This Loving Land - Dorothy Garlock [53]
“Might be, but I sure do have me a time.” He laughed and ran his hand through his hair, and to Summer, looking out the doorway, the two by the boiling pot were having a pleasant conversation.
"One of my reasons for making this long, hot, dusty ride was to see you. I’ve been a thinking about you since that morning. You thought you had a little something going with Jesse.” He laughed, this time nastily. “You’ll not get him away from my mama. He might crawl on you if it comes handy, but I’m thinkin’ he’s already got a place to go.” His voice lowered menacingly. “I don’t want you here with Summer! If you as much as breathe a word to her about me, you’ll not leave this place alive.”
A tight hand seemed to be squeezing the breath out of her body. Through a daze, she heard him talking again, his voice taut with restrained anger.
“It won’t be like the last time. There won’t be no Jesse a chargin’ to the rescue.”
“I ain’t said nothin’ to Summer about you or what you . . . did!”
“Goddammit! Do you think I’d believe a slut? Go! I don’t aim to be looking at you every time I come here to see Summer.” His face had grown dark with anger, and she thought his eyes almost shot sparks of blue flame. Suddenly, he laughed in a boastful way that made her despise him all the more. “From that hill yonder, a man with a good rifle could pick off a chicken in this yard.” He cocked his head to one side. “That kid of yours is quite a bit bigger than a chicken.”
“I’ll tell Mr. McLean. . . .” she blurted out in desperation.
He lifted his shoulders in resignation, glancing over his shoulder toward the house; then his eyes played over her, bringing a helpless, humiliating flush upward to the roots of her hair.
“I’d get you. If I didn’t get your kid first, so you’d know what to expect. I got friends up in the hills and they owe me plenty.” His lips curled in a sneer. “You didn’t think I was dumb enough to ride in here alone?”
“Sadie!” The call came from Summer. “Can that batch of wash wait till after the nooning?”
Sadie tore her eyes away from the man’s leering face and thought with lucid remoteness that she could call out to Summer, tell her to get the gun from the top shelf and kill this rattlesnake. Her eyes flicked back to him. His face was tense, waiting. She made a helpless gesture and his face relaxed.
“Wait right here.” His voice was no more than a purring whisper. “I’ll water my horse and we’ll go in together.” He led his horse past her to the watering trough.
“I’ll be there in no time a’tall, Summer.” Sadie called on all her inner resources to keep the fear that was eating her alive out of her voice. She had no chance against a man like Travis McLean. He was handsome, rich, spoke too fast. Summer would never believe the conversation that had just taken place. Never believe it fast enough to act.
Sadie walked into the kitchen as if in a nightmare, numbly thinking that this couldn’t be real. This place had been a safe haven for her and Mary. She had been happier than she could ever remember. Now this piss-ant coming through the door behind her was making it a hell. The thoughts of what he threatened to do to Mary were too awful to think about. Jesse Thurston flashed through her mind. Oh, but he was a world away, and she and Mary were here with Travis McLean.
Mary was sitting on the bunk playing with some paper dolls that John Austin had cut out for her. Sadie, weeping inside, picked her up, holding her tightly. Summer turned from the stove with a pan of cornbread.
“I put her box on the chair, Sadie. She can sit here beside John Austin.”
“Your daughter is almost as pretty as you are, Mrs. Bratcher.” Travis stood observing the two of them, a pleasant smile on his face. “Same green eyes, same beautiful red hair. It’s been a long while since I held such a pretty girl on my lap.