Travis (26 page)

She felt sorry for him, but she couldn’t help him. She couldn’t even help herself. She was sorry now that she had told where Violet was. The girl didn’t deserve that. What was Kate to do now? She had used up her money getting to Red Rock in the vain hope that Duke might be grateful enough to take her back. She might have known he had no heart. He would do Violet the same way he had done her: use her until she was too old or bored him, then toss her aside.

She had had more to drink than she realized, she thought as she wobbled and started across the street. Maybe she could figure out a way to get back to Maine. There had been a farm boy there once who loved her. Maybe he loved her still. She kept that thought as she wandered out into the dusty street, smiling at the thought and ignoring the sudden screams of warning.

Too late, she looked up to see the galloping wagon loaded with liquor kegs coming toward her. She tried to get out of the way, threw up her hand to protect her face as the team struck her.
How ironic
, she thought as she went down.
How ironic, a liquor wagon.

Then she was just a dusty, bloody bundle of dark fabric, red hair and broken flesh in the middle of the street in front of the saloon.

 

 

Duke looked up from the card table in annoyance. “Slade, see what the noise is outside.”

The gunfighter walked through the swinging doors, returned, shrugging. “Nothing much, Boss. That slut that was in your office a few minutes ago wandered out and got run down by a wagon.”

Duke yawned. “Is that all? I always knew she’d come to no good end. Oh, Slade, go see about getting us tickets. We’ll go to Pleasant Valley for the Fourth of July.”

“Boss, you know there’s a reward for us in Texas—”

“We’ll be in and out of that town before the law knows we’re there. Someone has taken something that belongs to me and I want her back. You understand?”

“Sure, Boss. I’ll take care of it.”

“Then tell Frenchie we’ll be taking that train south. We should be back that night.”

“Sure, Boss.”

“In the meantime, that new girl from Iowa, she’s pretty good. I’ll be up there in her room if you need me.”

 

 

It was a sultry night as Violet stood on the front porch, leaning against a pillar. She was taking one last look before she left. Her little valise was at her feet. Things couldn’t go on as they were, and maybe it was better for everyone if she left. By the time everyone woke in the morning and realized she was gone, she’d be miles down the road, or maybe even farther if she was lucky enough to catch a ride on a wagon.

She heard the screen door behind her open, but she didn’t look back. She mustn’t let this interruption interfere with her plans.

Travis said, “The kids all in bed?”

She nodded. “Took a real battle to get them there.”

“Don’t blame ’em.” He came up behind her so close, she could smell the scent of him and feel the warmth of his big body. “After all, tomorrow’s the Fourth and that’s exciting—f irecrackers, the picnic, the parade and all.”

She hesitated. “Is Conchita asleep, too?”

“Yes.” He chuckled. “I waited until I saw her light go out after I heard your footsteps.” A pause. “What is this? A carpetbag?”

“I—I didn’t mean for you to know until tomorrow. I left a note on the mantel.”

“To tell me what?” He put his hands on her shoulders.

“After all my lies, and the mess I’ve made, I thought I’d move on.”

“Move on?” He sounded genuinely alarmed.

“Well, after I’ve lied to you about my age and you can’t seem to forgive me—”

“I can’t help it, Violet. I don’t trust you now.”

She swallowed hard. If he only knew the rest . . .

“I’m a proud man, Violet, I can’t help that. If the whole town finds out they’ll laugh at me again as they did the time . . .” His voice trailed off. “It’s bad enough to be a half-breed, but when the sweet girl I was gonna marry, Emily, ran off with a gambler the night before the wedding, it was more than I could take.”

She blinked back tears. “That’s the reason I’m leaving. I don’t want you to be ridiculed.”

His big hands pulled her closer. “What about the kids? What will I tell them?”

She closed her eyes, enjoying the warmth and the strength of him standing so close. “Well, you can keep Conchita or marry Charlotte—”

“It won’t be the same.” His voice was gruff and his fingers tightened on her shoulders.

She waited a long moment, waiting for him to say he loved her, that he wanted her to stay. Nothing.

“We can’t go on like this,” she said and tried to step away from him, but the porch balusters were in her way. “If I stay, sooner or later someone will find out my real age and then there’ll be trouble.”

“I reckon I’ve let my pride get in my way too many times, but I don’t have much else. I can’t even be a Ranger anymore.”

She turned in his arms, looking up at him, and saw the tears shining in his dark eyes. “What is it?”

“I’ve never told anyone, but a year or so after she ran away with that gambler, Emily returned one night and begged me to take her back.”

“And you were too proud?”

He nodded. “That bastard had turned her into a whore and that was all I could think of—other men kissing her, taking her. I told her to get the hell out of my life and go back to the gambler.”

“Oh, Travis, I’m so sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” He laughed without mirth. “Never a day goes by that I don’t think of her and my pigheaded pride.”

“What happened to her?”

“One of the local cowboys said he saw her working in the lowest crib on the Galveston waterfront. Later we heard she had drank herself to death.”

He seemed to be in such pain that she reached up and kissed his mouth gently and he clung to her.

Now he stared down at her, his dark eyes intense. “We could go away. Maybe we could go back to my hometown. You could look after the kids and I could find some kind of job, I don’t know what.”

She looked up at him, loving him so much, but his pride stood between them. “You wouldn’t be happy doing that, Travis. You’d only be happy as a Ranger or working your own spread. And I’m only adding to your problems. No.” She shook her head. “It’ll be better if I go.”

“Damn it, can’t you at least wait until after the Fourth? The kids are looking forward to it; don’t ruin it for them. They’re all so happy.”

“I know.” She felt herself wavering. “Kessie has stopped chewing her nails and Bonnie has stopped wetting her drawers, but I—I don’t know—”

“You’re stubborn.” His face was set, angry. “Where will you go? What will you do?”

“I’ll manage somehow.” She tried to hold the tears back, but one escaped and ran down her cheek.

He pulled her to him, enveloped her in the embrace of his big arms. “If you do that, I’ll worry all the time about you. I’d never get a night’s sleep.”

And she dared say it. “Because of Emily?”

“Damn it, maybe, but you’re different; I care more about you than I did her. I can’t bear to have you leave us.” And his mouth came down on hers, eager, warm, possessive.

She knew she shouldn’t succumb. It wouldn’t help anything, but she couldn’t help herself. She returned his kiss with all the fire and ardor she had given no other man. They clung together, kissing furiously until his lips went down her cheek, kissing away the tears and pausing gently on her throat. “I can’t help it, Violet. I can’t do without you. I’ll give my notice at the gun shop and we’ll leave town, get married, make a fresh start where nobody knows us.”

She clung to him, wanting him, wanting to think this could possibly happen as his hand tangled in her hair and pulled her face to him where he kissed her deeply, hotly.

She returned his kisses, knowing this night was all there was for her. She must not take the risk that this proud man would ever find out she’d once been a saloon whore. She could only imagine his fury and his hatred if that happened, and sooner or later, it would. Someone from her past would recognize her and Travis’s heart would close to her.

But she would have tonight. She would not think past this sultry darkness and the holiday tomorrow. She would have the memories to last her the rest of her life. She looked up into his dark, intense face. “Make love to me, Travis. Make love to me as I have dreamed you would do.”

He hesitated. “Are you sure? A girl can only give away her virginity once and I don’t want you to have any regrets.”

Regrets? She had a thousand of them. She couldn’t even remember the first time she had traded her body for food on the wharves at Memphis so she and her little brother, Tommy, could survive.

“I’m sure,” she whispered. “I want to experience love in your arms, my darling.”

He picked her up, turned toward the door. “We might wake up the kids, or even worse, Charlotte’s housekeeper.”

She kissed the side of his neck. It tasted salty and suntanned. “Then take me out to the barn.”

“God, I want you like I’ve never wanted a woman,” he murmured as he turned and carried her off the porch, around the house and into the barn.

The barn smelled of hay. The cow mooed and Mouse snorted a welcome. The moonlight filtered through the open barn door as Travis lay her on a pile of soft straw and stood over her. “Are you still sure, Violet?”

“I am very, very sure.” She held out her arms.

He came down on her, still wearing his jeans, and she could feel the heat of his big, throbbing manhood.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he gasped. “Sometimes the first time—”

“I’ll be all right,” she assured him and pulled her skirt up so that his big hand could stroke her thighs.

She unbuttoned her bodice and he hesitated, then bent his head to kiss her breasts. “God, I want you,” he gasped.

“I love you, Travis,” she answered and returned his kiss. She wished he had said he loved her, but he only wanted her as a hundred other men had. Tomorrow would be a different story, but she still had tonight. She reached to unbutton his jeans and put her hand on his hot manhood.

He groaned aloud and kissed her breasts again. “I never needed a woman like I need you now, Violet.”

“And I need you, too,” she whispered and fought back the tears because she loved him so.

His big hands stroked her thighs until they trembled and she kissed the hollow of his throat. “Make love to me, Travis,” she said.

“I can do that,” he gasped, “but first I want to kiss you and caress you as I have at night in my dreams.” And he kissed her breasts feverishly as she spread her legs and he came between them.

His manhood was hot and throbbing, she could feel it against her thigh and she reached to guide him into position. “Take me, darling,” she whispered. “Make me yours.”

He came up on his elbows, hesitated and then came into her very slowly while her body reacted, wanting him so much. He had one hand around her, embracing her, and the other under her small hips as he began to ride her.

He was a strong stallion of a man, there was no doubt about that. She’d had none bigger, but she loved this one with her whole heart and that made all the difference.

He began to ride her rhythmically while she wrapped her legs around his muscular body, holding him to her. She had never had sex like this and she expected she never would again. It was so different when you loved the man, really loved him.

His motion excited her and she felt her own need rise as they moved together.

“I want you, Violet,” he gasped.

“And I love you, Travis,” she answered as her excitement built.

Then he reached that pinnacle of desire and at the same time he clung to her, giving up his seed, something happened that had never happened before. Her own need built until it exploded, and she grabbed on to his body, convulsing as she clung to him. For a long moment, she knew nothing.

When she finally opened her eyes, Travis looked down at her anxiously. “Are you all right? I told you the first time would be—”

“I’m all right,” she assured him and pulled his dear face down to kiss his cheek.

He brushed the hair away from her face tenderly. “That was the best I’ve ever had.”

She almost said, “Me, too,” then remembered she was supposed to be innocent. “Should we go back into the house in case the kids wake up?”

“I’d like to lay here all night and hold you, but I reckon we have to go in. I’ll go in first and then you follow,” he said and stood up, buttoning his jeans. “I’ll bring in your valise and tear up the note. Nothing that happens tomorrow can beat this. I’m looking forward to loving you for a long, long time.”

She smiled up at him and he turned and strode toward the house. She lay there weeping softly because he didn’t know there would be no more passionate love scenes. Violet dried her tears, pulled herself together and went into the house.

She went to bed but could not sleep. Tomorrow was the big day and she had a picnic to make. She would enjoy the day with the kids and then tomorrow night, she would slip away. Where she was going, she wasn’t sure, but she had to leave and not take the chance that Travis would ever learn of her tawdry past.

The fireworks woke Violet early. She wanted to lie there and remember last night in Travis’s arms, but already, the children were bouncing on her bed, yelling. “Get up! Get up! It’s Fourth of July and some of the kids are already shooting off firecrackers!”

She smiled and sat up in bed. “Is Travis up yet?”

“He’s in the kitchen making coffee,” Kessie answered, “and he’s waiting for you to start breakfast so we can get ready for the day!”

“What happened to Conchita?”

“She packed up and went back to Mrs. Van Mayes early this morning.” Harold grinned. “She said she never saw such an unruly household.”

“And we love it that way, don’t we?” Violet laughed. “All right. Now you all get out of here and let me get dressed. I’ll be right in.”

The kids left the room and she heard them pounding down the hall to the kitchen as she shut the door and pulled on her yellow gingham dress. She smiled as she thought of last night in Travis’s arms. She had never been loved like that. Then she remembered that tonight, when the children were asleep, she would sneak away and out of Travis’s life forever.

With a worried frown, she put on her shoes and headed to the kitchen to be met by the aroma of coffee and an array of eager little faces.

Travis grinned at her. “Hello, sleepyhead. You sleep in on such an important day?”

She looked up at him, searching his face, but it betrayed nothing. “Travis—” she began.

“Later,” he cautioned. “We’ve got a hungry bunch here.”

She waved the kids toward the table. “All right, who wants flapjacks and who wants biscuits?”

“Both!” yelled Houston, pounding on the table and his voice was echoed by the others.

“All right.” She smiled and nodded. “Travis, get out of my way and I’ll see what I can do.”

“Music to my ears.” He smiled and, taking his cup of coffee, retreated to the parlor. “Let me know when it’s ready.”

Did he care about her or had he only taken advantage of her vulnerability last night? There was no time to think about that, but she could think of little else as she cooked.

Outside, firecrackers exploded and she heard children already on the street, shouting and laughing.

“Hurry up,” Harold begged, “or we’ll miss all the fun.”

“I hardly think so,” she snorted as she scrambled eggs. “The party will be going on ’til midnight tonight.”

“But without us,” Kessie said. “Look out the window. You see the suffragettes gathering in the street?”

Travis called from the other room. “Violet, are you gonna let her march with those women?”

She bristled as she put the eggs and ham onto a platter and carried it to the dining room. “Well, I don’t see what it would hurt.”

“Ornery boys might be throwing rotten eggs or rocks,” Travis complained.

“Oh, hush and come eat,” Violet yelled. “She’s not afraid.”

Travis was still grumbling as he came to the table and sat down. “I’m not in a mood to fight anyone today. Pigheaded women. Who knows what they’ll want next?”

Bonnie climbed up in his lap. “I want watermelon,” she lisped.

Violet laughed. “See? That’s what happens when women finally get equal rights; they want watermelon.”

Kessie looked from Violet to Travis. “So is it all right if I march in the parade?”

Harold snorted. “You’ll look like an idiot.”

“She’s just headstrong.” Travis helped himself to the flapjacks. “Which is okay in this household. Mind you”—he shook his finger at Kessie—“I’m not sure I’m in favor of all this marching foolishness, but I reckon my girls are as smart as any man, so they ought to be allowed to vote.”

Violet smiled at him as she poured more coffee, wondering if he was thinking about last night, too.

Houston said, “I’m gonna enter the shooting contest. I want to win that black filly.”

“Pony,” Bonnie said over a mouthful of food as she sat on Travis’s knee. “Ride your pony.”

“It won’t be a pony, it’ll be a real horse,” Houston said, “and I’m gonna win it.”

Violet looked at him. “Now don’t get your heart set on it, Houston. Probably most men in town will enter.”

Travis sipped his coffee. “He’s a good shot; I’ve been teaching him at lunchtime. He might win.”

Houston looked around the table, his mouth smeared with syrup. “And then I can be a real cowboy in spite of my leg, can’t I, Travis?”

“Yep. A real cowboy. All you need now is a ranch.”

“You’d have that if you married Charlotte,” Violet said to Travis.

He frowned at her, then set down his cup so hard it rattled.

She waited, wondering if he would say something like “I love you, Violet. You’re the one I want.”

The only sound was the occasional firecracker outside and the noise of people gathering on the street. The racket through the open windows made the children gobble their breakfasts.

“Travis,” Violet said, “you will watch the kids and not let them do anything dangerous that might blow off a finger or something?”

He frowned at her. “Now what kind of question is that? You kids will be careful with the fireworks, won’t you?”

All four heads nodded. “Can we go now?” They were already scampering away from the table.

“I reckon.” Travis grinned and stood up and looked around. “Where’s Growler?” he asked.

“Hiding under the bed,” Bonnie lisped. “Him scared.”

“Well, leave him there for the day,” Travis said. “You coming for the parade, Violet?”

“I got to pack the picnic first,” she answered.

“See you outside then.” Travis nodded and got up. The kids gathered around him with excitement as Violet began to clean off the table. Usually the kids would have helped her, but today they were too excited. She heard them all go out the front door as she cleared off the table and began to fry chicken and make potato salad for her family. Her family. She had long ago began to think of them that way, but after Travis had made love to her last night, did he feel the same way, or was she just a convenient female? She wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

She soon had her picnic basket packed and went out the door to join the crowds gathered along Main Street. The parade was starting from three blocks down the street in front of the livery stable. She looked around for Travis and didn’t see him.

Then the band music began, maybe a little off-key, but playing a march loudly. Mr. O’Neal, the pompous owner of the hardware store, was the drum major and he marched out in front of the band as they came down the street. Violet looked around for her kids. She saw them then, halfway down the block and across the street. Travis stood with all the kids but Kessie. He had Bonnie up on his broad shoulders. The kids waved at her, but Travis seemed preoccupied. The band marched past, and then the Men’s Athletic Club. Violet thought the most athletic thing any of them had done in years was hoist a beer in the back room of the pool hall. A wagon pulled the suffragette group and she looked anxiously for Kessie. Some of the people around her booed and yelled, “Liberals! Get back in your kitchens!” at the ladies as they waved their
VOTES FOR WOMEN
signs.

There were horses in the parade and a couple of men dressed like clowns. Some mischievous boys ran out and threw firecrackers under the horses and sent them neighing and rearing.

The Women’s Social Club came by riding in Mrs. Van Mayes’s fancy barouche and of course, she was among them, along with Mrs. Clay, the banker’s wife, and her two ugly daughters; Miss Knowlen, the librarian; and Miss Brewster, the bony schoolmarm.
CULTURAL EVENTS AND CIVILIZATION FOR PLEASANT VALLEY
read their banner.

Charlotte waved at Violet and she pretended not to notice.

Once the parade was over, everyone gathered in the park for games and contests. There were booths where one could win a toy bear by knocking over the wooden pins with a ball, and all sorts of other games, a booth to buy tart, cold lemonade and slices of watermelon. The suffragettes had set up a booth handing out their literature, and that’s where Violet found Kessie.

A group of toughs had gathered to catcall the women and throw horse manure at them.

“Stop that!” Violet yelled. “Stop that!”

“And whose gonna make us, lady?” one of the rough boys yelled back.

She looked around. She knew there were no lawmen here. The sheriff was still laid up from his brush with the gun shop robbers and his deputy had driven the two outlaws over to the county seat for trial and hadn’t gotten back yet.

Travis strode up just then. “You boys stop it. These ladies got the right to pass out their papers. They aren’t hurting anyone.”

One of the Jenkins boys acted as if he might start an argument, but another whispered, “That’s the one who stopped the robbery. I hear he used to be a Texas Ranger.”

“Aw, he’s got a crippled arm,” jeered another. “He ain’t no problem.”

Travis advanced on the boys. “You want to try me?”

The boys turned and ran, blended into the crowd.

Violet smiled, “Thanks. I was afraid it might get rough.”

He didn’t smile. “Get Kessie out of that booth so she can help you with the picnic.”

Violet glanced up at the sky. It must be about noon and the weather was getting hot. “Oh, I reckon it is about time to eat.”

Mrs. Van Mayes hurried up and grabbed Travis’s arm. “Why don’t you and your children join me? I’m sure my servants have packed a lot of delicious food.”

Travis hesitated. “I think I’d better eat with Violet and the kids.”

The lady shrugged. “I’m sure her cooking won’t be anything fancy.”

“Maybe not, but it suits me,” Travis said and picked up Violet’s basket.

They started toward the picnic grounds with the kids running ahead of them through the crowd.

“Thank you for that,” Violet said.

“Don’t mention it.” He caught her elbow as they walked.

She waited for him to say something about last night, but he didn’t. Maybe it hadn’t meant as much to him as it had to her.

They laid out their picnic on a blanket on the grass in the shade of a big live oak tree. Around them, other families had spread their food and children ran between the blankets, playing tag and yelling to each other.

Violet opened her basket and looked up at Travis. “I hope you’re not disappointed. Charlotte probably had a lot of delicacies and all I’ve got is fried chicken and chocolate cake.”

He grinned at her. “It doesn’t get any better than that. You sell yourself too short, Violet.”

She began to lay out the food. “Later, I’d like to talk about last night.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” he murmured. “Do you regret it?”

She shook her head.

“Neither do I,” he answered and sat down on the edge of the blanket. Then he turned and yelled at the kids. “Hey, if you don’t come on, I’ll eat every bite.”

They all tumbled onto the blanket like a bunch of puppies, laughing and romping.

“Watch out!” Violet cautioned. “You’ll spill the lemonade.”

“Settle down,” Travis said. “There’s a whole afternoon ahead and skyrockets tonight.”

Each child grabbed a piece of golden fried chicken.

“Oh, good,” Harold said. “Is there fried potatoes?”

“No, potato salad,” Violet answered, “and homemade pickles and fresh bread.”

Kessie looked around at each one as she ate. “We’re just like a real family.”

“We are a real family,” Travis said.

Violet didn’t say anything, wondering if Travis had any idea that she was going away tonight as he slept. “Who wants lemonade?”

Of course everyone did. She didn’t realize how thirsty she was until she tasted the cool, tart juice and the sugar on the side of the glass.

Bonnie said, “Save some for Growler.”

“Of course, honey.” She grabbed the toddler and tried to wipe off her greasy face. “You look like you need a nap.”

“That sounds great,” Travis said and spread out on the edge of the blanket, put his Stetson over his face.

Violet sipped her lemonade and smiled at the children. Now they had chocolate cake smeared across their mouths, but she didn’t say anything. No matter what happened in the future, life was good today and she wouldn’t think past that.

At about one o’clock, the horse racing and the shooting matches began while the ladies sat in the shade and visited and small children like Bonnie napped on the blankets under the trees.

Of course the shooting match, with the fine black filly as a prize, was the major event of the day. Most of the men and some of the boys had entered this contest at the edge of the park.

People began to gather to watch this big event. Targets had been set up at the end of the park and dozens of men and boys lined up with their rifles to take their shots.

Violet gathered up her picnic and Bonnie was awake now. Violet looked at Travis. “Has Houston got a chance?”

Travis nodded. “He’s pretty good for a boy. I’ve been teaching him. Having a bum leg doesn’t stop him from being a good shot.”

“He’s just so determined to have that horse,” Violet said. “I don’t want him to be disappointed if he doesn’t win.”

Travis shrugged. “That’s part of becoming a man. You can’t have everything you want, you can only try your best.”

“That’s right.”

She left her picnic basket by the tree and took Bonnie’s hand as they walked over to watch the men lining up to shoot.

Some of the boys hooted when scrawny Houston stepped up to the starting line. He was the last one to compete and Travis was whispering to him earnestly.

A boy yelled, “Hey, crip, you think you can shoot?”

Houston looked back at him. “I think I can,” he said softly. “I want that horse.”

“Now, young man,” said the livery store owner, “you’ll have to beat my score. I’m a pretty good shot and I want that horse, too.”