Authors: Georgina Gentry
Travis (11 page)
She got up, took his cup and poured it. When she handed it back to him, their fingers brushed. To her, it felt like a lightning strike, but if he felt it too, he didn’t make any motion. Yet he was staring at her; she was very aware of that.
“What are you thinking?” she asked.
“Uh, nothing much.” He looked confused as he sipped the coffee. “Tomorrow, I’ll try to get the kitchen stove working and buy a couple of kerosene lamps on credit.”
“I can manage with just the fireplace for a while if I have to.” She wanted to sit down in his lap, but of course she didn’t. She sat down on the floor next to his chair and leaned her head against the arm.
His big hand reached out hesitantly and stroked her hair. “You’re a nice kid, Violet.”
Her heart sank. She had created this mess herself. Now there was no way to tell him she was a grown woman without him asking questions she didn’t want to answer.
The kids sat on the floor around the fire, Growler asleep among them.
Travis yawned. “You kids can start school tomorrow.”
Houston said, “We’re almost like a real family.”
“Maybe so,” Travis said softly.
“Then you need to get a wife,” Harold said importantly. “To be a real family, you got to get a wife.”
Violet felt like pinching the little boy for his observations. “I thought I was doing a pretty good job as a mother.”
Travis laughed. “What he means, Violet, is that you’re not old enough to be a wife. Anyway, we’re doing just fine alone.”
Harold said, “But if you found a lady you wanted to marry, wouldn’t you?”
Travis laughed again. “She’d have to be mighty pretty.”
“Prettier than Violet?” the boy asked.
“I think it’s time we all went to bed,” Violet interrupted and got to her feet. She didn’t want the kids giving away her secret, if they even remembered it.
“I think she’s right,” Travis echoed. “You’re all going to school tomorrow and I start my new job.”
Kessie said, “Bonnie is too young to go to school.”
“That’s right,” Violet agreed. “I’ll stay home and take care of her.”
“No, you don’t, young lady. You’re going to school with the others. Maybe we can talk the teacher into taking Bonnie, too.”
“I hope she’s pretty,” Houston said seriously. “Then maybe you’ll get married and we can stay together forever.”
“Quit talkin’ about marriage.” Travis frowned. “I’ve had enough of women and their lying ways. We can do just fine without one.”
Violet felt her heart skip a beat. She was the biggest liar of all. Travis was a proud man and he wouldn’t want a saloon tart for a wife. However, sooner or later, he would figure out she wasn’t really thirteen years old and before that, she would have to leave. She didn’t want him to ever find out her sordid past.
The next morning, she fixed them all a good breakfast, with ham and eggs bought on credit at the general store; then Travis told everyone to get washed up for school. With Growler following along beside Bonnie, the group started walking down the street.
It looked like a typical one-room schoolhouse, Travis thought, white frame with Texas and American flags flying out front. He walked up on the porch and opened the door. About a dozen young faces turned to look at him from their desks. The tall, thin woman writing on the blackboard at the front of the room paused and turned. “Yes?”
Travis took off his Stetson and shooed the children inside. “Excuse me, ma’am, but we’re new in town and I’m here to enroll my children.”
The woman looked over her spectacles at him. “Usually, it’s the mother who brings the children the first day.”
He gave her his best smile. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I don’t have a wife. It’s just me and the kids.”
“Children,” she corrected sternly and motioned. “Come in, come in.” She gestured as if she was used to giving orders.
Violet pushed the reluctant children ahead of her, keenly aware of the stares of the other students. She thought the bony woman looked like a vulture glaring over her wire-rimmed glasses. The room smelled like chalk and old lunches.
The woman frowned down at all of them and then peered at Travis. “Are they all yours?”
It was evident they weren’t, Violet thought, looking at Harold and then to Travis with his high-cheekboned face.
“No, ma’am, they’re adopted.”
The students at their desks tittered while the bony lady slapped a ruler against a desk. “Be quiet, class, or I’ll keep everyone after school.”
“I just want to get them enrolled,” Travis said and gave her an engaging smile.
“Humph. You do realize that there’s only four weeks of school left before we break for summer?”
Travis gave the woman his most engaging smile. “I realize that, ma’am, but we just moved in and I’m sure you can teach them a lot in four weeks.”
Her bony face now turned pink at the compliment. “Well, I guess I can. I am Miss Brewster.”
“We are right proud to know you,” Travis said. “This oldest one is Violet, the little redhead is Kessie, that tall one is Houston and this one”—he put his hand on Harold’s thin shoulder—“this here is Harold.”
“Harold?” Her eyes widened.
“I named myself,” Harold explained.
The class tittered again and Miss Brewster rapped with her ruler as she faced Travis. “You expect me to teach that Oriental boy? There’s a laundry just off Main Street—”
“No, ma’am,” Travis frowned. “He wants to be a doctor or a scientist, not work in a laundry.”
She looked over her spectacles at Bonnie. “This one looks too young to be in school.”
Bonnie clung to Travis’s hand while Growler lay down next to her and began to scratch a flea.
“It’s outrageous that you’ve brought a dog in here,” Miss Brewster said. “And that child is too young—”
“She’s an orphan,” Travis snapped, “and I got no place to leave her while I work, ma’am, and she cries if we try to take the dog away from her.”
“Give me strength,” whispered Miss Brewster under her breath, then she said, “I just can’t—”
“I’d be so obliged if you’d help me out.” Travis grinned at her. “I’m just a single man trying to raise five kids alone and I think learning under a pretty, smart lady like you would do wonders for them.”
The bony Miss Brewster’s face turned pink again and she appeared flustered. “Well, I might try it awhile and see if she’s any trouble—”
Violet stepped in. “Ma’am, I’ll make sure she’s no trouble.”
“But the dog—” began Miss Brewster.
Travis leaned even closer to the lady. “Ma’am, he’s just a little dog. Don’t you think you could find it in your heart not to notice him if he’s laying under her desk?”
“Lying,” Miss Brewster corrected. “Lying under her desk.”
“So it’s agreed then?” Travis stuck out his hand and took her limp fingers in his. “You’re such a credit to the teaching profession, ma’am, I hope to see more of you.”
Miss Brewster looked both flattered and bewildered. “But I’m not sure—”
“Thank you, Miss Brewster. You’re as nice as you are pretty.”
Violet watched the old maid teacher melt under Travis’s smile. “Well, what is a teacher for anyway, if she can’t help all the children she can?”
Violet snorted, but no one seemed to notice. Miss Brewster was smiling up at Travis like he was Romeo and she was Juliet. If that old maid thought she was going to grab Travis Prescott, she would have to step over Violet.
“All right, kids.” Travis turned to his brood. “You all find desks and Miss Brewster will tell you what to do. I’ll be at the gun shop when you get out of school. Have you all got your lunches?”
They all nodded. Violet stood there speechless and watched Travis walk out of the school, leaving her and the four children with Miss Brewster.
Miss Brewster pointed them all to empty desks. “Now children, introduce yourselves to the others.”
Violet felt like an idiot as she managed to say, “I’m Violet.”
Bonnie was too shy and Kessie had to introduce her. All the children laughed when Harold said his name.
The teacher looked down her nose at him. “Harold is indeed a strange name for an Oriental boy.”
“It’s a good name for a scientist or a doctor,” he answered and sat down.
Houston was slow to come forward, leaning on his crutch. He whispered his name and Miss Brewster snapped, “Talk louder, young man. We can’t hear you.”
“I am Houston, named for Sam Houston.”
The other children laughed and a fat boy on the front row said, “He’s crippled, he don’t deserve a good name like that.”
“He does, too,” Violet snapped. “He saved us from bandits down by the river.”
Houston’s thin face turned scarlet and he sat down while the other children tittered.
Violet wanted to grab the kids up and take them out of there, but of course, Travis wanted everyone in school.
Violet thought the morning passed slowly, but she had to admit that when the town children read she found the stories interesting.
At lunchtime, all the town kids gathered around the newcomers. “You all are tramps,” a big boy taunted.
“And that Chink should go back to China,” shouted another.
“I’m not from China, I’m from New York City,” said Harold as a boy pushed him.
“Stop it!” Violet said. “Stop bullying or I’ll tell Miss Brewster.”
“Oh, you’re just a girl,” another boy taunted. “We ain’t talking to you, missy.”
Now they were crowding around Houston. “Hey, look, he’s got a crutch. We don’t want no cripples in our school.”
Violet gathered her four together and faced the bullies. “Our father used to be a Texas Ranger, so you better leave us alone.”
About that time, the bell rang and everyone had to go back inside, including the dog. Growler lay next to Bonnie’s desk, snoring away, although he awoke now and then to scratch a flea.
Miss Brewster glared at the dog as if she was going to throw him out of her school, then seemed to remember. As the day ended, she patted Violet on the shoulder again. “Be sure and tell your father how much I liked the children. Maybe he can come up to school again and we’ll visit about how much you’re all learning.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Violet said as she gathered up her group and headed out the door. She had no intention of telling Travis anything. Miss Brewster might think she could interest Travis, but Violet had already planned that no single woman would have a chance with him—except herself.
Chapter 8
Violet carried Bonnie as she led the children home with Growler following along behind.
When they got inside, Houston grabbed her arm. “Don’t tell Travis about the bully, will you not?”
“That little rascal ought to be spanked,” Violet answered.
“But the boys will laugh even more if Travis comes up and tattles to the teacher.”
“Okay.” She turned to the others. “Here’s what we do; we don’t tell Travis about the bullies until we decide what to do.”
“What can we do?” Harold asked. “They’re bigger than we are.”
“But not smarter,” Kessie said.
“You’re right about that.” Violet nodded. “Now why don’t I make a batch of cookies and then we’ll clean our home some more?”
“Home,” Bonnie lisped and patted the dog. “Our home.”
“Anywhere love is is a home, right, kids?” Violet asked and hugged each of them.
“We all love you,” Harold said. “I wish Travis would marry you and then we could be a real family.”
That must have reminded Bonnie of their first meeting because she giggled. “Feathers, you are Feathers.”
Oh, that would give it away. “No, not Feathers. I’m Violet, remember? And I’m young, young enough to go to school.”
Houston grinned up at her. “Even with the bullies, this is better than the orphans’ home. You think they’ll ever come looking for us?”
She saw the worry on all four faces. “I’m an orphan myself and no one’s come looking for me, so I think the orphanage has forgotten about you. Now you all get busy with the cleaning and I’ll make some cookies. Harold, bring in some wood.”
An hour later, they had accomplished a lot of cleaning and the fireplace crackled merrily even though it was warm outside.
“I hope they’ll give me credit at the general store,” Violet said. “I’ll walk over and see. You all stay here and clean and study your lessons.” She went out the door into the May dusk and up the street to the general store. The middle-aged man behind the counter was stoop-shouldered and wore his thinning hair combed and plastered over his bald spot. “Howdy, miss.”
“Hello. Remember me from yesterday?”
He nodded and smiled. “How could I forget all them kids? I’m Herman Haskins, little lady. What can I do for you?”
“If you’ll give me credit, I’d like some flour and some coffee, please.”
He nodded. “I hear your bunch moved into the old, abandoned house.” He dipped into a barrel, weighing the flour on his scale.
“Yes, sir.”
“What a dump!” sneered a voice and she turned to see a big, freckled hombre leaning against the wall. He was almost as tall as Travis, but maybe only in his twenties. His clothes were dirty and he smelled bad.
“Now, Leroy, that ain’t polite,” scolded Mr. Haskins. “Go loiter someplace else.”
Leroy ignored him and leered at Violet. “Hello, there, you pretty thing.” He winked in a way that made her nervous.
She nodded and turned back to the counter.
“Don’t turn your back on me.” His tone was threatening.
“Now, Leroy,” said the clerk, “don’t bother the young lady. Can’t you see she’s just a kid?”
Leroy snickered. “She’s old enough.”
Violet took a deep breath and turned to face Leroy. “Did you know my daddy used to be a Texas Ranger?”
Leroy rubbed his unshaven face. “That a fact?” Then he turned and sauntered out the door.
She and Mr. Haskins watched him go.
“Watch out for Leroy,” he warned her. “The Jenkinses have a bunch of sons, but Leroy is the oldest and no good.”
“Thank you for the advice, sir.” She gave him her sweetest smile. “Now I also need a small sack of sugar and some cornmeal.”
“Your daddy got a job yet?”
“Looks like he’ll be working at the gun shop.”
The thin man nodded and measured the sugar and cornmeal out of the barrels. “I didn’t see no woman with you when you came into town.”
“She’s dead,” Violet said. “It’s just us five kids and our dad.”
“Such a pity about your ma.” The stooped man took out a handkerchief and blew his nose. “Give your dad my regards and here’s some peppermint sticks for the young’uns.”
She shook her head. “I don’t think we can afford—”
“It’s a treat,” he said. “Anything for a Texas Ranger. They been defending this state for sixty years against bandits and wild Injuns.”
“Thank you, sir.” She took her purchases and the candy, and went out the door. In the distance, she heard the northbound train whistle as it approached the town. Violet looked up and down the street for Leroy Jenkins, but he had disappeared. She took a deep breath of relief and walked down the dusty street toward home as the train rumbled through town without stopping.
She wasn’t really afraid of Leroy, having handled many a drunk or an angry cowboy in her time. There was only one thing that worried Violet: running into someone from her past. Kansas was a long way away, she reassured herself, so that wasn’t likely.
She went back to the house. All the kids were doing their homework as she put away her purchases. Then Travis walked in.
Without thinking, she ran to meet him and threw her arms around his neck. “I’m so glad to see you.”
He was big and muscular, and she wanted to kiss him. Then she remembered that she was supposed to be a child. She stepped back and noted he looked uncomfortable. “I mean, we all are glad to see you.”
The children gathered around Travis and he picked up Bonnie while Growler danced around his legs and barked. “Well, kids, how was the first day of school?”
The kids all looked at each other.
“Just fine,” Violet said. “It’s a good school.”
“That old, skinny teacher told Violet to give you her regards,” Kessie said.
“Oh, she did, did she?” He took off his Stetson and headed into the parlor. “She seemed like a nice lady.”
Violet followed him into the room and took his hat. “The other kids call her ‘Bones’ Brewster behind her back.”
He grinned. “That’s not nice.”
She hung his hat on the wall rack near the door, where his holster and Colt also hung, and looked at him. “You couldn’t possibly be interested in an old pile of bones like her, could you?”
“Interested how?” He looked at her.
She felt flustered. “I mean, to call on.”
“You mean like a sweetheart?” He threw back his head and laughed. “Not hardly. What even gave you that idea?”
Violet heaved a sigh of relief. “I only thought we all might be so much trouble you’d think about a wife.”
“We’re managing all right without a woman, aren’t we? Now what about some dinner?”
“I was just about to start dinner.”
As she turned to go to the kitchen, there was a knock at the door. Violet went to open it. A thin, homely woman in her thirties stood there with a covered basket. “Is Mr. Prescott home?”
“Can I help you?” Violet asked.
“Well, no, honey, I really want to see your father.”
Violet managed not to slam the door in her face. She went into the parlor, where Travis sat with Bonnie in his lap and the children had all gathered around him. “There’s a lady at the door for you.”
“Oh?” He got up, put Bonnie down and came to the front door. Violet followed him.
“Hello.”
The woman smiled at him. She had a big nose and warts on her face. “Mr. Prescott? Word’s out all over town that you’ve just moved in, so I brought some food for your dear kiddies. I’m Miss Knowlen, the town librarian.” She handed him the basket, leaning toward him.
“Why, thank you, Miss Knowlen, it’s so kind of you.”
Violet said, “I was already fixing dinner.”
The homely woman reached out and patted her shoulder. “And now, dear, you won’t have to. May I say, Mr. Prescott, that it’s very brave of you to try to raise children all by yourself? Mr. Haskins at the general store told me about you.”
Violet said, “How nice of him to be concerned.”
Miss Knowlen ignored her and kept her attention on Travis. “Being single myself, just me and my five cats, I know how lonely you must be. If there’s anything I can do, just come to the library.”
Travis grinned at the woman. “Why, thank you kindly, ma’am. I’m sure we’ll be in the library a lot, studying.”
Violet said, “Yes, we will. Now you probably want to get home before it gets completely dark—”
“Oh, I’m not afraid.” The librarian was smiling up at Travis.
He said again, “Thank you so much for the food, ma’am.”
“Miss Knowlen,” the woman repeated. “Lavinia Knowlen. Remember I’m at the library any time you want to check out a book.”
“Thank you, we’ll remember, good-bye,” said Violet and managed to shut the door.
“That wasn’t polite,” Travis said. “Why, I do believe she would have come in and eaten supper with us.”
“I’m sure she would have, if we’d asked her,” Violet said and took the basket. “Every old maid in town must know by now that a new man is here and you’re single.”
He laughed. “And they’ll be saying my oldest daughter is quite rude. I’d think you’d be pleased to have women offering to take some of the load off you. It’s a lot for a young girl.”
“I don’t mind,” she said over her shoulder as she went to the kitchen. “We don’t need anyone else, do we, kids?”
“No!” yelled all the kids in unison.
“Don’t worry,” Travis said, following her into the kitchen. “She’d have to be something special for me to court her and pretty as a new colt.”
“Now let’s see what our eager librarian brought,” Violet said and opened the basket.
“Maybe she cooks better than you do,” Travis said with a grin.
“You don’t like my cooking?” She felt hurt and vulnerable. Cooking was not her strong point.
“I was just joking, young lady. You cook pretty good for a kid. Now let’s eat.”
The eager librarian had sent a chicken pot pie and a peach cobbler. They all sat down at the table and were just starting to eat when there was a knock at the door.
“I’ll get it.” Violet went to the door and opened it to a beautiful blond woman exquisitely dressed in light gray silk.
“Hello, dear, you must be Mr. Prescott’s oldest daughter. He’s so brave, raising all you children alone. Is he here?”
Behind her, Violet heard Travis coming from the dining room. “Why, hello, Mrs. Van Mayes.”
“Hello, I was so happy to meet you at the gun shop today.”
“Not as much as I was to meet you.” He gave her that smile that so entranced Violet. “Children, come meet Mrs. Van Mayes. I think you’ve already met the oldest of my children?”
“I’m Violet.” She didn’t smile. This woman was not only beautiful, she had money. There was an elegant open barouche out front with a liveried driver.
A nervous giggle. “So happy to meet you and the other poor, motherless children,” she cooed as the children gathered around the front door.
“Won’t you come in?” Travis asked.
“No, I just brought a basket for these poor children. It’s so brave of you to struggle along without a wife.”
“I run the house,” Violet informed her without smiling. “We make do just fine.”
“So brave.” The beautiful Mrs. Van Mayes dabbed at her blue eyes with an expensive lace handkerchief and reached to hug Violet, who stood like a stone, stiff and uncomfortable. “Well, I must be off. We’ll see each other around town.” The beautiful woman waved her handkerchief and returned to her expensive barouche with its fine black horses decked out in silver studded harness.
Violet closed the door and looked at Travis.
“She’s a widow,” he explained. “Came in for some cartridges for her ranch hands this afternoon.”
“I’ll bet the gun shop has never had so much business.” Violet shrugged. “She looks rich.”
“She says her elderly husband left her the biggest ranch in the county,” Travis answered. “You notice she’s still wearing light mourning.”
“Ha!” said Violet. “She’d marry you tomorrow.”
He started back to the kitchen with the big basket. “Well, she’s beautiful—”
“And rich,” breathed Kessie. “Did you see the jewelry she had on?”
“She could probably send you and Harold to college.” Travis smiled.
Violet was stung. “So you’ve already given her some thought?”
“Of course not,” he snapped as he opened the basket. “And anyway, the doings of adults is hardly the business of kids.”
“You’re very, very friendly to her,” Violet said.
“Texans are always friendly,” he said as he leaned over the basket and took a sniff. “Hmm, roast beef and apple cobbler.”
“Wow!” said Houston, his eyes wide. “If this keeps up, we won’t ever have to buy groceries again and Violet won’t have to cook.”
Violet now felt threatened. “I doubt Mrs. Fancy Carriage cooked this herself. She’s probably got other talents besides cooking.”
“Like what?” Kessie asked. “Is she smart, too?”
Travis laughed. “She’s beautiful, she doesn’t have to know how to cook.”
“Men!” Violet snorted and brushed past him, heading for the dining room.
Did Travis really like Mrs. Van Mayes? Violet could hardly eat all the good food the ladies had brought for thinking about it. Miss Knowlen wasn’t a threat, but the beautiful, rich widow certainly was.
As they ate, Harold said, “If any more ladies come to the door, I hope the next one brings chili and some cookies.”
Violet had a pang of jealousy. “There’s no telling how many more single ladies are liable to show up with baskets.”
“It won’t do them any good.” Travis buttered a piece of bread. “I’ve let everyone know I’m a confirmed bachelor.”
“That’s like waving a red flag at a bull,” Violet snapped. “Everyone thinks she’ll be the one to land you.”
Even me
, she thought, but she didn’t say that.
Even me
, she thought, but she didn’t say that.
“They must be short of eligible men in this town,” Travis muttered. “Usually respectable women won’t give a half-breed the time of day.”
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