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.
She got up, took his cup and poured it. When she handed it back to him, their fingers brushed. To her, it felt like a lightning strike, but if he felt it too, he didn’t make any motion. Yet he was staring at her; she was very aware of that.
“What are you thinking?” she asked.
“Uh, nothing much.” He looked confused as he sipped the coffee. “Tomorrow, I’ll try to get the kitchen stove working and buy a couple of kerosene lamps on credit.”
“I can manage with just the fireplace for a while if I have to.” She wanted to sit down in his lap, but of course she didn’t. She sat down on the floor next to his chair and leaned her head against the arm.
His big hand reached out hesitantly and stroked her hair. “You’re a nice kid, Violet.”
Her heart sank. She had created this mess herself. Now there was no way to tell him she was a grown woman without him asking questions she didn’t want to answer.
The kids sat on the floor around the fire, Growler asleep among them.
Travis yawned. “You kids can start school tomorrow.”
Houston said, “We’re almost like a real family.”
“Maybe so,” Travis said softly.
“Then you need to get a wife,” Harold said importantly. “To be a real family, you got to get a wife.”
Violet felt like pinching the little boy for his observations. “I thought I was doing a pretty good job as a mother.”
Travis laughed. “What he means, Violet, is that you’re not old enough to be a wife. Anyway, we’re doing just fine alone.”
Harold said, “But if you found a lady you wanted to marry, wouldn’t you?”
Travis laughed again. “She’d have to be mighty pretty.”
“Prettier than Violet?” the boy asked.
“I think it’s time we all went to bed,” Violet interrupted and got to her feet. She didn’t want the kids giving away her secret, if they even remembered it.
“I think she’s right,” Travis echoed. “You’re all going to school tomorrow and I start my new job.”
Kessie said, “Bonnie is too young to go to school.”
“That’s right,” Violet agreed. “I’ll stay home and take care of her.”
“No, you don’t, young lady. You’re going to school with the others. Maybe we can talk the teacher into taking Bonnie, too.”
“I hope she’s pretty,” Houston said seriously. “Then maybe you’ll get married and we can stay together forever.”
“Quit talkin’ about marriage.” Travis frowned. “I’ve had enough of women and their lying ways. We can do just fine without one.”
Violet felt her heart skip a beat. She was the biggest liar of all. Travis was a proud man and he wouldn’t want a saloon tart for a wife. However, sooner or later, he would figure out she wasn’t really thirteen years old and before that, she would have to leave. She didn’t want him to ever find out her sordid past.
The next morning, she fixed them all a good breakfast, with ham and eggs bought on credit at the general store; then Travis told everyone to get washed up for school. With Growler following along beside Bonnie, the group started walking down the street.
It looked like a typical one-room schoolhouse, Travis thought, white frame with Texas and American flags flying out front. He walked up on the porch and opened the door. About a dozen young faces turned to look at him from their desks. The tall, thin woman writing on the blackboard at the front of the room paused and turned. “Yes?”
Travis took off his Stetson and shooed the children inside. “Excuse me, ma’am, but we’re new in town and I’m here to enroll my children.”
The woman looked over her spectacles at him. “Usually, it’s the mother who brings the children the first day.”
He gave her his best smile. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I don’t have a wife. It’s just me and the kids.”
“Children,” she corrected sternly and motioned. “Come in, c
ome in.” She gestured as if she was used to giving orders.
Violet pushed the reluctant children ahead of her, keenly aware of the stares of the other students. She thought the bony woman looked like a vulture glaring over her wire-rimmed glasses. The room smelled like chalk and old lunches.
The woman frowned down at all of them and then peered at Travis. “Are they all yours?”
It was evident they weren’t, Violet thought, looking at Harold and then to Travis with his high-cheekboned face.
“No, ma’am, they’re adopted.”
The students at their desks tittered while the bony lady slapped a ruler against a desk. “Be quiet, class, or I’ll keep everyone after school.”
“I just want to get them enrolled,” Travis said and gave her an engaging smile.
“Humph. You do realize that there’s only four weeks of school left before we break for summer?”
Travis gave the woman his most engaging smile. “I realize that, ma’am, but we just moved in and I’m sure you can teach them a lot in four weeks.”
Her bony face now turned pink at the compliment. “Well, I guess I can. I am Miss Brewster.”
“We are right proud to know you,” Travis said. “This oldest one is Violet, the little redhead is Kessie, that tall one is Houston and this one”—he put his hand on Harold’s thin shoulder—“this here is Harold.”
“Harold?” Her eyes widened.
“I named myself,” Harold explained.
The class tittered again and Miss Brewster rapped with her ruler as she faced Travis. “You expect me to teach that Oriental boy? There’s a laundry just off Main Street—”
“No, ma’am,” Travis frowned. “He wants to be a doctor or a scientist, not work in a laundry.”
She looked over her spectacles at Bonnie. “This one looks too young to be in school.”
Bonnie clung to Travis’s hand while Growler lay down next to her and began to scratch a flea.
“It’s outrageous that you’ve brought a dog in here,” Miss Brewster said. “And that child is too young—”
“She’s an orphan,” Travis snapped, “and I got no place to leave her while I work, ma’am, and she cries if we try to take the dog away from her.”
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