Texas Rain

be more printing than script.

Dear R.,

I cannot address you as sir, for, unless I had a very vivid dream, you are not a male and I do not know your name. It is not, I'm certain, any more Sam than it was Molly at the dance. So I can only trust that your name, whatever it may be, starts with an R.

Rainey laughed. For a man who didn't talk much in person, he sure chattered across a page.

I am recovering as well as can be expected, though the confines of this study may very likely drive me mad before I heal enough to ride. I hope this letter finds you well and safe. As far as I can see, however, in your current occupation of 'horse borrower,' you may not rate safety as a factor in your life.

Are you aware you can be hanged for taking a horse?

Rainey frowned. The man as much as called her a thief. She read on.

I thank you for letting me know what happened to the animal. I'm glad to know neither he, nor you, are starving. I spent several hours looking at law books determining your crime, but finally saw it as a moot point since I have no intention of filing charges. In fact, I fear my brain may have suffered along with my leg for I often think of you as more a figment of a dream than real.

We did dance? he wrote, then marked out the line and signed his name.

Rainey fought back tears. She could almost hear him asking the last question and then growing angry with himself for being so foolish. She pulled out a piece of paper and pen. We danced, she began and then could think of nothing else to say without saying too much.

How could she feel so close to someone she'd only met a few times? She had read once that there are people in everyone's life that they spend a few hours actually with and the rest of their days remembering. Would Travis be that person to her? Would she spend the years wondering where he was, what he was doing, how he was aging?

After a while she blew out the candle and curled into bed with Travis's letter tucked under her pillow. As she did every night, Rainey opened the window a little to listen to the voices below. Somehow, the stranger's whispers were company.

After a few minutes Whiny and Snort, the two barmaids from across the alley, came out to smoke.

The one Rainey called Whiny complained about how she was turning black-and-blue from being patted on the bottom.

'It's part of the job,' Snort said. 'I heard a fellow call it a thorn in the job once. Ever' job has a few.' Snort snorted a laugh. 'You wouldn't do so much hurting if you'd eat enough to keep some fat on that backside. Men like a woman to waddle and wiggle just a little; you bounce like a loose fiddle string.'

Whiny sighed. 'I've tried eating, but that stuff Haskell sells isn't worth chewing. I got to get me a better way to make money so I can eat something that didn't die of old age.'

'Oh, yeah, what do you want to do? Scrub floors over at the hotel? You'd be cleaning up mud and tobacco spit all day. Or maybe you wanta marry some farmer from around here who'll keep you working in the fields all summer so you can starve and freeze all winter while you're cleaning up his mud and tobacco spit.'

'I almost married me a real man once. He said we was gonna be rich and I would never have to do nothing but keep him happy.'

Snort laughed. 'Well, what ever happened to that prince?'

'He got caught and sent to prison, but he swears when he gets out, he'll come for me.'

'When will that be?'

Whiny whimpered, 'Ninety-nine to life.'

Snort made a sound, then swore about life being unfair.

'If I was a man,' she whined, 'I'd be a bank robber. I'd get me a gun and be rich in no time.'

'You'd be dead in no time,' Snort corrected. 'The problem with a life lived by the gun is that folks tend to shoot at you from time to time. You think a pat on the bottom hurts, just wait until you get lead in your backside.'

'Well, you think of something, then.' As always, Whiny's voice deteriorated into a sob. 'I don't know how much longer I can do this. The thorns are getting to me. If I'm going to do this the rest of my life, I'm going to drink all I can so maybe death will come a little faster, or at least it'll seem faster.'

Rainey rose to her elbow and watched the two shadows below hug.

'I'll think of something, baby,' Snort promised. 'I swear. My pa said I was the smart one in his litter. I'll come up with the answer.'

Rainey heard the back door open and close. She rolled away from the window and touched the letter.

She would never see Travis McMurray again, but it wouldn't hurt to write him one more letter. Maybe she'd tell him about some of the things she heard. She'd call her stories Tales from the Alley.

The only thing she missed about her home were the books. Not her mother, never her father, not even her room. Only the books. If she couldn't afford to buy anything to read, maybe she could write some interesting story that would make her Ranger laugh.

Or maybe she'd write the truth about the way she felt about him. After all, he'd never find her. He didn't know her name or her whereabouts.

Smiling, she wished she could see his face when he read her thoughts. Her true thoughts about him.

Rolling over, Rainey lit her candle. Beneath her first words to her Ranger she added, The thing I remember most about our dance was the warmth of your hand on my back.

Rainey smiled, wondering if she'd have the nerve to mail this letter. She tucked it under her pillow suddenly thinking of all the things she wished she could say to Travis McMurray.

After pulling the window closed, she snuggled beneath the covers. As always, she rolled into a ball, hugging her legs tightly, and wished for the dawn.

CHAPTER 14

Travis knew it was too soon for the fairy woman to answer him back, but he still stood on the porch and waited for Teagen to return from the trading post. Because today was the first of the month, his brother had driven the wagon in for supplies. The hours since Teagen left passed slowly for Travis, yet he didn't go inside. He could feel himself growing stronger every day now. His leg no longer ached when he stood for more than a few minutes, and he trusted himself to walk around the house without the cane.

At breakfast Teagen had suggested that Travis ride along with him, and in truth, Travis felt he might have been able to. Relying on his cane, he walked to the barn and back several times a day and even managed the wagon for short periods when needed. But Travis wasn't sure he felt ready to let anyone but family see him limp. His left leg was still stiff and sometimes wouldn't hold his weight. The fear that he might fall walking into Elmo's place kept him home.

He rubbed the muscle of his left thigh, wondering if the ache he felt all the way to the bone would ever go away.

And if it didn't, was he willing to stay here for the rest of his life? At some point he might have to decide whether to face the world with a limp or hide forever.

'Looking for another letter?' Sage asked as she wrapped a shawl around her shoulders and stepped onto the porch beside him. 'You never did say who that letter was from.'

She'd hinted before, but never asked so directly. He knew he'd have to break down and lie. 'Ranger, business,' he said, then added, 'about a horse thief who is north of Austin.'

Travis smiled. He hadn't lied and Sage looked like she'd lost interest. Over the weeks he'd talked enough about the law to bore everyone in the house. They'd even suggested he go down to Austin and stand before a judge for