He didn’t say anything, only frowned. “Since your hand is burned, I started breakfast.”
“Thanks, but I’m not hurt; I can manage.” Her arm brushed his and she stepped away. Now that he knew her real age, it was awkward to behave like an adult when he had always regarded her as almost a child. “The kids want flapjacks,” she said, “so if you’ll give me room, I’ll get started.”
“Sure.” He didn’t even smile as he walked out of the kitchen.
If he was going to keep this up, being cold to her, she didn’t know whether she could stand it and besides, the children would soon notice it and might start asking questions. The tense atmosphere in the house these last few days had led to Bonnie wetting her drawers again and Kessie chewing her nails once more.
She heard him talking to the children in the parlor as she got out the eggs and milk.
“Hey, Travis, are we gonna practice shooting today?” Houston asked.
She peeked around the corner to see Travis ruffle the boy’s hair. “Yep. If you take that prize away from the men at the shooting match, they’ll get the shock of their lives.”
“Travis, won’t you enter the contest?” Kessie asked.
He shook his head. “You know the trouble I have with my wrist. It hurts too much to risk it.”
Harold grinned. “But if you did enter, you would win.”
Travis smiled. “Well, I wouldn’t be so sure of that.”
Violet returned to her cooking, listening to the hum of conversation from the other room. They had been so happy as a family until Travis found out what a liar she was. Now she wasn’t sure what to expect. She could only pray he didn’t find out the rest of it.
She stuck her head around the door. “Flapjacks ready.”
“About time.” Travis scowled at her. “You should have let me do it.”
“My hand’s okay,” she said as they all trooped in to sit down. She served up flapjacks with plenty of syrup and butter and big slabs of thick ham. “I’ll get the coffee.” She headed back to the kitchen. It felt awkward sitting down at the table, where she had to look at Travis ignoring her.
Finally she sat down. “Bonnie, stop feeding the dog all your food,” she said and then concentrated on her plate.
“Growler like flapjacks, too,” Bonnie lisped.
“Well, eat some of them,” Travis said. “Now, Houston, don’t forget to come by the shop at noon.”
Houston nodded, his face happy. “How could I forget? Violet, did you know me and Travis been practicing? I’m going to enter the shooting match.”
“I’m sure Travis will train you so well you’re sure to win.” She sneaked a look at Travis, but he kept his eyes on his plate.
“You men only have a few days,” Kessie admonished.
“Is July Fourth that soon?” Violet asked. “Time sure does get away fast.”
“And I’m gonna march in the parade with the suffragettes,” Kessie announced.
Harold snorted. “Women ain’t ever gonna get the right to vote, so you’re wasting your time.”
Travis looked up. “Well, I don’t see why ladies can’t vote. Some of them are smart as any man.” He stared directly at Violet. “Although some of them are pretty devious and lie like a rug.”
“What that means?” Bonnie asked, her round face smeared with syrup.
Violet felt her face flush and she got up from the table. “I’ll get some more coffee.”
“It means,” Travis said behind her, “some women are big liars and keep secrets.”
“Men do, too,” Kessie said.
“Yeah, but women are best at it,” Travis answered.
In the kitchen, Violet leaned on the stove and gritted her teeth. If this tension was going to go on every moment she didn’t think she could stand it.
“What happened to the coffee?” Travis called.
“Coming.” She carried the pot back to the dining room and squelched the temptation to pour it in his lap instead of his cup.
He didn’t even thank her as he gulped the hot, strong brew. “Well, kids, I got to be leaving. Help Violet around the house and I’ll see you boys about noon.” He got up from the table and left, slamming the door behind him.
Harold looked at Violet with those big almond eyes. “What’s wrong with Travis?”
“I’m sure I wouldn’t know,” Violet lied. “Now finish your milk and chop me some more stove wood. Houston, you can milk the cow and bring in some water so Kessie can wash the dishes.”
“Why do the women always wash the dishes?” Kessie whined.
“Because, silly,” Houston answered, “girls are too weak to chop wood and carry water.”
“I’ll show you how weak I am!” Before Violet could stop her, Kessie had dragged Houston from his chair and was pummeling him.
“Kids! Kids, stop it!” Violet jumped up, grabbed Kessie and pulled her away. “Now Kessie, if you want to trade jobs with the boys—”
“No, I’d rather do dishes.”
“Then stop fussing, for heaven’s sake,” Violet snapped.
Bonnie looked up at her. “You mad?”
Violet sighed. “No, just didn’t sleep well.”
All four sets of eyes turned on her.
“I just didn’t, that’s all.”
“Grown-ups,” Harold snorted. “Both of them are grouchy this morning.”
“Let’s clear the table,” Violet said. “And Bonnie, wash your face, you’ve got syrup all over it.”
She walked into the kitchen, came back to see Growler licking the toddler’s sticky face. “I said wash it.”
“Growler wash it.” Bonnie smiled.
“That’s not what I had in mind.” Violet grabbed a washcloth and pushed the dog away. “You three kids get on with your chores.”
It took awhile to get the house in order. The late June heat was oppressive and Violet opened all the windows to get a breath of air. The Fourth of July celebration was only a few days away and by then, she and Travis were going to have to come to some sort of truce. She couldn’t stand to live under this much tension.
Kessie looked out the window. “There goes Mrs. Van Mayes in her fancy buggy.”
“Oh? Where’s she going?” Violet asked.
“Looks like she’s headed to the gun shop.”
Violet gritted her teeth. “Maybe she needs to buy a gun.”
Harold laughed. “I don’t think so. I think she drops in to visit Travis. Sometimes she brings him lunch.”
“Is that so?” Violet snapped. “Well, she can’t take him picnicking because he promised you boys he’d help you with your target shooting at noon.”
“She brings a good lunch, Travis says,” Kessie remarked.
“I pack a pretty good lunch myself, so I’ll take him lunch.” Violet marched into the kitchen and got out a fresh loaf of bread, some pickles she had made, the leftover roast beef and some oatmeal cookies.
“I’ll take it to him when I go down for target practice,” Houston offered.
“No, I think I’ll take it down myself,” Violet said as she wrapped the lunch up in brown paper and started out the door.
“It’s a little early for lunch,” Harold pointed out.
“I just want to make sure he doesn’t get hungry,” Violet said as she went out.
At the gun shop, Travis looked up as the beautiful widow, dressed in soft blue, entered the store. “Oh, hello, Charlotte. I didn’t expect to see you again.”
She smiled at him. “I’ve decided to give you another chance.”
He shrugged, not wanting to start a row here in the store. “We’re doing a lot of business here with the Fourth of July coming soon.” He wished she’d leave, but instead, she came over to the counter.
“Travis, you intrigue me.”
“Oh?”
“Every man in the county would love to marry me, but the only one I want is you.”
He tried to busy himself with the display under the glass showcase. “You only want me beca
use I’m not available, Charlotte. I’ve got a crippled arm and no money, plus a passel of adopted kids.”
She leaned on the counter and he could smell her expensive perfume and see her big breasts in her low-cut bodice. “I have the money for the best surgeons in the world. I could pay to have that arm fixed.”
“If it were healed, I’d return to being a Ranger.”
She batted her eyelashes coyly. “You wouldn’t settle for running my giant ranch?”
He shook his head. “You can’t buy me, Charlotte.”
“And that’s why I find you so intriguing,” she purred. “Anyway, that’s not what I want to talk about.”
“Oh?” He picked up a pistol out of a case and began to clean it.
“Well, you should know people are beginning to whisper.” She lowered her voice.
“About what?”
“Mind you, I tell them they’re wrong, but people are saying that it’s not proper for a single man to be living with a girl who is in her early teens.”
“They’ve got dirty minds!” Travis snapped and slammed the pistol down. “Violet is innocent and sweet.”
She shrugged and turned away from the counter. “All I know is people are whispering.”
“About what?” He was seething.
“Well, you know—”
“No, I don’t.”
“She’s pretty and there’s just the two of you, and—”
“And four other kids. This somebody had better not be smearing an innocent girl’s reputation.”
“Well, people will talk. I know it’s innocent and you want to protect her and I’d like to help.” She turned and looked out the window.
“How? What do you mean?”
“If you were married or had a housekeeper living there as sort of a chaperone, no one would think there was anything scandalous going on.”
“There isn’t.” He ground his teeth in rage. “Who is smearing Violet’s reputation? I swear I’ll—”
“You can’t fight the whole town.” Charlotte smiled a little too sweetly. “What if I loan you Conchita, my old Mexican housekeeper?”
Travis snorted. “Violet does the housework with some help from the kids and she does a damned good job of it, too.”
“That’s not the point, Travis. Do you want to protect that girl?”
“Of course I do. In Texas, a man will fight to protect a woman’s reputation.”
“Then let me send Conchita to stay a few weeks. Violet will be properly chaperoned and the gossip will die down.”
Travis sighed. “I really don’t want your housekeeper.”
The widow reached over to pat his arm. “I understand, Travis, but you’d do it to protect that young girl from ugly gossip, wouldn’t you?”
He shook her hand off. “Of course I would. I don’t want anyone talking dirty about that sweet girl.”
“It’s settled then. I’ll pack her up and send her over tomorrow afternoon.”
Travis snapped, “This town is getting too much for me.”
“Don’t be silly, dear. It’s just like every other town; idle people need something to talk about and a grown man living with a young girl who isn’t his daughter would cause gossip in any town.”
“It’s not like that, I tell you.”
“I believe you.” Her tone was soft, soothing. “But this will stop the gossip.”
“I can’t have your housekeeper forever. My house isn’t that big.”
“Well, maybe things will change. You might decide to get married.” She smiled up at him and walked to the window. “Oh, here comes the sweet little thing now. I presume she’s bringing you lunch, but in the middle of the morning?” She laughed.
Violet saw the fancy buggy tied up at the hitching rail, squared her shoulders and marched inside the gun shop.
Mrs. Van Mayes leaned over the counter, giggling at something Travis had said. “Oh, Mr. Prescott, you are so witty!”
“Isn’t he though?” Violet said and slammed his lunch down on the counter.
“Violet, what are you doing here?” Travis frowned.
“I thought you might be hungry early,” Violet snapped.
The pretty widow looked annoyed. “How nice that such a young girl is so thoughtful, but you needn’t have bothered. I brought a lovely lunch for Travis.”
The two women glared at each other and Travis cleared his throat in the silent tension of the room. “I’m mighty hungry today, I reckon I can eat two lunches.”
“Or share it with the kids,” Violet said. “Remember you promised to help the boys with target practice during noon today?”
“Oh.” Mrs. Van Mayes looked disappointed. “Travis, I was hoping you’d go driving with me at noon.”
Travis shook his head. “I am sorry, Charlotte. I clean forgot I had promised the boys. Houston is hoping to win the shooting prize July Fourth.”
“You know, I donated the prize—a fine black quarter-horse filly named Onyx.”
Travis nodded. “Houston would love to have his own horse.”
The rich widow fluttered her eyelashes at him and touched his hand across the counter. “And I’m sure, with your help, he will.”
Travis blushed. “Oh, I don’t know about that.”
Mrs. Van Mayes frowned at Violet. “Well, now, dear, since you’ve brought your daddy his lunch, I guess you can run on.”
Violet didn’t move. “I thought I’d wait until the boys got here.”
“Oh,” the widow said. “Well, Travis, I guess I’ll be running along. There’s just so much to do on a big ranch, you know. I’ll send Conchita tomorrow. Oh, by the way, there’s a ladies’ choice dance the night of the Fourth. I do hope you’ll be my partner.”
“Who’s Conchita?” Violet asked.
“My housekeeper.” The lady shrugged. “I’m sending her over to help you run your house.”
“Thank you so much, but we don’t need her,” Violet said.
“But—” the lady began and Violet shook her head.
“I said we don’t need her.”
“I think we do,” Travis said in a harsh tone. “Now, Violet, since you’re just a kid, I make the decisions at my house.”
She gritted her teeth. “Whatever you say; after all, you are head of the house.”
Mrs. Van Mayes smiled triumphantly. “I’ll send her over tomorrow.” She went out the door in a swirl of blue silk, her bustle waggling.
Violet looked at Travis. “What’s she talking about?”
“Damned town is beginning to gossip about us,” Travis told her, stepping around the counter.
“I don’t give a damn if you don’t,” Violet said.
They stood facing each other and the air almost crackled with tension. She looked up at him, wanting to go into his arms, hoping against hope that he might reach out and pull her to him.
He hesitated. “Since when do you swear?”
“She’s pushed me about as far as I can take, Travis.”
He looked at her a long moment and she couldn’t read his face. “I think you ought to run along home now,” he said.
“Are we just going to continue like this?” She bit her lip.
“Damn it, what do you want from me?” he snapped. “You’ve lied so much, I don’t trust you anymore.”
“And you just can’t forgive me and start fresh?”
“I don’t know. I keep waiting for the other boot to drop.”
She didn’t meet his eyes. “Suppose there wasn’t another boot? Suppose what I told you is all there is?”
“I’ve been made a fool of once by a woman, Violet. I don’t think I could stand it again. Emily ran off with a gambler the night before our wedding. The whole town laughed at me.”
“I love you. Nothing should be more important than love. Do you love me, Travis?”
“Hell, I don’t know.” He turned and went back behind the counter. She wondered if he had been about to grab her and kiss her.
The bell on the door jangled sudden
ly and plump old Sheriff McClain hobbled in. “Howdy, Travis, Miss Violet.” He doffed his hat. “I need a little extra ammunition for the Fourth.”
“You expecting trouble?” Travis asked.
He laughed and shook his head. “Never much trouble in this sleepy town. I got to be the one to start the three-legged race and the other events, that’s all, so I need my pistol.”
Violet realized she couldn’t continue her conversation and she wasn’t sure there was much to say anyway. “I’ll see you at home tonight,” she said to Travis and then nodded to the old man. “Nice seeing you, Sheriff.”
She started walking home, lost in thought. There didn’t seem to be a good answer for this mess of lies she had woven herself. They couldn’t stay in Pleasant Valley and get married, even if Travis was willing, because it would cause too much gossip since she was supposed to be a kid. The only answer was for her to leave Pleasant Valley right after the Fourth of July celebration.
Tears blinded her as she walked up the dusty road toward home. He must not care about her after all. In fact, it would probably be a relief to him if she did leave town. Then he could marry the rich widow and they would raise the four kids at that fine ranch of hers. That would be best for Travis, and Violet realized she loved him enough to do whatever it took to make him happy.
That evening, Violet stepped around Travis as if walking on scorpions, and even the kids seemed to feel the tension in the house. Travis said little to her and she was afraid to ask what he was thinking, although once, when they bumped into each other in the kitchen, she felt the sparks fly between them.
He stepped back. “Excuse me.”
She stepped back. “That wasn’t your fault, I was clumsy and not looking where I was going.”
For a long moment, they stared into each other’s eyes and she felt drawn to him by his animal magnetism. She looked up at him, wanting him to kiss her, wanting him to—
Then one of the kids came into the kitchen and the spell was broken. Travis fixed her broken door without ever speaking to her.
Violet hardly slept that night and she wondered if he was having the same problem.
Finally dawn came and she rubbed her swollen eyes, got dressed and went into the kitchen. Travis was there first, making coffee. He didn’t speak.
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