread, Violet let Conchita clear the table while she sent the kids all outside to bathe in the big washtub. She had to bathe Bonnie, of course, and then wrapped her in a big towel and carried her into the house. She sat down in a chair with the curly-headed moppet in her lap.

Travis looked at her. “You know, you look natural with a baby in your lap.”

“Not baby!” Bonnie declared, her lip sticking out.

“No, you’re a big girl,” Violet assured her, drying her off while the dog lay at their feet watching.

Violet laughed. “We’ve already got four.”

“You ought to have one of your own,” Travis said.

Violet looked down at Bonnie. The toddler was dozing off in her lap. “Someone’s had a hard day,” she murmured. She got up and carried the sleeping toddler into her room and put a nightgown on her. “Now you and Growler go to sleep. I’ll be in later to sleep with you.”

“Growler not sleepy,” the toddler said, rubbing her eyes.

“You’re both sleepy and even the big kids are coming to bed,” Violet said, tucking the baby in. “I’ll sleep with you tonight.”

“Why?”

Violet sighed. “Because Conchita is taking my room.”

“You sleep with Travis,” Bonnie said.

Violet shook her head. “Afraid I can’t do that,” she laughed. “I’ll be in after while, so you scoot over. Now good night.” She blew out the oil lamp and went into the parlor, where Travis and the other children were playing checkers. She could hear Conchita cleaning up the kitchen and then the woman went into Violet’s old room and slammed the door.