Whispers of Moonlight (33 page)

Travis remembered Pine Grove but also saw that changes had been made. There were signs of new housing and several new storefronts. Travis remembered checking with a man on the street concerning a small, blonde woman, but the man hadn't seen her. His next stop had been to inquire at the
Cradwell Tavern and Dance Hall, but he had also come up empty there. It wasn't what he would have called an exhaustive search, but he hadn't had the impression she would go so far out of Denver. Obviously, he'd been mistaken.

Travis stayed on his mount as he rode through town, his eyes scanning the houses and streets. He spotted the post office but decided to leave that possibly resource until he'd had a look around. He didn't know what compelled him to turn, but a block past the stage office he turned down another street. The houses were simple, almost all two stories, some kept up and others left in disrepair. Nothing stood out to him. In fact, while on this street Travis realized that Rebecca might not live in a house at all. It was more likely she lived in a boardinghouse somewhere in town. Just then he heard the voice.

"No! Now stop that. Stop that this instant!"

Travis' head whipped around, and he craned his neck to see through the backyards in time to see a blonde woman go into a two-story white house. His eyes did not catch the two little boys that took off the other way because he was too busy moving Diamond in the opposite direction. He rode back to the main street, counting houses by the backyards, and then counted front yards as he moved down that street. It was the only white house on the street, and the paint looked new. It was remarkably easy to find. Travis tried to think calmly and slow the furious pounding of his heart. What if it hadn't been her? He heard his pulse in his ears as he tethered Diamond to a bush and went up the front porch to the door.

He knocked softly, and when there was no response, knocked louder. A voice called to come in, and Travis did so. He was more convinced than ever that Rebecca lived there, and that gave him boldness to open the door.

Rebecca was not in the mood for company. The boys had just run off, and because they'd been naughty, dumping wash on the floor as they wrestled, Rebecca had two extra loads of washing to boil before nightfall. She was tired and hungry and ready to scream. However, she remembered that someone had come in.

"Just put your bag on the floor and tell me your name," she called from the laundry area that had once been the dining room. From where she was standing, she did not have a view of the front door.

Travis stood very still, letting the sound of her voice wash over him. He didn't answer her but let his eyes take in the front room until they went to the
gated-off archway that led to the laundry room. While he watched, Rebecca swiftly stuck her head around the partition and froze. Their eyes locked. At least Travis thought they might have locked. He was having a hard time seeing her eyes behind the glare of her glasses.

As he stared, she put her hand on the gate and pushed it wide open. She walked through, clearly not able to believe he was here. Travis felt a little uncertain of that fact himself. She didn't look the same, but it was Rebecca. His Rebecca.

"I can't believe you're here," she finally said softly, and again Travis felt pleasure at hearing her voice.

"I got your letter." His voice was rusty with emotion.

"I wasn't sure if you would. I mean, I didn't even know if you were still in Boulder."

"I'm still there, and we're still married," he said evenly, working hard to keep his voice steady.

Rebecca nodded, still looking bewildered. Travis was there, in her living room. And he looked absolutely wonderful. His eyes were clear, and he was as tall and handsome as ever. For the first time since she ran, Rebecca regretted the way she kept herself. It was with effort that she didn't pluck at her ugly dress and try to offer some sort of explanation. However, the sound of childish voices and the back door slamming put all such thoughts from her mind. She looked over in time to see Wyatt fly into the room.

"Mama, I'm not playing with him anymore. I hate Gary! I—" Wyatt cut off when he saw the very tall man at the front door.

"Just go out and make the best of it," Rebecca said swiftly to her son when she saw Travis' stunned look.

"Who's that?" Wyatt asked, but Rebecca had a hand to his back.

"Go now, Wyatt. Do as I tell you." Rebecca breathed a sigh of relief when he looked around her only one more time and went out the kitchen door. Rebecca turned back to the room to find Travis' eyes pinned to her.

"You have a son?"

Rebecca swallowed. She had sent the letter, so certain he would no longer be at
the ranch, or just as certain that he would reply and tell her to stay out of his life. But here he was in her living room.
Deal with this, Rebecca- You deal with everything else; now deal with this!

Her chin came in the air. "Yes."

Travis' mind had run in many different directions, but never to this. How old had
the child been? He couldn't tell; he didn't know that many children. But that wasn't the difficult part—obviously Rebecca had found someone else with whom to share her life. No wonder she wanted to know if they were still married.

"Well," Travis said inanely, but nothing else would come. He stood wishing he could turn back
the hands of time and just write Rebecca the answers to her questions. Travis had never known such pain. He'd told Robert he was going without expectations, but clearly
that had not been true. He had never thought Rebecca would turn to someone else. Travis had no idea how long he'd been standing mute when another child came in, another boy, this one with dark hair.

"Mama," he bellowed loudly, "Wyatt says there's a stranger. I want to see him."

"No, Garrett, now run and play."

Garrett didn't argue as he usually did, but he stood and looked at Travis for a few seconds before turning and going out the door.

Travis felt worse than ever, but he wouldn't have let Rebecca know this for the world. He forced himself to sound normal and interested.

"How many children do you have?"

"Two," Rebecca said softly. "Twin boys."

The word "twin" made something like a bell ring in Travis' head. His mind was asking questions he could barely fathom, so his voice was low and Soft when he said, "Twin boys?"

"Yes." Rebecca's was equally low.

"How old are they, Rebecca?"

His heart sank when her eyes went to the floor.

"They'll be five next week."

Travis thought for a moment, and then his eyes slid shut. He felt as if someone had just slugged the air right out of him.

"I have twin sons?" He forced the words past a throat that was closing fast, and Rebecca nodded miserably, suddenly ashamed at the way she'd kept them apart.

Travis turned away from Rebecca for a moment, his hand going to his face. /
have sons. I have two boys. Did you hear that,
Lord? Twins. What will I do?
The question had no more formed in his mind than Travis knew the answer. He turned back to Rebecca and moved toward her so swiftly that she backed
up. He stopped just a yard in front of her.

"Come home with me, Rebecca. I want you and the boys to come home with me. I want them to
see the Double Star."

Rebecca was so stunned that she couldn't move or talk, but she wasn't given time.

"What are their names, Rebecca?"

"The boys?" she asked stupidly.

"Yes. What did you name them?"

"Garrett Wagner and Wyatt Andrew."

Travis held his breath. "Buchanan," he managed. "Do they go by Buchanan, Rebecca?"

"Yes. Garrett and Wyatt Buchanan."

Travis nodded. "They're fine names. Almost five, is that what you said, they're almost five?"

"Yes, on Tuesday."

Travis nodded, his heart swiftly growing possessive. His next words came out as more of a command than he intended, and he found out in a hurry that he no longer knew his wife at all.

"You're coming back with me, Rebecca—you and the boys. It's not right that you're not with me. We'll start packing you today." Travis began to glance
around the room as if looking for crates to do the job, but Rebecca's voice came coldly to his ears.

"I don't think so, Travis."

He slowly turned back to her. Her face was as frigid as her tone.

"You're not really in a position to be telling me what to do. The boys and I will be staying right here in Pine Grove."

Travis' mind backpedaled swiftly, but he was far from through. His voice was kind, but he now wanted answers.

"Why don't you want to come back?"

"That is none of your business."

"I disagree with you. You are my wife, and those boys are my sons. Everything about you is my business."

"Get out, Travis." Her voice was still cold. "You're not wanted here. When you're gone, I'll file for a divorce settlement myself."

Her words shook him to the core, but still he asked her, "Why did you leave, Rebecca?"

"I don't care to discuss that with you, Travis. Now leave."

Travis thought fast. "I will go, Rebecca, if you give me a reason for why you left me."

Her eyes glared at him from behind the glasses, and again her chin went in the air. She was very angry now, and he steeled himself.

"I'll tell you why I left," she nearly hissed. "I left because I found out the real reason you married me! I was in the barn that day Biscuit accused you «jf marrying me for the ranch. I waited and waited for you to deny it, but you just walked away. I was a nightly diversion for you, as well as your ticket to owning your own
ranch. You never loved or wanted
me!"

Travis wasn't surprised at her thoughts, so he did nothing to deny them. It wasn't true, but she would have to learn that for herself.

"Well, I asked, and you told me."

Rebecca nearly blinked at his calm tone.

Travis' eyes went around the room and then beyond her shoulder to the kitchen before he heard the door slam. He spoke almost conversationally.

"It's funny I didn't find you the first time I searched for you."

Rebecca did blink then. "You searched for me?"

"Yes."

"In Pine Grove?"

"Yes, but no one had seen you."

Rebecca took some time to drink this in. Why would he go so far out of the way, unless . . .

"Where else did you look?"

"Name a town."

Now it was Rebecca's turn to feel like the air had been punched from her.

"Good-bye, Rebecca," Travis said calmly. He put his hat on his head and left without another word.

Rebecca's entire frame shook with the magnitude of her feelings. He'd searched for her, and she had sent him away. Wyatt and Garrett were both calling her to the kitchen because they were fighting over a cookie, but Rebecca walked out the front door after her husband. She could see where his horse's hooves had been, but he was gone. Were it not for those marks, she might have wondered if she had dreamed Travis' visit.

Whenever Rebecca found herself on her own, her chin would rise in the air and she would stoutly convince herself that she needed no one. But it wasn't working this time. She wanted to cry Travis' name and chase him down the street. Eventually turning back, Rebecca found the boys destroying the kitchen. She didn't scold them or say a word about the incident, not then or at any point that evening. She was too busy trying to decide if she'd been a fool to write the letter in the first place—or a fool to let Travis leave.

Travis walked into his room at the Pine Grove Hotel and immediately lowered himself into the room's one chair. He didn't know how he had managed to walk out of that house, but the look of stunned surprise on his wife's face told him he'd done the right thing.

"My wife. Lord, I've found my wife," Travis' joyful heart whispered to God. "I'm not leaving here without her or the boys. I don't think You would want me to do that. Maybe You want me here—obviously she has a business she's running—but we have to be together. The ranch waits for us. Please give me the words to help her see."

He felt physically drained but knew he would have to rouse himself for the bath he'd ordered. He remembered the time when Jesus had fallen asleep in the bottom of a boat that probably had water standing in it. He'd been so tired that He would have slept through the storm if His disciples hadn't wakened
Him.