Travis

by Georgina Gentry

  “But—” Travis began, but Violet cut him off.

  “Now, Clyde, you just mount up there and see what you think.”

  As Travis watched, dumbfounded, Clyde mounted the stallion and sat there proudly. “Miss, would you like to ride up behind me?”

  “No, she wouldn’t,” Travis snapped, “but let’s talk turkey.”

  The other man frowned. “I don’t think I want to talk to you, mister. I want to talk to this young lady about making a deal.”

  “She’s just a girl,” Travis protested. “You can’t do business with a young girl. Horse trading is men’s business.”

  However, in the end, Clyde did business with Violet and Travis stood there like a wooden cigar-store Indian while the girl cajoled and charmed the man into throwing all his gear into the deal.

  When they drove away fifteen minutes later in the ox-drawn covered wagon, Travis complained, “You took everything he had, even the change out of his pockets. Good thing he wasn’t wearin’ false teeth.”

  “I could have traded him out of those, too,” she said.

  “Remind me never to get into a trading deal with you.”

  “Oh, don’t be so huffy,” Violet answered. “He’s got a much better chance in the run now and we’ve got a rig that will carry all the kids.”

  “And leaves me without a spare horse,” Travis grumbled.

  “Isn’t Mouse fast enough for you to race on ahead and get a claim?”

  “Maybe,” Travis said. “This is just until we reach Guthrie, right?”

  She nodded. “Just get us to Guthrie and we’ll try to make out on our own.”

  He glanced sideways at her. She seemed even smaller and more defenseless. He didn’t have any confidence that this bunch of children could make it alone, but of course, that wasn’t his problem. He had enough of his own. Right now, his wrist was throbbing and he had to clench his teeth to hold back a gasp.

  They drove into the camp and all the children ran to meet them.

  “An oxcart?” Limpy asked.

  Kessie frowned. “Oxen are slow. They can’t outrun a turtle.”

  “How are we going to get a claim on a farm if we’re slow?” Harold asked.

  “No.” Travis shook his head. “No, you don’t understand; I’m the one racing for a claim. You all are going to the territorial capital and that’s where I leave you.”

  “Oh.” The children all looked downcast and he felt guilty as hell.

  Violet said, “Don’t worry, kids. Mr. Prescott is going to at least take us that far and it’s good of him to do so, isn’t it? We can make it on our own.”

  They all nodded and Travis felt like he’d stolen candy from the baby who was clinging to Growler’s neck.

  He wished he had a drink to quell the pain. “Look, here’s what we do now: let’s break camp and head south. I have to be waiting at the starting line by noon tomorrow when the gun goes off.”

  They gathered up the blankets and pans, and Travis saddled Mouse with the boys helping him. It occurred to him that he could help that crippled kid by making him a shoe that would make the short leg as long as the other, but of course, that wasn’t going to be his problem after tomorrow when he left them all at the capital.

  Violet got in the wagon seat of the oxcart. “I think I can drive this. Now all you children get in.”

  They all got in as Travis mounted up on Mouse.

  Boo Hoo began to cry. “Doggie, my dog, Feathers.”

  Violet looked uncertainly up at Travis. “Do you mind?”

  “I reckon not. I don’t know what the world’s coming to when a dog that’s walked all over Texas now has to ride in a wagon like a baby carriage.”

  Violet snapped her fingers at Growler and he hopped up into the wagon and licked the tears off Boo Hoo’s little face.

  “Damn,” Travis muttered. “What have I let myself in for?”

  “Mr. Prescott,” Violet said primly, “please don’t swear in front of the children.”

  And so they started off south toward the Kansas state line, an injured Texas Ranger on a big gray stallion, and an ox wagon full of kids with Growler’s head poking out the back as he barked happily.

  They arrived at the northernmost starting line down in Indian Territory about dusk. Travis looked up and down the long line of wagons and frowned. “My Lord, there must be thousands of people hoping to get a claim and there aren’t that many available.”

  “I got faith in you.” Violet shrugged and climbed down from her seat driving the ox wagon. “All out, kids.”

  She felt such relief at being out of Kansas without being caught and returned to the Diamond Horseshoe that she wasn’t too worried about the odds of getting a claim. The big Texas Ranger looked capable and responsible. She was already thinking he’d make a great husband for some lucky girl, even though he did have a few rough edges.

  He grimaced as if he was in pain as he dismounted.

  “Your wrist hurting?”

  He nodded. “It’s better than it was yesterday. I wish I had more laudanum.”

  “Oh, Mr. Brown did have one small bottle of whiskey in his wagon,” she whispered so the tired children now clambering out of the wagon wouldn’t hear. “Have a few swallows later.”

  His brown eyes lit up. “Young lady, that’s a rip-roarin’ idea.”

  She turned to the children. “All right, Harold, you and Kessie pick up sticks for a fire. Limpy, you help me unhitch the ox and stake him out to graze, and Boo Hoo . . .” She looked at the little girl. The baby was already fast asleep under a tree with Growler curled up next to her. “Never mind.”

  The Ranger said, “I think I’ll take my rifle and see if I can get a couple of squirrels or a rabbit or two.”

  She watched him mount up and ride off. She wasn’t sure how things would go from here, but at least she and the children were safely out of Kansas and with these thousands of people spread out as far as she could see, it would be difficult for the law to find four runaway children and a missing saloon girl. Duke would be furious when he got back from St. Louis, but maybe not mad enough to spend a lot of time looking for her. At least if she made it to the new territorial capital, Guthrie, she had a lot of options. Of course, there was still the problem of what to do with these pitiful ragamuffins.

  In less than an hour, the Ranger came back with three fat rabbits and Limpy hurried over to help unsaddle the gray stallion. “I love horses,” he said, stroking Mouse. “I wish I knew how to ride.”

  “I’ll teach you,” the Ranger began, then looked at Violet and stopped.

  She remembered then that they were all supposed to make their own ways once they got to Guthrie. “Never mind, honey. Just stake Mouse out in that tall grass over there. Once we get those rabbits cut up and roasted, we’ll eat.”

  All the children gathered around the small fire, their eyes wide with anticipation as Travis cut sticks and showed the children how to put the meat on the sticks and hold them over the fire.

  Even little Boo Hoo came awake and toddled over to join them without crying. Violet made a pot of coffee and everyone ate. Then she gave the scraps to Growler.

  Travis leaned back against a rock and sipped his coffee. In spite of his throbbing arm, he felt good that he’d managed to bring in enough meat to feed everyone. This must be what it felt like to be a husband and father, he thought, watching the children beginning to doze off on the grass. Of course, he was a confirmed bachelor, he reminded himself, and he’d be rid of the five when he went into Guthrie to file his claim.

  Violet watched him, wishing he was her man. She had never felt so safe and secure as she did at this moment. She wanted to curl up next to him as he sat by the fire, but of course she didn’t. After tomorrow, she reminded herself, he’d go on his way and she’d be on her own as she had been since she was a small child on the docks at Memphis.

  As they sat around the fire sipping coffee, she could see hundreds of campfires along the starting line. All these people had hopes
and dreams just like she did.

  “Young lady,” Travis said softly, “you and these kids had better bed down. Tomorrow is a long day.”

  She smiled up at him. “I want to thank you for everything you’ve done for us.”

  He flushed and stirred uneasily. “It weren’t no big deal. You know what they say about us. ‘A Texas Ranger knows what’s right and goes right ahead on.’”

  “Even if the odds are overwhelming?”

  “Even if the odds are overwhelming.” He nodded.

  She wanted to go over to Travis, sit down close and lean back against him, enjoy the fire and the evening with him, but of course she couldn’t do that. “We’d better bed down. Tomorrow’s the big day.”

  Travis was up early, thinking about the run into the Unassigned Lands. It was to start at high noon and settlers would rush in from all four sides. The earliest ones in would get the best land, although, there were thousands more settlers than there was available land.

  He watched Violet asleep with her arm thrown across little Boo Hoo. His dog lay next to the toddler. The little rascal had completely stolen his dog’s heart and turned the grouchy old mutt into a pet. But he couldn’t be angry. He had grown used to having these ragtag orphans with him, especially that mouthy one, Violet. If only she were a few years older . . . What are you thinking? he scolded himself. She’s just an innocent kid. What you need from women, you can get for a dollar at any passing saloon. Soon he’d be back to his old ways of riding alone. Solitude suited him just fine.

  Violet woke up and yawned, and he thought how cute she was as she scrambled to her feet and began to make coffee. “I didn’t mean to sleep so late,” she apologized.

  He shrugged and sat down by the fire, rolling a cigarette as he watched her hustling around. “No hurry. The gun doesn’t go off ’til noon.”

  “You’ll ride in ahead of us?” She looked up at him with those incredible violet eyes.

  “Yep, and you can follow with the ox wagon. We’ll meet up in Guthrie when I go in to file my claim.”

  “How will I know how to get to Guthrie?”

  “I reckon there’ll be signs everywhere.”

  “Sure.” She paused in dishing up some fried eggs for him.

  He hesitated. “That’s where we part ways, remember?”

  She nodded and he swore he saw tears in those big eyes. “Mr. Prescott, you will help me try to find people to take in these children, won’t you?”

  “That wasn’t part of the deal.” He thought about total strangers taking in Harold and Kessie. Who would want poor Limpy? And who wanted a toddler who kept wetting her drawers? He’d have to be really careful who he let take Violet. She was too pretty and innocent, and he didn’t want any man . . .

  Boo Hoo sat up just then, rubbing sleep from her blue eyes. “Doggie goes with me.”

  “That’s my dog,” Travis said and then stopped. How in the hell was he going to separate those two?

  Violet fed everyone breakfast and then began to clean up the camp. She didn’t say much to the Ranger because she didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t sure what lay ahead in Guthrie, but at least it was better than the life she’d had as a saloon girl back in Kansas. Maybe she would find four nice families to adopt her kids. Her kids. They were beginning to feel like hers.

  A couple of hours passed and the whole line of thousands seemed to be restless. The Ranger saddled his horse, and Mouse, as if sensing there was a race ahead, stamped his hooves uneasily.

  He and the boys harnessed the ox and hooked it up to the wagon. Then he mounted Mouse and Violet walked over and looked up at him. “All right, you get a claim and we’ll see you in Guthrie late this afternoon.”

  The young girl looked so vulnerable staring up at him that his heart went out to her. What kind of job could a pretty young thing like that get in a rough, wild, lawless new town? He didn’t even want to think about it. Maybe he could find a preacher’s family to take her in. He didn’t even want to admit to himself that he felt responsible for her. He touched his fingers against the brim of his Stetson by way of farewell and yelled to the children, “See you in Guthrie this afternoon!” Then he whistled to Growler. “You going with me, boy?”

  The dog hesitated, ran to him, then turned and raced back to the blond toddler. Boo Hoo put her arms around the dog’s neck and he licked her face. Damn it, he knew now he’d lost his dog for good. He had never felt as lonely as he did at this moment.

  Violet had gathered everyone up and was loading them in the wagon. “Good luck, Mr. Prescott.”

  “Good-bye.” All the children waved to him.

  “See you in Guthrie.” He had mixed feelings about riding away and leaving them, but people were starting to gather along the starting line where the cannon was. Some had fine horses, some drove buggies or wagons. There were even several on foot or riding bicycles.

  Damn, he should have hung on to that extra horse, it would have given him an advantage when Mouse tired out. He cursed himself for a soft-hearted fool for taking responsibility for all these children.

  He had to hold Mouse back as the line straightened out and soldiers made ready to fire the cannon; the gray stallion was ready to race.

  Then the gun boomed and with a cheer, the crowd of thousands was off, racing for free land in the Indian Territory.

  Chapter 5

  When the cannon boomed, Travis dug his heels into Mouse’s sides and they were off like a shot. However there was no need to urge the big gray forward. Mouse liked to run and his long legs drummed like pistons across the flat prairie. Around them, dust swirled up like a brown cloud from thousands of other horses. To Travis, it seemed like the noise of all the shouting people, running horses and rolling wagons reverberated like thunder.

  Where would the best land be? Maybe somewhere in the middle of the staked-out ground because the westernmost areas were more apt to be without streams of water, land not good or rich enough to graze cattle or horses. The easternmost land would be covered in the scrub oak trees that grew from Texas on north. He’d been over this ground years ago during cattle drives with his adopted father, Colt.

  He looked behind him as he rode. His big horse was already outrunning most of the line. He heard a shout as a racing buggy hit a gopher hole and turned over, spilling a man out onto the grass. Then a team of mules stopped and refused to move farther, hee-hawing in indignation as the irate driver cracked his whip over their heads.

  The people running on foot were easily being left behind in the blowing dust. There were good horses galloping all around him as men rode the race of their lives, hoping to win a farm.

  Travis’s wrist was throbbing again, but he ignored it. He’d been in worse pain than this often over his career as a lawman. How many times had he been shot or stabbed and survived to fight again another day with nothing but a few scars to show for it?

  The April day was warm and the prairie grass grew tall and green as he raced on. Scarlet Indian paintbrush and other wildflowers bloomed across the grasslands as he rode. It seemed quiet now that he was leaving the others behind. Somewhere in the distance, he heard a train whistle and knew that other settlers were riding the train into the Unassigned Lands, hoping to be able to jump off and stake a claim as the train slowed. He tried to imagine all the thousands of eager people coming in from all four sides of the Indian Lands, hoping to stake a claim for free farms.

  Mouse was lathered and blowing now, and Travis slowed to a walk as he rode. He didn’t want free land bad enough to ride his beloved horse to death, although he figured there were greedy men out there willing to kill their mounts to win this race.

  It seemed quiet, although he could still hear shouts and running horses far behind him. Where did he want to stake a claim? He reined in and looked around. Up ahead was a green valley with a creek and a shady spot with dozens of big cottonwood trees; the perfect place to build a ranch house.

  He rode forward, happy that now he’d have his own ranch. His folks’ place w
as already crowded with his two younger brothers and their families. There was a big piece of land for sale next to theirs, but of course he didn’t have any money to buy it. Well, he’d start his spread right here in the Indian Territory.

  He grinned as he reined in, stepped down, reaching for his claim flag in his saddlebags, And then a man stepped out of a soddy built into the bank of the creek. “Hey, mister, I already got this place claimed.”

  Travis stared at him with disbelief. “You couldn’t possibly have gotten here before I did. I’ve got one of the fastest horses in the race.”

  Then a thin, ragged woman came out of the shoddy, followed by six of the skinniest, dirtiest children Travis had ever seen. “Please, mister,” she begged. “We need this land. We ain’t got nothin.’”

  Sooners. “Oh, I get it,” Travis grumbled. “You sneaked in here before the gun sounded and staked this land.”

  The bearded man looked shame-faced and hung his head. “We didn’t mean to do nothing wrong. We just need a farm so bad, and we only had one old mule, so we knew we couldn’t compete. Please don’t create no trouble for us, mister.”

  Travis looked them over and hesitated. This was the poorest, hungriest family he’d ever seen. He could make a fuss at the Land Office in Guthrie and probably get them thrown off this claim and he could have it. Did he need a ranch that bad?

  “Please, mister,” the woman whined again. “This is the only chance we got.”

  “You been in to Guthrie to file your claim?” Travis asked. He could still own this land.

  The man shook his head and stubbed his worn shoe in the dirt. “I was afraid to leave my family alone, afraid some rough fellows might come along, and you know.”

  Travis looked at the woman. She might have once been pretty, but time and a hard life had worn her down. Still there were desperate men who would take advantage of a situation like this. What should he do? Well, there was only one thing an honorable Texan could do.