by Lori Wick
“I’m going to the post office now.”
“I thought you were going to shop.”
“I didn’t find anything.”
For once Lavena’s sharp gaze softened. The older woman believed with all her heart that Travis would return, but she couldn’t tell Rebecca that.
“You be careful on the street now, do you hear? There’s a reading room across the way. You could check there for books if you want.”
“Reading room? I didn’t know Boulder had a reading room.”
“Well, it does, but if anyone so much as looks at you sideways, you get yourself back in here to me.”
Rebecca couldn’t help but smile. Lavena came only to her chin, but it was clear that she would take on the world if asked to. The older woman turned back to her list, and Rebecca felt free to leave. She couldn’t help but think of her aunt as she looked around the simple shop. It was fairly clean, if not rough in places, but Aunt Hannah would have swooned to see Rebecca shopping so casually in such a place.
Unbidden, bitterness rose inside of her. Her father was not well. Who knew how long he would live? But Aunt Hannah had kept them apart. She was a sick woman in Rebecca’s opinion, and just like her father, Rebecca would have been tempted to violence if Hannah had been present.
“Did you need something, Miss Rebecca?”
Rebecca started abruptly at the sound of Lucky’s voice, her hand going to her throat.
“Oh, Mr. Harwell, yes. I’m going to the post office.”
“Let me get the door for you.”
“Thank you,” Rebecca said absently, but then noticed he stayed by her side. Her look must have questioned him because he swiftly said, “The streets can be a little rough. I thought I should walk with you.”
“Oh,” Rebecca said. She couldn’t think of any reason for his not walking with her, so she continued on her way. When the boardwalk ended at the alley and started again on the other side, Lucky took her arm. He felt her stiffen, however, and dropped his hand even before they had crossed the alley.
He held the door at the post office but waited for her outside. There was a letter for her father, a package for Lavena, and another letter, this one addressed to Ray Sugars, but nothing for her. She slipped everything into her satchel and moved back to the door. Again Lucky’s presence startled her, but she didn’t show it. She looked at his face. He was certainly handsome, but for some reason his looks made no impression on her.
Rebecca would have been surprised to know that Lucky was more than aware of this. His experience with women told him that they always loved the one they were with, but this was not turning out to be the case. However, one never knew what the future might bring. Travis could show up with a wife and kids and make Rebecca so angry that she would turn to him in an instant.
“Mr. Harwell.” She pleased him by stopping and speaking his name. He loved her voice. “Lavena told me that Boulder has a reading room. Do you know where it is?”
She didn’t expect him to know, but she had to start somewhere. To her surprise, Lucky pointed behind her.
Rebecca turned to look across the street and then back to Lucky, her eyes huge.
“Thank you.”
The surprise in her voice was almost insulting, but Lucky Harwell was not easily put off. As the petite beauty turned away from him he grinned and followed her across the dirt street.
“I’ve read this one too, but I didn’t enjoy it as much.”
Again Rebecca stared at Lucky. They’d been in the reading room for only 20 minutes, and he’d managed to surprise her repeatedly. Lucky was only thankful that he was living up to his name. A year ago he’d dated a girl from the saloon who loved to read. In order to gain ground with her, he’d read in his every spare moment, and even some after she’d moved on. Seeing a new appreciation in Rebecca Wagner’s eyes as she looked at him, Lucky knew with a certainty that all that time and energy was going to pay off again.
7
Travis Buchanan spent Christmas behind bars, and even when 1870 gave way to 1871, he remained in prison. In Sheriff Turlock’s mind, he still had a murderer on his hands. Travis, not easily angered, grew more frustrated by the day. It was past the middle of the month before Turlock opened a letter from a lawman in Texas whose words made it possible for Travis to go free.
“They hung him.”
Travis heard the man but didn’t answer. Half the time he didn’t want to hear what the sheriff had to say anyhow.
“They’ve hung Hank Randall.”
This brought Travis off his bunk. He moved to the bars and looked through. Turlock glanced up at him.
“Says it right here.” He held the letter aloft. “’Bout six months back they captured and hung Hank Randall. The marshall says he was too busy to contact us sooner.”
Travis had still not uttered a word. He stood motionless as Turlock rose from the desk, went for the keys that hung on the far wall, and approached the cell. The door swung open for the first time in nearly two months.
“You’re free to go.”
That was it. No apology or regret for the mistake. Just, “You’re free to go.” It wasn’t flowery, but Travis would take it. He walked from the cell and stood by the desk. The sheriff, whom Travis found a bit dim at times, came alive. It wasn’t ten minutes before Travis was back in possession of his hat, coat, gun, and all the contents from his pockets, including Andrew Wagner’s money. Travis was not about to thank the man; indeed, he didn’t even trust himself to speak, but just before he turned away, he grabbed the wanted poster from the desk.
“Hey! You can’t have that,” Turlock protested. “I have to have that for my files.”
But Travis was already folding the poster to put in his pocket. He turned to the man, his eyes clearly showing his rage.
“There were people counting on my return.” His voice was low and menacing, and the other man knew an instant of fear.
“I’m going to take this,” Travis held up the folded handbill, “and with it I’m going to explain where I’ve been. Now, where’s my horse?”
The question came out calmly, but it took an effort. Travis wanted to lift the smaller man by the shirt front and tell him that if Diamond had so much as a scratch, he’d be back to beat the life out of him.
Turlock swallowed hard but managed, “He’s stabled out back, but you won’t get far today. It’s supposed to snow.”
Travis ignored him. He slipped the paper into his breast pocket and moved to the door. He exited the sheriff’s office and Denver itself without a backward glance.
Boulder
“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” Rebecca asked, her eyes drifting out the living room window.
“What’s that?” Lucky questioned her with his usual attentiveness.
“The snow. It doesn’t snow for weeks, not even for Christmas, and now at the beginning of February the ground is covered.”
Lucky finally transferred his attention to the window. “I think we’ll get more before nightfall too.”
Rebecca turned to smile at him. He had become such good company. Every Sunday afternoon since that day in town, he had come with a different book and stayed to visit as well. It didn’t erase all the hurt Travis had left behind, but it was a start. Rebecca knew by the way Lucky talked that he had broken a thousand hearts in his lifetime, and she determined never to be one of them, but his companionship was a great help.
Lucky now held his cup out for more coffee. Rebecca smiled and obliged him. He wasn’t anywhere near as far as he’d planned to be where Rebecca was concerned, but he was a patient man. Along with that he was the envy of the whole bunkhouse, and that had its points as well.
When the knock sounded at the front door, Lavena was in the kitchen. Both Lucky and Rebecca heard it, but Rebecca also heard her father leave his study to answer it. Andrew stared up at the tall, snow-covered figure until something hit his chest. He looked down.
“It’s your money.” Travis’ voice was rusty from lack of use. “I have
an explanation if you want to hear it, but I wanted you to have the money first.”
“Come in, Travis.” Andrew finally recovered enough to recall his manners.
The nearly frozen man stepped inside and just stood. It was by sheer force of will that he kept his teeth from chattering. Andrew had glanced down at the money again, but he was now looking in surprise at Travis, his eyes showing his shock.
“You found Grady.”
“Yes, but he won’t be back.”
Andrew nodded, and then shook his head to clear it. “Come in. Come to the study, and I’ll give you a drink.”
Andrew went ahead of him, and Travis was turning to follow when he looked up and saw her. Her dress was pale blue with long sleeves and high neck, and her hair sat atop her head in a golden crown, but all Travis could see were her eyes as they looked at him with longing.
“Reba,” he said the word softly and even took a step toward her before he heard the voice. The other man was out of sight in the room behind her, but Travis knew the owner of that voice.
“Who is it, Rebecca? Should I come?”
Rebecca watched a shuttered expression come over Travis’ face. The light in his eyes dimmed so swiftly that she almost gasped. A second later he turned, walked into the study, and shut the door.
“The resemblance is incredible,” Andrew commented nearly an hour later as he continued to study the poster, “but it says right here that he was 5'8". What was the sheriff thinking?”
“I don’t know, but he had the key and there wasn’t a thing I could do.”
Andrew eyed him sharply. “You could have sent word.”
“No, I couldn’t,” Travis returned flatly. “Turlock had it in his head that I might be sending for my gang.”
For the first time Andrew smiled and then chuckled. Travis wanted to join him, but he was still too stiff to find much amusing.
“I’m glad you paid Grady; it sounds like he needed it,” Andrew told him when he turned serious. “The foreman’s job is yours if you’ll have it, Travis.”
Travis stared at him without really focusing. Could he keep working here while Rebecca was seeing another man? The anger he felt over her betrayal was enough to drive the chill away, but he still remembered the harshness of his ride from Denver. It was too cold to be looking for work. He’d stay the rest of the winter, but with no promises beyond that.
“I’ll take the job.”
“Great. You can move upstairs. Lavena has Grady’s room all clean and ready. I’ll send his gear to him this week.”
“I appreciate the offer of the room, but I’ll decline until I can get a bath and some clean clothes.”
“Lavena can do that,” Andrew insisted and stood. “Your gear is stowed in the bunkhouse. Lucky is visiting with Rebecca, so I’ll have him bring your stuff in, and I’ll order you a bath.”
Andrew had gone to the door and missed the look on Travis’ face, or he would have questioned him. When he gained the entryway once again, both Rebecca and Lucky were standing there. Travis heard Andrew speaking to Lucky, but he kept his eyes averted.
“Go on up, Travis,” he told his new foreman when he had finished with the hand. “Go ahead to your room. Turn right at the top of the stairs. It’s the second door on the right.”
Travis was able to mount the stairs without looking at Rebecca. Her eyes, however, followed him to the very top.
“I knew you’d be back,” Lavena muttered, pouring hot water over his back. Travis had told her to get out, but she hadn’t listened. “I didn’t say anything, but I knew you would. I thought that little girl was going to waste away to nothing.”
“Get out, Lavena,” Travis said, and this time she heard the tone.
“You don’t think she’s fallen for Lucky, do you?” Lavena was well and truly outraged, but then so was the cowboy in the tub.
“Get out, Lavena, and I mean now.”
The older woman drew herself up to her full diminutive height, her chin thrust at an aggressive angle. “Go ahead,” she challenged him. “Think what you like. But if you don’t claim that girl’s heart this day, you’re a fool, Travis Buchanan.”
She did leave then, but Travis didn’t continue to wash. Indeed, it was some time before he noticed the water turning cold. He dried slowly and knew suddenly that he’d made a mistake. How could he stay and watch Rebecca with Lucky Harwell, or any other man?
His eyes suddenly roamed the room he’d been given. It was spacious and comfortable, the bed wide and the floor covered with a thick carpet. Lavena had already put his things in the fine wood dresser, and his few shirts now hung in the built-in closet. On the wall by the door hung a mirror. Travis walked to it. He fingered his jaw as he realized he’d lost weight while in that Denver jail. Since he’d had so little activity, he was surprised. He’d felt it in his clothes, but he’d been so driven to return he’d given little notice. He was still studying his reflection when someone knocked on the door.
“Who is it?”
“Rebecca,” came the voice from without. “Lavena said she’s putting dinner on.”
Travis stood, his hands clenched at his side. Just the sound of her voice was like a knife in his side. He had wondered what he would do if she had forgotten him, but not until he’d heard Lucky’s voice did he admit to himself he never really believed he could lose her.
“Travis?”
“I’ll be down,” he told her curtly, and stood still when he heard her move back down the hall. He knew then that he would stay. Not because he wanted to, but because he couldn’t walk away from her just yet. In the weeks to come he’d see her with Lucky, and it would work like a purge. He would be more than ready to leave when spring finally arrived.
“Happy birthday,” Lavena said with a measure of pride, placing the frosted cake on the table. Travis, who had been back a week, turned wide eyes to her when he realized she was talking to him.
“What day is this?”
“February 9,” Andrew told him. “Happy birthday.”
Travis’ mouth opened and shut, and then he turned to Lavena. “How did you know?”
“Grady had some records on you. Biscuit keeps track of the men, so I keep track of the foreman.”
With that little bit of news she turned and left them. Travis watched as Rebecca reached for the cake and knife. He thanked her when she passed him the first piece, as always, a picture of gentle politeness. Indeed, Travis was so civil that it chilled her to the bone.
Andrew began to talk business again as soon as he had his cake. Rebecca sat quietly and listened. Her father knew that things had changed between his daughter and the nowpermanent foreman. He had already talked with her about it and informed her that it was all her fault. He hadn’t been cruel or unreasonably harsh, but he never did countenance her having Harwell in on Sundays. It had crushed Rebecca when he’d taken Travis’ side. That conversation took place the day after Travis returned, and the wound in her heart was still raw. However, she had not given up on the angry foreman. They finished their cake just a few minutes later, and Rebecca did something she hadn’t tried before.
“Travis, would you like to join us in the living room for coffee?”
Travis looked at her, his face expressionless. She’d asked before—she’d asked every night—but never in front of her father. And indeed, her plan worked.
“Oh, certainly, Travis,” Andrew declared. “Join us. I just have to get some papers from my desk, and I’ll be in.”
Travis was as tense as a cat. He walked into the living room ahead of Rebecca but did not take a seat. He was moving around the room, nearly stalking it, when he realized Rebecca stood inside the door watching him.
“Aren’t you worried that Lucky might come in and find me here?” The polite mask had fallen away.
Rebecca shook her head. “Lucky came only on Sundays, and anyway, I told him I thought I’d be busy from now on.”
“Oh, really,” Travis sounded bored. “What will you be doing?” His voice
told her he didn’t care.
Rebecca shrugged, her eyes miserable. It was almost more than Travis could take, but he kept the wall shored up around his heart.
“I just thought I might be busy.” She said the words so softly that Travis almost missed them. He had to turn away from the pain in her eyes. Why had she been seeing Lucky at all if she felt that way? Both of them felt relieved when Lavena came in with the coffee. Not long after, Andrew joined them. Rebecca stayed for an hour but then retired while the men discussed the ranch.
8
“Travis.” Rebecca called his name early Saturday morning, and she could tell she had surprised him. His eyes narrowed as they looked at her, not with anger but in defense.
They were in the upstairs hallway, and Travis knew very well that Andrew had already gone downstairs. Did she know how she looked to him? She was dressed, but there was a morning softness about her, and her hair lay loose on her shoulders.
“What do you want, Rebecca?”
“I just want to talk to you.”
“I have work to do.”
She sighed. “It’s not the way you think,” she began, but cut off when he shook his head.
The night before, he’d actually spoken kindly to her. It had been a moment of weakness on his part, but the way he had spoken to her on his birthday had bothered him. He’d been ready to ask her for a walk when someone knocked on the front door. The shutters had gone back into place when Rebecca opened the door and Lucky stood there asking to see her. Travis hadn’t stayed around to see what the two of them did, but he did resolve not to be caught out again.
“I won’t fight Harwell for you, Rebecca,” he said suddenly.
“I don’t want you to.”