Travis (20 page)

After a long moment, he shrugged and walked down the hall, pausing at Violet’s door. He knocked gently. “Violet?”

No answer. He opened the door and peeked in. She lay on her back with her brown hair loose around her shoulders, a blue nightgown against the white sheets. The moonlight revealed dried tears on her cheeks and he felt like a villain because he had made her cry. Her mouth looked so soft and innocent with no paint smeared on it.

He sighed as he closed the door and went to his room. The window was open in the warm June night and the sounds of the saloon drifted in. He walked over and closed the window, blew out the oil lamp. He stripped down to his drawers and got into bed. Now his manhood came up hard and throbbing. “Damn you,” he cursed it. “Why didn’t you act like that when I was ready to take a hot ride on Kate?”

His mind went to Violet again, lying there asleep in her blue nightgown and he knew he wanted her as a man wants a woman. “You’re a sick, twisted bastard,” he whispered to himself.
She’s just an innocent kid . . . or is she?
He wished he knew for certain. What he was thinking could get him lynched by indignant locals, and then who would look after the kids?

Still it was a long time before he dropped off to sleep and when he did, the woman he dreamed of was the innocent young Violet.

 

 

He got up early, before anyone else, and made coffee, relieved not to face Violet. Then he left her a note:

Then he went down to the gun shop and opened up. It was going to be a busy day, men coming in for ammunition or to buy new weapons. The shooting match at the July Fourth celebration was something all the men wanted to win, and that was only a few days away now.

 

 

Violet was relieved when she got up to fix breakfast and discovered Travis was already gone. She furrowed her brow as she read his note. If there was one thing in the world she didn’t want to do, it was go to the rich widow’s for supper. The beauty was determined to have Travis; anyone could see that. She had plenty of money to look after the kids, and this situation between Violet and Travis was getting tense and awkward. She wanted to go into his arms, kiss him, make love to him, and he thought of her as a gawky kid. Maybe he would marry the rich widow and the kids would be looked after. Then Violet could just disappear. She wasn’t certain where she would go or what she would do, but it didn’t matter as long as Travis was happy and the kids were cared for.

She heard the kids rising and began making oatmeal and frying bacon. She had not slept well last night thinking of Travis at the saloon, no doubt in the arms of one of the whores. Well, what did she expect? He was a man, after all, and a virile one. He needed a woman in his bed. Violet realized that she wanted to be that woman. She was in love with Travis and he was taking his passion to other women. Maybe some night Violet just needed to climb into bed with him and deal with the consequences later.

Little Bonnie and the dog came into the kitchen, Bonnie still rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “You mad at Travis?”

“Uh, let’s not talk about that. Here, sit down and I’ll give you some breakfast.” She felt Bonnie’s drawers and sighed, wondering if she had gone to bed wet.

All the others were now piling into the kitchen.

Harold looked up at her with those almond eyes. “You still mad at Travis?”

“Why does everyone ask that?” she snapped. “It doesn’t concern you kids.”

Kessie picked up her bowl and spoon. “When you’re mad at Travis, this isn’t a happy house and we all worry.”

Violet looked down at Kessie’s fingers. Her nails were chewed to the quick. “I’m sorry,” Violet answered. “Now you all eat and help me clean up.”

“Don’t forget we’re going to Mrs. Van Mayes’s for supper,” Houston said, his mouth full of oatmeal.

“As if I could forget. I hope you all use your best manners or she’ll think we were all raised in a barn.”

“I hear she’s got a big house,” Kessie said, “bigger and finer than this one.”

Violet poured herself a cup of coffee. “I reckon it would be a very nice life for everyone to live at her ranch.”

Houston stared at her. “You don’t look very happy about it.”

“Who, me?” She managed to smile. “Why wouldn’t I want to live in her big, fine house?”

“Does that mean Travis would marry her?” Kessie asked.

Violet winced. “I reckon so.”

Bonnie shook her head. She had oatmeal all over her face. “Want Travis marry Violet.”

“That’s not going to happen,” Violet answered and got up quickly so the children wouldn’t see her face. “Now you all finish up and we’ll clean house some and then you can go outside and play—except you, Bonnie. I’ve got to give you a bath and wash your drawers.” She got up and went into the kitchen, pretending to be very busy putting away things so she wouldn’t have to discuss this with the children anymore. Yes, marrying the widow would give Travis a rich, pretty wife and a big ranch and a secure home for the children. Then why couldn’t she stop herself from weeping?

 

 

She hated to spend the money, but she went to the dry goods store and bought everyone new clothes, including extra drawers for Bonnie and a cheap blue dress for herself.

The lady behind the counter had a pencil stuck behind one ear as she peered at Violet over her glasses. “Going someplace special, honey?”

“To Mrs. Van Mayes’s house for dinner.”

“My, my.” The lady’s eyes widened as she took the pencil out to write the ticket. “Hardly anyone gets invited to that rich Yankee’s house.”

“Yes, we’re so thrilled,” Violet said without enthusiasm as she took the package and left.

 

 

Evening came all too soon for Violet. She had the children all dressed and was putting Bonnie’s hair in pigtails like her own when Travis came through the door.

“You still mad at me?” He grinned at her.

How could she be mad at him? She wanted to rush into his arms and kiss him, but of course she didn’t. “I’m fine.” She managed to keep her voice even. “You wash up and I’ll get dressed.”

He nodded. “Oh, by the way, we don’t have to walk. She sent her butler to say she’d send her barouche to pick us up.”

“What’s that?” Houston asked.

“Silly,” Kessie said. “Don’t you know anything? It’s a fancy open carriage. Rich people own them.”

Violet managed to smile. “Won’t that be a fun ride?”

Travis grabbed a towel and went out in the backyard to wash up. Violet stood at the window a long moment, watching him peel off his shirt and bend over the wash basin. Muscles rippled under his dark skin as he washed. He was all man and she had never wanted a man as much as she wanted this one.

Harold walked through the room. “What you looking at?”

“Nothing. I was just getting ready to go.” She went into her room and closed the door, leaning against it, feeling the flush on her face. At least Travis hadn’t seen her watching him.

She put on the new blue dress and combed her brown hair into pigtails. If she left it down, she’d look older and she wasn’t sure that Mrs. Van Mayes hadn’t already guessed her secret.

At six thirty, everyone was assembled in the parlor, all combed and shiny. Violet said they should leave the dog at home because the rich widow might not like Growler on her fine carpets, and even though Bonnie threw a tantrum, the dog got closed in Bonnie’s bedroom. Then there was a knock at the door and when Travis opened it, a snooty driver stood there.

“Mrs. Van Mayes sends her compliments and her barouche if you are ready.”

“I reckon we are.” Travis grinned and they all trooped out to the fancy open carriage. It had red leather seats and lots of shiny brass with two fine black horses to pull it.

“Oh, my,” Violet breathed. “I never saw anything so fine.”

Travis lifted each child up into the barouche and then he turned to Violet. “You ready?”

She nodded and he put his big hands on her small waist and lifted her. For a split second, she looked down into his face and he stared up at her, as if puzzled; then he sat her inside on the red leather seat and got in himself, sitting next to her. She could feel the heat of his muscular thigh through the thin blue fabric.

Travis nodded to the driver. “We’re ready, my man.”

The driver snapped his little whip and the fine black horses started off at a smart clip.

“Boy, this is the life,” Houston said. “This must be the best carriage in Texas.”

“I’ll bet it is,” Harold agreed.

Kessie looked around. “Wouldn’t it be nice to ride like this all the time?”

“I want my dog,” Bonnie sobbed.

Travis patted her shoulder. “He’ll be all right until we get home and you can bring him some food, okay?”

That seemed to comfort her and she climbed into his lap so she could see the passing scenery.

In twenty minutes, they were driving up the circular drive to Mrs. Van Mayes’s fine Victorian-style home. It had turrets and stained-glass windows and at least three stories.

“This must be the biggest house in Texas,” Kessie said.

Houston looked around open-mouthed. “Wonder how much land she owns.”

Travis frowned at him. “In Texas, it ain’t polite to ask how much land or how many cattle someone owns.”

The mustached driver looked back over his shoulder and smiled. “I believe the lady owns some ten thousand acres and several hundred thousand cows.”

Even Travis took a deep breath at that.

As they got out of the barouche, Violet said, “Now, everyone remember to be on your best behavior.”

Travis smiled at her. “It’s nice of you to help the kids make a good impression on the lady.”

“Of course.” She forced herself to smile back although her heart was breaking. Here she would have to pretend to be a young girl while the pretty widow went after Travis, and of course that was why she had invited them all to dinner. Violet had seen the way the woman looked the Ranger over. She wanted him all right, and besides being rich, she was beautiful. What else could a man want?

They went up the steps and rang the bell at the massive leaded glass door as the driver took the barouche away to the stables.

After a moment, a dour butler answered the door and bowed. “Mrs. Van Mayes is awaiting you in the library, sir. I’ll announce you.”

They all stood in the fancy entry hall, staring in wonder as the butler disappeared and then returned. “Follow me, please.”

Violet had never seen anything like this place. There were fine carpets, giant chandeliers, and big, carved dark furniture. They followed the butler into the library, where Mrs. Van Mayes, dressed in pale lavender, stood up and held out her hands to Travis. Her dress was cut daringly low, showing a full curved bosom. “Ah, so glad you and the children could come.”

“Good of you to invite us. Kids, say howdy.”

Violet and the elegant lady locked eyes and the widow’s glare was as cold as marble. Violet curtseyed to her as a well-bred young lady should do, and the other girls did the same. The boys bowed low. “Evening, ma’am.”

“Such nice children.” Mrs. Van Mayes sat down and patted the cushion on the settee next to her. “You must sit and tell me how you are managing, Mr. Prescott.”

He sat down next to her. “Just call me Travis, ma’am.”

“Of course and you must call me Charlotte. Would you like a drink?”

“Well, ma’am, I reckon so.” He ran his finger around his collar, evidently nervous.

“I’ll ring for the butler.” She got up, went to the wall and pulled a velvet rope. The dour, portly man came in promptly. “Jarvis, bring me some sherry and break open a bottle of my finest bourbon for Mr. Prescott.”

“Very well, madam. And what about the children?” He peered down his long nose at them.

“Take the young lady and the others to the billiard room and get them some sarsaparilla.” She dismissed all the children with a nod.

Violet took a deep breath. “I’d just as soon stay here.”

Travis frowned at her and the beautiful widow gave her a murderous glare as she spoke. “No, dear, be a good girl and run along so the adults can visit.”

There was nothing else she could do but follow the children to the billiard room. In minutes, the butler brought them bottles of sarsaparilla. She decided it was too far down the hall to eavesdrop.

“How do we play this?” Houston asked.

“I reckon you hit the ball with the tip of that stick and try to knock it in those holes in the corners of the table.”

Bonnie pouted. “Feathers, me can’t reach and I miss doggie.”

Violet sighed. “I’ll hold you up so you can try to hit the ball.” She lifted the toddler and showed her how to hold the stick. The children were soon engrossed with the game.

Violet fidgeted, wondering what was going on in the library, but there was no way to know. She could only imagine how the forward widow was coming on to Travis. She tried not to be jealous; after all, this would be a great life for Travis and the children. Darn it, Violet loved him and even thinking about him making love to Charlotte Van Mayes made her grit her teeth.

In a few minutes, the butler came back to the billiard room and bowed low. “Miss, Mrs. Van Mayes is ready for dinner. Please bring the rest of the children and follow me.”

Violet nodded. “Come on, kids. It’s time to eat.”

Dutifully they followed the butler into the biggest dining room Violet had ever seen. The dark, carved table looked like it would seat at least a dozen people and there was fine china and silver reflecting the chandelier’s candle glow.

The lady waited for Travis to seat her and then he walked down to the other end of the table and took a chair.