Sweetwater (34 page)

“Mrs. Murphy, I’d like your permission to walk out with your granddaughter. My intentions are honorable, and I will bring her back to you within an hour.”

“Why, you puffed-up jackass!” Colleen turned on him. “What game are you playin’ now?”

Travor ignored her and looked at Granny.

“I’ll see that no harm comes to her, ma’am. I’ll guard her with my life.”

“Young man, ’pears to me yore life is what needs guardin’ if you go out in the dark with my granddaughter.”

“I’ll handle her without hurtin’ her. I promise.”

“Then go on. Take her for an hour.”

“Gran … ny!” Colleen sputtered. “Are ya tellin’ me to go out in the dark with this … this horny toad?”

“Ya got yore gun, ain’t ya? And yore knife. If he gets outta line, cut him a little. Ain’t nothin’ like a show a blood to cool a feller off, ’specially if it’s his.”

“Thank you, Granny.” Travor grabbed Colleen’s arm and steered her toward the door.

“Turn loose a me, ya smooth-talkin’ warthog!” Colleen tried to shake loose from his hand.

“Now, now, honey. Don’t make a show of yourself in front of your granny, or she might not let you come with me again.” By this time they were out the door and Colleen was gasping with rage.

“That was … low! To fool Granny like that.”

“I wasn’t foolin’ her.”

“Ya fooled her into thinkin’ ya wasn’t goin’ to get me out here to try and paw me.”

“Now don’t go puttin’ ideas in my head. If that’s what you’re wantin’ me to do, honey, I’ll be glad to oblige.”

Colleen dug in her heels. “Ya think every woman ya flirt with wants ya. Well, I
don’t
!”

“Maybe not now, sweetheart. But you’ll change your mind.”

They reached the well. Travor loosened the rope. It slid through his hand until the bucket hit the water. He pulled it up quickly and poured the water into the bucket they had brought from the kitchen.

“Let’s take this in. I told Granny I’d bring you back in an hour, and I don’t want to waste any of my time with you.”

“Back from where?”

“From a stroll. Haven’t you ever walked out with a feller?”

“Yeah, and it was anythin’ but a picnic. Most of ’em had as many hands as a spider has legs.”

They had reached the door. “Stay right here, sweetheart. I’ll take the water bucket in.”

Travor went into the kitchen and set the bucket on the shelf. When he turned, he caught Granny’s eye and winked.

A chuckle died in his throat when he saw that Colleen was not where he left her. He peered into the darkness between the house and the bunkhouse. Unleashing a string of cusswords, he went to the side of the house, then back to look toward the school.

“Shit, shit, shitfire!” he murmured. “Dad-blasted woman!”

“She’s in the shed.” Cassandra’s voice came from the dark shadow beside the house.

“Thanks, Cass. Go in and keep Granny company. If I catch you spyin’ on us, I’ll whop your bottom.”

“Horseshit!”

“That’s no way for a child to talk,” Travor scolded.

“I’m not a child. I’m a thirty-year-old midget. Remember?”

Travor waited until Cassandra went into the house, then headed for the shed. He had exceptionally good night vision and saw Colleen at the end of the shed where they had piled the fresh green grass they had cut for the cow.

“If you’d rather lie in the grass than take a walk, sweetheart, it’s all right with me.”

Colleen shot past him before he could catch hold of her. She was off and running around the house. Travor knew he’d never be able to catch her, so he darted around the house in the opposite direction. They came together on the corner and both fell to the ground, with Travor rolling so that he wouldn’t fall on her.

The breath was knocked out of him, but he held on to the struggling girl. Her elbow caught him in the ribs and he grunted.

“Dammit! Be still.”

“Let go of me, you … pisspot!”

“I don’t like nasty words coming out of your pretty mouth,” he gritted angrily, turned, and pinned her beneath him.

“It’s no business of yores what I say!”

“Yes it is. Now be still and I’ll let you up.”

Suddenly she stopped struggling. “Let me up.”

“I want to kiss you.”

“Wantin’ and gettin’ is two different thin’s.”

“I won’t take it. I want you to give it to me.”

“Horse-hockey!” she sputtered. “It’ll rain silver dollars first!”

“Ouch! One just dropped on my head.”

Colleen laughed, then broke it off as she realized what she was doing.

“Too bad it wasn’t a rock the size of yore big head.”

“I’ll turn your hands loose if you put your arms around my neck.”

“I’ll put ’em at yore throat,” she snarled.

“Colleen, sweetheart. Be nice. I’ve got to leave in the morning.”

“Be nice? Ya get my back up. Why can’t ya be like Trell?”

“’Cause Trell is Trell and I’m me. Trell has always been the nice one, I’ve been the hellraiser. But I’m tired of ramming around. I want to settle down … with you.”

The weight of his body on hers was not unpleasant. She felt none of the panic she had felt when other men had grabbed her. She searched the face so close to hers. He was quietly staring down at her.

“If I kiss ya, will ya let me up?”

“I said I would and I will. But it’s nice holding you like this. You’re a soft, sweet woman, Colleen McCall.”

“Murphy.”

“Someday you’ll be Colleen McCall and I’ll hold you in my arms all night long, touch you all over, kiss you—”

“Ya think yo’re the only rooster in the henhouse, don’t ya?”

“Can you feel my heart pounding against your bosom? It’s racing like a runaway horse … because of you.”

“I thought it was the silver dollars fallin’ on yore back.”

When he laughed she could feel the movement against her breasts and the small puffs of his breath on her face.

“Thank God, I found you. Until now I’ve not been living; just existing. Now I have something to live and work for.”

“I’ve … kissed lots a fellers,” she lied. “But didn’t marry ’em.”

“Maybe. But you’ll kiss only me from now on.”

As Travor lowered his head, she lifted her lips to meet his. It was like no kiss he’d ever had before. After the first touch, her lips were as eager as his. For an endless time he held her clamped to him, desperate in his hunger to feel every inch of her.

When he realized that her arms were wrapped about his neck, joyous laughter bubbled in his throat.

“You’re more than I ever dreamed of, my darlin’ Irish Colleen,” he murmured between frantic kisses. “Sweetheart, I’ve never said these words before … not even to my blessed mother, but I’ll say them to you. I love you, darlin’ girl. I love you.” The words trailed off as his mouth traced the pattern of love on hers.

“Travor.” His name came shivering from her throat. “Please don’t say somethin’ you don’t mean. I don’t know ya and ya don’t know me. I always swore I’d never get mixed up with a triflin’ man.”

“I know you. And someday soon … I’ll know you better.” His lips moved over her face. “I want to be with you forever, live with you. Be your mate. I’ll take care of you and Granny. But I’ve got to know if you love me.” He waited in an agony of suspense for her answer.

“I … think I do. I’ve never felt like this about … anyone. I must love ya or ya wouldn’t make me so … mad.”

Their lips caught and clung and smiled against each other. They laughed intimately, and their fingers moved over each other’s faces.

“I shaved. I was determined to kiss you and I didn’t want to scratch your pretty face.”

“How’d ya know I’d let ya?”

“I didn’t,” he whispered against her cheek. “But I hoped.”

“Why me, Travor?”

“Because I like everything about you; the way you look, your independent spirit, the way you are with me.”

“Why’d ya wink at me that day and not Jenny? We thought ya was Trell. Her feelin’s was hurt, and I was madder than a steer with its tail caught in the fence.”

“I was in the hotel across from the store and watched you load the supplies in the wagon. I couldn’t keep from lookin’ at ya. Yo’re pretty in a dress, but just as pretty in overalls.”

“Don’t … trifle with me.” Her voice quivered.

“I won’t … I’m not. I swear it on my mother’s grave.” His whispered vow brushed past her ear.

“I want to believe ya.”

“Do ya want lots of younguns? I do. Trell and I were all our folks had together. Pa had a boy before he married Ma. She had Pack before she married Pa. We’ll make beautiful babies together, sweetheart. I hope they have your eyes.”

“There won’t be a blond-headed one in the bunch.” Colleen laughed happily and stroked the inky black hair from his forehead.

Travor kissed her with hunger. Her ragged breath was trapped in her mouth by his plundering kiss. Her mouth was warm, sweet beyond imagination. His hand roamed over her, caressing every inch of her back and sides. The long fingers on one hand cupped her rounded breast while the other shaped itself over her lean buttocks and held her tightly to his aroused body.

He moved his mouth from hers and took great gulps of air.

“Colleen, sweetheart, I’d better stop while I can.”

He pulled her up. They sat with their backs to the house, his arms around her, her head on his shoulder. They talked of their hopes and dreams, shared secrets, and intimate kisses.

It was more than three hours before Travor took her to the house. They opened the door and found Granny’s chair empty.

Chapter Twenty-two

Arvella’s nerves were stretched to the breaking point by the time her father’s buggy came into the yard behind the store. The past couple of weeks she had tried to keep thoughts of her father and Alvin in the back of her mind during the time she spent with the kindest man she had encountered since she became an adult.

The friendship with Pud Harris began the day he had come to the house and found her crying. A few mornings after that, he had called to her from the back door.

“Miss Arvella, come out to the barn. I got somethin’ to show ya.”

“Can’t you bring it here?”

“No. Ya gotta come out.”

“I don’t ever go … out—”

“Then it’s time ya did. Come on. It’ll not take but a minute.”

Grateful for the kind attention he had shown to her and not wanting it to end, she stepped out into the bright sunlight. It felt strange walking on the uneven ground and being outside the safe walls of the house. Without the solid figure of Pud beside her, she would have been terrified. She was sure a hundred eyes were watching her. She wanted to flee back into the house, but she didn’t dare for fear that he would ridicule her for being afraid.

She followed him into the dim, cool, smelly barn. At the far end Pud stopped at a stall and rubbed the nose of a blaze-faced sorrel that nickered a greeting.

“How’er ya doin’, Lady?”

Arvella hung back. She was not fond of horses. They scared her.

“Come look,” Pud urged.

Arvella looked into the stall to see a newborn foal standing on shaky legs next to its mother.

“She was born about an hour ago.” Pud continued to stroke the mother’s nose.

“And she can stand already?”

“She was on her feet in a matter of minutes.” Pud’s broad face creased with a grin. “That’s nature’s way of lettin’ her protect herself against somethin’ that’d want to brin’ her down. She’ll be runnin’ by tomorrow.”

“Is she yours?”

“I brought her out here when the old man told me to come stay. I knew she was about ready to foal. Ain’t she a beauty?”

“She sure is. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a foal this young.”

“I thought you’d like to see her.”

“What’s her name?”

“Her mama’s name is Lady. I haven’t put a name to the baby. Ya got one in mind?”

“I’m not good … at—”

“Think about it. We don’t have to name her right off.”

After that Arvella went to the barn sometimes twice a day to visit the foal. Pud’s words stuck in her mind. “
We
don’t have to name her right away.” When they spoke of a name for the foal again, she suggested that they name her Rosemary.

Pud was pleased with Arvella’s interest in things outside the house. Within a week she was going to the chicken house, the barn, or to the garden. She didn’t seem to be quite so breathless now when she walked beside him.

Arvella knew that Pud would be sent back to Sweetwater if her father suspected she took any pleasure from his company. She also knew that it was wicked to detest her papa and to wish him and Alvin dead. She’d never kill them. She didn’t even have the nerve to talk back to him or refuse to do his bidding. In his presence she was completely spineless.

Until she was fourteen years old, Arvella had seen her father only once or twice a year. Then he had come to her grandparents’ house and taken her away after her mother died. She had not known then why she had been taken from her beloved grandparents. She understood now that it was the money he had expected her to inherit when they died.

The grandparents had lived another five years. During that time Arvella and her father had made frequent visits to the old folks in order to ensure that she would inherit the bulk of their enormous estate. But it had not been left to her. It was put in a trust for her firstborn son with the boy’s legitimate father as executor.

The terms of the will had infuriated Longfellow but had not deterred him from his purpose. He had set out to find Arvella a husband, one that he could control. He had chosen Alvin Havelshell and demanded that they produce a son.

Arvella had been a shy plump girl but a talented cook and housekeeper. Her father’s constant harping on her looks and inability to socialize had so eroded her self-esteem that she turned to cooking and eating for comfort. Her weight had ballooned as had her father’s contempt and criticism. With a look or a word he was able to make her feel as lowly as a worm and as insignificant as a fly on the wall.

This morning Linus had come to tell her that her father was on his way and that he had Frank Wilson with him.

“Oh, dear! I’m a mess … the kitchen isn’t clean and … he’ll want dinner—”