Knight on the Texas Plains

by Linda Broday

  He raced to take cover beside the wagon. “Are you all right, Rose?”

  “I’m not hit. Who’s shooting at us?”

  “My guess is the two cowards I saw running.” Maybe they were friends of hers. The finality of missing his appointment at Dead Horse Creek sank into the pit of his stomach. Heavy disappointment swept over him. How long would it be before he got another chance at Ned Sweeney?

  Luke dropped to the ground and scanned the small ravine to his right. He waited. Thoughts and speculation rambled around inside his head like a bunch of marbles clanking together. All the while, hot anger grew. He didn’t know what the hell was going on, but of one thing he was certain: when he caught the ones who’d tied Rose and left her to die, he’d get some answers or else fill them so full of lead their kith and kin wouldn’t recognize them.

  A slight movement drew his gaze. The sun’s rays glinted on gunmetal. When orange flame burst from the end, Luke fired two rounds toward the spot.

  As he pondered his next move, something touched his leg. He jerked around. Damn! The fool woman had climbed out of the wagon and was crawling up beside him. “Stay down,” he ordered.

  “What do they want?” she whispered. “We don’t have anything.”

  Nothing except shiny new rifles and whiskey.

  “We’re about to find out.” When a head poked above the rim of the ravine, Luke squeezed the trigger again.

  “Damn you!” a man hollered. “You shot my ear off.”

  “There’s more where that came from,” Luke grated out. “What do you want?”

  “You got something of ours.”

  “Yeah, what’s that?” Luke kept his gaze on the ravine.

  “My woman and our stuff in the wagon. Hand ’em over and we’ll let you live.”

  Rose sucked in her breath and clutched Luke’s shirtsleeve with trembling fingers.

  “You mean the woman you left tied and gagged while you ran?” he asked.

  “She’s simpleminded. Didn’t want her wandering off. You scared me, so I ran. You got a lot of nerve stealing her.”

  “I am not simpleminded,” Rose whispered furiously.

  “What’s her name?” Maybe Luke could get her some peace of mind before he concluded his business with them.

  “Well, it’s…it’s… Hell, what difference does it make?”

  “That’s what I thought.” The anger that had simmered upon finding Rose erupted in a boiling fury. “Here’s what I’ll do, boys. You can have the rifles and liquor but the woman stays. Best offer you’ll get.”

  “There’s two of us and only one of you.”

  “You might not be too smart, compadre, but at least you can count. Before you get in over your head, you might want to know who’s holding this Colt on you. I killed my first man at fourteen and I haven’t stopped. Two more won’t make any difference.”

  When the piece of cow dung answered back, he seemed to have lost his confidence. “Who might you be?”

  “Luke Weston. Show yourselves and I’ll face you both. Might even give you a fighting chance.” His voice came out as hard as steel, and as unforgiving as the wild Texas land.

  A deafening silence followed. Then after a few seconds, one spoke up. “You said we could have our crates?”

  “Dillydally and you’ll get a big goose egg. I’m tired of dickering.”

  “No, no! We’ll take them off your hands. You ain’t gonna shoot us when we come to collect the crates, will you?”

  “Luke,” Rose whispered. “Don’t trust these sidewinders.”

  Like he was about to. He swung his attention to the pair who deserved to die. “Toss your weapons. I said I wouldn’t shoot you, but don’t tempt me.”

  “We’re coming.” Guns flew out, landing on the hard ground.

  Two men—one tall, wearing a black leather vest, and a shorter one in a wide-brimmed sombrero—climbed from the ravine. Vest Man had blood oozing down one side of his face from his missing ear. The two slowly moved toward the wagon, leading two horses and a mule.

  Gripping his Colt, Luke stepped forward, his eyes catching every twitch they made. The short, stocky fellow in the sombrero nervously scampered into the wagon and started handing down the crates to his partner on the ground.

  Luke didn’t notice Rose behind him until she touched the back of his long duster. He almost jumped out of his skin. “I told you to stay put.”

  “I had to get a good look at these lowdown skunks,” she grated out. “I am not simpleminded.”

  He let out an exasperated breath. The lady was going to be the death of him yet.

  When the pair had unloaded the last one, Luke spoke. “I ought to shoot you where you stand for tying up the woman.”

  The short weasel didn’t have one drop of Mexican blood. He wouldn’t meet Luke’s gaze. “Had to. She saw everything.”

  “Which was what?”

  A strangled cry sprang from Rose’s mouth.

  “She didn’t tell you?” asked Sombrero.

  “Been a little busy and she wasn’t in the best shape when I found her, thanks to you.”

  “We thought she was dead.” The one in the vest told his partner, “I said we shoulda finished her off.”

  “Does it sound like I’m dead, you ugly piece of worm puke?” Rose yelled, scratching and clawing to get past Luke. “I’ll finish you off!”

  Dios mío!

  “Settle down, amiga,” he ordered quietly. “I’m trying to get some answers for you, damn it.”

  Rose’s mutinous glare didn’t ease his worry.

  The rifle-runner brought his bloody face around. “We didn’t do all of that. It was Reno Kidd and if we ain’t back with our loot, he’s gonna come lookin’ for us. He’s the mean one.”

  Yeah, Reno would kill his own mother without batting an eyelash. Luke hated the yellow-haired outlaw. He’d sell his soul for two bits. Rose was lucky he had only bashed her head in.

  “I oughta come over there and kick you both half to death!” Rose yelled. “Just for letting him do this to me!”

  “Hush, Rose,” Luke grated. Tamping down his irritation, he brought his focus back to the men. “Where is Reno anyway?”

  “He rode on ahead to make a deal, leaving orders to meet him this afternoon.”

  “How does the woman fit into all this?”

  “Damn it!” yelled Sombrero. “Reno took her for insurance in case we were trailed.” The man’s wide hat shielded his eyes, but Luke felt their hard glare.

  “So, Reno just saw her and took her.”

  “That’s what I just said. Look, can we just have what we came for?”

  “Where did you cross paths with the woman?” When neither answered, Luke’s bullet kicked up the dirt at Sombrero’s feet. “Where?”

  “Doan’s Crossing.” Vest shifted uneasily. “That’s all we know. Gotta long way to travel before night.”

  “You’ll leave when I say. Which one of you hit her?”

  “Yeah,” Rose hollered around Luke. “I’m going to kill whoever cracked my skull.”

  “Reno Kidd.” Vest shifted again, crossing his arms. “I thought he plumb killed her. She was throwing a walleyed fit, screaming at the top of her lungs, and hitting. She’s a wildcat. He had to shut her up somehow. Every time she came to, Reno hit her again. Her father ain’t gonna be happy about that either.”

  “I’ll show you what a wildcat is!” Rose tried again to get loose.

  Luke’s thoughts whirled. The gang had evidently waylaid Rose and stolen the contraband. Why had she been traveling with it? “How did she get all this blood on her?”

  “The dead man. I guess—he might’ve been her husband. Leastways, she was with him. The other fellow could be dead too. Or shot up.”

  “You’re a real prince.”

  The outlaw wasted no time in denying murder. “Hey, weren’t us, mister. We just rob.”

  If they hadn’t killed the man in Doan’s Crossing, then Rose very likely had. But Luke wouldn’t take o
dds on the shifty man speaking the truth.

  The tall, vest-clad man wiped at the blood running down his neck. “Weston, we gotta go. We don’t have all day to lollygag.”

  Luke hoped some of this was jogging Rose’s memory. He breathed deep to calm his anger. “One more thing: What’s her father’s name?”

  “Look, we’ve told you all we know,” Sombrero snapped. “Reno has the answers. We don’t know squat. He only said her father is a mean hombre, someone you don’t want to mess with.”

  “You’re a lying sack of shit!” Cussing a blue streak, Rose again tried to fight her way around Luke. He managed to grab her around the waist, lifting her off the ground before she made her break. One thing for certain, she wasn’t a preacher’s daughter. He never expected to hear any decent woman giving profanity such free rein.

  “I’m not one to mess with either, compadres,” Luke snapped. “Load the contraband onto your mule and get gone. But if I ever see either of you again, I’ll fill you full of lead and leave you to rot under the sun.”

  “You don’t have to worry none,” promised Vest.

  “Give Reno a message. Tell him Luke Weston is coming for him. Time and place is my choosing.” Luke wanted a lot more but he doubted they had the answers he was after. These two were nothing but low men on the totem pole. And he needed to get Rose safe before anything else went wrong.

  Without so much as a grunt of acknowledgment, the two strapped the crates onto the mule. Only the rifles and half the whiskey would fit. so they took the bottles from the extra crate and stuffed their saddlebags full. In their haste, several bottles dropped onto the hard ground and shattered, soaking the thirsty earth. They snatched up their pistols, jumped on their horses, and galloped toward a ridge.

  Rose broke free and raced toward them. “Who am I? Damn it, tell me! Who am I?”

  The anguish in her chilling cries echoed in Luke’s head as he chased after her.

  With heart-rending sobs, Rose collapsed into a heap, her forehead touching the ground. Luke gently lifted her up, clutching her against him. He rubbed his hand up and down her back.

  “Who am I?” she whispered brokenly.

  Three

  Rose sagged against Luke, safe inside the circle of his strong arms. Even if no one ever claimed her, she desperately needed to know who she was. Where she belonged. Anything was better than this emptiness inside her head that maybe had once held memories of a childhood, a family, a father.

  Luke lifted her in one smooth motion and eased her down on the bed of the wagon. His pale-green eyes held kindness as he wiped her eyes. The man who’d spoken with a hard edge had a tender touch.

  Though she didn’t know her own name, where she came from or who her family was, she didn’t want to die. From what those men had said and the throbbing pain in her skull, she’d come close.

  “Did any of what we learned from those two rifle peddlers jog your memory?” Luke prodded.

  “No. I wish they could’ve told me who my father is.” Rose met his eyes, wondering how an outlaw and killer could be so kind. “How could he be working with such evil men? How could any kind of a father have planned whatever they’re involved in? Maybe including my abduction?” Her stomach rolled and she thought she might retch again.

  “From what I got, grabbing you seemed to be something Reno Kidd took upon himself.”

  Warmth spread through her. He was only trying to spare her feelings, but she still appreciated that. Most men probably wouldn’t give her state of mind a thought.

  Rose gave him a wry smile. “At least I know I’m not an orphan.” But could a father who appeared to be a scoundrel and an outlaw be a step up?

  “That’s the spirit.” Luke winked. “Hang with me and I’ll get your answers, but right now it’s too dangerous to stay here. Do you want to lie in back or ride up with me?”

  “I’ll ride on the seat.” Where she could see trouble coming.

  With a last look at the only place on earth she knew, Rose let him help her into the wagon box. After tying his horse to the back, he removed his black duster and stowed it under the seat then took his place next to her. Propping his foot on the wood in front in a careless pose, he set the horses in motion.

  She cast a sidelong glance at this man who’d saved her. He had a rugged profile that seemed to have been carved over time by the wind, sun, and weather, with raven-black hair and green eyes that could harden to silver. He’d killed his first man so young. He should scare her, but she felt just the opposite. Luke could’ve as easily given her over to the two jackasses back there. Instead, he seemed willing to risk his life for a stranger, and that was something she’d never expected.

  Though she couldn’t say with certainty, she imagined few people had ever stuck up for her before. Her throat tightened. “Luke, do you think I’ll ever know my name or where I belong?” She bit her quivering lip to still it.

  “We have to have hope. If we don’t have that, we have nothing.”

  His reply hinted at something bad he was trying to fix.

  They stopped at a narrow spring and refilled the canteen. Luke plucked some leaves from a plant growing next to the water and handed them to her. “Chew on these mint leaves to get the bad taste out of your mouth. Plus, it’ll ease your stomach.”

  His thoughtfulness caught her by surprise. Even when it didn’t look like it, he was thinking of her. She chewed on the leaves, enjoying the fresh feel they gave her mouth, and watched him care for the horses. This man who could probably kill with ease had a soft spot in his heart. Soon they got on the road again, the sway of the wagon soothing as they rocked along. Luke put some mint leaves into his mouth and chewed.

  “Were you going anywhere important when you found me?” she asked.

  He was silent a moment before finally saying, “It’ll keep.”

  Something in his quiet tone told her that she’d cost him a great deal, but at least he didn’t seem to be holding it against her.

  “I don’t know who you are, Rose, and I’m no expert, but I can say one thing. You didn’t learn to cuss like that in church.” Luke stared straight ahead with a somber face. A slow grin formed and she was struck by his handsome features.

  Suddenly, the day seemed a little brighter. Rose pushed back her hair. “The words just came out so easy without me even thinking.” She made a face. “I must have a terrible temper.”

  “I’d say so. You scared five years off those two lowlifes.”

  “What kind of person do you suppose I am? If you could take a stab?”

  Luke swiveled to face her. His pale-green eyes seemed to stare deep into her soul. “With your temperament and rough language, you could be a muleskinner. Only I’ve never seen one as pretty as you. Or maybe you’re a lumberjack. Except you’re a long way from any trees.” He paused, his grin fading. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t make light of your predicament.”

  “It’s okay, Luke. Getting all down in the mouth only makes me feel worse. I appreciate your efforts to make me laugh.”

  “It takes a strong woman to face your situation.”

  Rose shrugged. “I don’t have much choice. With a father who’s apparently a crook and an outlaw, I just wonder what else he taught me.” She hated to think what she had become. She probably wouldn’t like that person very much.

  “Can you try to curb the profanity just a bit? I can’t get used to such words coming from someone who looks like an angel.”

  His quiet compliment made her heart skip a beat. For him, and those eyes that could melt the layers of ice inside, she’d do most anything.

  She sat up straighter. “Where are we going?”

  “Normally I’d ask where you want to go, but since you haven’t a clue, I’m heading toward the Lone Star Ranch.”

  “Why go there?”

  “Nearest doctor. I know the owner. Good man. Stoker Legend will take you in.”

  Rose raised her chin a trifle. “I don’t need a sawbones.”

  That ranch would on
ly mean more people she didn’t know. What would happen to her if she couldn’t ever find a familiar place again? Find someone at least whom she recognized? Her chin quivered. Even if it was a bad person, it would be better than no one at all.

  Luke took her hand and his voice was gentle. “The only way to find answers to your questions is to go to someone who knows. A doctor can tell you about your condition. And I’ll get on the trail of finding out the truth of what happened at Doan’s Crossing. I’ll help put you back together.”

  “Why would you do that for someone you’ve never seen?”

  “Because it’s the right thing to do. I’d want someone to do that for me.” He turned her hand over and studied her palm.

  For a man who killed people, he had a gentle touch. Heat spread through her as though she stood too close to a smithy’s forge. “What are you looking at?”

  Eyes the color of spring pasture land lifted and the intensity she saw in his gaze made her fidget. “I once knew an old woman in New Orleans who seemed to tell a good many things by the lines of a palm.”

  “Like what?”

  “How long you’ll live, how passionate you are—stuff like that. Of course, I didn’t buy into it, but lots do.”

  “Can you tell if I have a husband, a mother, children?” Her voice broke with longing.

  Luke suddenly tensed, dropped her hand, and stared into the distance with narrowed eyes.

  “What did you see?” she asked.

  “Movement ahead.”

  “No, on my palm.” She knew he’d seen something. “Tell me.”

  “It’s riders,” he insisted. “Move closer and try to hide the damage on your skirt as best you can.”

  He shifted, putting his reloaded Colt within easy reach and striking a lazy pose with his hat tugged low. He was ready to shoot his way out if needed.

  Pulling his duster from under the seat, he told her to drape it around her. She covered her bloody skirt then pressed against his side and slipped her arm through his. She wasn’t going to let them take the only friend she had.

  No matter what she had to do. Nor could she let him kill on this fine day.

  Minutes later, lawmen surrounded the wagon and forced them to stop.