Travis (10 page)

He looked exhausted as he leaned back against the tree. She had to squelch an urge to stroke his weathered face, brush his wet black hair out of his dark eyes.

The boys came back with a string of fish and she fried them along with hush puppies made from the cornmeal.

They ate and as it grew dark, the children settled down around the sleeping Travis as if, instinctively, they knew he would protect them. She banked the fire and cleaned up the pans and dishes; then she took a cup of coffee and went over to sit beside him. In a minute, she would check his arm, but right now, she was enjoying the peace and security of the moment. She watched him in the glow of the crackling fire, pretending he was her man and these were her children. It was a nice dream and she imagined what it would be like to snuggle down next to him in the security and safety of his powerful arms. Men had always hurt her and used her, but she wasn’t afraid of Travis. The Texan wasn’t like the other men she had known. Tears came to her eyes as she wished things were different and that she could meet him again under different circumstances. He seemed to be a proud man, and she was certain he would be horrified if he found out she’d been a whore. She longed for a brand-new start and she’d like to make that with Travis.

Abruptly she heard a horse whinny and looked up even as Growler started barking.

Two men rode over the crest of the hill and down toward the river. Violet took a deep breath. They were tough-looking men who looked like they had ridden long and hard.

By now, Travis was sitting up and the kids were all awake. Little Bonnie had crawled into his lap.

Violet looked at the two as they rode into camp. Where were Travis’s guns? Probably in the wagon.

“Hello the camp!” one of the men yelled. “Can we get down?”

Travis said, “Where you from and where you bound?” The tension in his voice let Violet know he was suspicious.

“Well, that ain’t too hospitable for Texans.” The men reined in. “You got some coffee?”

“We got some,” Violet said and got up to get more tin cups. The two men sat their horses, staring at her like the men in the Diamond Horseshoe did. It made her skin crawl.

Both men looked rough, like they’d ridden a long way. They looked around as they dismounted.

“Well, girlie, you at least seem friendly.” The bearded one leered at her.

“She’s just a kid,” Travis warned.

“Old enough for me,” the bearded one laughed.

She was scared now, scared of the way the men were looking at her and what Travis might do. She didn’t want the kids to get hurt. She handed each of the men a cup of the steaming brew.

Travis put Bonnie down on the blanket and stood up. “You didn’t say where you’re from or where you were headed.”

The shorter man glared at Travis as if sizing him up. “No, we didn’t. Don’t figure it’s none of your business, clod-buster.”

Limpy said, “He ain’t a clod-buster, he’s—”

“Hush,” Travis ordered. “You men drink your coffee and ride on.”

“Tonight?” the bearded one said, sipping from his tin cup. “We’re tired and we thought your fire looked inviting—”

“Make your own fire,” Travis thundered. “Now you drink your coffee and git!”

“All right, all right!” the short one mumbled. “Ain’t very friendly for Texans.”

They stood up slowly, threw the grounds in the fire and tossed the cups to one side. Travis glared at them and the kids seemed to hold their breaths as the men backed toward their horses. “We didn’t mean no harm.”

“Keep riding,” Travis ordered.

“That’s a mighty fine gray, you got there.” The short one licked his lips. “Would you be interested in—”

“No, I wouldn’t.” Travis stood there, feet wide apart. Limpy had come up behind Travis now and handed him his rifle. Travis cocked it. “You two get gone.”

“We didn’t mean no trouble,” the short one whined. The two mounted up and took off at a lope down the river.

Violet stared after them until they were out of sight. Then she heaved a sigh of relief and walked over to Travis. “That was scary, Mr. Prescott. I’m glad they’re gone.”

The children began to laugh and talk.

Travis signaled for silence. “They may be gone, but they’ll be back.”

Violet felt her heart stop. “Are you sure?”

Travis nodded. “We’ve got something they want.”

“Mouse,” Limpy said.

Travis looked directly into Violet’s eyes. “Him, too.”

They wanted her. The knowledge sent a chill down her back.
Don’t be stupid, Violet
, she told herself.
You’ve bedded dozens of men like them. What’s two more?

Because she never wanted another man to touch her except Travis, and he would stand his ground to protect her, maybe even give his life, she thought, because he believed she was an innocent kid. She ought to tell him she wasn’t worth a gunfight, but she didn’t want him to know her secret past. She wished she were as fresh and unstained as the Ranger thought she was.

Travis motioned them all closer. “Listen up and listen careful. Here’s what we’re gonna do: we’re gonna pile our blankets up like we’re asleep and then we’re gonna sneak off into those sand dunes by the river. Harold, get the rest of the weapons.”

“None of us know how to shoot,” Harold protested.

“If you’re gonna be Texans, it’s time you learn,” he snapped.

Violet said, “What can I do to help?”

He looked at her. “Violet, can you handle a gun?”

“Not really.”

“All right, you take the girls and hide in that grove of sand plum bushes over there until we scare them off.”

Limpy shifted his crutch and took the pistol. His thin face looked pale. “I’ll do the best I can, Travis.”

“That’s all any Texan can do. You’re gonna make a fine man someday, Limpy. Now y’all do what I said and settle down.”

Violet picked up Bonnie. “You sure they’ll come back?”

Travis nodded. “Can you be brave and take the girls and run if we lose this?”

She took a deep breath. “I—I’ve got a little knife in my garter. I’ll kill one if they try to hurt the girls.”

He gave her a questioning look, but she decided this wasn’t the time to explain why an innocent young girl might be carrying a knife.

She took Kessie by the hand and the trio melted into the darkness of the sand plum bushes.

Travis watched them go, then turned to the boys. “All right, men.”

“We ain’t men,” Harold said. “We’re just boys and they know it.”

“In Texas, boys turn into men pretty early or they don’t make it. Besides, we’ve got to protect the girls.”

“Sure,” Limpy said.

“Good. Now you two help me pile the blankets up like we’re all asleep and then move over on the other side of the fire behind those sand dunes. If they come back, we’ll catch them in a cross fire.”

Limpy asked, “Can you handle a gun, Travis?”

Travis hesitated. “With my wrist? I’m not sure, but we don’t have to kill them, we only have to scare them into running like scalded hounds. You afraid?”

The boys hesitated.

“Yeah,” answered Limpy finally.

“If you’re going to grow up to be a cowboy or a Texas Ranger, there’s one thing you need to know.” Travis checked his pistol.

“What?” Harold asked.

“A brave man is a man who knows the danger but keeps on coming. That’s a Texas Ranger for you. Now get over there and keep quiet. It may be awhile before they come back.”

The boys obeyed and Travis crouched down behind a small rise where he could watch the fire. His wrist was throbbing like it had been touched with a red-hot branding iron, and he cursed himself that he was so vulnerable when the kids needed him so much. He’d seen the way those desperados had looked Violet over and he wasn’t about to let them take her for their lust. He’d die first.

He had almost dozed off in spite of himself when he heard the slight sound of a horse stepping on a breaking twig and Growler snarled softly. “Hush up,” Travis ordered and grabbed the dog’s muzzle.

Then he heard the unmistakable sound of a boot stepping on rocks. Of course, being half Comanche, he had keener hearing than most men. He could only hope the boys were awake and ready for this attack.

He saw shadowy silhouettes as the pair of outlaws crouched and sneaked along the ridge, coming down near the fire. They paused and the short one laughed softly. “I told you they wouldn’t think we’d come back,” he whispered.

“Shut up!” the other ordered. “We want that horse and that girl.”

“We kill the rest?”

“Hell, yes. Let’s not leave no witnesses.”

Travis stood up suddenly and shouted, “Git ’em, boys!” and fired his pistol.

At the same time, Harold and Limpy let loose with a barrage of rifle fire.

“I’m hit!” the bearded one screamed.

“Let’s get the hell out of here!” yelled the other, and they turned and ran over the hill.

Travis had fallen to his knees in such agony that he dropped the pistol. If they came back now, with his wrist throbbing and his hand paralyzed, they could kill him. He realized he was useless as a man and a Ranger.

Violet waited a long moment until she heard the two horses galloping away, and then she left the two little girls behind the plum bushes and ran to find Travis. “Are you all right?”

“Sure,” he said, but she saw the sweat gleaming on his dark face in the moonlight. She fell down on her knees beside him.

“Is it your wrist?”

He nodded and she saw he was gritting his teeth. “You got any of that whiskey left?”

“Well, I do have a few drops,” she confessed. “I’ll get it.” She ran to the wagon and searched around a moment before she came back with it. “You want I should pour it on your wound?”

“Hell, no, I need a drink.”

She pulled the cork out and handed it to him. “I reckon you got a right to curse.”

“Damn right, I feel like I’ve been bit by a rattler.” He took a deep gulp. “I reckon I was foolin’ myself that my wrist would heal up.”

She wanted to reach out and comfort him, he sounded so bereft, but she stopped herself. “It isn’t the end of the world.”

“It is if you’re a Ranger or a cowman. A Texan’s got to be able to shoot.” He took another sip. “You can call the kids in now. I don’t think those hombres will come back.”

Limpy and Harold crossed over to them.

“That was scary,” Limpy said.

“But you boys didn’t turn tail and run.” Travis nodded. “That was mighty brave.”

“We couldn’t let them hurt the girls,” Harold said.

Kessie came up to them, leading Bonnie by the hand. “Us girls can take care of ourselves,” she snapped. “We just need to be taught to shoot.”

Travis grinned at her. “You’re right, Red, and I’ll teach you how to shoot, but right now, we need to get some rest so we can move on.”

“Maybe I need to stand guard,” Limpy suggested.

Travis shook his head. “They won’t come back. Which reminds me, I promised you a new name; Limpy seems bad for a brave Texan.”

The tall, thin boy smiled. “What?”

“I think you ought to be named for one of Texas’s bravest and most famous sons, Sam Houston. How does ‘Houston’ sound to you?”

“Houston.” Limpy savored the name. “I like it. You hear, everyone? From now on, I’m not Limpy, I’m Houston.”

“Now let’s get some sleep,” Travis ordered. “If I remember correctly, there’s a town only a few miles south of the river. We’ll ride in there in the morning.”

Everyone settled down, but Travis picked up his rifle and leaned against a boulder. If those rascals did come back, he’d be ready for them and anyway, he was too sad to sleep. He now had to face the fact that there was no hope for him as a Ranger. The doctor in Red Rock had been right; his wrist would keep him from being a fast gun. He had no idea what to do with his life or these five kids who were counting on him.

He watched the firelight play on Violet’s brown pigtails as she slept. She was a brave, gritty kid and he had to admit he liked having her around. In fact, he was getting used to all the kids. Too bad he couldn’t keep them, but it was loco for a bachelor with no home and no money to think about adopting five kids. Maybe in this next town, he could find good families to take them in and he and his dog could drift on, but he’d have to admit he’d be lonelier than he had been since the kids had joined him.

The next morning they started off again and in the distance, Travis saw the town he remembered. “Hey, kids, there’s a town up ahead. We’ll pull in there.”

Harold looked at him, distress in his big almond eyes. “You aren’t going to give us away, are you?”

“Not unless I find some really nice families,” Travis assured him.

Bonnie immediately set up a howl, and Violet gave him a murderous look. “Now look what you’ve done.”

“I was only being honest,” Travis answered. “She’d be so much better off with a family of her own.”

“We got a family of our own,” Kessie said.

“I reckon we do,” Travis sighed, “but I got no way to feed five kids and anyway, I’m a loner. You need a better father than me.”

Violet looked up at him with those large, sad eyes. “If we can find a way to make some money, could we all stay together?”

“I wish we could, but I can’t make it as a Ranger anymore with this bad arm.”

Violet said. “Maybe your wrist will heal on its own.”

“Maybe.” He hoped so, but in the meantime . . .

They drove into town with little Bonnie crying at the top of her lungs.

An old man turned around from loading a wagon. “What are you doing to that baby? You been beatin’ her?”

“No,” Travis said, now aware of how many people were turning to look at the wailing toddler on the front seat of the wagon. He rode up next to Violet and under his breath, he muttered, “For God’s sake, can you make her stop?”

“No,” Violet snapped. “She’s afraid you’re going to give her away.”

More people were turning to glare at the motley crew with the wailing toddler.

“Why’s that child crying?”

“That man hitting that baby?”

The men glowering at him along the street looked like they could turn into a lynch mob. Travis reined in in front of the general store and dismounted. “Violet, stop that oxcart and take all the other kids in for some peppermint sticks.”

Immediately, Bonnie stopped crying. “Candy,” she laughed. “Come, doggie.”

Travis took a deep breath as all five trooped into the general store along with Growler.

“Hey,” yelled a man’s voice from inside, “you can’t bring a dog in here.”

Immediately, Bonnie began to wail again and Travis heard Violet say, “You better let her, mister, or she’ll scream loud enough to wake the dead.”

“All right, all right.”

Travis tied up his horse at the water trough next to the ox and wished he had a cold beer. There was surely a saloon in town, but of course he had the kids to think about and not much money. So instead, he sat on the store’s step and rolled a cigarette. He remembered this town now from early cattle drives with his dad: Pleasant Valley. He looked up and down the main street as he smoked. A railroad track ran right down the middle of the dusty street. Besides the general store, he saw a small hotel and a saloon across the street, along with a livery stable and a gun shop. The train station was on his side of the street along with the sheriff ’s office and a bank. Not much of a town, but there were a few houses scattered around and a sleeping hound laying out near the railroad tracks.

A plump old man with a star on his vest stopped and looked down at him. “You plannin’ on stayin’? We don’t get many new folks in town.”

Travis grinned up at him and shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“I’m Sheriff McClain.” He held out a meaty paw.

Travis stood up and shook it. “This a peaceful place?”

The sheriff nodded. “Only excitement mostly is when the southbound train comes through about four in the afternoon and the northbound train comes through about seven in the evening, but they hardly ever stop, except to pick up cows or drop off freight. Not many people get off or get on in Pleasant Valley.”

“Sounds fine to me. Any work around?”

“I hear old Mr. Jensen might be lookin’ for a part-time clerk. He owns the gun shop. You know anything about guns?”

“A little,” Travis said. There was no point in mentioning he had been a Texas Ranger. “Got a school here?” Travis looked up and down the main street.

“Yep, off there to the west. There’s a big park next to it, too.” The old man pointed. “We also got a church and a library.” His face was proud.

“I remember when this was a busy cattle drive town,” Travis said.

“Yep, well, the town’s gotten a little sleepier since then with the cattle all being shipped by train, but cowboys from nearby ranches still come into town on weekends and we have the best Fourth of July celebration in the entire county.”

“That a fact?” An idea began to build in Travis’s mind as he smoked. He was finished as a Ranger, and he was weary of drifting. Maybe he could get a job here and put the kids in school until he could find good homes for all five, although the longer they were with him, the more he hated to give them up. Maybe he might even meet a nice girl and get married, give his little brood a mother.

“You look into that job at the gun shop, you hear?” Sheriff McClain touched the brim of his Stetson with two fingers and moved on as Travis nodded.

Violet and the four younger children came out of the general store followed by Growler. The kids were all licking candy sticks. Little Bonnie held hers out to him. “Wanta lick?”

Travis grinned at her. She had candy all over her face. “Think I’ll pass,” he answered. “What I’d really like is a beer—”

“Mister Prescott.” Violet’s eyes turned a cold blue. “Are you a drunkard?”

“No, I’m not,” he denied, “but just one cold beer—”

All the children paused and looked up at him.

He remembered then that they were short on money. “Never mind. Let’s camp in this town tonight and decide what to do later.” He sat back down on the wooden step.

Violet smiled. “It looks like a nice town and we’re all tired of traveling. Why don’t we stay?”

“Maybe not, young lady. I’m the grown-up here, and I haven’t decided yet—”

Kessie nodded. “Looks like a good town to me.”

Bonnie crawled up into Travis’s lap and kissed him on the cheek, leaving sticky peppermint on his face. “Stay,” she said. “Doggie wants to stay.”

Travis laughed. “Well, that settles it then. If Growler wants to stay, I reckon we might.”

It made him feel good when all the kids smiled.

“I hear there’s a park down the street.” He pointed west. “Now you all take the oxcart and go down there and rest. I’ll see what I can do about a job.”

The kids got in the oxcart with Violet driving while he mounted up on his gray stallion. Growler jumped up on the wagon seat in Bonnie’s lap. As they started down the street, people came to the doors of small shops and houses to look out at them, obviously curious about new people in town. When they passed the saloon, loud piano music blared out the swinging doors and hung on the warm air. The faded sign read:
CATTLE DRIVE SALOON.
With its peeling paint and dirty windows, it had seen better days, Travis thought.

With the wagon headed for the park, Travis rode up to the gun shop and dismounted, tied Mouse to the hitching rail and went in. It smelled of gunpowder and pipe tobacco. An elderly gentleman smoking a pipe stood behind the counter. “What can I do for you, stranger?”

“Are you Mr. Jensen??”

The old man nodded and took the pipe out of his mouth. “Sure am.”

“I’m Travis Prescott.” He held out his hand. “Heard you might be looking for help.”

They shook hands. “Sure am. Store’s too much for me to be here all day, my age, you know. Need a good man who knows guns. Town’s sleepy, but cowboys and ranchers always need ammunition and weapons.”

They talked a while.

Finally, the old man nodded. “Travis, I like you. I’d like to have you take over. If it works out, I’ll just pop in now and then and you can run the place.”

“I’ve got a family,” Travis said. “I’ll need a place to live.”

“There’s an abandoned house across the street and down about a block near the railroad station. I reckon you could fix that up. Talk to banker Clay about it.”

“Much obliged, Mr. Jensen.” He started out the door. “We’ll try to get that house livable and then I got to enroll my kids in school. I’ll be in touch.” Travis touched his hat by way of leaving, grinned and walked out to mount his horse. Then he rode out past the old wooden schoolhouse to the park, where the ox was grazing and the kids played by a small lake. He dismounted. “Everything’s all right, kids. I think I found us a house and me a job.”

Violet ran to meet him. “I can hold a job, too.”

Travis shook his head. “I admire your gumption, young lady, but you need to go to school with the other kids.”

“School?” She blinked. She had never really been in a school. The little she knew she had taught herself. “I’m a little old for school,” she said before she thought.

“At thirteen?” Travis laughed. “No, it’s school for you and all these others, Violet. Now let’s go look at the house.”

Curious people watched them as they passed by.

Violet began to think this must be a nice town after all. However, when she saw the house, her spirits fell. It must have been abandoned for a long time.

Kessie said, “This doesn’t look much better than a chicken coop.”

Travis looked through one of the broken windows. “I think you’re right.”

“Oh, it’s not so bad.” Violet managed a smile. “With a little work and some cleaning, we’ll do just fine. Look, here’s an old broom and even some dishes left in the cabinets.”

Growler ran past her, chasing a stray raccoon through the parlor and out the back door. Bonnie toddled into the room and looked around. “Home.” She smiled. “Home.”

“Yes,” said Violet, “we’re home. Now everyone start picking up and we’ll have this place livable in no time.”

“I don’t know.” Travis shook his head. “It’s downright shabby.”

She looked up at him, pleading with her eyes. “Please, Mr. Prescott, we can fix it up and make it a real home.”

Even though she was just a kid, there was something about her that pulled at his heart. “All right, if you kids are willing. I’ll go talk to the banker and you all unload the oxcart and start cleaning.”

She grabbed the old broom. “By dark, we’ll have this place turned into a real home.”

Travis looked doubtful, but he nodded and went out the front door.

She watched him go, liking the way his wide shoulders moved when he walked. “Kids, by the time he gets back, let’s have this place livable. Pick up trash and, Kessie, see if you can do anything with the kitchen.”

“Why do the women always have to do the kitchen?” the redhead griped. “When we get equal rights, men are gonna have to do some of the cooking.”

“But until then, let’s get moving,” Violet said. “You boys get some wood for the fireplace. I don’t know about that kitchen stove.”

“Me,” Bonnie said, trying to take the broom from her. “Me sweep.”

“Here, you can dust, honey.” She put a rag in the toddler’s hand.

Growler lay down in front of the fireplace and watched.

Violet started sweeping. It might not be much of a house, but she was happy. She had been watching Travis over the last few days and decided he was the man for her. He might be a little hard to tame and a little wild, but she could already imagine having children with the half-breed. In her mind, she saw a dark-haired little boy and maybe a girl too. Along with the four children she had picked up at the train station, they would have a large brood. Maybe her past was behind her and Travis need never find out. As far as Duke was concerned, he wasn’t likely to ever find her in this sleepy Texas town.

Travis returned to say he had traded the oxcart and ox to the banker for a six months’ lease on the house, and a cow. “Boys, let’s put the cow and Mouse in that barn out back of the house. Can either of you milk?”

Both boys shook their heads.

“Well, it’s high time you learned.” The three of them went out the back door and soon returned with a foaming pail of fresh milk.

At four o’clock, the train roared through, headed south and then at seven, as it grew dark, the northbound train chugged through, rattling the windows.

“Damn!” Travis complained. “Now I can see why no one wants to live in this house.”

“Mr. Prescott, please don’t cuss,” Violet scolded. “We can stand the train noise, can’t we, kids?”

“Yes!” everyone yelled. “As long as we’re together.”

 

 

By dark, they had the place at least clean enough to make some pallets on the floor. Travis built a fire in the old stone fireplace and all the children settled down in front of it. He watched Violet putting on a kettle of stew and a pan of corn bread to cook in the coals. Soon they’d had all they could eat, washed down with fresh milk, and Growler cleaned up the leftovers.

Travis brought in a pail of water from the well out back and he watched her wash the little girls’ faces while the boys gave themselves a quick wash. He thought how responsible the girl was, at only thirteen. And she was so pretty. If only she were older, he could fall in love with this girl. Then he reminded himself that, after Emily had broken his heart, he’d sworn to never take that chance again. He found an old rocking chair and pulled it up in front of the fireplace and sat down. He smiled and leaned back in his chair with contentment, holding his coffee cup. It was almost as if he were the father and these were really his children.

 

 

Violet sat on the floor near the fire and watched him. She had never felt so safe and protected. This big Ranger was a man she thought she could trust and really make a home with. The only problem was he thought she was a kid, and how could she explain this big lie without him ever finding out her terrible background? “Would you like some more coffee, Travis?”

“Sure.” He held out his cup.