Love and Fury: The Coltrane Saga, Book 4 (2 page)

As Charlene approached, Kitty noted that if not for the disapproving expression on her face, Charlene would easily have been regarded as the loveliest young lady there. She did not, thank heavens, look like her mother. There was a ripe freshness about Charlene. Her hair, the color of sweet honey, bounced about her heart-shaped face with natural curls. Wide blue eyes were framed by long, silky lashes. Her saucy, turned-up nose would have given her an appealing gamine look except for her snobbish nature. As it was, the nose only emphasized her uppity attitude.

Charlene was tiny, petite, and her gown, in a brilliant shade of red taffeta, with short puffed sleeves, tufts of lace and white bows scattered all over the billowing skirt, made her appear even more daintily doll-like.

Flashing Kitty a smile of greeting, Charlene then turned all her attention on Colt. Her voice was tight as she said, “I’ve been looking for you all evening. You brought me here, and then went off and left me. I think you are being very discourteous to me.”

Colt regarded her coolly, and Kitty was aware of another of his inherited traits. Travis never justified himself to anyone. Colt could easily have explained to Charlene that he had, at his mother’s request, gone down to the docks to see if there was any word from his father, or whether Travis’s ship had docked. But, just like Travis, Colt offered nothing by way of explanation.

Charlene tapped a satin-slippered toe in exasperation, arms folded, as she stared up at him. What, she wondered, was it going to take to bring him to heel?

“Don’t you have anything to say for yourself, Colt?”

He raised an eyebrow, drew in his breath, and let it out slowly. “My dear, it was your idea to come to New York, not mine. It is not my responsibility to see that you enjoy yourself.”

With a curt nod and a bow to his mother, Colt turned on his heel and left, disappearing quickly into the crowd.

Charlene whirled on Kitty. “Did you raise your son to be so impudent, Mrs. Coltrane? You’ve seen the way he treats me, and—”

“Charlene,” Kitty was quick to interrupt, “perhaps John Travis has reached the limit of his endurance. Though he was blunt, you must agree that you are not here by his invitation. Perhaps you expected too much of him.”

The tears that glimmered in Charlene’s blue eyes were genuine, as was the tremor in her voice. “Mrs. Coltrane, I’m sorry if I’ve caused you any distress, but I really do need to talk to you.”

Kitty pitied the urgency in the girl’s manner, and she was about to respond to her plea, but at that moment a man nearby remarked loudly, “I do believe that’s Colonel Coltrane coming in now. You know who he is, don’t you? The President holds him in the highest regard and…”

Kitty heard no more as, with pounding heart, she turned and saw her husband, the father of her son, her man. All the love she had for Travis went rushing through her and she thrust her way toward him, pushing through the crowd, calling to him.

Travis heard and turned toward the sound of her voice. As he spotted her, his heart thrilled. She was still the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Rushing toward her, he reached out with those strong arms and folded her against his chest, awed by the overwhelming love that never waned but grew even more intense with every passing day.

For long moments, the two embraced in silence, oblivious to the stares of those around them. Time stood still, and there was no other world but theirs.

Travis was the first to break the spell as he whispered, lips warm against her ear, “God knows I’ve missed you, Kitty.”

She pulled away, tilting her head to gaze up into the eyes that shone with deep, abiding love. Her lips parted, but before she could make a sound, a man exuding authority and efficiency approached, clearing his throat pointedly.

With a polite acknowledgment to Kitty, he addressed himself to Travis. “Colonel Coltrane, I’m Malcolm Preddy, aide to the President. President Harrison requests a private audience with you now, before dinner. Will you come with me, please?”

Travis gave him the crooked, almost arrogant smile that Kitty knew so well. Then, eyes devouring Kitty, he murmured, “Sorry, Mr. Preddy, but the President will have to wait. I’m about to have a private audience with my wife.”

He took her arm to lead her away, but the aide said firmly, a hint of annoyance in his tone, “The President is waiting, sir.”

Travis chuckled. “So am I. I have been waiting for about three months now.”

He started to move away, but Kitty held back. Hesitantly she said, “Travis, maybe you’d better go with him. I’ll wait for you here.”

“No,” Travis said shortly. “I will speak with the President, but I’m not letting you out of my sight, so you’ll have to come along.” He kissed her cheek and hugged her against him, then looked at the aide.

Malcolm Preddy, wondering about protocol, nevertheless sensed, as people quickly did, that Travis meant what he said. “Very well,” Preddy sighed, “I’ll take you both to him.”

Again Kitty held back, realizing that
her
presence had not been requested. She knew she would feel quite uncomfortable forcing herself into the meeting. Squeezing Travis’s hand, she said, “Let me wait for you. I prefer it this way, really.”

“As you wish, my dear,” he said. “I won’t be long.”

As she watched him go, she saw the admiring stares of the women he passed. Dashing, handsome, Travis was even more striking that night in an elegant white velvet suit and pale-blue ruffled shirt. His dark hair curled softly around his neck, nearly to his collar.

Yes, she mused, taking a deep breath birthed of pride and love, Travis Coltrane was a handsome man and a joy to live with, satisfying her in every way.

Colt appeared at her side a few moments later. “So he’s back,” he said. “And I just missed him. Is everything all right?”

Kitty explained that Travis had gone to speak with the President. “Maybe it’s about his new assignment, though I hope there won’t be one for a while,” she said worriedly. Then, remembering her son’s distress, she quickly changed the subject. “Where is Charlene? I’m afraid I was very rude, running off and leaving her that way, but when I saw your father…”

“No ruder than I was, Mother. I suppose I should go find her, smooth things over.” He looked around the room as he spoke. “But I don’t see her.”

People were starting to move toward the dining rooms. “Maybe you should look for her,” Kitty suggested, “while I wait for your father.’’

Colt nodded. “I think it’s time I had a long talk with Charlene. If,” he added irritably, “she can hear me at all over the wedding bells ringing in her ears.”

Kitty laughed, and Colt shook his head ruefully as he walked away. She couldn’t blame Charlene for wanting to rope Colt in and brand him, but she doubted he’d be branded for a long time to come. Travis had been well into his thirties before he married, and had never truly settled down, married or not.

Twenty minutes passed, and Kitty found herself standing alone, her only company the waiters moving around retrieving discarded champagne glasses and napkins.

She took a deep breath, let it out slowly. Travis was with the President, she reminded herself, and that was important. But she was having a hard time being patient, because she wanted to be with the man she loved.

At last Travis appeared, his expression one of thoughtful resolution, and Kitty grew anxious. Without a word, he wrapped his hand around hers and led her outside, into the night.

“Where are we going?” she protested. “We’re already late for dinner, Travis, and John Travis is expecting us—”

He silenced her with a deep, smoldering kiss, then hurried her along.

A short distance away was a small park, with many clumps of high shrubs. The city had not yet brought streetlights in this far, for the government officials did not feel it was justifiable to bring the expensive Edison tube, a copper conductor wrapped with jute and placed in an iron tube, to so little-used an area.

Travis started to enter the shadowed, dark park, and Kitty balked. Stamping her foot, she demanded, “Travis Coltrane, just what are you up to? You drag me away without a word of explanation, and now you’re heading into the woods. I’ll snag my dress on something and—”

“And you talk too much.” Travis picked her up, easily tossing her over his shoulder, and continued on his way. “To hell with your dress. We can afford a thousand new dresses.”

Kitty continued her litany of complaints and queries, kicking her feet and beating on his back with her fists, but they both knew she wasn’t really angry. Finally, when they reached a secluded spot far from the street, Travis set her on her feet. He pulled her close to him.

Kitty continued to feign indignation. “Have you taken leave of your senses? Walking out, missing dinner—”

“You are all the food I need, Kitty.”

Tilting her head to one side, lavender eyes shining seductively, she murmured, “Will you ever grow up, Travis Coltrane? We aren’t newlyweds anymore.”

He gently scooped her breasts from the bodice of her dress in one swift movement. Kneading the firm flesh with gentle fingertips, he huskily whispered, “When we’ve been married over twenty years, I will still want you every night.”

Kitty thrilled to the memories of ardent lovemaking they had experienced every night they’d ever been together. Never had she denied Travis, for to have done so would have been to deny her own hunger.

He bent, kissing each nipple to taut erectness. Then he pulled her down to the grass, lying beside her. He removed her gown expertly, continuing to kiss her nipples as he maneuvered her gown away from her body. Soon she was naked, her china-white skin glistening in the faint moonlight.

He unfastened his trousers, releasing his manhood and rubbing it against her enticingly. She felt the pulsating strength of his desire and moaned softly. She longed to tell him of her great need but knew Travis had never wanted words when making love. His body was all the communication he offered.

He spread her legs, bending her knees at the same time, and pushed himself inside the velvet recess of her waiting womanhood. She gasped as he filled her with his massive rod, marveling that she could take all of him. Her hips began to undulate, matching his steady rhythm. Release would come soon, she knew, for it had been so long. Travis did not attempt to prolong the ultimate ecstasy. He knew just how to drive and move within her to take her to sweet joy, and then he allowed himself to explode furiously.

It was, in that brief moment, two hearts, two souls, melding into a single entity. Both gasped as the magic flowed through them, entwining their very beings.

They lay in silence, arms and legs around each other, until their breathing quieted. Only then did Travis roll to the side, still holding her close against him.

“It never ends,” she whispered, awed.

“It never will. Not until we die,” said Travis. “And who’s to say we won’t find our own little cloud in heaven and spend eternity in passion?” He chuckled softly. “Maybe that’s what heaven is, anyway—one long peak of ecstasy.”

Kitty playfully cuffed his chin. “Travis Coltrane, you are going to burn in hell for being so…so
blasphemous.”

“And you will burn with me, princess, because you made me this way.”

They lay quietly for a time. Finally Kitty couldn’t suppress her curiosity any longer, and asked, “What did the President want you to do?”

She felt him stiffen slightly.

“Travis, tell me,” she begged, suddenly alarmed.

He released her, lying on his back and gazing thoughtfully into the star-studded night.

Kitty, with great effort, restrained her anxiety, knowing that Travis would speak when he was ready to. That was his way, and no prodding would hurry him.

After several moments, Travis came out of his reverie and announced softly, “Kitty, we’re moving to Paris.”

She stared at him, openmouthed.

“Paris,” he continued. “We’ll be moving to Paris. The President feels I could be of some use there as a diplomat. With the monarchists and the Bonapartists and the radicals all keeping things stirred up, he thinks America had best keep a close watch on things.”

He paused to take a deep, tense breath, then finished. “He wants us to leave by the end of the month.”

Kitty couldn’t speak, couldn’t think. A hundred emotions were surging through her. Paris? The end of the month? But what about the mine, the ranch, Colt? What about
home?
Why didn’t Travis ask if she
wanted
to go? Maybe she ought to’ve been consulted, for pity’s sake!

He sat up to embrace her, understanding well enough what she was feeling, for he had felt the same way an hour ago. “It will be a new life for both of us, Kitty, an exciting life. I’ll never have to leave you again, don’t you see? The President promised he wouldn’t ask, and I told him it wouldn’t do him any good if he did.

“John Travis can run things at home. It’s time he took some responsibility for the family interests. Besides, the mine is such a big operation now, it practically runs itself.”

He held her close. “We’re going to have a good life there, princess. And just think,” he added with a chuckle, “there’s enough to see and do in Europe that my wanderlust—which you’ve always found so annoying—will be satisfied for years.”