Texas Rain

CHAPTER 21

Travis got to the cafe early so that he could have Duck settled in a chair when Rainey arrived. For once, he hoped the boy wouldn't pick up on what the adults were talking about.

He'd enjoyed spending the morning with Duck. Because the Baileys and Sage had gone to church, Travis cooked a late breakfast of fried eggs over toasted raisin bread, then they'd taken off on a walk about the town. Duck grew braver each day, no longer holding on for dear life every time they passed a stranger. Sage had been right, the trip was good for him.

She'd bought him a new pair of trousers and a matching coat. The vest he now wore didn't make him seem so thin, and Travis hoped it would keep him wanner.

Dr. Bailey gave the boy a top, and Duck found it fascinating to wind the string around the brightly colored wood. Travis showed him several times how to spin it, but for Duck the fun seemed to lie in the winding, which made for a great toy at the cafe.

While Travis watched the door, Duck sat close to him winding and rewinding the top. The third time the waitress stopped to ask if they'd decided on one of the three choices on the menu board, Travis ordered for the boy. He wasn't sure Rainey planned to eat; after all, he'd only said they should met. This way Duck could eat while they talked. If she agreed to join him for lunch, Duck would sit quietly watching the people pass the window while they ate.

A few minutes later when the waitress delivered Duck's plate of food, she smiled and asked, "Is Miss Adams joining you again?"

Travis had to think for a moment who she might be talking about, then he quickly said, "I believe so. That is, if she doesn't get tied up." He knew he was pushing it, but he added, "Do you know her well?"

The waitress laughed. "Not at all, she's usually in a hurry when she makes her deliveries here. I have had a few people offer me money if I'll tell them her secrets."

Travis frowned.

She tapped his shoulder. "Don't worry, even if I knew, I wouldn't tell. Pies that good should be magical, not just made from a recipe. I thought that was real cute of her to order one of her own creations last night." She winked at him. "And smart of you to eat both slices."

A customer called from another table and the waitress disappeared. Travis pieced the puzzle together, except for one part. Where did Rainey Adams make the pies? She obviously made enough to live on, so she had to bake a great many, but where? Not the Askew House or she wouldn't have been coming home so late last night. If she had a home, she would be living there and not at the boardinghouse.

One mystery about his fairy was solved. He now knew how she'd gotten those burns on her hands.

He smiled, deciding to keep his new knowledge to himself. Let her have her last little secret. He'd learned quite a lot this morning.

By the time Duck finished his meal, Travis had stopped watching the door. It was almost one o'clock. If she'd planned to meet him, she would have been there by now.

"Want to do some more walking about town?" Travis asked Duck as he dropped a few bills on the table.

The boy didn't answer, but when Travis stood, he gathered up his top and string and slipped his little hand in Travis's. The Ranger didn't miss the way Duck always walked on his right side so that he didn't interfere with the cane. Duck was smart; he'd talk in time.

They walked one block after another in no particular direction. He didn't bother to go past Askew House; she wouldn't be there. As far as he knew she had no friends, except the few ladies she'd met at the boardinghouse. Somewhere in this town she was probably baking, but he didn't even know who to ask.

When they walked past the Ranger station and jail, Travis decided to stop in and see if there were any news about the Norman brothers. He might as well report in on his failure to collect any new information from the barmaid. Maybe Dillon would assign someone else to give it a shot.

Mike Saddler was the only man in the office and he didn't look happy. Travis pulled a stool by the window and swung Duck up on it so he could watch folks passing and still feel safe.

"I'm glad you're here," the young Ranger said the moment Travis gave Mike his full attention. "I can't get the prisoners to quiet down. They keep yelling or asking for things I don't know if I'm supposed to give out. Dillon left for lunch and told me to be careful around them, but they scare me, if you want to know the truth."

"Ignore them," Travis suggested as he poured himself a cup of the strong coffee they all called Pecos mix because it was as thick as the river bottom mud in the Pecos River.

"I can't," Mike answered. "All my upbringing tells me that wouldn't be polite. I'm not trained for this."

"Throw a bucket of water on them. That usually settles drunks and fighters down," Travis mumbled as he broke off a hunk of hard bread and dunked it in his coffee to make the bread eatable and the coffee sweeter. It wasn't much of a meal, but he'd missed lunch waiting for Rainey.

Mike scrambled his hair as if his head hurt. "I can't throw water on ladies, but I'm not sure I should give one the brush she keeps asking for, and the other one has told me twice that it's past teatime."

"Ladies?" The young Ranger finally had Travis's attention.

"Yeah, one's a widow and the other is younger but just as pretty. Both of them look so proper you'd think they'd never steal a thing, but Dillon caught them last night red-handed."

Travis thought of a green-eyed girl he knew who looked to innocent to steal.

"One of them got blond hair and green eyes?" It was a long shot, but he had to ask.

"Yeap. She's the one who wants the brush."

"What did they steal?"

Mike continued scratching his head. "Wine. Can you believe that? Dillon said once they were caught they offered to pay for the bottles, but the saloon owner insisted we lock them up. It don't make no sense, but we've got to wait until tomorrow morning to get the judge to figure it out. The widow claims her husband used to own the cellar they were climbing out of and that she was only taking some of his wine. If that's true, it don't seem like we got much of a crime spree going."

Travis had already moved near the door leading to the cells. "Mind if I take a look at these women?"

"Go ahead, but if you poke your head in there, the young one will throw something at you. She hit Roy with her shoe this morning. Blacked his eye."

"It can't be her," Travis mumbled as he walked through the door leading to two cells reserved for short-term guests of the state.

He noticed a well-dressed woman in black standing by the window. She had her eyes closed and the sun was warming her face. She could have been a painting of the Madonna. He'd never seen a woman look less like a criminal.

Then he saw Rainey a few feet away. She was storming back and forth across the cell like a caged cat. Her skirt had mud all over it, and her hair was a mass of curls.

"Damn it, Rainey!" Travis yelled. "Why'd you stand me up for lunch?"

She turned and stared at him as if amazed such a nitwit could talk. "I'm sorry." She squared her shoulders and put her fists on her hips. "I seemed to have been detained."

Then both women laughed.

Mike ran in behind Travis. "You know this woman?" Suddenly his boring assignment became very interesting. "You know her, McMurray?"

"Know her?" Travis swore. "I plan to marry her when she gives up her life of crime."

One glance at Mike's face, and it was Travis's turn to laugh at how ridiculous he sounded. If Mike had any sense, he'd lock him up with them. But then, of course, he'd have to arrest Duck as well, for the boy would never leave his side.

Travis tried to explain. "I had scheduled a lunch with Miss Adams without knowing she planned a crime spree before meeting me."

The widow giggled. When Travis glanced at her, she was smiling so mischievously, he couldn't help himself-he winked at her. He'd bet a month's pay that Rainey had told the widow all about him.

Rainey was not amused. "I never promised to have lunch with you in the first place, Travis, so don't go trying to add that to my list of crimes."

Mike looked torn. He admired Travis and didn't want to do anything to make him angry, but he had no authority to unlock a cell. He also had never seen McMurray laugh, not in three years of riding from here to the border with him.

"You telling me to let them out?" Mike asked, trying to guess what was going on.

"No," Travis answered. "Lock me in with them. I'll have a talk with these two dangerous outlaws." Travis heard the stool he'd sat the boy on hit the floor as Duck must have jumped off it. He ran to Travis's side, telling all that anywhere the tall man went, he went as well.

When Mike pulled the door open and stepped aside, Travis and Duck walked into the cell. "Bring us some coffee, would you, Mike?" Travis asked. "And make a fresh pot. I have a feeling it may take more than one cup to straighten this out."

"I prefer tea," Rainey added.

"Wine for me." The widow giggled. "I think there are a few bottles on the desk."

"Coffee," Travis corrected. "Just coffee all around."

Mike disappeared. At last he'd been asked to do something that made sense.

With both women staring at him, Travis walked across the cell and sat down on the bunk, stretching his leg straight to ease the discomfort. Duck stayed right with him. The boy didn't look like he liked the idea of being in a cage, even a big one, but as long as Travis was with him, he'd survive.

Duck sat as close as he could beside Travis and wrapped his thin arm around Travis's elbow.

The widow bent in front of Duck. "What's your name, son?" Her smile softened years off her face, and Travis didn't miss the laugh lines around her eyes. She might be in mourning now, but she'd known happier times. She had a kindness in her eyes that would have taken a master actor to fake.

Duck moved his head behind Travis's arm.

"He doesn't talk, ma'am," Travis answered for the boy, "but we call him Duck."

She peeked at Duck and in a kind voice said, "Well, hello, Duck, my names start with Ds too. I'm Dottie Davis."

Then the widow straightened and stared at Travis. "You'll have to give that boy a proper name. It's your duty as his father. He can't grow into a man with a name like Duck."

Travis started to explain that he wasn't the father, but he figured he was about as close to it as Duck had. He changed the subject. "You used to be a teacher, Mrs. Davis?"

She nodded slightly. "I used to be a lot of things, but right now it appears I'm a criminal."

"I'm sure this is all just a misunderstanding." Travis glanced over at Rainey hoping she knew his words were for her as well. "Sometimes situations look like one thing and in reality they are quite another. I've had a few months to study the law lately, and maybe I can straighten all this out for you two ladies."

The widow took a deep breath but didn't look like she held much hope in his prediction. "Thank you. Are you a lawyer or a Ranger?"

"I'm taking the bar to be a lawyer tomorrow, but right now I'm a Ranger. Travis McMurray at your service."

"Well, Mr. McMurray, how do we go about getting out of this place. You're not going to believe how horrible we've been mistreated. No water to wash, and we had to sleep in our clothes last night. And this morning we awoke to find a strange man standing by the door staring at us." The widow looked about ready to cry. "I'll never get the smell of this place out of my clothes."

Travis glanced at Rainey again. She'd turned toward the window and didn't even look like she paid attention to the conversation. She was the one who stood him up for lunch, who got herself in jail, but she acted as if he should be the one apologizing.

Maybe in kissing her last night he'd gone too far, but it felt so right. She'd seemed fine until he started talking and made a fool of himself asking her to marry him. If he even had another moment alone with her, he swore he'd forget talking all together.

"First lets get the facts right," Travis began. "What were you doing at the time you ran into Ranger Dillon?"

Mrs. Davis straightened as if she were under oath. "Stealing two bottles of wine."

Rainey laughed. "Tell the truth, Dottie. You were only stealing one bottle. I had the other one in my hand."

"Yes, that is right, dear, but you were only holding it until I climbed out of the cellar. So, Mr. McMurray, you need to explain to your friends that they should let Rainey go immediately."

Travis frowned. This wasn't going to be as easy as he thought. He leaned back against the bars. Duck crawled up in his lap and put his head on Travis's shoulder. The tiny boy fell asleep with Travis patting his back.

"Do you want me to hold him?" Dottie asked.

Travis passed the boy slowly to the widow. She cradled him and begin to hum making Travis wonder how women instinctively knew how to do that. She seemed to have forgotten all her problems as she rocked the boy in her arms.

Travis stood and joined Rainey by the window. He raised his hand to the bars a few inches from her head, but made no attempt to touch her. "Were you planning to meet me before this happened?" Travis had no idea why it was important for him to know.

"Yes," she answered. "I needed to tell you that I think Snort and Whiny were only talking. For some reason planning a man's death seems to be their favorite break conversation. I've listened several more nights since I wrote the letter to you and they haven't progressed in their plot."

He relaxed, moving closer so that their conversation became private. "When I saw them last night, I almost laughed out loud. They were exactly as you described them."

Rainey turned from the window and looked up at him. "I've never really seen them clearly. Mostly they're just shadows below. What do they look like?"

He shrugged. "Snort isn't that old, maybe thirty, but her face is lined and tired. The one you call Whiny is thin, bony really, with breasts that look like puppy dog ears."

Rainey's eyes narrowed. "And how do you know that?"

Smiling, he admitted, "We had a few drinks and the strap on her dress slipped. I saw more than I wish I had." He laughed. "Believe me."

To his surprise, Rainey blushed. She held her head high as she asked, "And do you see quite a lot of women's chests in your line of work?"

Brushing his finger over her warm cheek, he whispered, "I don't think we should be talking about this. I shouldn't have said anything." In fact, if anyone would have asked him if he'd ever talk to a young woman and use the word breast, he would have denied it. But, in a funny way, he and Rainey were close friends. Two currents ran between them. One of attraction he'd felt from that first night at the barn dance, and one of friendship that had grown in the letters and in conversations he'd had with her in his mind. He had the feeling she'd known the same kind of conversations.

He wondered what she would say if he told her that he'd never forget the way her breasts felt, firm and round. Just the right size to fill his hand. He brushed his fingers across her hand.

She moved away from his touch. "Can you help us get out of here, Travis? Dottie took the wine for a good cause, and it truly did belong to her late husband."

"If I get you out of here, will you have dinner with me?"

Her green eyes stared directly at him. Poker eyes, he thought, for he couldn't read them at all. "Will you help us no matter what my answer?"

He nodded. How could he refuse?

"Then I will have dinner with you if I'm free tonight, but you have to stop telling people you plan to marry me. I can't marry you. I made a promise to myself when I left home. I want to know what it's like to be free, truly free of a controlling parent or a husband." He caught a glimpse of unshed tears before she lowered her gaze. "We can be friends, Mr. McMurray. That's the most I can promise."

He fought the urge to hold her. Suddenly he was back to being Mister. "Friends is a good start." Travis offered his hand. "I'll see what I can do to get you both out. It's not exactly like you're a criminal and have stolen before." He frowned and ignored his own words.

After checking that Duck was sound asleep, he slipped from the cell and disappeared. There was only one place to turn on a Sunday afternoon for justice.

Ten minutes later he was back with a stocky little man in a wrinkled suit by his side.

When Mike let them both in the cell, Travis introduced the man as Judge Gates.

The judge sat down beside the widow and said in a calm voice. "Now tell me all your story, madam. If Ranger McMurray thinks this problem is important enough to disturb my Sunday nap, I plan to give it my full attention."

Travis listened as the widow told her sad story of helping her husband as he built a restaurant in one half the building while his partner built the saloon in the other half. "He sent all the way to New Orleans for the best wine, but when he died, the partner claimed all the liquor belonged to the saloon."

Dottie Davis looked quite beautiful, Travis thought, as she wiped her tears on the judge's handkerchief. "I have no way of proving it, Judge, but anyone who knows wine would know that the bottles packed in straw in the cellar are not meant to be served in a saloon."

Travis wasn't surprised when the judge ordered the women released and asked that they appear in his office Monday to solve the problem. He patted the widow's hand and told her that he felt sure this had all been a misunderstanding and her husband's former partner would see it that way once in the judge's office.

They drank coffee and visited until Dillon returned. Travis watched Rainey, who had very little to say. In fact most of the time she stared out the window as if wishing she were a million miles away.

When Dillon signed their release papers, the judge offered Dottie a ride home in his carriage.

Travis reminded Rainey of their dinner as they stepped outside in the cool afternoon air.

She said her goodbye to the widow and declined the judge's offer for a ride home. The older couple drove off.

Travis shifted Duck to his other shoulder so he could use his cane while they walked back to the same cafe he felt like he'd eaten half his meals at while in Austin. Most of the tables were empty, too late for lunch, too early for dinner, he thought. Duck stretched out on the bench by the window and slept while Rainey and he ordered and ate.

They'd ordered coffee and dessert when the boy woke and crawled up into Travis's lap. As always, he hugged Duck tightly, letting him know he was safe.

"You do that so well," Rainey commented.

"What?"

"Hug him."

Travis shrugged. "When our folks died my sister was a baby. Seems like for the first five years of her life she wanted to go everywhere with us. Martha used to complain that Sage would never learn to walk because one of us was always carrying her. I guess I got used to a little one on my shoulder."

Rainey smiled. "What I meant was that you give him a real, honest hug. I see it in the way he relaxes. You make him feel secure. It's the kind of hug every child needs now and then."

"The kind you miss now you're here without your parents?" He saw an opportunity to learn more about her. He doubted the story Mrs. Vivian had told him, about Rainey's parents being dead, was true.

"No," she answered. "I never had that kind of hug, so it wouldn't matter if my parents were here or not. In truth, I never remember either of them ever touching me except to discipline me." Her smile was somehow sad. "I guess they weren't the hugging kind."

He watched her. She hadn't told him where her parents were, or how long she'd been separated from them, or even why, but Rainey had just told him a great deal about herself.

They walked home with him telling her about the capital and where Sage and he stayed. He kept hoping she'd share something about herself, but she remind quiet.

"I've heard of the Bailey residence. Someone said that she doesn't see her guests as boarders, but as family. Family that pay, of course."

Travis laughed. "That's about right. The other day I was working late, and she tapped on my door and offered me milk and cookies."

When she didn't comment, he added, "When I'm in Austin, I sometimes bunk in the cell you stayed in for the night, but with Sage on her first trip, I wanted it to be something special."

"She's never been to Austin?"

He shook his head. "Teagen and Tobin would keep her on the ranch forever if they could. While she was going to school at Mrs. Dickerson's, she seemed happy, but the brothers say she's been restless since last year, when she graduated from all eleven grades. A woman with that much education can't be kept on the property for long. Lucky I had to be in Austin or she might have come on her own."

"One of you wouldn't have stopped her?"

He shook his head. "We'd have tried to talk her out of it, but she's a woman with her own mind."

Rainey nodded slowly and they walked in silence for a while. Finally she asked casually, "Why did you come to Austin? And don't say to find me. I know that can't be the truth."

He wanted to say that finding her had been the exact reason, but he figured that would probably frighten her, so he said the reason he'd told everyone. "I came to take a test I've wanted to take for several years. Judge Gates has been giving me law books to read. I've packed them in my bags for hundreds of miles, and finally a few of the facts have begun to sink in. I think I'd like to try my hand at being a lawyer."

"And give up being a Ranger?"

"I don't think I've thought that far ahead. Passing the bar seems like enough of a dream right now. But I see folks robbed on paper now and then as sure as if someone held a gun to their back. It's frustrating when the law can't help them. Judge Gates and I have been friends for years. He says the courts could use a fighter like me." He lifted his cane and frowned. "Maybe he's right."

They strolled in silence for a while, each lost in their own thoughts. Duck reached out for dried leaves as they passed a tree growing near the walk. He laughed when they fell on Travis's head.

Rainey laughed as Travis complained and pulled dead leaves from his hair.

Halfway to her boardinghouse, Rainey tucked her hand beneath his elbow. He wasn't sure she wanted to be close, or if she was simply making sure he didn't fall.

At the front steps she thanked him and said goodbye as if they were no more than polite strangers.

He walked home in a dark mood. Maybe that was all they were, he thought. Polite strangers. He's spent so much time away from people or hunting down outlaws that, if he ever thought he knew anything about women, he'd forgotten where the lines should be drawn.

They'd been friends enough to eat together today, and they'd certainly been friendly last night, but she didn't seem to want more. He on the other hand would like to be much better friends, and daylight or dark didn't matter to him.

The day had worn on his leg. By the time he made it back to the Bailey home, pain throbbed with every heartbeat. Sage lifted Duck from his arm and put the boy to sleep. She didn't ask why they'd been out so late; she was far more interested in telling him about all the important and interesting people she'd met at the church lunch.

Travis sat by the fire and stretched his leg out. By the time Sage wound down and went to bed, his muscles had eased enough for him to bend his leg without feeling a shooting pain.

He knew he should look over notes before the questioning tomorrow, but he watched the fire and thought of Rainey. They'd talked easily at dinner. She'd admitted she made the pies and told him how she found a way to support herself. She talked of a woman named Pearl and her husband Owen, but she never mentioned her past. When he'd asked if her mother taught her to cook, she'd simply said, "No." He leaned back in his chair and decided that if they were destined to be just friends, so be it. It appeared neither of them wanted what most people seem to want and need. Maybe marriage and a family weren't for the likes of them.

When he moved to his desk by the window, he thought of her laugh and smiled. He liked the way she laughed. In truth he liked everything about her. He even liked the way her fingers held tightly to his arm as they walked.

Closing his eyes, he realized the need for her was strong. A hunger just to be near her ached inside him, and somewhere, some time, he knew it would have to be satisfied. He also knew, deep inside on a level where there are no words, that she felt the same. And somehow that feeling, that need, had nothing to do with being just friends.