Whispers of Moonlight (5 page)

"How old are you, Travis?"

"Twenty-two. How about yourself?"

"I turned 19 in May."

Again the young couple smiled at each other, still keeping a good six feet between them.

Rebecca's plans had been to eat and sleep around the clock, but when the meal was over and her father suggested that she and Travis take a walk, all fatigue fell away.

"It gets cold here at night, doesn't it?"

"Maybe we should go in." Travis was all concern.

"No!" Rebecca said a little too swiftly. Travis smiled. Rebecca smiled in return but looked away when she felt her face heat. Travis studied her profile, his eyes lingering on her lips.

How in the world did a man act when his boss seemed almost to be throwing him together with his daughter? Not that Travis had any complaints, but did Andrew Wagner realize what a temptation Rebecca was? Travis' travels had never been in the fine, big cities. The women he'd met had not been shy and sweet but ready to kiss him before he could learn their names. He'd never met anyone as sweet and genuine as Rebecca.

Rebecca had been protected, that was more than clear, and he'd been anything but sheltered. However, she seemed just as interested in him, and until Travis sensed otherwise, he planned to pursue this young woman with every spare moment allotted to him. Once again he felt torn over Grady's return. He certainly didn't wish the man harm, but it would be difficult to become just one of the hands again.

They had made a large circle of the house, something Travis would have thought his boss would want to do with his daughter, but the older man had been looking pale. Biscuit had come from his small bungalow, a one-room add-on to the cookhouse, and Travis had performed the introductions. Biscuit had been slightly less crotchety than usual for the first few words, but began to complain in less than two minutes.

"Have you seen what old Miller's got in that store? Why I've seen better goods on the back of a wagon, and I swear—"

"We'll see you later.
Biscuit." Travis cut him off easily and took Rebecca's arm. She smiled up at him, and his own eyes twinkled with amusement before he dropped her arm.

At that moment he looked up and saw all five hands lined up outside the bunkhouse. They tried to look casual, but with their shirts buttoned to the neck, cheeks clean-shaven as though it were Saturday night, and every hair in place, Travis was not fooled.

"Evening, ma'am." Lucky, always bold with the ladies, was the first to speak when the couple came abreast of them.

"Miss Rebecca," Travis spoke up. "These are the Double Star hands. This is Lucky Harwell."

Lucky smiled charmingly, his eyes not missing a thing.

"Next to him is Race Paulson, Woody Clark, Jud Silver, and Brad Sugars. Gentlemen, this is Miss Rebecca Wagner, and I know you're going to show nothing but courtesy to the boss' daughter."

"Hello," Rebecca greeted them sweetly, unaware of how seldom they saw a lady.

"We'll be moving on now, boys," Travis said, taking Rebecca's arm again. "I'll see you in the morning."

Not a one of the men, young or old, wouldn't have liked to catch the fair Miss Rebecca's eye, but the gaze she turned to Travis spoke volumes. And in truth, as much as they might have liked to get their hands on her, they knew it would cost them their good-paying jobs. Feelings of jealousy for Travis and his position surged through the group.

"That was lovely, Travis. Thank you."

They were back at the house, standing in the entryway. Travis' hat was in his hand, and Rebecca's eyes were on his face.

"Thank you for accompanying me."

"Will I see you tomorrow?"

"I expect, yes." The temptation to linger was strong, but he forced himself to say, "Good night, Miss Rebecca."

"Couldn't you just call me Rebecca?"

The question took the air right out of his lungs. His voice was soft when he said, "I don't know if your father would approve."

Rebecca nodded and oddly enough, Travis was relieved. He hated the thought that all this sweetness hid a rebellious spirit.

"Good night, Travis," she said, turning away.

Travis only smiled at her and let himself back out the door. As temporary foreman he still bunked with the men. He had no intention of answering a
single question, so he saddled his horse, Diamond, and took a long ride, hoping beyond hope that when he returned they would all be asleep.

"Lavena," Rebecca called to the housekeeper, who had befriended her.

"In the kitchen." The older woman's voice floated to the bottom of the stairs.

Rebecca walked that way, stepped inside, and just stood. Lavena's back was to her, but she still heard the movements. She kept on with her work over a bowl of vegetables, a smile playing around her eyes.

The facts were simple—Rebecca Wagner was at loose ends. She'd been at the Double Star for ten days, searched out every nook and cranny of the large house, tried to help Lavena in the kitchen and with the cleaning, and was now restless. It was a few minutes after 4:00, and
Lavena noted that this had become the pattern of the last week. It had taken a day or two to rest from her trip, but now she was raring to go but with little to do. Sunday was the only day she had company other than Lavena's. The housekeeper was thankful that this was Saturday afternoon.

"Has my father ever shown any interest in remarrying?"

Lavena's head spun around as if she'd been stung, all pretense of absorption with her cooking falling away.

"Marrying?" She sounded outraged. "Whatever gave you such a notion?"

Rebecca shrugged, having already learned that Lavena's bark was larger than her bite. "I just wondered. I mean, he's not an old man, and I can't help but think he might be lonely out here."

"He never wrote to you about a woman, did he?" Lavena's voice was sharp.

Rebecca, still so confused about the letters, only shook her head no. Lavena eyed her strangely but refrained from further comment. Rebecca moved from the room. At what point was she going to tell her father how it had really been in Philadelphia? Hannah was a kind, although possessive, woman, and Franklin had never been anything but a gentleman, but Rebecca was convinced that they had both deceived her from the moment her father left. Oh, she'd been happy—very happy. She'd never gone without possessions, time, or attention, but the things she'd been told concerning her father were all lies. And the letters . . .

Rebecca's mind stopped there. Hers had been a happy, secure life until the mail delivery that day. Rebecca's hand went to her pocket. The letter was inside. She knew her father was out with Travis and the hands, so Rebecca moved to his study. She sat at the big wooden desk and read the letter for the dozenth time.

My darling Rebecca,

You have stopped asking when I will come for you. Not recently, but a time ago, and there is no describing the pain I feel. I feel you have given up on me, and I can't say as I blame you. I have never wanted to speak ill of your aunt, but she has not made things easy for us. I want more than anything for you to join
me in Boulder, but it is impossible for me to come for you. Please know that were it in my power, I would be there. I ask myself what I will do if
we never see one another again. I must then push the thought aside because I can't stand the pain.

You still have not answered my questions concerning this young man Marcus. I have asked about him for the last several letters. If you do not reply this time, I will assume that he has hurt you and you do not wish to speak of it. If anything has happened to your heart, I will hold your aunt responsible.

Even as I write this, I laugh. Your aunt holds complete control over our situation, and I can do nothing. But you are 19 now, Reba, and should you ever wish to come on your own, I would see you here. It's a long way, but you're your father's girl. Just ask for the funds, and I will see that you have them—that and anything else you need.

As ever,

Your loving father

The letter was beginning to tear and wrinkle, but Rebecca didn't care. She pressed it to her chest and let her eyes slide shut. She had never heard him talk like this because she had never read
his
letters. He had wanted her. He
hadn't
been too busy making a life for himself and forgotten her.

Voices in the entryway, right outside the study door, brought Rebecca to her feet. She needed to discuss this with her father but knew that Travis would be joining them for dinner. Had it been anyone else, she would have asked him to eat with the hands, but for Travis she could put her feelings aside. Indeed, for Travis she would do anything.

Travis' hand bumped Rebecca's when he passed her a bowl of potatoes, and their eyes met for just an instant. Just the night before, when they had taken their evening walk, Travis had picked up her hand to help her over some rocks and not let go. Rebecca had not objected, but she had been a little breathless. Was
it too soon? Her heart and body told her no, but she had so little experience with men. Her aunt had told her to look at their eyes.

"You can tell a man's thoughts by his eyes" had been her warning, but Rebecca wasn't certain what she was looking for. In Travis' eyes she saw only caring and admiration. Was there something mysterious she should be watching for?

Had Rebecca only known her father's thoughts, she'd have gone to him for advice. Indeed, there was something to be looked for in a man's eyes, and Andrew was already seeing it in Travis*. He didn't object. On the contrary, the whole business was making him feel like himself for the first time in years. Rebecca's presence had been a strong cathartic to his ailing body. No, he didn't object to Travis' courtship of his daughter. However, he hoped that Travis was not in a hurry. Andrew wasn't ready to lose his daughter just yet—not after 11 years of separation.

"You two going to take a walk tonight?" Andrew asked. Travis looked to Rebecca. She nodded, and Travis turned back to his boss.

"Would you care to join us, sir?"

Andrew's heart smiled. Oh no, he had no problem with Travis courting Rebecca, no problem at all.

"I believe I'll retire to the study, but I would like you to come and see me when you return, Travis."

"All right, sir. Are you finished, Rebecca?"

"Yes."

Travis watched her rise and felt his heart constrict. Never had he felt like this. She had been on his mind for days, and he knew it was no passing thing. For the first time in his life, he could envision himself married and happy. For the first time he thought there might be a God who looks down on the subjects of earth to give His blessing. However, his position as foreman was only temporary. What could he possibly offer this woman? He was never a man to worship money, but without it he was at his boss' mercy. Travis realized he could do far worse than Andrew Wagner. It looked as if the older man sanctioned the courting of his daughter, but to what end? Travis was suddenly glad Andrew wanted to speak to him. He had some questions of his own.