Travis (8 page)

The woman made a face. “I can’t stand dogs.”

“Doggie, my doggie,” Boo Hoo wept. “Feathers, don’t make me go.”

Immediately Violet knelt and gathered the sobbing child into her arms. “They’d give you a nice home, honey.”

“No, no, no!” Boo Hoo screamed and now people were turning to look at the scene she was making.

Limpy came forward. and looked up at Travis, tears in his dark eyes. “Please, Mr. Ranger, don’t let them take her.”

“We’ll give her a good home,” Horace said.

By now all the children were gathered around Boo Hoo as if to protect her and Growler bared his teeth at the prosperous would-be parents.

“My heavens!” gasped the woman. “And the dog is a vicious beast!”

“Never mind,” Travis said and bent over and picked up Boo Hoo with his good arm. “I don’t think you’re the right people to adopt this little girl.”

Boo Hoo put her arms around his neck and sobbed. Travis sighed. Her drawers were wet again.

He looked down at Violet and she smiled up at him. “Thank you,” she whispered.

They all started walking.

“Well, hell,” Travis muttered, “this ain’t gonna be as easy as I thought.”

“Please don’t swear in front of the children,” Violet said primly.

Behind him, he heard the defeated voice of Limpy. “We told you we was rejects. None of these people really want us.”

Violet patted his thin shoulder as he hobbled along on his crutch. “I’m sure that’s not true. We just haven’t found the right families yet.”

It was dark now and a rowdy, drunken cowboy galloped down the street, shouting and shooting his pistol in the air.

“This is going to be a rough town for a while,” Travis grumbled, “in spite of the army. There’s too many people to keep corralled.”

Boo Hoo had gone to sleep against his shoulder. They walked past a tent where a small piano banged away and girls with too little clothes and too much paint on their faces tried to beckon him in. “Hey, big boy, we know how to show a guy like you a good time.”

Travis brushed them off and turned to look down into Violet’s fresh young face. “Don’t look, young lady. Them’s bad women and you’re too innocent to know about the likes of them.”

 

 

Violet looked up at him, feeling her cheeks burn. If he only knew her background . . . but of course he didn’t and she wanted to keep it that way. She could probably go to work in that very tent at top wages and make more than enough to look after these four orphans, but what kind of a life would that be? Besides, it wouldn’t include Travis Prescott. “I’ll bet I could get a job there, maybe serving sandwiches or something.” She looked up at him.

“Sandwiches?” he snorted. “That’s not what they’re selling. That’s no place for an innocent kid like you. Now come on, let’s get away from here.”

In truth, if he didn’t have these five kids with him, he’d welcome a drink and a hand of cards and maybe a few minutes on the cot with one of these painted whores, but he had little money and five responsibilities.

They walked the length of the town, looking over people they might consider letting adopt the children, but the more Travis looked, the worse all these people seemed to him. He couldn’t imagine letting any of them have these kids. These were special kids and he decided none of these settlers was good enough to give them homes.

They had walked a long way. Boo Hoo was still asleep on his shoulder with Growler following patiently behind and Violet and the kids, Mouse and the ox wagon still trailing along.

They passed another makeshift saloon, and a cowboy stumbled out and tipped his hat to Violet. “Hello, there, baby, let me buy you a drink.” He grabbed her wrist.

Travis stopped and glared down at him. “Listen, hombre, you let go of that innocent young lady or I’ll wipe up this street with you!”

The man seemed to take one look at the size and expression of Travis and backed away. “Sorry, mister, I didn’t know it was your daughter.”

“He was harmless,” Violet protested to Travis.

“Drunks need to keep their hands off nice girls,” Travis growled.

“I’m hungry,” Kessie said, chewing her nails.

“So am I,” Harold echoed.

Travis stopped and looked at all of them. In the darkness, he could see how exhausted and hungry they all were.

Violet shrugged helplessly. “I’m sorry, Mr. Prescott. I really thought we’d find our own way and you wouldn’t have to mess with us after today. I reckon you’ve done your part and can ride on.”

“It’s all right,” he answered gently. “I ain’t giving these kids to just anybody. These are really special kids and you all deserve better. Anyway we don’t have to worry about it right now. Let’s go to the creek and maybe catch some fish and bed down for the night.”

“But I promised you once we got to Guthrie—”

“That’s okay.” He patted her shoulder gently. “Miss Violet, you’re doing the best you can and it’s a heavy load for a young girl. We’ll camp and see what we can do about food.”

They turned and he led them all to Cottonwood Creek.

“Limpy, you stake out Mouse and the ox, and Violet, will you take Boo Hoo? She needs dry drawers.”

“Oh, dear.” Violet took her and laid her in the ox wagon.

“Start a fire,” Travis said, “and I’ll see if the boys and I can catch some fish.”

Kessie cocked her fiery red head. “You’ll have to catch a bunch to feed this crowd.”

“Maybe I can rustle up something else,” Violet said.

“Don’t get too far from camp,” Travis warned her as he took some fishing line out of his saddlebags. “There’s bad men who’d take advantage of a sweet, decent girl and I don’t want to have to kill anyone or beat him up tonight. My hand’s still too tender.”

She had never had a man offer to fight for her. They had fought over her, but never for her. “I’ll be careful.” She smiled at him.

“Kessie, you watch after Boo Hoo, and boys, come along and I’ll teach you how to fish. You ever fish before?”

Both boys shook their heads.

“You need to learn a lot of things, seems like,” Travis scolded. “There’s just things men need to know.”

“Is that stuff Texas Rangers know?” Limpy asked.

“Sure ’nuff.” Travis nodded. “Did you know the first Rangers wore stars made out of Mexican five cinco silver pesos?”

“Really?” Harold asked as they walked.

They went down to the creek where Travis showed them how to catch grasshoppers and bait a hook. They returned half an hour later with a string of catfish and perch. Travis noted Boo Hoo’s drawers were hanging from a nearby bush and Violet had a fire going and potatoes frying along with a pot of coffee boiling.

“Boy howdy.” Travis grinned. “Where’d you get the extra grub?”

She hesitated. “I figured it was an emergency—the kids were hungry.”

“Kids are always hungry,” Travis said as he began to clean the fish and all the kids gathered around to watch. “Here, Limpy, take over. My wrist hurts.”

“I don’t know how,” the crippled boy protested.

“Well, it’s time you learned. Cleaning fish is something a man learns young. Now, young lady, where’d you get the potatoes and milk? I hope you didn’t steal them; that ain’t honest.”

“Well, if you must know, I traded your last little bottle of whiskey for the potatoes and some canned milk for Boo Hoo.” Violet took a deep breath for courage.

He glared at her. “You did what?”

“Now, Mr. Prescott, you can always get more whiskey—”

“I’m pretty much out of money,” Travis snapped.

“Is whiskey more important than milk for a baby?” Violet stood her ground.

Travis hesitated, then laughed. “Kid, you remind me of my mother. She’s spirited, too. I reckon she’d say I was makin’ too big a thing of it. You’re right. Boo Hoo needs milk.”

“I got a little cornmeal, too,” Violet said, “so I’m making hush puppies to go with the fish.”

“You’re right handy and resourceful,” Travis said. “About like a Texas girl.”

“Well, I’m a Southern girl from Memphis, I reckon it’s almost the same.”

He looked at his wrist and winced. “Take over then. The boys about got the fish cleaned.”

“Then what?”

He shrugged. “I reckon it’s too late to make decisions tonight. We’ll sleep and then decide what to do tomorrow.”

Little Boo Hoo stuck her sleepy head out of the wagon. “Stay with Travis,” she whimpered. “Stay with Travis and Growler.”

“Don’t say anything that will make her start crying,” Violet warned. “Hey, honey, we’ll have some food in a minute.”

Boo Hoo toddled over and climbed up on Travis’s knee. She was wet, but he didn’t move her.

“I want to look at your wrist after supper,” Violet said.

“It’s still sore as a pincushion, but it’s quit swelling,” Travis answered. “I reckon I’ll never be able to shoot worth a damn again—”

“No cuss.” Little Boo Hoo shook her finger in Travis’s face.

“I forgot,” Travis said. “Sorry.”

The toddler leaned her small face against his wide chest.

Violet smiled at him as she breaded the fish and put it in the skillet. “You look like you’re used to having a kid in your lap.”

“Not hardly,” he snorted. “Of course Boo Hoo is special.”

“We ought to give her a better name,” Violet said as she cooked.

“Growler,” lisped the toddler.

“The dog’s already got that name, honey,” Travis explained.

Violet paused. “What about Bonnie? That was my mother’s name.”

“Where is your mother?” Travis asked.

Tears came to Violet’s eyes. “She’s dead.”

“Tough luck,” Travis’s deep voice was sympathetic. “I don’t know what I’d do without my ma. She’d like you, young lady.”

Violet merely smiled and continued poking the frying fish. “So it’s Bonnie then?”

“Sounds good to me.” Travis smiled. “What do you think, kids?”

Boo Hoo laughed. “Bonnie. I’m Bonnie.”

“That settles that.” Travis nodded.

The young girl had pulled the crisp fish out of the skillet and fried her hush puppies. They didn’t have much in the way of dinnerware, but they managed. Everyone dived in and there was plenty. Travis leaned back against a tree and watched them all eat. He couldn’t remember a time he’d felt so satisfied and here he was stuck with five needy orphans and not the slightest idea what to do with them. Maybe in the morning he’d find some good families or a preacher to look after them. After that, he’d figure out what to do about his future, now that he was too disabled to be a Texas Ranger.

 

 

In the morning, as daylight broke and Violet poured coffee, he made a decision. “I saw some people building a church last night; I’m taking you all there.”

Kessie’s homely little face crumpled. “We’re just getting used to you, Mr. Prescott.”

Violet sighed and kept making biscuits. “Mr. Prescott is a Ranger, kids, and needs to get back to Texas.”

Boo Hoo, now Bonnie, wrapped her arms around Growler’s neck so tightly Travis thought she might choke the dog to death.

“Violet’s right,” he said as he sipped his coffee. “I’m a bachelor and got no use for a ready-made family. That preacher will find you all good homes.”

No one said anything. Travis felt so guilty he could hardly eat. He knew he’d made the right decision, but then, why did he feel so bad?

After breakfast, they packed up the oxcart and Travis told the boys to put out the fire. “Man’s got to know about putting out campfires,” he said. “Otherwise, you might start a prairie fire.”

“I reckon we’ll never need to know that now,” Harold said as he poured a bucket of water on the flames.

“That’s always good to know,” Travis insisted. “Now stir the ashes and make sure it’s out.”

Finally everyone was ready to leave. Travis mounted up. “It was down this way.” He led off with the oxcart following him. He tried not to listen, but he could hear little Bonnie sobbing in the background.

Two blocks away, he came to the people building the church. Travis dismounted and approached the honest-looking man holding a hammer. “You the preacher here?”

“I am, brother.” The man held out his hand and Travis shook it with his left hand.

“I’ve got these here five orphans I need help finding homes for.” He turned and gestured toward the group standing by the wagon.

“Where’d you get them?”

Travis hesitated. “I found them in Kansas, they’d got separated from their folks some years back.”

“A shame.” The preacher nodded.

“Yep, and I’m on my way to Texas. I was wondering if I could leave them with you and maybe you could find homes for them?”

“I might could,” the preacher said.

Travis took a deep breath. “Then it’s settled. I’d give you some money, but I don’t have any.”

“That’s all right, brother, the Lord will provide. Come on, you kids.” He gestured. “My wife and I have a big tent you can move into.”

Travis mounted up and reined his horse around, passing the children, who all looked up at him. There were tears in their eyes. Well, they would get over it. They were too young to know that they’d be better off with this preacher’s family than tagging along with an injured Ranger who didn’t know where his next meal was coming from.

As he passed Boo Hoo, she held up her arms to him, sobbing, and Growler barked and ran up and down as if not sure what to do.

He reined in and nodded to the oldest girl. “Good-bye, Violet. I hope you find a good home with lots of other young girls.”

Tears ran down her face, but she managed to nod.

“Come on, Growler,” he yelled and started off at a walk. Behind him, he heard Growler bark and little Boo Hoo sobbing, “No! No! Doggie! Doggie!”

He paused and looked behind him. He was a lonely man with little company but his horse and his dog, and now a toddler claimed his dog. Travis had never felt as alone as he did at this moment looking back at five children sobbing behind him.