Travis (16 page)

The band stopped and he walked her over to where Mrs. Van Mayes stood.

She gave Violet a condescending smile. “Travis, you dance so well with your daughter. Young lady, you must teach me that step.”

Violet didn’t smile. “I’m sure Travis would be happy to teach you.”

Now the beautiful blonde turned her face up to the tall Texan. “I hope so.”

Violet resisted the urge to kick the lady in the shins.

Both females nodded to each other. As Travis watched, he was reminded of two cats circling each other, ready to fight.

Mrs. Van Mayes said, “Violet, you’re such a brave little girl to mother all those children. It must be very difficult.”

“No, I really enjoy it,” Violet answered.

The music started again, a slow waltz, and Travis turned to the pretty blonde. “Mrs. Van Mayes, may I have the honor?”

“Of course, Travis.”

They whirled out on the dance floor, leaving Violet standing there, fuming.

Harold walked up beside her. “What are you scowling about?”

“That widow. Do you see how she’s hanging on to Travis? Why, you couldn’t get a grass blade between them.”

“He is holding her pretty close, isn’t he?”

An eager cowboy touched Travis’s shoulder and he gave up his partner, but Violet thought he looked reluctant to do so.

He came back to stand beside her. “Damn, every man in town wants her.”

Violet gritted her teeth and didn’t answer for a long moment. “Why don’t you dance with me?”

“Uh, I’m a little tired, young lady.”

“You didn’t look tired when you were dancing with Mrs. Pink Bustle.”

“Oh, all right.” She was annoyed at how much distance he kept between their two bodies as they danced. Probably he’d rather be dancing with the pretty blonde.

The night had grown dark in the summer heat with a few paper lanterns lighting the dance floor. Violet tried to snuggle up close to him as the band played “Genevieve, Sweet Genevieve.”

He appeared startled as she put her body close to his and for a moment, he held her very close and she heard his breath quicken. His body became tense and she snuggled even closer.

At that moment, he took a deep breath and pushed her so that there was distance between them—so much that a horse could have walked between them. She looked up into his eyes and licked her lips, then parted them and fluttered her eyelashes very slowly.

She saw the sudden hot desire in his dark eyes and knew that he wanted her. She wanted him in a way she’d never known a woman could want a man.

“Damn it all to hell,” he muttered and stopped dancing abruptly, took her hand and headed for the sidelines.

“What’s the matter?” she asked innocently.

“Nothing a young girl would understand,” he snapped. “Anyway, I need a beer.” He handed her over to Harold. “Here, dance with your sister.”

“I don’t want to dance with him, I want to dance with you,” Violet declared.

“No, you don’t. It might lead to trouble.”

“I don’t want to dance,” Harold complained, but Travis had already headed over to the beer booth.

Violet watched Charlotte Van Mayes start after Travis, but just then, Harold grabbed Violet and doggedly began pushing her around the dance floor. She could hear him counting under his breath.

“Honestly, Harold, you don’t have to dance with me,” she insisted, still trying to watch Travis. She saw him lean on the rail of the beer booth and gulp a mugful. “Gimme another!” he yelled.

About that time, Mrs. Van Mayes came up beside him and engaged him in conversation. He said something and the blonde patted his arm and laughed.

Violet sighed and stopped as Harold stepped on her foot again. “Harold, it’s getting late. Gather up the other kids and we’ll pack up the picnic stuff and go home.”

“Aw, no one wants to go home yet,” he grumbled.

“Well, there isn’t anything else gonna happen tonight except a little dancing and most of the men getting drunk.”

He looked toward the beer booth. “Including Travis?”

“Probably.”

“Why?”

She knew why. She’d seen that sudden hot desire in his eyes as he held her close and abruptly pushed her away. “It’s just something men do.”

“I’ll get the kids,” Harold said.

“And I’ll go gather up the picnic stuff,” Violet said and started walking out into the shadows toward the tables.

To be in the shade, they had set up their picnic a long way from the others and it was dark and shadowy out here under the trees. She tripped over a rock and walked on, wishing she had a lantern.

A big shape suddenly stepped out from behind a tree. “Hello, Violet.”

“Oh, Leroy, you startled me.” She took a step backward.

“Where you going?”

“To pack up our picnic stuff.”

“I’ll go with you.”

She had an uneasy feeling about this. “No need to,” she said brightly, “It’s not heavy.”

“Well, I’ll carry it.”

Way off in the distance, the music played faintly. People laughed and talked around the dance floor. She’d feel foolish screaming and even if she did, would anyone hear her? When Leroy stepped closer, she smelled liquor on his breath. She’d handled drunks for years as a saloon girl, she could certainly handle this brute.

“It’s nice of you, Leroy, but why don’t you go back to the dance? I can get the basket alone.”

“No,” he said and then he grabbed her.

Violet started to scream, but the big lout clapped his hand over her mouth and pulled her close. She tried to bite his fingers, but he slapped her, and for a moment, she felt dizzy and staggered on her feet. Now he had his arms under her legs, lifting her, carrying her toward the creek in the shadows of the underbrush.

She fought him, but she was no match for his strength.

“Stop it, you bitch!” he snarled, “I’m going to lay with you like I’ve wanted to do since the first time I saw you. If I give you a baby, your pa will make you marry me and I’ll have you for good and all.”

She writhed in his arms, but he held her tightly and stuffed a dirty rag in her mouth. Violet managed to get one arm free and scratched his face, but he only laughed. “You’re a little wildcat, ain’t you? I think I like that. Now if you don’t stop fighting me, I’ll have to knock you out ’cause I intend to have you.”

She could smell the reek of whiskey on his breath and knew he was very drunk. Oh, Lord, why hadn’t she seen him as more of a threat? Now she was going to be raped and maybe murdered.

Think, Violet, think.
Abruptly she went limp in his arms.

“Did you faint? Are you okay, bitch?” He paused and laid her down on the grass near the creek.

When she felt his hot hands leave her, she came alive suddenly, fighting and jumping to her feet. She gave him a hard kick to the groin. He swore and doubled over in pain.

I’m free
, she thought, but even as she tried to run, he caught her by the ankle.

“No, you don’t, you little tart!” He reached out with one big paw and caught the front of her dress, tearing it and pulling her back down on the grass.

She yanked the dirty rag out of her mouth and bit his hand as hard as she could and he slapped her until she saw stars.
Just relax and let him do it
, her brain told her.
Otherwise, he may kill you. It isn’t as if you’ve never had a man before.

No, the only man who would ever have her body again was Travis. She had vowed that and she’d go down fighting rather than be raped.

“What the hell’s going on here?” Abruptly a big shadow stood over them.

For a split second, she thought Leroy had a partner, but then she recognized Travis’s deep drawl and he reached down, grabbed Leroy by the collar, yanked him to his feet and slammed him against a tree.

She was crying with relief, hunched up in a small ball while Travis and Leroy fought. She couldn’t seem to find the strength to get up and run.

Suddenly Harold, Houston and even Kessie, Bonnie and Growler were there.

“Bite him!” Little Bonnie yelled and the spotted dog charged in barking, attacking Leroy’s legs as Travis hit him hard in the jaw with his left hand. Leroy fell backward and then stumbled to his feet and fled.

“I didn’t mean nothin’!” he yelled back. “I wasn’t gonna hurt her!”

Travis yelled after him. “You get the hell out of town or I’ll kill you!”

Violet scrambled to her feet as Travis leaned against a tree, breathing heavily. “Thank God you came!”

“Are you all right?” Travis asked. “Harold saw him dragging you away and came for me.”

She couldn’t stop the tears. “I—I’m fine. My dress is torn a little, is all.”

He bent over and picked her up in his strong arms. “I can buy you another dress.”

She leaned her face against his wide shoulder. He swayed a little as he started walking in long strides. He was a little drunk, she thought, but oh, she was so glad to be safe in his arms.

“You kids gather up the picnic stuff and keep your mouths shut about all this, you hear?” Travis commanded. “If it got out, it might ruin Violet’s reputation; people are funny about stuff like this.”

She had no reputation to save, but of course he didn’t know that. Violet felt guilty as she closed her eyes and relaxed, just happy to be in his embrace.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” His warm breath smelled of liquor, but she didn’t care.

“As long as you’ve got me, I’m fine,” she whispered.

“Let’s go, kids,” he ordered.

They started away from the picnic area, Travis carrying her easily. From here she could see that the party had broken up except for a few men still hanging around the beer booth singing and talking.

He carried her through the shadows of the trees so that no one could see them as they returned to the house. Travis took her inside and stood a moment. “Houston, light a lamp and you kids get ready for bed.”

Houston lit a lamp and in that small glow, Travis carried her in and laid her on her bed. He stood there in the semidarkness looking down at her and she realized that her dress was torn so that it revealed a little of one of her breasts. She hurried to cover it up.

His craggy face looked troubled and confused as he stared and she felt the tension in that gaze. He looked hungry, hungry like a man who has gone without food a long, long time. Would he now make love to her? She looked up at him expectantly, waiting, wanting him as she had never wanted a man.

Instead, he cursed and left her bedroom, slamming the door. She heard his thundering voice to the children. “You kids go to bed. I’ll be home after while.” He sounded angry.

She heard him go out the front door, slamming it behind him.

Violet got up and hurried to the window. He was a little drunk, all right. She watched him stagger back to the party and get himself another beer. Some of the drunks had gathered and were singing “Jeannie With the Light Brown Hair.” Travis joined them.

In disgust, Violet put on a nightdress, tiptoed in to check on all the children. They were all asleep. She was tired, too. It had been a long day and she’d been roughed up and terrified by Leroy. She doubted that man would stay in town; he’d be too afraid of Travis.

She went to bed, but she could not sleep. In her mind, she saw Travis as he had been just now, looming over her again, all hot, aroused male, eager to take her. She had yearned for him to reach down, grab her and pull her to him, but of course he had not.

Violet lay there, restless and listening for him to return. Judging from the off-key singing out on the street, he’d be even more drunk when he got home. She turned over and fluffed her pillow, trying in vain to stop thinking of him, yet imagining what it would be like to have him naked and virile next to her, making passionate love to her on this hot June night. However, as a Texan, he was not about to despoil what he thought was an innocent, underage virgin.

“What a mess you have made of things and now there’s no way out,” she scolded herself.

Finally she could stand the waiting no longer. She got up, went to the window and peered out into the darkness. The wooden dance floor area and the picnic tables were shadowy and forlorn, but down the street, the saloon was brightly lit and music and women’s laughter drifted through its swinging doors. The men who had been on the street were gone. Some of them would have gone home; others might be continuing their celebration in the saloon.

Had Travis gone in there? Was he even now upstairs, venting his hot desire on one of those scantily dressed whores? The thought made her grit her teeth. He was hers and she knew he wanted her, knew it from the way he had stared down at her as she lay in her bed looking up at him.

Jealousy began like a sharp-toothed coyote chewing on her insides. She had to know. Violet got up and dressed in her plain yellow dress and combed her hair into two pigtails. She tiptoed through the house, checking on the children.

Growler, asleep on Bonnie’s little bed, raised his grizzled head and snarled, then recognized her and his stubby tail thumped.

“Be quiet, Growler,” she whispered. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

Carrying her shoes to the door, she went outside before she put them on. The noise and music from the saloon was even louder now. Evidently, the beer and liquor were flowing freely. Well, the party was going to continue with one less man. She intended to bring Travis home.

 

 

Inside the saloon, Travis leaned on the bar and stared down at the voluptuous, red-haired woman looking up at him. “And what’s your name, sugar?”

She looked up at him, rubbing her full breasts against his arm. “Sugar will do for now, big man, but my name is Kate.”

God, he needed a woman. He managed to focus his eyes and take a good look at the whore. She was past her prime and deep wrinkles were only slightly hidden under the heavy makeup. Her hennaed hair had a few gray strands showing under the bright green feathered plume. What did he care? He could close his eyes and imagine it was . . .
You sick bastard, don’t you even think of Violet that way.

He put out his hand and stroked Kate’s bare shoulder and then trailed his finger down her collarbone to the rise of big breasts in the gaudy green satin dress. “Can I buy you a drink, sugar?”

“You sure can and then let’s go upstairs to my room.”

He was having a hard time keeping his gaze straight. The room tried to spin a little when he closed his eyes. “What’s that gonna cost me?”

“I hear you used to be a Texas Ranger, big man.” She took his hand and put it on her waist.

He nodded. “I did, but I got hurt.”

She leaned against him. “I hope it wasn’t your pistol that got injured.”

He laughed. “No, my arm. My pistol is loaded and ready to fire.”

She reached up and kissed his cheek. “For a man like you, the first one is free. I’ll wager you’re good for a dozen times a night?”

“Maybe only a half dozen, before I have to rest and reload,” he confessed. He took a deep breath of her perfume. It was cheap, but earthy, like a bitch in heat. That made him think of Violet, who always smelled like soap and water, and the sweet scent of her long brown hair.

Violet. He remembered standing there, half drunk, looking down at her as she lay on her bed. He had never wanted a woman as much as he had wanted that girl.

You rotten bum
, he scolded himself.
It took everything in you to walk out of that bedroom when what you wanted to do was take her quick and deep and fast, making her yours in the most intimate way a man can know a woman.
And she was just a kid. His want for her had begun to occupy his every waking moment and this evening, he had almost given in to temptation. Well, he was a Texan and a gentleman. He wasn’t about to force himself on an innocent, underage girl.

Even as he looked down into Kate’s painted face, he knew what the answer had to be: take out his lust on a whore or marry the pretty Mrs. Van Mayes. He couldn’t live with his desire much longer. Thinking that, he reached down and kissed the whore’s painted lips. The tip of her tongue reached into his mouth and he put his hand on her breasts and she only leaned closer, breathing hard.

“Not right here, Kate!” the balding bartender yelled. “Take your cowboy upstairs.”

Kate broke away and laughed. “That’s just what I intend to do. You ready, Ranger?”

“I’m past ready.” He nodded and staggered away from the bar. She held on to his arm to steady him as they started toward the stairs.

Kate looked up as they started up the stairs. The other whores leaned over the upstairs balcony, watching, and one called, “You get through with him, Kate, I’d like a ride.”

“Naw, he’s mine for tonight,” Kate answered.

His vision was a little blurry, but he felt his manhood throbbing hard. He might be a little drunk, but the part he needed most was ready and willing. He looked back at the other men lounging against the bar and then up at the girls leaning on the balcony railing upstairs. Yep, there was enough of them that he could have a different one every night if he wanted. He reached down and kissed the redhead, but in his mind, the face he saw had large, almost violet eyes and was surrounded by soft brown curls. That made him angry. How dare Violet keep invading his thoughts? “Let’s quit wasting time,” he whispered. “It’s been awhile since I’ve ridden an unbroken filly.”

“Sugar, I expect you to give me quite a ride.” She steered him carefully up the stairs with the piano banging away below on “My Old Kentucky Home.”

Just as they started into Kate’s room, the piano abruptly stopped mid-chord.

“What the hell?” Kate paused in her doorway as Travis grabbed on to the door frame to keep from falling.

He stumbled to the railing and looked down, tried to focus his eyes and see where everyone else was staring. In the swinging doors stood a small, slight figure. She wore a simple yellow dress and her brown hair was in pigtails.

“Daddy,” she called. staring up at him, “I’ve come to take you home.”

Men were laughing now. “Hey, Prescott, your little girl has come for you. You better forget about gettin’ a little tonight.”

He looked down at her, thinking he had never felt so humiliated. “Go on home, kid. I’ll be home when I get damned good and ready.”

“No, you got to come home now.”

Behind him, Kate swore and stepped back in the shadows of the balcony so the girl could not see her.

Even as men laughed and Travis argued, Violet walked to the foot of the stairs and said to the astounded piano player, “There’s five of us kids and he needs to come home. He has no spare money to spend here.” Then she started up the stairs.

 

 

Kate retreated behind a pillar of the upstairs balcony, thinking she recognized the girl in the simple country dress. No, it couldn’t be. She stepped back into her room, a little shocked and thinking she must be drunk herself. This pigtailed kid couldn’t be who she thought it was.

The young girl never saw Kate as she came up the stairs, took the Ranger by the arm. “Come on, Daddy, let’s go home.”

“No,” he said and shook his head, but the girl was persistent.

“Please, Travis,” she whispered and led him to the stairs. They started down them, slowly and unsteadily.