Marcos Settlement.
Travis leaned back in his chair to think. He knew no Sam Irish. He hadn't been to Erhard's place at the headwaters of the San Marcos River in over a year. This had to be a mistake. Teagen occasionally got mail from Austin because the land was in his name. Tobin got inquiries about the horses he sold. No one wrote to Travis.
He opened the letter, prepared to be disappointed.
Travis laughed, truly laughed for the first time since he'd been shot.
The fairy was back in his life.
She wrote on, telling him that though he knew Sam wasn't her name, she'd like to correspond as such and to please give his family her warm regards. She told of how worried she was about him and how she'd thought of him often. She also said that she sold the horse out of kindness because if she hadn't, it would have starved. She promised a dollar a week by post until her debt was paid.
The note was signed:
He ran his thumb over the initial, guessing she'd just given the first hint as to her real name. The paper was rough, probably the cheapest sold, but the penmanship was flawless. Whoever this fairy woman was, one fact was certain: She'd been educated.
Travis read the letter a dozen times, then folded it into his shirt pocket, got dressed, left his crutches behind, and, using only his cane, went for a walk. When he returned, he asked Martha to pull the entire set of law books from the top shelf, and he began to search for rulings on theft. If Sam Irish made a habit of borrowing other people's belongings, his fairy might need a friend who knew the law.
Three hours later, when Martha brought him a tray for lunch, he was hard at work at the desk. That evening, at dinner, Travis came to the table shaved and smiling. Everyone waited for an explanation, but he only said that he'd found the law books very interesting and entertained them all with things he'd learned.
When Martha served dessert, he took his to the study, claiming he had more reading to do. Sage and his brothers stared at him, but no one said a word.
By midnight Travis had answered her letter and knew the hardest part would be waiting until someone in the family mentioned going to town so he could ask them to post it for him.
San Marcos was only thirty or so miles from Austin. If Elmo sent the mail with someone traveling south, his letter could reach the capital in three or four days. Then allowing two days for it to get on a stage heading south toward San Antonio, the driver might drop the mail at the halfway point-San Marcos-within another day.
Travis tapped his letter against his hand. In a week his fairy woman could be holding his answer in her hands. Smiling, he reasoned that on a fast horse he could be there in half the time and be holding her. The need to do just that surprised him. He'd only been with her for minutes, yet the memory of her in his arms lingered like smoke through his thoughts.
At dawn the next morning he found himself wide awake. Grabbing his cane, he went for a walk. His thoughts were full of the fairy/woman. Over the weeks he'd sometimes feared he'd dreamed her up, but now he had the letter. He had proof. Now he could think about when he would find her.
Two days later Sage mentioned she needed sewing supplies and, since it was a clear day, thought she'd ride over to Elmo's place.
Travis didn't say a word at the breakfast table, but a half hour later, when Sage walked onto the porch, he handed her the letter.
As he watched his sister ride off, he thought it was a long shot that R. would even get his letter. The mail service was poor on good days and nonexistent in bad weather. The letter would probably sit at Elmo's place a week before someone picked it up. Then it would be days before it got from Austin to San Marcos. From there, it would wait in a general delivery slot with hundreds of letters never claimed. Even if she came in to check, there was a good chance she wouldn't find his letter to her.
By midafternoon he wished he'd never written. What if he frightened her by quoting the law? What if she thought he was angry or worse trying to lure her into a trap? And last… worst… what if she thought him a fool?
If he'd been able to ride, he would have gone after the letter. He'd have stormed into Elmo's store and demanded the thing back. But he couldn't ride. The letter would go out, and maybe, just maybe, if he were lucky, it would not reach her.
After several hours of sitting on the porch thinking about nothing important, he stormed back inside. Only he missed the rise in the doorframe and stumbled into the hallway, tripped over a rug, and fell headfirst. He spent the rest of that day and the next in bed, silently cussing himself and fanning away Sage and Martha every time they wanted to poke at the egg-sized knot on his forehead.
Martha said he probably had brain damage, but Travis knew it was too late.
He'd already mailed the letter.
CHAPTER 13
Rainey was elbow deep in blueberry pies and laughing with Pearl when Owen returned from his deliveries to the south. He grinned and held a letter up so that she could see it, then slipped it into the pocket of her coat hanging by the door. 'You got mail, Miss Rainey, all the way from a place called Whispering Mountain.'
'Thanks, Owen.' She fought the urge to wash up and run to the letter. But in the three weeks since she'd started making pies, the orders had doubled every week. 'I've got a sample of that blackberry pie cooling, if you want to taste it and see if you think it will sell.'
'Oh, it will sell, just like they all do.' Owen smiled. 'You'll fatten me up, but… I know you need someone to judge the product, so I'm afraid I have to sacrifice myself.'
Rainey giggled. She'd learned to love Owen's sense of humor. He might not be the most handsome man in the world, but he was a hard worker and a good husband and father. She'd seen him work all day loading and unloading wagons, then come in and lift Jason off Pearl's lap so she could rest a while.
'You can read the letter.' Pearl laughed. 'I'll cut the pie.'
Rainey shook her head. 'I've waited over two weeks. I can wait a little longer. These pies are promised as soon as they cool.'
Pearl sat little Jason on the floor and cut her husband a piece of the still-warm pie. 'I was just talking to Rainey, dear. She says she's going to be late cleaning up tonight and would be happy to feed the baby and watch him if you've a mind to take your wife out to eat at one of the hotel restaurants.'
Rainey turned back to her pies and grinned. She knew Pearl had been practicing just how to ask Owen to take her out and had managed it with such casualness it surprised Rainey. She glanced over her shoulder to watch this plain couple interact.
He winked and took Pearl's hand in his as she passed him the saucer of pie. 'You mean a real evening out with my favorite girl? I've waited a long time for this.'
Pearl looked younger. 'We could walk along the main street after dinner like we had nothing to do but stroll. We might even walk over to where they're building the governor's mansion and get a few pointers for when we build our house someday.'
Owen nodded as if her suggestion made perfect sense.
Rainey had seen how hard they both worked, all day in the store and then stocking well into the night. On days Owen traveled he often left before dawn, and she'd watched Pearl do laundry on the back porch after the baby was asleep. The baby's rags looked ghostlike blowing in the cold night breeze.
