Read Sweetwater Online

Authors: Dorothy Garlock

Sweetwater (45 page)

BOOK: Sweetwater
9.95Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Trell’s letter was from his sister-in-law, Mara Shannon. Jenny’s letters were from her uncle Noah and one from the Indian Bureau. Jenny placed hers on the mantel to read later and helped Granny set the table for the noon meal.

“Mara Shannon and Pack are coming out in a few weeks.” Trell announced when he finished reading his letter.

His smile was lopsided because of the injured muscles in his cheek; however, the salve Granny applied daily had kept the scar from being as disfiguring as expected.

“Mara Shannon says they sent a wire off to Cleve Stark and hoped he would be here by now. She also said she hadn’t heard from Travor; and when she got her hands on him, he’d wish he’d taken time to write.” Trell’s eyes smiled into Jenny’s. “Mara Shannon thinks we’re still fourteen years old. I hope you like her, Jenny. She’s been like a second mother to me and Trav.”

“I’ve no doubt that I’ll like her. What will she say about one of her twins taking on an old-maid schoolteacher and two young girls?”

“She’ll say that if I don’t treat you right, she’ll take me to the woodshed! Jenny?” The grin slid from Trell’s face as if a thought had pulled it off. “When things are straightened out back East, you might regret that you married me and feel that you are … stuck here. I’d not fit in your life … back there.”

Jenny went to him, knelt down beside the chair and took his head in both of hers. She spoke in a low murmur for his ears only.

“Even if I had not met you … and I thank God every day that I did, I’d not go back there to stay. I might take the girls, but I’d come back. Life here is fuller, richer, more challenging. When I was younger I had rosy dreams of the man I would someday marry, how many babies we would have, and what we would name them. I’d about given up on finding the man of my dreams, Trell. Then I met you—”

His dark eyes were so clouded with concern that she wanted to hug his head to her breast. That being inappropriate with Granny nearby, she combed her fingers through his dark hair, moving it back from his forehead.

“My life is here, now. With you.”

At that moment, Beatrice stuck her head in the door and yelled:

“Travor’s back! And … and—”

The marshal and Travor rode into the yard. Travor’s eyes were searching the yard for Colleen. Behind him Dillon was leading a horse with the Reverend Longfellow astride.

“Land sakes!” Jenny hurried back to Trell and handed him the crutches. “Come look. The marshal’s back and he’s got the preacher—handcuffed.”

“Godamighty! That’s McCall with two other fellers and they got … holy shit! They got Longfellow … and he’s hog-tied to the saddle.”

“How can that be,
Señor
?”

“Be quiet!”

Hartog lowered the glasses and squatted down in the bushes where they had been since midmorning. The only activity until now had been the peddler’s arrival and departure. The Mexican had been on watch for two days while Hartog was sick. The Murphy woman had come out to move the cow to graze farther along the edge of the pond about noon each day. He had planned to be there today. There was good cover, and she’d not know what happened until she was bound and gagged.

He had considered riding in and taking her, but the Mexican had said Ike was there. That old buzzard carried a buffalo gun and didn’t back down from anything. Mendosa had also reported that the day before a couple of riders had come in with McCall. Hartog knew now the riders were lawmen and figured that they must have left early this morning because there had been no sign of them until now.

Hartog surveyed the area. He and the Mexican were well concealed and would wait a while to see what was going on. The preacher had slipped up someplace along the line. He wasn’t sorry they’d caught the tightfisted old bastard. He was so stingy he’d skin a flea for the hide. The men had done the work, taken the risk, and the old skinflint had sopped up all the gravy.

Chapter Twenty-nine

Colleen’s world was suddenly bright and shining. She felt laughter bubbling up at the most unexpected times. She even pushed to the back of her mind the fact that Travor was leaving and she wouldn’t see him for a day or two. There was no room inside her now for anything but the anticipation of a few minutes alone with him.

The marshal had said good-bye and was walking his horse across the grassland to the trail that led to the road going east and west. Dillon was taking Longfellow to the outhouse.

“If it was up to me, ya fat, slimy little toad, ya could piss yore pants,” he muttered. “Yo’re lucky Marshal Stark’s in charge of ya.”

Travor’s horse was saddled. He would ride a short distance with the marshal and Dillon, then swing off and go to the Double T. It had been a week since he had been there. He explained to Colleen, when he told her that he was going, that he and that Trell owed it to Joe Fiala to let him know what was going on: that Travor and his bride would be there in a few days and that Trell would stay at Stoney Creek with his new wife.

When Colleen approached, Travor took her hand, drew her into the shelter of the cow shed and wrapped her in his arms.

“I don’t want to leave—but I’d rather do it now than later. In a couple of days I’m goin’ to tie ya to me and not make a move without ya by my side.” His voice was husky, teasing, tender, and his lips nuzzled her ear.

Her arms tightened around him. “I’m as much yores now as I’ll be in a few days.”

The feeling of her warm body against his and the scent of her filled his head. Travor swallowed hard. He hadn’t believed that a man could love a woman so much that the thought of losing her churned his guts. He didn’t want to be away from her for even a day. His hand moved up and down her back and over her rounded hips, pulling her close.

“It’s goin’ to take a while for me to get my fill of lovin’ my woman,” he whispered passionately and kissed her long and hard.

“How long?” she gasped when she could catch her breath.

“Forty years … or more—”

She returned his kiss hungrily, feeling the pain of longing in her own loins, pressing against him, her breasts tingling as they had done last night when he caressed them.

“Darlin’ girl.” He raised his head so that he could look into her eyes. “Stick close to the house. I’m not thinkin’ anythin’ will happen, or I’d not leave ya. But to be on the safe side, stay close and let Trell know if ya see a rider, even if he don’t come in.”

“Hurry back!”

“I’ll be back as soon as I can, you can bet on that.”

“I’ll be waitin’.” She gazed at him, her eyes soft with love.

“Kiss me, sweet. It’s got to last a long time.”

His mouth parted her lips seeking fulfillment there. She clung to him, melting into his hard body. The kiss went on and on, both reluctant to end it.

“Trav!” Dillon yelled. “If it’s takin’ ya all this time to kiss that woman, ya better let me do it.”

Colleen tried to pull away. Travor held her to him.

“Trav! They’re waitin’.” She laughed happily after he kissed her again.

“Let ’em wait. Kiss me again or I’ll tell them ya won’t let me go,” he threatened teasingly.

After the kiss, he put his arm around her and they went out of the shed to where the others waited.

“Took ya long enough.” Dillon sat on his horse, a wicked grin on his face. “I could’ve kissed her in half the time.”

He put his heels to his horse to follow the marshal across the grassland. Longfellow on the tethered horse, his bound hands holding on to the pommel, bounced up and down as the horse trotted away from the homestead.

Travor moved his horse near to where Trell leaned on his crutches. Jenny, the girls, and Granny were beside him.

“’Bye, Granny.” He leaned from the saddle and kissed the old lady on the cheek.

“Go on with ya!”

“Make my girl behave. Take care of our women, Trell. I’ll be back late tomorrow sometime if all is well at the Double T. ’Bye, punkin.” He saluted Beatrice and she giggled. “Thanks for the advice, Cass.” He gigged Mud Pie. The frisky horse turned and took off on the run.

“Make sure you heed it, Trav,” Cassandra called.

“What advice is that, Cassandra?” Jenny asked.

“Oh, this and that. I’m going back to the school. I wonder why Indians don’t eat at noon like we do. Whit said they eat in the morning and again in the evening, or whenever they’re hungry. He’s watching them now to see that they don’t eat the chalk.”

“Do you like teaching, Cass?” Trell asked.

“I do, and it surprises me. I’m seeing them more and more as people and not dirty little urchins. I’m thinking seriously about teaching as a profession, not in a fancy academy, but in a school or perhaps a university for Indians.”

“You’re a good teacher,” Jenny declared, then to Trell. “They pay more attention to her than to me. Honey, I want to read my mail, then I’ll be over,” she told Cassandra.

“Take your time. Whit and I can handle it. They have to learn English before you can teach them to read.”

Trell and Jenny watched Cassandra walk sedately up the path to the school.

“I’ve never seen the like of that little girl.”

“I don’t think anyone else has either. She’s strong or she wouldn’t have been able to endure Charles’s abuse and take care of Beatrice as she did.”

“I hope he comes here,” Trell said tightly. “I hope he tries to take the girls. He’ll get his hide nailed to a tree. If I didn’t do it, Trav would. He’s taken a shine to the girls. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so happy and content.”

Jenny laughed and hugged his arm.

“Rest a while. I’ll read my letters then go back to the school.”

Colleen came out of the shed. She carried the forked stick Ike insisted she use to poke around for snakes in the high grass that grew around the pond. She walked along the corral fence looking off in the direction Trav had taken.

“Colleen and Travor are completely suited to one another. She’s crazy about him,” Jenny said, watching Colleen.

“Mara Shannon always said that when Trav found the right woman, he’d give her his heart and soul. He’s found her. And I’ve found mine.”

“I love it here, Trell. I realize I’ve a lot to learn about living in this country. I’ll do my best to be a good wife to you.”

“Sweetheart! I just don’t want you to regret—”

“Shh …” She placed a finger over his lips. “Never, never, never!” Jenny looked quickly around, then placed a quick kiss on his lips.

“You can do better than that,” Trell teased.

“That’s another thing I’ve got to get used to.” Jenny laughed happily. “I’d not dare do such a thing out in the open if we were in Baltimore. But we’re not, thank goodness.”

She kissed him long and lingeringly. He groaned in frustration. He wanted to hold this sweet woman to him but he had to use his hands on the crutches to remain on his one foot.

“In a few days I’m going to touch you all over.” He looked down into her face lovingly. “I’m going to take you to the bunkhouse, lock the door, and not let you out of bed for a week.”

“Mr. McCall!” she exclaimed in mock horror. “You’ve been a very sick man. You shouldn’t engage in … strenuous activities.”

“I’ll take it slow and easy,” he promised, his eyes twinkling.

Jenny moved away from him. “Then rest and get your strength back. You’ll need it!”

Her eyes danced and she couldn’t keep the smile from tilting her lips as she went back to the house. Jenny was so happy that she was scared. She and Trell would live here. Colleen and Trav would be nearby. If she could have chosen another sister from all the women she had known, Colleen would have been her first pick. She and the girls would have a family now to gather around on Thanksgiving, Christmas and other special times.

Granny sat in her rocker sewing on Colleen’s wedding dress. Beatrice played on the floor with Hiram, who was growing out of the puppy stage and would soon be banished to the outdoors.

“Why can’t I go to school?” Beatrice had asked that question a dozen times since the Indian children arrived.

“I’ve told you, honey,” Jenny said patiently. “As soon as the children can speak enough English to start learning the alphabet, you can come to the school.”

“I already know A,B,C,D,E—”

Jenny listened until she finished. “Very good.”

“Cass said I got to learn them backwards.”

“Really? I don’t think that is as important as learning the multiplication tables.”

“Cass learned me the two’s. Want to hear?”

“Taught you the two’s. Not right now, honey. I want to read my letters.”

Trell stretched out on the bed in the bunkhouse. He was tired, but less so than he had been the day before. He was gaining strength, but not fast enough to suit him.

He and Trav were getting married!
It was hard to believe.

He wanted to be standing on his two feet when he married Jenny, but that was impossible unless he wanted to wait a month or two to make her his bride. He would settle for one foot and one crutch.

His thoughts went back to the days on the ranch near Laramie. He and Trav, only fourteen years old, were trying to sober up their father the morning after their mother died. He remembered standing in the kitchen and Pack telling them that he and Mara Shannon were married and they were to live there with them, and Mara Shannon saying it was time they had some schooling if they were going to fulfill their dream of having a horse ranch.$$$

Trell could almost see how Mara Shannon would beam when she met Jenny and Colleen. She would have tears in her eyes and tell them how happy she was that her
boys
would be starting families of their own.

He was dozing and daydreaming when Jenny came into the room excitedly waving the letters McGriff had brought from Forest City. Instantly alert, he sat up in the bed.

“Trell!” She came to sit on the side of the bed and push him back down on the pillow. “I got custody of the girls! Dear blessed Uncle Noah took my case to state court. That’s not all. Oh, you’ll have to hear it for yourself. Let me read you the best part.

“After Tululla put out the word about how cruelly they had treated the girls. Margaret was snubbed by the ladies, and Charles’s church lost most of its membership. The bloody bastard couldn’t stand the heat. He and Margaret left for New York to board a ship for CHINA. They’re going to carry the gospel to the heathens there.

BOOK: Sweetwater
9.95Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Except for the Bones by Collin Wilcox
Lie to Me by Verdenius, Angela
Our Black Year by Maggie Anderson