Love and Glory: The Coltrane Saga, Book 3 (49 page)

Travis left the house, taking the marble stairs three at a time. Mounting his black horse quickly, he headed down the driveway, headed into the night and towards destiny.

He spurred the horse into a gallop, wanting to hurry, wanting to put as much as distance as possible between himself and whatever force was drawing him back.

His horse slowed, finally coming to a stop. Travis stared straight ahead, immobile. Why? Why had he not gone charging ahead?

Because…
a voice called, echoing from within the deepest recesses of himself…
destiny sometimes lies behind.

Reining the horse around, he found he knew exactly where he was going. It took him only moments to get there.

She was bathed in moonlight, her face sparkling with starlight. She was sitting on the grassy slope leading from the springhouse, wearing a simple dress of blue muslin. Her legs were doubled, chin resting on her knees, a melancholy look on her lovely face, her fingers interlaced around a wild flower. Pressing her nose against the gentle yellow petals, she inhaled the sweet fragrance, staring into the blue velvet cloak of night that surrounded her.

Her lips trembled as she pursed them to kiss the flower.

“You have me to do that for you.” The husky voice startled her. He knelt, pressed his lips against hers, then moved back, smiling. “Flowers don’t kiss back, sweetheart. I do.”

Her voice was so gentle he could barely hear her. “Why have you come here?”

He sat down beside her and reached to push a strand of chestnut hair back from her face. “Because I knew you would be here. I asked to see you at the house, but Willis said you ran out when you knew I was coming. Why?”

She glanced away. “I couldn’t bear to see you again.”

“Why?” he demanded tersely. “Why couldn’t you see me? Did you want me to go away without saying good-bye? Is that all we meant to each other?”

“I have no illusions.” She met his gaze boldly. “What is one more good-bye to a man like you?”

“I think,” he murmured thoughtfully, “there are things you should know about me, about why I can never love another woman.”

“You don’t have to tell me,” she said. “I know. I talked to Sam. He told me about Kitty.”

He felt himself go tense. “When did you talk to Sam?”

“It’s been weeks ago. I went to see him. I felt there was something I should know. It seemed there was. Don’t be angry with him, Travis. He’s your friend. He did me a great favor, because after he told me everything, I knew that I could mean only one thing to you.” Suddenly she clasped the bodice of her blue dress and ripped it down.

He gasped. Her bare breasts gleamed in the moonlight. He lightly touched the firm, warm mounds. “My body,” she whispered, “is all you will allow me to give you. So take it, Travis. It’s yours. Let me give you this, at least, and I will treasure tonight for as long as I live.”

She began crying, her body trembling as she undressed him, then pulled off her dress. She lay down, naked on the grass, the moonlight on her naked body.

He stared down at her in wonder, but there was no time for pondering. Her thighs were parting. She was positioning herself beneath him, placing her hands on his hips, then pulling him toward her.

“Take me, Travis,” she commanded “Right or wrong, I love you and I want you. I must have this moment.”

She began to cry harder. He thrust himself against her, entering, and then her tears stopped and she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him closer, hugging him with all her might.

He held her around the waist, felt her legs touching his back. He drove into her hard, knowing she was eager. There was no yesterday or today or tomorrow, only that moment, and he would give her all he had to give.

He felt her nails clawing his back, saw her arching as she lifted higher, meeting his every thrust. Again and again he plunged.

He felt himself coming into her, could not wait to see if she was ready, then felt her teeth sink into his hard shoulder.

They took each other to that magnificent peak, riding the wind to the stars. There was no glory but this. And as she screamed his name, he knew that a part of him had crept from the grave. Not his heart, perhaps, but something like it. And if that was his only escape from the grave, then so be it.

Afterward, he held her for a long, long time without speaking. Gradually, the night sounds returned to them…an owl
hooting, a bobcat wailing. A breeze shook the leaves above, danced through the grass around them.

After a long time, he spoke.

“I came because I had to see you, Marilee. I think I wanted to tell you what Sam had already told you. I wanted you to know about Kitty, the great love we shared.”

He released her and sat up, staring straight ahead into the woods. Damn, he had sworn it would never happen again. But it had. Not as intense, of course. No, never that intense.

He looked at her and saw that she was watching him. “I’m leaving in the morning, going to North Carolina to see my son. Then I’m heading for Nevada.”

“I wish you well,” she murmured, glancing away. “Sam says you have a fine son. He needs his father. I hope you take him to Nevada with you.”

“He’s just a little boy. He can’t go shuttling across the country without a woman to take care of him.”

“Then you will leave him behind,” she snapped. “You can’t keep running, Travis.”

“Remember what you said once?” he sounded surprised and there was a stunned expression on his face. “About how no moment can last forever?”

She nodded, smiling sadly. “Yes.”

“No moment can last forever,” he said, more to himself than to her. “So we just have to make more moments.”

She stared at him, her eyes devouring him.

He pulled her into the strong circle of his arms. “I’m asking you to make more moments with me, Marilee,” he whispered huskily. “Go with me. Be my woman. Be a mother to my son.

“I’m asking”—he paused to take a deep breath—“I’m asking you to be my wife.”

She began to cry again, hating herself for the show of weakness. Flinging herself against his broad chest, she held to him tightly. To release her hold could mean the end of the dream.

He laughed and gave her a quick shake. “Hey! Does this mean you’re saying yes?”

She nodded, fighting the impulse to scream her joy. “Yes, Travis. Oh, yes, yes, yes.”

He got to his feet and pulled her along with him. He kissed her there in the moonlight and held her for a long, long time before they dressed, preparing to face the future together.

And Marilee told herself it would have to be enough. She could not ask that he love her…could not be downcast because he did not.

All she
could
ask for, she told her furiously beating heart, were more moments. It would, she promised herself, be enough.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Around him the bank was alive, a beehive. He stood by the window, staring out. To his left and across the street, he could see the four-storied Virginia City Hotel. Soon, he thought with satisfaction, he would no longer call a hotel his home. He wanted a better life for his son…and his wife.

His wife.

Travis took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Even after four months it was still hard to realize that he was married. The best thing about the marriage was the way John and Marilee had taken to one another. Marilee had said John was the kind of little boy a woman couldn’t help but want for her own. Travis smiled with pride as he thought of his five-year-old son. He was quite a little man. His hair was black, like his father’s, and his eyes were the same deep gray.

Mattie Glass had been more than good to the child who was not her own. John seemed undisturbed by his father’s long absence, though ecstatically happy to have him back again. Travis had arrived at a good time, for Mattie Glass had found a new husband, and while Thomas Petula had vowed he would take care of the boy until Travis returned, it was not fair to ask the newlyweds to keep John. Besides, Travis had missed him terribly.

Travis swallowed hard, suddenly reflecting on how, looking into the boy’s steady gaze he could somehow see the woman who still held his heart.

He forced himself back to the present and Marilee. Was it such a bad life for her? he wondered. Hell, he was good to her. With the money that had been piling up from his silver mine, there was nothing he could not buy her. As for affection, well…maybe he didn’t say all the things she would’ve liked, but he had never been the romantic kind.

The fires of passion had dwindled a little. He took her less and less frequently and he could hear her crying in the night sometimes. What could he say to her? He was tired. There was a lot of business. Wasn’t that why? There were no other women. And as long as there were no other women, then he felt she had no real complaint coming.

He tensed, recalling the night when she had shyly asked him if he had ever tired of Kitty. Too much liquor had made his response cruel. “What I had with Kitty is none of your goddamn business!”

He had fallen asleep to the sound of her broken sobs, and the next morning felt rotten. They made love slowly, tenderly, and he made sure she was pleasured not once, not twice, but three times before he let her go. She had seemed happy, content that there was, after all, a place for her in his life. But since that night when he had lashed out at her, there had often been a shadow in her smile. He had resolved never to be so brutal again.

It was about then, he realized, that she had begun to get involved in the new world around her. One day he had returned from his mine to find her in a rage over what she called “the unforgivable Indian situation.” He had listened to her rant about the government, no one seemed to care whether the Indian children were educated or not. A week later she informed him with a “don’t you say a word” look that she had gone to the Indian agent and gotten permission to start a school for Indian children on the outskirts of town in an abandoned Mormon Mission.

He had stared at her silently, incredulous as she talked excitedly of her plans. He decided that after all, it was good. It would give her something to do. Travis shook his head slowly, thoughtfully. He had thought many times that it might have been best for Marilee if he had not married her. Maybe that was true. He just didn’t know.

There had been no time for a honeymoon before the newlyweds and Sam left for North Carolina. But Marilee had been good-natured about it, saying how many women could tell their grandchildren they honeymooned with two men?

Sam had been in good spirits, too, till the night Travis drank too much. The next day Sam got him way away from Marilee and raised hell. “You’re a goddamn fool if you think I’m going to stand by and watch you mistreat that woman!” Sam roared. “Damn it, I know you don’t love her like you loved Kitty, but you can’t treat her like she’s just somebody to have around when you feel like it.

“And you got a son to look after. You’ve got an obligation to John and to your new wife. So don’t start grubbing in booze again. Get on with your life.”

If anyone else had talked to him in such a way, Travis would probably have killed him on the spot. But Sam was Sam. And he was also right.

Travis’ eyes narrowed resentfully as he continued to stare at the hotel. Marilee liked it just fine there. They had a fancy suite with two bedrooms, a parlor, and a dining room. The decor was exquisite—furniture imported from France, carpets from the Orient, oil paintings, velvet and lace drapes, every luxury a woman could want. There was even a separate dressing room with an ornate porcelain tub. The pull of a bell cord brought a maid with buckets of hot water, bath salts, and thick, thirsty towels.

Food was brought in just as easily, delicacies of every kind. The sumptuous meals were placed on the table with wine and fresh flowers, then removed discreetly later.

There was also someone to collect their laundry and bring it back washed and pressed, just as maids cleaned their dwelling each day and changed their sheets and made their beds.

It was, he knew, the kind of life Marilee had always been used to, and he was glad he could afford it. But things were going to change. He was sick of feeling like he lived in someone else’s home. He wanted a real home—a house and land. Lots of land. And he wanted cattle, sheep, horses…a place where John could grow up without being cramped.

After today, Travis smiled to himself, that place would be a reality. It was his surprise. He had picked out the land, a thousand acres bordering the Carson River. It was a perfect place for raising animals, with lots of grass and water. And the house was already there. Oh, not much of a house, not yet, just a two-room cabin. About a week of repair work, and it would be good as new. He would have a little kitchen built on. And later, when the barns were built, and the storage sheds, and the cattle and sheep herds were well established, there would be time to start building a new house. He would let Marilee have whatever she wanted.

Right now all he wanted to do was get the hell out of Virginia City and into the peaceful plains and buttes of Nevada. He couldn’t wait to tell Marilee what he’d done. He looked around and saw Sam pushing his way through the people.

“I been looking all over for you, Travis,” he called. “Thank God I tracked you down.”

“What’s the problem?” Travis sighed.