That was it, he decided. That was the moment all rational thought snapped in two and he asked her to marry him. Him! The man who never wanted to marry. Never wanted a family. Never wanted a wife at home worrying about him.
He followed her another block. He knew nothing about her that would even hint that she'd be a good wife. She was a thief. Definitely violent, she'd tried to stab him less than two hours ago. Maybe that should have given him a hint as to how the evening would turn out. No doubt about her being a liar: It had taken him three times to get her to settle on a name, and he wasn't sure she'd given him the right one yet.
So why had he asked her the one question he thought he'd never ask?
Travis swore, knowing the answer. This fairy woman brought the only sunshine to his colorless life. When he was with her, or even thinking about her, he felt more alive than he ever had. She felt so right in his arms, like a piece of his heart had always been missing and, somehow, she completed him. And touching her… he didn't even want to think about the way touching her made him feel.
Suddenly she stopped and looked back to see if he followed, and to his surprise she appeared relieved to see him. He walked to within stabbing distance of her, but kept his guard up knowing she probably had her little fingers curled around her knife.
"I hate to ask for a crazy man's help," she said, moving her fists to her hips. "But I have to get to the back of the boardinghouse, and I don't think I'm brave enough to walk into that blackness alone. Would you consider accompanying me, Mr. McMurray?"
"Why don't you just knock on the front door?"
"Mrs. Vivian will not open it before seven a.m. It's one of her house rules. She locks the house up and takes the only key to her room."
He walked closer, relieved she didn't bring up the proposal. Maybe, if he were lucky, she'd just forget he said anything. After all, he'd only whispered it. "I'll see you safely home, be it the front or the back door."
She took his arm with one hand and lifted the hem of her cape with the other. They moved into the alley. Travis's eyes adjusted enough so that he led her around trash and mud holes. She was right to be worried: Behind the Askew House lay the dark side of Austin. As a Ranger he'd been called many times into the saloons to break up fights and drag away bodies. Rainey probably didn't know it, but she lived only a few feet away from a boiling pot of trouble.
When they reached the back steps of the Askew House, she tugged him to the side of the building.
"I can go in through the laundry window," she whispered. "Mrs. Vivian's slave will open it for me."
He followed her the few feet to a small window without asking how she knew about the special entrance.
She tapped twice, and within seconds the window slid open. A young black woman poked her head out and smiled. "Welcome home, Miss Rainey. Me and the widow were about to give up on you. Miss Dottie says she feels like a little wine tonight and would like you to keep her company."
Rainey pointed with her head toward Travis. The woman closed her mouth and nodded once.
If Travis didn't know better-and he didn't-he'd think they were up to something they wanted kept a secret.
Leaning forward, Rainey tried to lift herself into the window. Frustrated, she turned back to Travis. "My friend usually leaves a stepstool here to help me make it in," she whispered. "It appears I'm too short to climb in without it."
"Maybe the window's too tall." He thought of asking why she didn't use the back door, but at this point Rainey's ways made as much sense as everything else in his life. "Will you accept my help?"
"Yes, please."
Slowly, so he wouldn't frighten her, he slipped one arm around her shoulders and slid the other beneath her knees. He lifted her into the window feet first, careful not to bump her head on the frame.
Once inside, she leaned out a few inches. "Thank you," she said and raised her hands to close the window.
"Rainey-" He moved closer, placing his hand on the open frame. "Would you step out with me some other night?" He thought of adding what he wouldn't do the next time, but the list was too long to bother with. "I plan to be in town several more days. I'd like it if we could have dinner again."
She straightened, all prim and proper now. "I don't think so, Mr. McMurray, but thank you for asking." The candlelight from the room beyond the laundry room silhouetted her in pale yellow, making her look like an angel.
He touched his finger to his hat in a salute. "Mind if I ask again?"
"Not at all, Mr. McMurray, if you don't mind if I'm unable to go."
She closed the window before he could think of anything else to say. Which was good, he decided, because with his luck he'd only hurt his chances of ever even getting her to speak to him again.
Maybe it wasn't her. Maybe she had just been there in the point in time when he realized that a woman in his life might not be the worst thing in the world. After spending months with nothing to do, his mind must have had too much time to think.
He walked out of the alley and circled round to the street lined with saloons. Maybe he should take the time to talk to a few other females and work the memory of Rainey out of his thoughts. What he needed was less thinking and more action.
An hour later.he'd tried three saloons and found nothing but rotten beer and cheap women. Most of the females he saw were too big. One redhead was almost as tall as him and outweighed him by twice. A few were small, but bony, not rounded like Rainey. He didn't have to touch them to know that they wouldn't feel right in his arms. One woman only had the bottom set of her teeth and another smelled worse than the alley. All were willing to step close, but Travis couldn't bring himself to kiss any of them. One beauty in a smoky back room stuck her tongue out and circled her mouth as if she thought that might encourage Travis to join her.
He walked into the fourth saloon and relaxed when he recognized three of the Rangers he'd traveled with over the years. They were holding cards, but he guessed they were talking more than playing.
One was several years older than Travis and well seasoned. Everyone called him Dillon, and he pretty much ran the Austin headquarters. Travis had no idea if Dillon was his first or last name. Dillon had ridden out with Stephen F. Austin as a scout when the first settlers came to claim land grants passed out by Mexico. He knew the land and he knew his job.
The second, Roy Dumont, was younger, about the same age as Travis. He liked living by the gun, and Travis guessed that if he hadn't been a Ranger, he would have been an outlaw. He had a wife and kids on both sides of the border, so he traveled back and forth, being a Ranger unless the money was better for him to cross the Rio Grande and become an informant.
The third man, Michael Saddler, was young, still a pup. He wore the star for the excitement and what he thought was the glory. His folks had been killed a few years back in a raid near Parker's Fort, but unlike some, Mike bore no hatred for Indians.
Saddler stood when he saw Travis at the bar. "Look, men, we're seeing a walking ghost and he's all dressed up like a gentleman."
Travis forced himself not to lean on his cane as he moved toward them.
Out of respect all three stood and greeted him. He felt as if he'd stepped on solid ground for the first time since he'd been shot. He knew these men, understood them, thought like them.
When he pulled up a chair, Mike dealt him a hand, but no one paid much attention to their cards.
They asked about the raid on the Germans' small wagon train. They wanted details, unlike his family who only wanted to know that he was all right. In the next hour he relived everything that he could remember knowing that they'd relay his story exactly to others.
Dillon wanted descriptions of the outlaws and mentioned a few names that might fit those killed. When Travis finished his report, Dillon thanked him for eliminating one of the raiding parties that had bothered travelers for almost a year.