Jodi Thomas - WM 1 Read online

  Leaning against the porch railing to relieve the strain on his leg from standing, Travis tried to remember her hair and wondered if it stayed curly when it grew. He laughed. He’d spent so much time the past ten years trying to stay alive, he realized how a woman’s hair grew had never crossed his mind. But it did now. Everything about his fairy woman drifted in his thoughts. If he had time today he’d write her that he’d like to feel her hair in his fingers. The moment the thought entered his head, he realized it wasn’t a longing, but a need. With each day and each letter he needed to touch her a little more. The letters filled his thoughts, but he craved more. He longed to feel her in his arms. If he wrote how dearly he wanted her, she’d probably never write him again.

  Martha clomped onto the porch. “Cold out here,” she complained to no one. “My bones are getting so old that the only place I’m comfortable from November to May is by the stove.”

  Travis straightened. “Problem?” He knew she wouldn’t be out here pestering him unless she needed something. “The boy all right?”

  Martha nodded. “Sage has him in the kitchen making cookies. He’s eating more than he’s making. She’s singing to him and he loves it. If I were guessing, I’d say maybe he remembers his mother singing to him.”

  Travis relaxed, glad the kid they all called Duck wasn’t in trouble. He didn’t seem to know how to play, but he loved to explore. He could climb like a monkey. Twice they’d had to get the ladder and pull him down from the logs crossing at the ceiling in the main room. The first time Sage gave him a bath, he whimpered like a pup. The second time, he escaped. By the time they got him down, Sage decided to save bathing for another day.

  Martha pulled her shawl around her and shivered. “I hate to ask, Travis, but . . .”

  “What is it?” He knew she spoke the truth, she did hate to ask for any kind of help. He also knew he’d be doing what she requested if it were in his power.

  “Teagen and most of the men are working a downed fence in the north corral,” she said.

  Travis already knew about the fence. The last storm had done major damage. The chances were slight any horse would leave Whispering Mountain land, but this time of year it was safer to keep the stock corralled. It would take several days of hard work, but the fence had to be rebuilt as fast as possible. They didn’t just raise horses, they raised the best in Texas.

  Martha continued. “Tobin is in the barn with two mares who were hurt when they got into the rocks during the rain. He said one could foal any day.”

  Travis also knew every detail of Tobin’s problems. One of the mares might have to be put down if Tobin didn’t watch the cuts and keep them clean.

  “So.” He turned to Martha. “You need my help.” It appeared he was the only one left.

  She nodded. “With Sage making cookies every day, I need supplies. I noticed you’ve been handling the wagon around the place and wondered if you’re up to a run to town.”

  “I am.” Travis knew he’d probably hurt like hell when he got home, but it would be good to see something other than the inside of the place and the view from the porch. His leg had finally grown strong enough to make it the few steps into Elmo’s without a cane. “With one stipulation. I go alone.”

  Martha understood. Sage loved riding along, but if she went, Duck wouldn’t stay with Martha, so he’d have to ride along, too. Travis left it up to Martha to talk Sage into staying.

  Thirty minutes later, with Martha’s list in his pocket, Travis pulled out of the yard and headed to the trading post. The morning was cold, but the sky clear. He’d have no problems with the weather, and with the two rifles beneath his seat, he’d ensured he would be prepared for any trouble that he might encounter. This part of the country had been safe the past few years, but now and again some “down on his luck” cowhand would try a robbery.

  Travis made it to Anderson Trading Post with no trouble. Tobin had added a brace on the floor of the wagon a week ago so that Travis could rest his bad leg, and Sage made a pad out of deer hide for the bench. He still needed his cane to walk most of the time, but Travis no longer looked like a cripple.

  However, he was thankful no one sat out on Elmo’s porch when he pulled up. He could take his time climbing from the wagon, and once inside he could buy the boy clothes while Elmo loaded the wagon. With luck, Elmo would go back inside before Travis had to lift himself up on the bench for the ride home.

  The plan worked. He climbed back on the seat just as Elmo came out to load the last box.

  “Good to see you up and about!” Elmo yelled from the back of the wagon. “How’s the boy they brought in from up north last month? You McMurrays letting him out of the cage yet?”

  Travis twisted as much as he could on the wagon seat. “He’s doing great. The first week he wouldn’t get two feet from me without throwing a fit, but Sage bribed him with cookies. Now he’s running all over the place. He usually spends his mornings helping Tobin in the barn.”

  Elmo leaned on the wagon. “He talk?”

  “Not a word. I’m not sure he even understands much English. If the boy ever knew it, he’s forgotten. We’re guessing he’s almost four, so he must have been captured before he was two. From what I saw he was treated more like a dog than a boy while he was captured.”

  “Any hint as to where he might have come from?”

  Travis shook his head. “Unless he can say something, we may never know. He’s not dumb, though. Seems to understand a few words in both Spanish and Apache. He likes to sit by the fire, but won’t get too near a horse. Tobin’s working with him, trying to get him to stand a few feet closer to the corral every day, but he seems happiest when all is silent and he’s close to the fire.”

  Elmo laughed. “He aughta be right at home with you boys. Ain’t one of you’ll pass more than a few minutes talking.”

  Travis didn’t answer or take offense. He figured Elmo was just stating a fact. The McMurrays had never had much to say to outsiders.

  The trading post owner headed back toward the store, then turned. “I almost forgot. You got another letter from that Sam fellow in the San Marcos settlement. Must be a good friend. This is the third or fourth one in less than two months.”

  Years of watching his every move, every emotion, kept Travis from yelling or reaching too fast for the letter.

  Elmo took his time handing it over, examining the envelope as if it held a clue. “What do you reckon a man would have on his mind to write so many letters?”

  “I wouldn’t know.” Travis took the paper and shoved it into his pocket. “You pack the boy clothes?”

  Elmo nodded, then waited, as if hoping for more information about the letter.

  “I’d better be getting back.” Travis circled the wagon and headed toward Whispering Mountain. He didn’t look back. He knew the trading post owner was watching from his porch. He also knew he and the letter would be the topic of conversation around the stove for the next few days.

  He thought of waiting until he got home to open the letter, but knew there would be the unloading of supplies, and by then Martha would have lunch ready. Sage would follow him around asking questions. She’d want to know who he saw and what he said. Sundays were her only day to go visiting, and she usually didn’t leave the ranch without one of the brothers tagging along complaining about a need to get back before they even left the property.

  Travis touched the letter in his pocket. He’d written her four times in the past month. Mostly, he talked of the boy. There were so many things he wanted to say. Questions he wanted to ask. Each letter he felt he’d be a little more honest. In a strange way they were getting to know each other on paper.

  With a sudden jerk Travis stopped the wagon. He could wait no longer. Glancing around to make sure no one followed, he pulled the letter from his pocket. He told himself not to let the little woman he hardly knew matter to him, but it was too late. She did matter.

  Travis swore. She’d lied to him about everything, including her name. She
’d stolen two horses out from under his nose and run when he’d told her to stay. He laughed. “Sounds like the perfect woman for me,” he mumbled as he opened the letter.

  My dear Travis. She used his first name as if they were friends and the dear as if she cared for him. Travis smiled. He would do the same if he knew her name. Strange how he knew the feel of her and not her name. He read further.

  At first her account of the two women plotting a murder appeared humorous. Women planning to kill some no-good man didn’t seem like it would be all that unusual a conversation. He could almost picture his fairy woman curled up in her bed by the window as she listened.

  Then it occurred to him that if the barmaids were serious, and R. had overheard them, she might be in real danger. He’d noticed over the years that once a person kills, it’s not all that hard to kill again.

  He reread the letter. She’d left no hint as to where she was, but he knew it could not be anywhere near San Marcos. Unless the settlement had experienced a grand growing spurt, there was no alley where saloons framed in one side and three-story homes were on the other side.

  Travis folded the letter into his pocket and drove home. By the time he reached Whispering Mountain, he’d made up his mind about two things. One, Miss R. could be only one place close enough and big enough to fit her writing . . . Austin. And two, he planned to be on his way there by morning. The least he could do was find her and warn her.

  He might not be able to handle a horse yet, but he could manage a wagon. The trip would take longer, but it made more sense than staying at the ranch spending his days worrying about his fairy.

  All he had to do was come up with a reason to leave, and it had to be something besides mentioning the letters.

  By dawn the next morning his plan had a few problems. He’d explained that night at supper that since he’d read all the books on law for the state and he’d been enforcing those laws for ten years, he planned to take one of the wagons to Austin and sit for the state bar exam. All he needed was for a district judge to call together a panel of practicing lawyers who would ask him questions. If he made it past the panel, he could serve a short internship and then begin his own practice. Judge Gates had been trying to talk him into doing just that for several years. Maybe it was time he listened to the old man. Or, Travis thought, used the bar as an excuse to go to Austin.

  While his leg healed, he had to do something, and Travis explained that becoming a lawyer would be as good a way to spend his time as sitting on the porch watching the weather.

  No one in the family thought his plan sound. They also didn’t hesitate to say so. Sage thought he should wait until spring when the weather would be better. Tobin said if he waited a month then the two horses he had to deliver would be ready and he’d go along. Teagen saw no need for a lawyer in the family. In fact, he pointed out that most of the lawyers he met spent more time trying to break laws rather than uphold them. Travis would only be putting himself in rotten company by passing the bar.

  When his siblings saw they were getting nowhere, Sage switched strategies. “If you think you have to go now, and you’re taking a wagon anyway, I might as well go along, too. All of you have said I could go to Austin as soon as I grew up.”

  Teagen stood up from the table and tossed his napkin down. “Whatever for?”

  Sage jumped and faced him as if they were the same height. “Because I’m tired of waiting around for the perfect man to accidentally fall onto the property. I’m almost nineteen and haven’t even met a man I’d consider marrying, much less one who likes me. Maybe if I go to the capital, I’ll bump into one.”

  All three brothers ganged up on her. They shouted all the obvious holes in her plan. She was too young. Austin was a wild town with almost a thousand people. It could snow, or rain, and they’d be stuck by the side of the road. They could be robbed.

  Sage faced them all. “I’m not too young. I’m almost an old maid. Teagen, you and Tobin can’t leave the ranch right now, but I could ride along with Travis. If there’s trouble, I could help.” She dared one of them to argue.

  Travis opened his mouth, but Duck caught his eye before he could say anything. The kid had been playing with a ball on the stairs, but he now stood facing Travis with a look of terror in his eyes.

  Before Travis could say a word, the boy ran toward him. He’d somehow sensed Travis was talking about leaving.

  As he did several times a day, Travis leaned and lifted Duck up. Though they’d fed him for weeks, he still weighed nothing. It had taken over a week for the boy to let Travis out of his sight, and now he held to Travis as he had that first night. His little bony arms circled Travis’s neck as if they didn’t plan to ever let go.

  Tobin moved closer and whispered, “He’s afraid you’re going to leave him behind.”

  The argument about Sage going to Austin was forgotten as they all realized their yelling had frightened Duck.

  “He’ll be all right here at the ranch.” Travis said the words, but he didn’t believe them any more than the others did.

  “He’ll run,” Tobin warned. “I can feel it. If you’re not here, he’ll run just like he did when the Germans tried to keep him.”

  Travis didn’t have to close his eyes to see the cage. The memory of Duck’s small hand gripping the bars would forever stain his mind. He wouldn’t . . . couldn’t . . . allow anyone to chain the boy up, not ever again. He wanted to go help his fairy woman. He wanted to make sure she was safe. But not if it meant seeing Duck locked up somewhere on the ranch. It might be weeks before he could get back, and the progress they’d made with the boy would be forgotten by then.

  Teagen stepped closer and cupped the back of the boy’s head. “He might be all right for a few hours without you. We managed to keep him busy while you drove into town, but come nightfall he’d start looking for you.”

  Sage agreed. “He’s happy with me most of the time, but now and then I notice him looking around, nervous and on edge until he sees you.”

  Travis knew they were right. Duck was content to play around the house, even watching Sage and Martha cook while Travis read in the study. But every night he stayed close, refusing to go to his bed in front of the fireplace until Travis lowered himself into his bunk in the study. Only then would Duck climb beneath his covers and close his eyes.

  He awoke to the sound of Travis reaching for his cane every morning. He might stay with Sage in the house for a while, but all of them had noticed the way he watched the door whenever Travis went for a walk.

  “In time, he’ll trust all of us,” Tobin added. “But right now you’re his mother duck. You’re the one he needs to be near to feel safe.”

  Duck loosened his grip and raised his head. He stared at Travis as if trying to understand what was going on. The boy was smart. Picking up a hundred things a day it seemed. Travis knew he couldn’t understand English, yet he’d sense something was happening and he’d been frightened. How scared would he be if he thought Travis abandoned him.

  “If I go with you,” Sage said, “I could watch out for him while you take the test if that’s what you want. And we could check with all the authorities about finding his family. I’d also ride shotgun during the trip. I’m as good a shot as Tobin and a much better campfire cook.”

  Travis didn’t like the idea of taking Sage off the ranch, but they couldn’t make her a prisoner here any more than they could cage Duck. When he’d been her age, nothing would have stopped him from leaving. He glanced at his brothers. Though Teagen still frowned, Tobin nodded slightly in understanding.

  “If you go,” Travis began, “we leave before dawn and make the Wilson Trading Post by nightfall. They have a second-floor loft for their daughters. You can bunk in with them the first night.”

  “And the second?”

  “By the afternoon of the second day we’ll be into country where farmhouses are closer together. Any farmer will let us sleep in the barn. By the third night we’ll be at Fort Croghan. From then on we ca
n follow the stage trail into Austin. If we have to stop, we’ll find lodging at the stations, but I can’t promise anything clean.”

  Sage whirled around. “It doesn’t matter.”

  Tobin laughed. “You say that now, but wait until you feel the bite of a bedbug or a roach crawling across the bridge of your nose while you sleep.”

  Sage made a face. “I don’t care. I have to pack. I’ll take a small bag for the trip and Father’s old trunk to hold all the clothes I’ll buy in Austin. Imagine, I’ll get to eat at a café and walk Congress Avenue and shop in stores that carry more than three dresses. I might even find one of those ladies’ shops where they make a dress just for me.”

  As she disappeared, Tobin leaned closer to Travis. “You’re taking a monster, you know that, don’t you? She’s had her money building up from the profits of the ranch for the past eighteen years. She can buy half of Austin if she takes a mind to.”

  Travis nodded. “I have a feeling we’d never make it back on horseback. Lucky we’ll have the wagon.”

  “Are you sure you’re up to the journey?”

  Travis wasn’t about to let his brothers see his doubt. “It’s time, and, much as I hate to admit it, Sage will be a lot of help. This leg will never get any stronger unless I start testing it.”

  The next morning with enough food to last a week and several buffalo hides to sleep on if needed, Sage, Travis, and the boy left for Austin. Teagen and Tobin rode with them as far as the bridge.

  Travis knew he should be thinking about the half-baked plan he’d invented as a reason for the journey, but finding his fairy woman was all that weighed on his thoughts. He’d read the last lines of her letter so many times he could say the words with his eyes closed.

  Once he was in Austin, he could always say he couldn’t find a judge willing to test him or let him intern. Or he could even say he’d changed his mind. Or, maybe, he might try for it. At worst, being a lawyer might help him be a better Ranger once he healed enough to ride.