Houston looked around open-mouthed. “Wonder how much land she owns.”
Travis frowned at him. “In Texas, it ain’t polite to ask how much land or how many cattle someone owns.”
The mustached driver looked back over his shoulder and smiled. “I believe the lady owns some ten thousand acres and several hundred thousand cows.”
Even Travis took a deep breath at that.
As they got out of the barouche, Violet said, “Now, everyone remember to be on your best behavior.”
Travis smiled at her. “It’s nice of you to help the kids make a good impression on the lady.”
“Of course.” She forced herself to smile back although her heart was breaking. Here she would have to pretend to be a young girl while the pretty widow went after Travis, and of course that was why she had invited them all to dinner. Violet had seen the way the woman looked the Ranger over. She wanted him all right, and besides being rich, she was beautiful. What else could a man want?
They went up the steps and rang the bell at the massive leaded glass door as the driver took the barouche away to the stables.
After a moment, a dour butler answered the door and bowed. “Mrs. Van Mayes is awaiting you in the library, sir. I’ll announce you.”
They all stood in the fancy entry hall, staring in wonder as the butler disappeared and then returned. “Follow me, please.”
Violet had never seen anything like this place. There were fine carpets, giant chandeliers, and big, carved dark furniture. They followed the butler into the library, where Mrs. Van Mayes, dressed in pale lavender, stood up and held out her hands to Travis. Her dress was cut daringly low, showing a full curved bosom. “Ah, so glad you and the children could come.”
“Good of you to invite us. Kids, say howdy.”
Violet and the elegant lady locked eyes and the widow’s glare was as cold as marble. Violet curtseyed to her as a well-bred young lady should do, and the other girls did the same. The boys bowed low. “Evening, ma’am.”
“Such nice children.” Mrs. Van Mayes sat down and patted the cushion on the settee next to her. “You must sit and tell me how you are managing, Mr. Prescott.”
He sat down next to her. “Just call me Travis, ma’am.”
“Of course and you must call me Charlotte. Would you like a drink?”
“Well, ma’am, I reckon so.” He ran his finger around his collar, evidently nervous.
“I’ll ring for the butler.” She got up, went to the wall and pulled a velvet rope. The dour, portly man came in promptly. “Jarvis, bring me some sherry and break open a bottle of my finest bourbon for Mr. Prescott.”
“Very well, madam. And what about the children?” He peered down his long nose at them.
“Take the young lady and the others to the billiard room and get them some sarsaparilla.” She dismissed all the children with a nod.
Violet took a deep breath. “I’d just as soon stay here.”
Travis frowned at her and the beautiful widow gave her a murderous glare as she spoke. “No, dear, be a good girl and run along so the adults can visit.”
There was nothing else she could do but follow the children to the billiard room. In minutes, the butler brought them bottles of sarsaparilla. She decided it was too far down the hall to eavesdrop.
“How do we play this?” Houston asked.
“I reckon you hit the ball with the tip of that stick and try to knock it in those holes in the corners of the table.”
Bonnie pouted. “Feathers, me can’t reach and I miss doggie.”
Violet sighed. “I’ll hold you up so you can try to hit the ball.” She lifted the toddler and showed her how to hold the stick. The children were soon engrossed with the game.
Violet fidgeted, wondering what was going on in the library, but there was no way to know. She could only imagine how the forward widow was coming on to Travis. She tried not to be jealous; after all, this would be a great life for Travis and the children. Darn it, Violet loved him and even thinking about him making love to Charlotte Van Mayes made her grit her teeth.
In a few minutes, the butler came back to the billiard room and bowed low. “Miss, Mrs. Van Mayes is ready for dinner. Please bring the rest of the children and follow me.”
Violet nodded. “Come on, kids. It’s time to eat.”
Dutifully they followed the butler into the biggest dining room Violet had ever seen. The dark, carved table looked like it would seat at least a dozen people and there was fine china and silver reflecting the chandelier’s candle glow.
The lady waited for Travis to seat her and then he walked down to the other end of the table and took a chair.
“Children”—Mrs. Van Mayes waved one bejeweled hand—“you may sit anywhere up and down the table.”
Violet promptly took the seat next to Travis. “This one suits me just fine.”
The lady frowned at her. “How sweet that you’re so devoted to your father.”
“He’s not really my father,” Violet said. “He’s adopting all of us.”
“Yes, I found them all.” Travis grinned. “They needed a home and I took them in.”
“What a big heart you have.” Mrs. Van Mayes turned her warmest smile on Travis, then looked at Violet again and frowned. “It must be hard without a mother for a young girl like you.”
“We are managing.” Violet scowled back at her.
“But you are missing so much,” the lady cooed at her. “You should be attending finishing school, learning French and embroidery, so you can move in the best circles and meet young men from the best families.”
“She’s a little young for that yet,” Travis said.
“One is never too young to think about society,” the beauty cooed and smiled again at Travis.
The children all seemed dumbstruck by the fine china, crystal and shining silver. They sat quietly, wide-eyed.
“And so quiet,” Mrs. Van Mayes said with a nod of approval. “Most children are noisy and tear up things.”
Violet looked at her. “You have no children of your own?”
The lady shook her head. “I wanted some, but you see, my husband died on our wedding night, so I’ve been alone ever since.” She wiped her eyes with her napkin as the butler came in with a silver tray on which was the largest roast Violet had ever seen.
Houston looked at her. “What’d he die of?”
“Houston,” Travis snapped, “you are being rude.”
“I’m sorry.”
He probably died trying to satisfy this lusty woman, Violet thought, but she didn’t say anything as the butler paused by her chair. “Roast beef, miss?”
“Yes, please.” She took the big silver fork and helped herself to a slice, plus some potatoes and carrots. She looked over at Travis. He was digging into that plate of food with approval.
At the other end of the table, the widow was inspecting the bottle of wine Jarvis had brought her. “Yes, this will do. See to Mr. Prescott’s goblet.”
And then to Travis, she said, “I do hope you like this wine. I had it shipped from France at great expense.”
Travis smiled. “Ma’am, I don’t know much about fancy wine, but if you picked it, I’m sure I’ll like it.”
The beauty blushed modestly and leaned forward so that her bosom showed in her low-cut dress. “Well, I do know a lot about wine.” The butler walked the length of the table to pour Travis a glass. Without thinking, Violet held out her glass.
Mrs. Van Mayes laughed. “Oh, my dear, you’re a little too young for wine yet. You need to learn so much. Have you ever thought about a finishing school? I attended Miss Pickett’s in Boston and that would be a good place for you.”
“I wouldn’t want to leave the children,” Violet said.
“Oh, but the boys might want to go to military school,” the lady suggested as she sipped her wine. “And of course, that little one needs a good nanny.”
The little one, Bonnie, scowled at her. “I want my dog.”
&
nbsp; “What?” The lady blinked.
Travis laughed. “She’s got an old dog that she’s never separated from. We made her leave him at home.”
“Well, the poor little thing. Of course she should have her dog.”
Travis paused in eating. “Mrs. Van Mayes—”
“Please call me Charlotte.” She gave him a melting look.
“Charlotte, you see, I can’t hardly afford to send girls to finishing school or boys to military school.”
“Oh, but if they had a benefactor, that wouldn’t be any problem.” She gave all the children a smug, satisfied look.
Houston said, “I don’t want to go to military school. I want to be a rancher or a Texas Ranger.”
“I want to be a doctor or a scientist,” Harold added.
The lady stared at Harold. “Where on earth did you get the Chinese boy?”
“I found him like the others,” Travis said.
“Travis, you’re such a kind, generous heart,” said the widow. “How I’ve longed to meet someone like you. Wealthy widows have a difficult time in this world, everyone trying to take advantage of them when they don’t have a man to look after them.”
She was about as helpless as a black widow spider, Violet thought, but she kept her gaze on her plate. The food really was delicious and she wondered what it would be like to be rich. She already sensed the widow didn’t like her and was thinking about shipping her off to school to get rid of her. Could she send her any farther than Boston?
“Of course”—Mrs. Van Mayes gave her a chilly smile—“there are grand schools in Switzerland, and some of the best families send their daughters there.”
So there was a place farther than Boston she could be sent, Violet thought. She glanced over at Travis to see if he understood what this woman was planning so she could have the man all to herself, but he was grinning like a coyote and staring at the lady like she was sugar candy that he intended to eat up that very night.
Chapter 15
It was the following Sunday after dinner at Charlotte Van Mayes’s house. Violet had taken the children to church and convinced Travis to accompany them. She thought he looked grand, but he seemed uncomfortable and ill at ease in the stiff shirt and tie.
Everyone, particularly the single ladies, turned their heads, smiled and nodded a greeting as the little family found their way to a pew. The congregation seemed abuzz with the fact the family had had dinner with the rich widow.
Well, there wasn’t much else to talk about in this sleepy town, Violet thought as she settled in and smacked Harold for pulling Kessie’s red hair.
It seemed hot in the little church, even for June. Paper fans from the local funeral home fluttered at every sweating face as the choir sang “Amazing Grace.”
Violet thought the children behaved well. She only once had to tap Houston on the shoulder for poking Harold, and even little Bonnie was quiet as she diligently scribbled on the back of a donation envelope. The windows were open and butterflies and bees drifted in and out of the building as the minister droned on and on, only interrupted by several old men who had dozed off and were snoring.
Halfway through the service, someone opened the big doors for more air and Violet heard titters and saw heads craning as Growler ran down the aisle, sniffing the wine-colored carpet until he tracked his way to Bonnie, who set up a cry and threw her arms around the dog’s neck.
Even Travis frowned, but Violet managed to silence the greeting and settled the dog under the pew and the minister went on with his service.
Finally the choir led in an off-key version of “Shall We Gather at the River” and the service was over. Dutifully Travis led the little family out the big doors, stopping to shake hands with the minister. “Good service, Pastor.”
The thin man looked over his spectacles at Travis and smiled. “Good to see you at services, Brother Prescott.”
Reverend Smithe patted each child on the head. “Poor little orphans.”
“We’re not orphans,” Houston said. “Travis has taken us in.”
“And so kind of him to do so.” The pastor nodded. “And you, young lady, so brave of a young girl to manage a house by yourself.”
Before Violet could answer, Mrs. Van Mayes walked up, dressed in expensive green silk and smiling. “Yes, Pastor, isn’t it brave of all of them to struggle along like they do? I think it’s so admirable.”
Violet frowned at her, but before she could say anything, Travis was tipping his Stetson to the lady. “Mrs. Van Mayes—”
“Charlotte, please,” she reminded him with a dazzling smile. “We are good friends after all.”
“Just wanted to thank you for the dinner the other night,” Travis said. “The children were so pleased.”
He nudged Violet and she curtsied. “Yes, ma’am,” she answered, “so pleased.”
“You’re a brave little girl.” The widow reached out and patted Violet’s shoulder.
“I don’t mind.”
But of course, the pretty widow wasn’t paying a bit of attention to her; her gaze was fastened on Travis. “How nice to see you in church.”
All the other single women were now gathering around Travis to the point that Violet felt pushed to the outside of the circle and she stood there tapping her foot.
Kessie scratched herself. “Can we go home now?”
“That’s not ladylike,” Violet said. “Don’t scratch.”
“I can’t help it; this petticoat itches and it’s hot standing out here in the sun.”
“Then gather up the rest of the kids and head home. We’ll be there as soon as I can reclaim Travis.”
“Who are all those old hens?” Harold asked.
“Shh!” Violet cautioned. “They’re all interested in Travis.”
“I thought he belonged to us,” Houston said.
“Just gather up everyone and go home. I’ve got a roast in the oven and don’t let Bonnie get into the peach cobbler before she eats dinner. We’ll be there in just a minute.”
The children trooped away toward their house down the street while Violet stood there patiently, as the ladies grouped around Travis, who ignored her.
Finally the ladies drifted away, all but Mrs. Van Mayes—she still chatted with Travis, who didn’t seem to mind at all.
Violet tapped Travis on the arm. “I’ve got a roast in the stove. If we don’t go soon, it’ll be overcooked.”
“Oh, what a shame.” The pretty widow nodded to her. “I was just inviting your father to dinner.”
Violet glared back. “I’ve already got dinner ready.”
“Oh.” The blond widow looked disappointed. “Well, it’s a lovely day. Mr. Prescott, why don’t I drive over and pick you up later today and we’ll go for a drive? I’d love to show you my ranch.”
Travis seemed smitten with the woman. He grinned. “I’d like that. The kids would, too.”
The lady bit her lip. “I was planning on driving the light buggy. Not much room for children, I’m afraid.”
“Then the kids can go to the park.” He turned to Violet. “You could take the kids to the park, couldn’t you?”
Violet said, “I remember Mrs. Van Mayes has that fine barouche with the double seats. It holds everyone.”
The widow gave her a steely look. “But it’s my driver’s day off and I couldn’t possibly manage the barouche alone. No, I’m sorry, I’ll be driving the small buggy.”
Travis stared at the woman as if she were a steak and he was a starving hound. “I’m sure Violet will be happy to take the kids to the park.” He poked Violet in the side and she grunted.
Mrs. Van Mayes smiled without mirth. “Children do get a little possessive of their parents sometimes, but they get over it. Good-bye, dearie,” she addressed Violet. “So kind of you to take your little brothers and sisters to the park so your father can look over the ranch with me.”
Travis tipped his hat to the lady, but Violet only nodded as the lady turned and walked toward her fine buggy.
The two started to the house.
“What’s the matter with you, Violet?” he scolded. “You were barely polite to the lady.”
“The lady wants to marry you. She’s done everything but post a notice in the weekly paper.”
He smiled. “You think so? Well, would that be so bad? She’s beautiful and rich, too. Just think how well you kids could live in her big house. We’re barely making it on my salary.”
“You aren’t thinking of us,” Violet complained. “You’re thinking how you’d like to get that beauty into bed.”
“Violet!” He looked shocked. “Nice young ladies don’t make comments like that. You shouldn’t even know about such things.”
She didn’t answer for a long moment, thinking she didn’t want to give her age and experience away. “All right, I apologize. I’ll take the kids to the park and you can go riding with Mrs. Van Mayes. She’s probably a better choice than some of those other eager hens.”
Travis snorted. “Some of those women are old enough to be my mother. If this town is determined to marry me off, it ought to at least be a woman I like.”
And can hardly wait to take to bed, Violet thought, but she didn’t say that. She was so jealous, she was almost shaking, but of course she couldn’t say anything.
They reached the house and Violet served dinner. Of course, part of Bonnie’s went directly down to Growler, lying under the table, but Violet was too preoccupied with the elegant lady to say anything.
Travis dived in with gusto. “You know, Violet, Mrs. Van Mayes is right. You have too much responsibility for a young girl. It makes me feel guilty.”
“I don’t mind,” Violet assured him as she poured gravy on her mashed potatoes and buttered her hot roll.
“And that’s brave of you,” Travis said, “looking after all these kids when you ought to be learning etiquette and French. I’ll bet Mrs. Van Mayes can teach you a lot.”
“Not as much as she can teach you,” Violet said under her breath.”
“What?”
“Nothing.” She turned her head and addressed the faces around the table. “After we have pie, we’ll all go to the park.”
Travis Page 21