Whispers of Moonlight (2 page)

"He is," Lucky told him, all enthusiasm returning. "He talked to me about it just today."

"How many cattle you running?"

"Fifteen hundred head."

"What direction is this ranch?"

"North. Straight out through the center of town and then to the left at the fork in the road." Again, his age and excitement showed on his face and in his movements.

"Well, I'll have to ride out there. Who do I ask for?"

"Grady. He's foreman. Or Mr. Wagner if he's around."

Travis nodded and moved to stand. Lucky saw his intentions and shot up ahead of him. He enjoyed being taller than most men, and the girls liked it too. He didn't want to be caught sitting down. He was certain that if Travis saw how tall he was, he'd also recognize his importance at the Double Star. Unfortunately, his view of Travis Buchanan from across
the room had been deceiving. Travis stood to full height until he looked down at Lucky from a difference of at least five inches. Lucky's pride in his six-foot frame all but crumbled at his feet. And if that wasn't enough, the bartender's daughter, Gloria, a girl he had dated a few times, was now hanging over the bar staring at Travis as though her dreams had come to life.

"Thanks for the information," Travis said, and Lucky had to drag his attention from Gloria.

"I'll ride with you," Lucky managed. As disgruntled as he was with the way things had turned out, he had to be at the ranch when this man made an appearance.

Travis, who obviously felt no need for small talk, was headed toward the door. Lucky grabbed his hat and left on Travis' heels.

"You passin' through or here for a time?"

"That all depends on the work," Travis told Grady.

The older man nodded. He was as impressed as Lucky had been. Travis Buchanan was clean-shaven, something he was partial to, and had a calm, professional air about him. In truth, he was foreman material, but Grady wasn't worried about his position. He was more Andrew Wagner's age than this new man, and the two of
them thought much alike.

"You can start in the morning, if you've a mind to." He named the wages and mealtimes, and Travis nodded. Lucky was lingering in
the background, so Grady called on him to take Travis to the bunkhouse and show him around. From there Grady went inside to tell Andrew they had hired a new hand. He moved toward
the office, but the door was shut. It was the only time the boss was not to be disturbed, so Grady left word with
the housekeeper and went back out to work.

Inside the office, Andrew was sitting at the desk, his hand to his chest. The
awful pain was on him again, this time so intensely mat he could hardly breathe.
On the desk before him was a letter from Rebecca, and he hadn't even had the strength to open it. His breathing came hard and fast for a time, and he laid his head back on the leather chair and waited for the worst to pass. It crossed his mind, as it did often, mat one of
these days it was not going to pass. This time the thought drove him to prayer.

"If You're really up there, God," he began, "please bring Reba to me. I need her here. I need to show her the ropes, so this ranch won't go to pieces when I'm gone. In the past it's been my fault that she's not here, but now Hannah has lost her mind, God. I know it. She's keeping my girl from me. I'll make a deal with You. If you get Reba here, I'll go to church every week. I promise I will."

Another pain gripped him and he couldn't think for a time. When it finally receded, he had a terrible headache but still thought of Rebecca's letter. He opened it with a shaky hand, laid his head back again, and read.

It's dreadfully hot here. Papa. I envy you the cool of the mountains.
The sentence made Andrew's heart leap, since she had stopped asking to come over a year ago. His hopes were dashed on
the next line.

I'm off with friends to the lake tin's weekend. Marcus mill be with us. I told you about him. He lost his arm in the tear. I've never met anyone like him. He has such a natural humor. I know he'll have us laughing every minute.

Andrew couldn't read anymore. Clearly she had made a life for herself. How many years had she asked to join him, and he had put her off? It had taken so much longer to settle
than he had anticipated. And then the war. Travel had been out of the question. The war had been over for five years, and indeed, he had finally made a home for
them.

He had considered sending someone from Boulder to Philadelphia in order to fetch her, but he could tell from Hannah's
overprotective letters that she would never allow it. It really was his fault that she wasn't with him already. He'd been a fool concerning the political situation—even Lincoln had been shot—and even more of a fool mat he'd wanted Rebecca to come only if she could live in
the lap of luxury. Now he was ready to have his daughter join him
in one of the most beautiful homes in the state, but his declining health made him helpless to do anything toward getting her there. In the past all of his letters concerning the situation had been to Hannah, but Andrew now wondered if he shouldn't tell Rebecca to make plans herself.

She had a good head on her shoulders. She'd been educated in the finest schools. The thought gave him hope, and he even felt like finishing her letter to him. Rebecca chattered on about her social life and ended with how much she loved and missed him, but Andrew read it absently. A plan was forming in his mind.

Travis rubbed the back of his neck and slapped his hat against his leg in an attempt to dislodge the dust. He was hot and dirty, and all he wanted was a bath, food, and bed—in that order.

"Some of the boys are going into town tonight," Grady told Travis as he threw a saddle over the stable wall. "You goin'?"

Travis* head came up. He looked at the older man from over the top of his mount and then went back to the task at hand.

"No, I'm tired of the
saddle."

"They'll probably borrow a wagon," Grady informed him.

Travis turned slowly and looked at him. "What are you really asking, Grady?"

After a month of working together, they knew they could both speak their minds.

"I just thought if you were going in, I wouldn't have to worry about anyone being shot or thrown in jail."

A slow smile stretched across Travis' mouth. "No thanks, Grady. You'll have to get someone else to do your babysitting."

The older man grunted, but he wasn't angry. It had been a long week, and he didn't want to go into town on a Saturday night either. He could hardly blame Travis for sharing the feeling. Lucky had a pretty good head on his shoulders, but he was young enough that none of the other men would listen to him. Nothing more was said, but Grady gave Travis a good-natured thump on the chest when he passed.

As Travis was leaving the huge barn, he noticed the ranch cook. Biscuit, stepping to the bell in front of the mess hall. It was early for dinner, and the dusty hand would have enjoyed a bath first, but he was hungry. He changed directions and moved to the long, narrow building.

The bell rang in his car as he passed.

"You're always first in line," Biscuit snapped at him in his usual cantankerous manner.

"I don't know why I bother," Travis countered from far above Biscuit's head as he kept moving. "The food is never fit to eat."

"Why you—" Biscuit began, but cut off when they were joined by the other men.

Neither cook nor ranch hand meant any of it. Biscuit and all the men seemed to like Travis enough to give him a hard time. He did his job and was fair and honest. There wasn't a man on the ranch who didn't respect him. Travis himself was well-pleased with the job, feeling as though he'd landed on his feet
for the winter. The pay was decent, and the living quarters more than adequate. Travis teased Biscuit about the food, but he'd had worse. He had only met the owner a handful of times, but Mr. Wagner seemed to be a fair man as well.

He would have continued to dwell on Mr. Wagner a little longer had Travis only known he was the topic of conversation in the office right then between the owner of the Double Star and Grady.

"I know it will be a cold ride, but I want you to go."

"All right," Grady agreed. "Are you going to act as foreman?"

"No, I want Buchanan to do it."

Grady nodded. He would have preferred to send Travis on the cattle drive, but he didn't mind going. Coming home was worth the time away.

"Just drive 150 head into the Denver stockyards, see the auction master, and when you have my money in your pocket, get yourself home," Andrew told him. "We should have moved them earlier, but I think you can still make it before heavy snowfall."

"All right. Are you talking to Travis, or am I?"

"Tell him to come see me."

Travis was just finishing his meal when Grady approached. He didn't bat an eyelash when told that Andrew Wagner wanted to see him, but wished again that he'd been given time to bathe. He made the large ranch house in record time, his long legs eating up the distance, and was surprised at how stark the interior was.

Needs a woman's touch.
He couldn't figure out where that thought had come from. Unfortunately, it left him scowling when he met his boss.

"I hope that frown isn't for me," Andrew commented, "but you've just come from Biscuit's cooking, and that could make any man scowl." He smiled, and Travis smiled in return.

"Grady said you wanted to see me, sir."

"Yes, I do."

Andrew mapped out his wants for the next few weeks. Travis was more than happy to fill in as foreman and take the raise in pay as well. He would be working closer to Mr. Wagner, which suited him fine. He genuinely liked the man. Travis left the ranch house just 20 minutes later, once again applauding himself for landing on his feet.

Ten days later, Travis sat across the dining room table from Andrew Wagner, knowing it was going to be difficult to have Grady return. A foreman's life was one of great responsibility, but it also included a few perks: Dining with the boss and enjoying Lavena's cooking were just two of them.

"How does the south pasture look?"

"Excellent."

"And the stock—it's healthy?"

"Very- No calves left, of course, but the young heifers are already getting fat."

Andrew nodded and took another bite of beef.

"I've got pie," Lavena said by way of greeting. The housekeeper had come from the kitchen to check on them. She was the smallest woman Travis had ever seen, too thin and very short as well. It was impossible to place her age, although her hair was completely gray. She was cantankerous, but Travis still smiled at her. She scowled at him for his efforts, but knowing she was all show, his smile broadened.