Whispers of Moonlight (10 page)

"I appreciate the offer of the room, but I'll decline until I can get a bath and some clean clothes."

"Lavena can do that," Andrew insisted and stood. "Your gear is stowed in the bunkhouse. Lucky is visiting with Rebecca, so I'll have him bring your stuff in, and I'll order you a bath."

Andrew had gone to the door and missed the look on Travis' face, or he would have questioned him. When he gained the
entryway once again, both Rebecca and Lucky were standing there. Travis heard Andrew speaking to Lucky, but he kept his eyes averted.

"Go on up, Travis," he told his new foreman when he had finished with the hand. "Go ahead to your room. Turn right at the top of the stairs. It's the second door on the right.''

Travis was able to mount the stairs without looking at Rebecca. Her eyes, however, followed him to the very top.

"I knew you'd be back," Lavena muttered, pouring hot water over his back. Travis had told her to get out, but she hadn't listened. "I didn't say anything, but I knew you would. I thought that little girl was going to waste away to nothing."

"Get out, Lavena," Travis said, and this time she heard the tone.

"You don't think she's fallen for Lucky, do you?" Lavena was well and truly outraged, but then so was the cowboy in the tub.

"Get out, Lavena, and I mean now."

The older woman drew herself up to her full diminutive height, her chin thrust at an aggressive angle. "Go ahead," she challenged him. "Think what you like. But if you don't claim that girl's heart this day, you're a fool, Travis Buchanan."

She did leave then, but Travis didn't continue to wash. Indeed, it was some time before he noticed the water turning cold. He dried slowly and knew suddenly that he'd made a mistake. How could he stay and watch Rebecca with Lucky Harwell, or any other man?

His eyes suddenly roamed the room he'd been given. It was spacious and comfortable, the bed wide and the floor covered with a thick carpet. Lavena had already put his things in the fine wood dresser, and his few shirts now hung in the builtin closet. On the wall by the door hung a mirror. Travis walked to it. He fingered his jaw as he realized he'd lost weight while in that Denver jail. Since he'd had so little activity, he was surprised. He'd felt it in his clothes, but he'd been so driven to return he'd given little notice. He was still studying his reflection when someone knocked on the door.

"Who is it?"

"Rebecca," came the voice from without. "Lavena said she's putting dinner on."

Travis stood, his hands clenched at his side. Just the sound of her voice was like a knife in his side. He had wondered what he would do if she had forgotten him, but not until he'd heard Lucky's voice did he admit to himself he never really believed he could lose her.

"Travis?"

"I'll be down," he told her curtly, and stood still when he heard her move back down the hall. He knew then that he would stay. Not because he wanted to, but because he couldn't walk away from her just yet. In the weeks to come he'd see her with Lucky, and it would work like a purge. He would be more than ready to leave when spring
finally arrived.

"Happy birthday," Lavena said with a measure of pride, placing the frosted cake on the table. Travis, who had been back a week, turned wide eyes to her when he realized she was talking to him.

"What day is this?"

"February 9," Andrew told him. "Happy birthday."

Travis' mouth opened and shut, and then he turned to Lavena. "How did you know?"

"Grady had some records on you. Biscuit keeps track of the men, so I keep track of the foreman."

With that little bit of news she turned and left them. Travis watched as Rebecca reached for the cake and knife. He thanked her when she passed him the first piece, as always, a picture of gentle politeness. Indeed, Travis was so civil that it chilled her to the bone.

Andrew began to talk business again as soon as he had his cake. Rebecca sat quietly and listened- Her father knew that things had changed between his daughter and the now-permanent foreman. He had already talked with her about it and informed her that it was all
her
fault. He hadn't been cruel or unreasonably harsh, but he never did countenance her having Harwell in on Sundays. It had crushed Rebecca when he'd taken Travis' side. That conversation took place the day after Travis returned, and the wound in her heart was still raw. However, she had not given up on the angry foreman. They finished their cake just a few minutes later, and Rebecca did something she hadn't tried before.

"Travis, would you like to join us in the living room for coffee?"

Travis looked at her, his face expressionless. She'd asked before—she'd asked every night but never in front of her father. And indeed, her plan worked.

"Oh, certainly, Travis," Andrew declared. "Join us. I just have to get some papers from my desk, and I'll be in."

Travis was as tense as a eat. He walked into the living room ahead of Rebecca but did not take a
seat. He was moving around the room, nearly stalking it, when he realized Rebecca stood inside the door watching him.

"Aren't you worried that Lucky might come in and find me here?" The polite mask had fallen away.

Rebecca shook her head. "Lucky came only on Sundays, and anyway, I told him I thought I'd be busy from now on."

"Oh, really," Travis sounded bored. "What will you be doing?" His voice told her he didn't care.

Rebecca shrugged, her eyes miserable. It was almost more than Travis could take, but he kept the wall shored up around his heart.

"I just thought I might be busy." She said the words so softly that Travis almost missed them. He had to turn away from the pain in her eyes. Why had she been seeing Lucky at all if she felt that way? Both of them felt relieved when Lavena came in with the coffee. Not long after, Andrew joined them. Rebecca stayed for an hour but then retired while the men discussed the ranch.

"Travis." Rebecca called his name early Saturday morning, and she could tell she had surprised him. His eyes narrowed as they looked at her, not with anger but in defense.

They were in the upstairs hallway, and Travis knew very well that Andrew had already gone downstairs. Did she know how she looked to him? She was dressed, but there was a morning softness about her, and her hair lay loose on her shoulders.

"What do you want, Rebecca?"

"I just want to talk to you."

"I have work to do."

She sighed. "It's not the way you think," she began, but cut off when he shook his head.

The night before, he'd actually spoken kindly to her. It had been a moment of weakness on his part, but the way he had spoken to her on his birthday had bothered him. He'd been ready to ask her for a walk when someone knocked on the front door. The shutters had gone back into place when Rebecca opened the door and Lucky stood there asking to see her. Travis hadn't stayed around to
see what the two of them did, but he did resolve not to be caught out again.

"I won't fight Harwell for you, Rebecca," he said suddenly.

"I don't want you to."

"Then what do you want from me?"

To have things the way they were. To have you take my hand and look into my eyes.
But she didn't say any of this outloud. Travis was still angry, and she didn't know how to handle his anger. Hannah and Franklin had never been angry with her, and even when her father scolded her, he did so in a kind voice. Travis' biting tone and angry eyes were more than she could take.

"Can't answer me?" Travis went on, more furious than before.

Rebecca's hand came up in supplication. "What do you want from
me,
Travis?"

"I'll show you," he bit out, and before she could guess what he might do, he pulled her into his arms. The kiss he gave her was not nice. His lips crushed Rebecca's tender mouth; his arms locked her against him with bruising strength. Rebecca couldn't cry out, and she couldn't breathe. It was awful. She felt more frightened than she'd ever been in her life, and just as black spots began to dance before her eyes, he loosened his hold. Travis' anger had deserted
him.

The hands that now put her away from him were not angry hands. They were gentle, but it didn't register with the small, frightened woman who stood trembling and feeling very cold.

Travis looked down at his handiwork. Rebecca's hair was a snarled mess, her mouth was already swelling, and huge tears filled her eyes. He wanted to be sick to his stomach. How could he have treated her that way? He wanted to tell her he was sorry, but the words wouldn't come.

He reached to brush the hair from her cheek, but stopped when she flinched. His hand dropped to his side.

"Put a cold cloth on your mouth, Rebecca. Or better yet, some snow. It'll help the swelling."

Rebecca's hand went to her lips as he said this, and it hurt her to touch them. Travis stared at her with regretful eyes before turning to go on his way. He would work the day out, but come dinner he'd tell Andrew that he had to resign. His boss had trusted him, and he'd betrayed that trust.

Travis' plans were honorable, but no one, least of all Travis, could have predicted what the next few hours would bring.

The doctor came from the sick room on Sunday afternoon. Andrew had suffered another spell the night before. He was flat on his back and desperate. Travis and Rebecca stood in the hall, not talking or touching. The doctor had also come Saturday when Travis had ridden into town for him, but now he came out to tell Travis that Andrew was asking for him.