Whispers of Moonlight

by Lori Wick

  She had a good head on her shoulders. She’d been educated in the finest schools. The thought gave him hope, and he even felt like finishing her letter to him. Rebecca chattered on about her social life and ended with how much she loved and missed him, but Andrew read it absently. A plan was forming in his mind.

  Travis rubbed the back of his neck and slapped his hat against his leg in an attempt to dislodge the dust. He was hot and dirty, and all he wanted was a bath, food, and bed—in that order.

  “Some of the boys are going into town tonight,” Grady told Travis as he threw a saddle over the stable wall. “You goin’?”

  Travis’ head came up. He looked at the older man from over the top of his mount and then went back to the task at hand.

  “No, I’m tired of the saddle.”

  “They’ll probably borrow a wagon,” Grady informed him.

  Travis turned slowly and looked at him. “What are you really asking, Grady?”

  After a month of working together, they knew they could both speak their minds.

  “I just thought if you were going in, I wouldn’t have to worry about anyone being shot or thrown in jail.”

  A slow smile stretched across Travis’ mouth. “No thanks, Grady. You’ll have to get someone else to do your babysitting.”

  The older man grunted, but he wasn’t angry. It had been a long week, and he didn’t want to go into town on a Saturday night either. He could hardly blame Travis for sharing the feeling. Lucky had a pretty good head on his shoulders, but he was young enough that none of the other men would listen to him. Nothing more was said, but Grady gave Travis a good-natured thump on the chest when he passed.

  As Travis was leaving the huge barn, he noticed the ranch cook, Biscuit, stepping to the bell in front of the mess hall. It was early for dinner, and the dusty hand would have enjoyed a bath first, but he was hungry. He changed directions and moved to the long, narrow building.

  The bell rang in his ear as he passed.

  “You’re always first in line,” Biscuit snapped at him in his usual cantankerous manner.

  “I don’t know why I bother,” Travis countered from far above Biscuit’s head as he kept moving. “The food is never fit to eat.”

  “Why you—” Biscuit began, but cut off when they were joined by the other men.

  Neither cook nor ranch hand meant any of it. Biscuit and all the men seemed to like Travis enough to give him a hard time. He did his job and was fair and honest. There wasn’t a man on the ranch who didn’t respect him. Travis himself was well-pleased with the job, feeling as though he’d landed on his feet for the winter. The pay was decent, and the living quarters more than adequate. Travis teased Biscuit about the food, but he’d had worse. He had only met the owner a handful of times, but Mr. Wagner seemed to be a fair man as well.

  He would have continued to dwell on Mr. Wagner a little longer had Travis only known he was the topic of conversation in the office right then between the owner of the Double Star and Grady.

  “I know it will be a cold ride, but I want you to go.”

  “All right,” Grady agreed. “Are you going to act as foreman?”

  “No, I want Buchanan to do it.”

  Grady nodded. He would have preferred to send Travis on the cattle drive, but he didn’t mind going. Coming home was worth the time away.

  “Just drive 150 head into the Denver stockyards, see the auction master, and when you have my money in your pocket, get yourself home,” Andrew told him. “We should have moved them earlier, but I think you can still make it before heavy snowfall.”

  “All right. Are you talking to Travis, or am I?”

  “Tell him to come see me.”

  Travis was just finishing his meal when Grady approached. He didn’t bat an eyelash when told that Andrew Wagner wanted to see him, but wished again that he’d been given time to bathe. He made the large ranch house in record time, his long legs eating up the distance, and was surprised at how stark the interior was.

  Needs a woman’s touch. He couldn’t figure out where that thought had come from. Unfortunately, it left him scowling when he met his boss.

  “I hope that frown isn’t for me,” Andrew commented, “but you’ve just come from Biscuit’s cooking, and that could make any man scowl.” He smiled, and Travis smiled in return. “Grady said you wanted to see me, sir.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  Andrew mapped out his wants for the next few weeks. Travis was more than happy to fill in as foreman and take the raise in pay as well. He would be working closer to Mr. Wagner, which suited him fine. He genuinely liked the man. Travis left the ranch house just 20 minutes later, once again applauding himself for landing on his feet.

  2

  Ten days later, Travis sat across the dining room table from Andrew Wagner, knowing it was going to be difficult to have Grady return. A foreman’s life was one of great responsibility, but it also included a few perks: Dining with the boss and enjoying Lavena’s cooking were just two of them.

  “How does the south pasture look?”

  “Excellent.”

  “And the stock—it’s healthy?”

  “Very. No calves left, of course, but the young heifers are already getting fat.”

  Andrew nodded and took another bite of beef.

  “I’ve got pie,” Lavena said by way of greeting. The housekeeper had come from the kitchen to check on them. She was the smallest woman Travis had ever seen, too thin and very short as well. It was impossible to place her age, although her hair was completely gray. She was cantankerous, but Travis still smiled at her. She scowled at him for his efforts, but knowing she was all show, his smile broadened.

  “I’ll have some,” Travis finally said, but Andrew was shaking his head, his face troubled. Lavena frowned at the older man and left them in a hurry. She was back in a few moments. There was no pie plate in her hand, but a tall glass filled with a milky white liquid. She placed the glass before Andrew and then stood at his elbow while he drank.

  “That’ll put you to rights,” she muttered.

  Andrew’s chest heaved with relief, but he didn’t thank her. In a weak voice that was struggling for outrage, he said, “I told you never to do this in front of the men!”

  Lavena snorted. “Haven’t you figured out yet that Travis is the best man you’ve got? Even better than that Grady.”

  With that she stomped from the room, Travis’ pie forgotten.

  An uncomfortable silence fell on them then, and for a moment Travis tried to look anywhere but at his boss. When he glanced at Andrew, however, he found the older man’s eyes on him.

  “I have a daughter,” he stated, his breath still coming a little rough. “She lives back East.”

  Travis only nodded.

  “I’m expecting her soon. If not before winter, then in the spring. She’s a good girl.”

  Again, Travis could only nod, unaware that Andrew had not even heard back from his daughter. The words to his temporary foreman were wishful thinking, but his attacks always drove his mind to the dream of seeing Rebecca.

  A painful silence had once again settled, and Travis struggled to fill it in. “I’m sure she’ll like the territory once she arrives.” Andrew seemed not to have heard him.

  “When she comes on the stage I want you to go for her. I want you to take my best buggy and bring her here safely to the ranch. I’ll let you know the day.”

  Travis nodded one more time and watched as Andrew’s eyes went to his half-eaten plate of food.

  “Are you all right, sir?” Travis asked, although fully expecting to be told to mind his own business. On the contrary, Andrew was pleased with the genuine concern on Travis’ face. His chest still hurt, but he managed a smile. His heart had told him this young man was special.

  “I’ll be fine,” Andrew stated. “You just get Rebecca here to me, and I’ll be fine.”

  “Yes, sir, I’ll do all I can.”

  “Excuse me,” Andrew said, rising heavily from th
e table and moving to the stairs.

  Travis found that he was no longer hungry. He rose as well and moved through the kitchen to thank Lavena. The tiny woman, her head somewhere below his chest, made him sit down and eat the pie he’d missed. She chattered some while he ate, but his mind was elsewhere. He pictured Andrew’s little dark-haired girl, sitting back East and pining for her father. Travis’ heart clenched, and he had to force himself to finish the berry pie.

  The letter began, How could you? and Andrew didn’t know when words had done him more good. His sister was outraged, and Andrew felt like dancing for the first time in years. Rebecca was on her way. He swiftly scanned the letter to see what day she’d turned up missing and to his dismay realized that his daughter might be in the area already. Just two days ago he’d told Travis to stand by, and now he must tell him to get to town.

  “Lavena,” Andrew called as he came from his study. He continued to shout the woman’s name until she materialized.

  “What are you hollering about?” she cranked at him. “I swear you could wake the dead.”

  “What time does the stage come into town?”

  “I don’t know. About 3:00, I guess.”

  It was just past 4:00. Andrew’s heart lurched.

  “Find Travis.”

  “Why, he’s out with the men!”

  “I don’t care. Get him in here now.” The man’s face was turning an alarming red.

  Lavena moved off, muttering under her breath about Andrew putting himself in an early grave, but she did as she was told.

  Andrew’s chest was beginning to pain him. When he was alone, he made himself sit on the chair in the entryway outside his study and breathe deeply. He had never once asked himself how it would feel to have his daughter traveling across the country. Now the thought terrified him. If she never arrived, Hannah’s letter would be right. He would be a no-good skunk. Andrew realized at that moment that he hadn’t even read the whole missive, only glanced over it.

  Leaving the door open so he could hear Lavena’s return, he moved to his desk and sat down to read from the beginning.

  How could you? How could you take her from me? I knew you would never come for her, Andrew. I knew it the day you left, and I determined to give her the life I never had. It took a long time, but she finally stopped missing you. She’s my girl now, Andrew, and I hate you for what you’ve done.

  A no-good skunk is what you are. My heart nearly stopped when I went to her room and found her letter. Just an hour ago it was, but it might as well have been years.

  Andrew paused long enough to look at the date of his sister’s letter: 19 September. Rebecca had been on the road for one-and-a-half weeks. With trains beginning to crisscross the countryside, she could nearly be in the territory. Where was Lavena with Travis? The pain came on so suddenly this time that he gasped. He told himself not to panic, but it was no use. By the time Travis arrived he’d lost all color. “Meet the stage,” he said in a painful whisper.

  Travis took in Andrew’s washed-out features and then glanced up to find Lavena scowling at him.

  “Get him upstairs,” Lavena insisted.

  Making a swift decision to do as she instructed, Travis lifted the older man into his arms and carried him upstairs.

  Andrew gasped, “Why won’t you do as I tell you? You must—” His voice cut off in pain. Travis’ heart was pounding by the time he laid him on the bed. No longer able to stand the anguish in his employer’s eyes, Travis quickly moved back downstairs to his horse and rode into town, completely forgetting he was supposed to take the best buggy.

  Three days later, Travis pulled the buggy up to the hitching post, a little past the stage office, and began his daily vigil. He’d been coming to meet Rebecca’s stage every day and had started to give up hope. Andrew became more agitated with every passing moment. Travis wasn’t sure if the man would make it if he came home empty-handed again. It would have helped to have Grady home, but he was evidently held up in Denver. The pressure on Travis to be all things to Mr. Wagner was not something he enjoyed.

  Travis stepped down from the covered, single-seat buggy and tipped his hat to a woman with a baby, wondering absently if the stage would be as late as it had been the day before. The day was on the cool side, but Travis was sweating. Rebecca Wagner had to be on that stage.

  The underarms of his dark shirt grew damp, and he paced a bit, afraid to wander far. His black-hatted head shot up when he heard the familiar sound of heavy hooves and jingling tack. Only ten minutes late, the stage, pulled by four horses, was moving steadily down the main street of town.

  Four people emerged when the doors were opened. Travis held his breath: They were all men. He saw the stage-office manager speaking to someone inside, and then a small hand came forward to take his. Travis’ heart sank when he saw it was a young woman. He waited a moment longer, thinking Rebecca might have been escorted, but the blonde in the small blue hat was alone. Travis turned back to the buggy.

  “The Double Star?” the manager’s voice carried. “It’s out north of town a few miles.”

  Travis stopped in his tracks and turned back. The stage-office manager had moved on, and the woman’s back was to him as she thanked the driver for retrieving her trunk. Travis walked slowly back and stopped a few feet behind her. He removed his hat and said her name in his soft, deep voice.

  “Miss Rebecca?”

  To his amazement she turned.

  “Yes?”

  Travis’ heart did a flip in his chest as he looked down into the largest brown eyes he’d ever seen. A brown-eyed blonde. Travis blinked.

  “Did you call my name?” she asked, looking very unsure.

  “Yes, yes,” Travis stuttered. “If you’re Rebecca Wagner, your father sent me.”

  “Oh.” She was clearly disappointed and then concerned. “Is Papa all right?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Travis said, hoping it was true. “I’m Travis Buchanan, and your father asked me to come for you. It’s a 45-minute drive to the Double Star.”

  Rebecca smiled suddenly, and Travis found himself out of breath. “I’ve done more riding in the last two weeks than I have my whole life. A few more miles won’t make any difference.”

  “The buggy is this way.” Travis stepped back and wondered that he sounded so normal. Where was the little girl from his imagination?

  “I have a trunk.” Rebecca sounded apologetic, but Travis only nodded, put his hat back on his head, and went to retrieve it. He hefted it easily, wondering how she could have traveled so lightly, and loaded it into the back of the wagon. He turned to find her standing and taking in the town.

  Boulder’s surrounding mountains were far more noteworthy than the town itself, and Travis could well imagine what she might be thinking. He also saw in those moments that she was attracting plenty of attention. It was obvious to anyone with eyes that a lady had come into their midst. Travis swiftly went to her side, his manner unconsciously territorial.

  “This way, Miss Rebecca.” Travis took her arm and she smiled her thanks, not once having noticed that men were stopped on the street. He tried not to stare at her as he helped her into the buggy, but even in her wrinkled navy traveling suit she was a sight for sore eyes. She accidentally knocked the little hat on her head slightly askew, but that only added to her charm. Travis guessed her to be about 18 and swallowed hard over the emotions flooding through him.

  Had she really come all this way on her own? Maybe her sweet smile covered a will of iron or a set of standards that wasn’t as high as her demeanor indicated. However, when he climbed aboard and she turned to smile at him, he knew he was wrong. Her eyes were as artless as a child’s, and in those eyes he suddenly saw a shyness. But he also saw that she liked what she saw in him as much as he did in her. His heart was misbehaving again.

  “I think you’re going to surprise your father,” Travis spoke, having slapped the reins. He worked at keeping his eyes on the road.

  Rebecca turned to look at his p
rofile for a moment and then dutifully put her gaze back to the street.

  “Why is that?”

  “He never once mentioned your age. I’ve been waiting for a little girl to get off the stage.”

  Rebecca laughed, a light, fun sound, her heart soaring because she had heard the compliment and pleasure in his voice.

  “I was just a child when he left,” she said softly. “He must still think I’m eight.”

  Travis had to force himself to keep from looking down the length of her. She was anything but a child now, and for the first time in many years the cowboy’s thoughts turned to hearth and home. The images didn’t last long. Other thoughts were crowding into his mind. For starters, the way Rebecca had come so easily with him. With nothing but his word for who he was, she had climbed into the buggy. Could she really be that trusting? He didn’t think he’d been working for the Double Star long enough for Mr. Wagner to write about him. It was something of a mystery.

  “Did you say how far it was, Mr. Buchanan?” Rebecca suddenly asked.

  “No, but it’s five miles, and you can call me Travis.”

  “Oh, all right. Are there other homes around?”

  “No,” Travis answered, amazed that she didn’t know. “The ranch sits on acres of open range.” As he told her this, his heart grew troubled. From the way Lavena had talked, father and daughter were in constant communication.

  He fell silent, and it was some time before he glanced at his passenger. She was literally drooping in the seat. Travis slowed the horse just slightly, bringing the reins to one hand and putting the other hand on her arm.

  “Lean back, Miss Rebecca, and get comfortable. We have a way to go.”