Texas Rain

by Jodi Thomas

  Mamie nodded. "When she brought it in, I thought I was looking at leather, not dinner."

  Rainey took a bit of the bread. "This is wonderful bread."

  "I was teaching Mamie to play poker, but she doesn't take to the game. You wouldn't want to learn, would you?" She passed Rainey the honey.

  "Thank you, Mrs. Davis," Rainey answered. "And I'd love to learn."

  "Call me Dottie," the widow said. "I've lived here longer than any of the boarders, almost a year. Mamie and I have become friends over my late-night snacks. You don't have to worry about her telling, or Mrs. Vivian coming in. After she locks the doors she locks herself in her room and doesn't come out till morning. I think inside her room she can forget that her big house has renters."

  "What happened to her husband?" Rainey asked as she sipped her tea.

  "I heard once that he left in 'forty-nine. Went out looking for gold. Though Mrs. Vivian claims he's just on a trip to Galveston. Everyone in Austin who knew him said he had quite a temper and was always looking to make fast money."

  The slave nodded. "She acts like he's coming back any day. Ever month she makes me wash and press his clothes 'cause she says he likes them fresh. I swear, they'll all be nothing but rags from the washing if he don't show up soon."

  Dottie shook her head. "He's not any more likely to come back than the French girl, if you ask me. She got dead and he got gone."

  Mamie agreed.

  "Only good thing he ever did was leave Vivian with this house. If he comes back, he'll take it from her," Dottie mumbled. "She better pray he stays gone."

  Mamie shrugged. "She won't let me in her bedroom. Hands me the sheets at the door she does. But I've looked in a few times and seen his things setting around like he just left. She moved all her good furniture in there after he left so none of the boarders would wear it out before he gets back." She picked up her coffee cup and moved away. "She'll be the only one not surprised when he comes back."

  "I'm sorry to be intruding," Rainey whispered to Dottie.

  Dottie smiled. "We're glad of the company. You see, Mamie has to do laundry till late, and I've spent too many nights staying up into the wee hours to go to bed with the chickens. Mamie was just taking a break."

  Rainey relaxed. Around the widow she never had to talk much. Dottie had a way of making one of her stories flow into the next. It was almost dawn when she finally climbed back to the third floor. Over several card games she'd made two friends.

  She slept through breakfast the next morning and didn't mind a bit. She'd enjoyed her midnight company.

  Because she didn't have to bake, she decided to finish Travis's letter. But the tiny room seemed to close in around her. She dressed and walked a block down to one of the cafes where she sold her pies.

  The owner gave her a table in the corner, and Rainey wrote her letter, talking to Travis as if he were sitting across the table from her, listening. When she finished, she walked home feeling as if she'd spent the day with him.

  At the end of her letter about the barmaids' planned crime, she added:

  I enjoyed being with you today. You are as real in my thoughts as those around me. Sometimes I can almost feel your words on my cheek as you stand close to me and whisper as you did at the dance. I wish you had kissed the palm of my hand so I could close my fingers and save it always.

  Then she signed the letter as she had before with an R. She knew she was being very bold, but what did it matter? She'd never see her Ranger again.

  CHAPTER 16

  Travis took his third cup of morning coffee to the porch and studied the weather. Winter played with dried leaves, rushing them from one corner of the yard to another. He smiled, enjoying the crisp air and thinking of the letter he'd received last week. Just a note really and again signed with only R. She'd told him how she hated winter and the cold almost as much as she hated the darkness. She said she made a few friends, then, like it was important, she added that her hair had grown long enough to put up. She wore it with a ribbon around the curls so that it looked much like a bun.

  Leaning against the porch railing to relieve the strain on his leg from standing, Travis tried to remember her hair and wondered if it stayed curly when it grew. He laughed. He'd spent so much time the past ten years trying to stay alive, he realized how a woman's hair grew had never crossed his mind. But it did now. Everything about his fairy woman drifted in his thoughts. If he had time today he'd write her that he'd like to feel her hair in his fingers. The moment the thought entered his head, he realized it wasn't a longing, but a need. With each day and each letter he needed to touch her a little more. The letters filled his thoughts, but he craved more. He longed to feel her in his arms. If he wrote how dearly he wanted her, she'd probably never write him again.

  Martha clomped onto the porch. "Cold out here," she complained to no one. "My bones are getting so old that the only place I'm comfortable from November to May is by the stove."

  Travis straightened. "Problem?" He knew she wouldn't be out here pestering him unless she needed something. "The boy all right?"

  Martha nodded. "Sage has him in the kitchen making cookies. He's eating more than he's making. She's singing to him and he loves it. If I were guessing, I'd say maybe he remembers his mother singing to him."

  Travis relaxed, glad the kid they all called Duck wasn't in trouble. He didn't seem to know how to play, but he loved to explore. He could climb like a monkey. Twice they'd had to get the ladder and pull him down from the logs crossing at the ceiling in the main room. The first time Sage gave him a bath, he whimpered like a pup. The second time, he escaped. By the time they got him down, Sage decided to save bathing for another day.

  Martha pulled her shawl around her and shivered. "I hate to ask, Travis, but…"

  "What is it?" He knew she spoke the truth, she did hate to ask for any kind of help. He also knew he'd be doing what she requested if it were in his power.

  "Teagen and most of the men are working a downed fence in the north corral," she said.

  Travis already knew about the fence. The last storm had done major damage. The chances were slight any horse would leave Whispering Mountain land, but this time of year it was safer to keep the stock corralled. It would take several days of hard work, but the fence had to be rebuilt as fast as possible. They didn't just raise horses, they raised the best in Texas.

  Martha continued. "Tobin is in the barn with two mares who were hurt when they got into the rocks during the rain. He said one could foal any day."

  Travis also knew every detail of Tobin's problems. One of the mares might have to be put down if Tobin didn't watch the cuts and keep them clean.

  "So." He turned to Martha. "You need my help." It appeared he was the only one left.

  She nodded. "With Sage making cookies every day, I need supplies. I noticed you've been handling the wagon around the place and wondered if you're up to a run to town."

  "I am." Travis knew he'd probably hurt like hell when he got home, but it would be good to see something other than the inside of the place and the view from the porch. His leg had finally grown strong enough to make it the few steps into Elmo's without a cane. "With one stipulation. I go alone."

  Martha understood. Sage loved riding along, but if she went, Duck wouldn't stay with Martha, so he'd have to ride along, too. Travis left it up to Martha to talk Sage into staying.

  Thirty minutes later, with Martha's list in his pocket, Travis pulled out of the yard and headed to the trading post. The morning was cold, but the sky clear. He'd have no problems with the weather, and with the two rifles beneath his seat, he'd ensured he would be prepared for any trouble that he might encounter. This part of the country had been safe the past few years, but now and again some "down on his luck" cowhand would try a robbery.

  Travis made it to Anderson Trading Post with no trouble. Tobin had added a brace on the floor of the wagon a week ago so that Travis could rest his bad leg, and Sage made a pad out of deer hide for the bench. He s
till needed his cane to walk most of the time, but Travis no longer looked like a cripple.

  However, he was thankful no one sat out on Elmo's porch when he pulled up. He could take his time climbing from the wagon, and once inside he could buy the boy clothes while Elmo loaded the wagon. With luck, Elmo would go back inside before Travis had to lift himself up on the bench for the ride home.

  The plan worked. He climbed back on the seat just as Elmo came out to load the last box.

  "Good to see you up and about!" Elmo yelled from the back of the wagon. "How's the boy they brought in from up north last month? You McMurrays letting him out of the cage yet?"

  Travis twisted as much as he could on the wagon seat. "He's doing great. The first week he wouldn't get two feet from me without throwing a fit, but Sage bribed him with cookies. Now he's running all over the place. He usually spends his mornings helping Tobin in the barn."

  Elmo leaned on the wagon. "He talk?"

  "Not a word. I'm not sure he even understands much English. If the boy ever knew it, he's forgotten. We're guessing he's almost four, so he must have been captured before he was two. From what I saw he was treated more like a dog than a boy while he was captured."

  "Any hint as to where he might have come from?"

  Travis shook his head. "Unless he can say something, we may never know. He's not dumb, though. Seems to understand a few words in both Spanish and Apache. He likes to sit by the fire, but won't get too near a horse. Tobin's working with him, trying to get him to stand a few feet closer to the corral every day, but he seems happiest when all is silent and he's close to the fire."

  Elmo laughed. "He aughta be right at home with you boys. Ain't one of you'll pass more than a few minutes talking."

  Travis didn't answer or take offense. He figured Elmo was just stating a fact. The McMurrays had never had much to say to outsiders.

  The trading post owner headed back toward the store, then turned. "I almost forgot. You got another letter from that Sam fellow in the San Marcos settlement. Must be a good friend. This is the third or fourth one in less than two months."

  Years of watching his every move, every emotion, kept Travis from yelling or reaching too fast for the letter.

  Elmo took his time handing it over, examining the envelope as if it held a clue. "What do you reckon a man would have on his mind to write so many letters?"

  "I wouldn't know." Travis took the paper and shoved it into his pocket. "You pack the boy clothes?"

  Elmo nodded, then waited, as if hoping for more information about the letter.

  "I'd better be getting back." Travis circled the wagon and headed toward Whispering Mountain. He didn't look back. He knew the trading post owner was watching from his porch. He also knew he and the letter would be the topic of conversation around the stove for the next few days.

  He thought of waiting until he got home to open the letter, but knew there would be the unloading of supplies, and by then Martha would have lunch ready. Sage would follow him around asking questions. She'd want to know who he saw and what he said. Sundays were her only day to go visiting, and she usually didn't leave the ranch without one of the brothers tagging along complaining about a need to get back before they even left the property.

  Travis touched the letter in his pocket. He'd written her four times in the past month. Mostly, he talked of the boy. There were so many things he wanted to say. Questions he wanted to ask. Each letter he felt he'd be a little more honest. In a strange way they were getting to know each other on paper.

  With a sudden jerk Travis stopped the wagon. He could wait no longer. Glancing around to make sure no one followed, he pulled the letter from his pocket. He told himself not to let the little woman he hardly knew matter to him, but it was too late. She did matter.

  Travis swore. She'd lied to him about everything, including her name. She'd stolen two horses out from under his nose and run when he'd told her to stay. He laughed. "Sounds like the perfect woman for me," he mumbled as he opened the letter.

  My dear Travis. She used his first name as if they were friends and the dear as if she cared for him. Travis smiled. He would do the same if he knew her name. Strange how he knew the feel of her and not her name. He read further.

  At first her account of the two women plotting a murder appeared humorous. Women planning to kill some no-good man didn't seem like it would be all that unusual a conversation. He could almost picture his fairy woman curled up in her bed by the window as she listened.

  Then it occurred to him that if the barmaids were serious, and R. had overheard them, she might be in real danger. He'd noticed over the years that once a person kills, it's not all that hard to kill again.

  He reread the letter. She'd left no hint as to where she was, but he knew it could not be anywhere near San Marcos. Unless the settlement had experienced a grand growing spurt, there was no alley where saloons framed in one side and three-story homes were on the other side.

  Travis folded the letter into his pocket and drove home. By the time he reached Whispering Mountain, he'd made up his mind about two things. One, Miss R. could be only one place close enough and big enough to fit her writing… Austin. And two, he planned to be on his way there by morning. The least he could do was find her and warn her.

  He might not be able to handle a horse yet, but he could manage a wagon. The trip would take longer, but it made more sense than staying at the ranch spending his days worrying about his fairy.

  All he had to do was come up with a reason to leave, and it had to be something besides mentioning the letters.

  By dawn the next morning his plan had a few problems. He'd explained that night at supper that since he'd read all the books on law for the state and he'd been enforcing those laws for ten years, he planned to take one of the wagons to Austin and sit for the state bar exam. All he needed was for a district judge to call together a panel of practicing lawyers who would ask him questions. If he made it past the panel, he could serve a short internship and then begin his own practice. Judge Gates had been trying to talk him into doing just that for several years. Maybe it was time he listened to the old man. Or, Travis thought, used the bar as an excuse to go to Austin.

  While his leg healed, he had to do something, and Travis explained that becoming a lawyer would be as good a way to spend his time as sitting on the porch watching the weather.

  No one in the family thought his plan sound. They also didn't hesitate to say so. Sage thought he should wait until spring when the weather would be better. Tobin said if he waited a month then the two horses he had to deliver would be ready and he'd go along. Teagen saw no need for a lawyer in the family. In fact, he pointed out that most of the lawyers he met spent more time trying to break laws rather than uphold them. Travis would only be putting himself in rotten company by passing the bar.

  When his siblings saw they were getting nowhere, Sage switched strategies. "If you think you have to go now, and you're taking a wagon anyway, I might as well go along, too. All of you have said I could go to Austin as soon as I grew up."

  Teagen stood up from the table and tossed his napkin down. "Whatever for?"

  Sage jumped and faced him as if they were the same height. "Because I'm tired of waiting around for the perfect man to accidentally fall onto the property. I'm almost nineteen and haven't even met a man I'd consider marrying, much less one who likes me. Maybe if I go to the capital, I'll bump into one."

  All three brothers ganged up on her. They shouted all the obvious holes in her plan. She was too young. Austin was a wild town with almost a thousand people. It could snow, or rain, and they'd be stuck by the side of the road. They could be robbed.

  Sage faced them all. "I'm not too young. I'm almost an old maid. Teagen, you and Tobin can't leave the ranch right now, but I could ride along with Travis. If there's trouble, I could help." She dared one of them to argue.

  Travis opened his mouth, but Duck caught his eye before he could say anything. The kid had been playing wi
th a ball on the stairs, but he now stood facing Travis with a look of terror in his eyes.

  Before Travis could say a word, the boy ran toward him. He'd somehow sensed Travis was talking about leaving.

  As he did several times a day, Travis leaned and lifted Duck up. Though they'd fed him for weeks, he still weighed nothing. It had taken over a week for the boy to let Travis out of his sight, and now he held to Travis as he had that first night. His little bony arms circled Travis's neck as if they didn't plan to ever let go.

  Tobin moved closer and whispered, "He's afraid you're going to leave him behind."

  The argument about Sage going to Austin was forgotten as they all realized their yelling had frightened Duck.

  "He'll be all right here at the ranch." Travis said the words, but he didn't believe them any more than the others did.

  "He'll run," Tobin warned. "I can feel it. If you're not here, he'll run just like he did when the Germans tried to keep him."

  Travis didn't have to close his eyes to see the cage. The memory of Duck's small hand gripping the bars would forever stain his mind. He wouldn't… couldn't… allow anyone to chain the boy up, not ever again. He wanted to go help his fairy woman. He wanted to make sure she was safe. But not if it meant seeing Duck locked up somewhere on the ranch. It might be weeks before he could get back, and the progress they'd made with the boy would be forgotten by then.

  Teagen stepped closer and cupped the back of the boy's head. "He might be all right for a few hours without you. We managed to keep him busy while you drove into town, but come nightfall he'd start looking for you."

  Sage agreed. "He's happy with me most of the time, but now and then I notice him looking around, nervous and on edge until he sees you."

  Travis knew they were right. Duck was content to play around the house, even watching Sage and Martha cook while Travis read in the study. But every night he stayed close, refusing to go to his bed in front of the fireplace until Travis lowered himself into his bunk in the study. Only then would Duck climb beneath his covers and close his eyes.