Texas Blue

by Jodi Thomas

  The young man had kind eyes and a gentle way. He’d make the youngest McMurray woman a fine husband.

  Lewt climbed the stairs to his room and collapsed. His leg still hurt, and hiding the fact through dinner and the card game had cost him energy he didn’t have. He was a man who needed little sleep, but this time he planned to take the night.

  When he rolled over an hour before dawn, the throbbing in his leg finally woke him. He stood slowly, testing his weight on the leg, then tiptoed down the back stairs to the kitchen and stirred up the fire in the stove. A gentle rain tapping against the windows washed away any sound he made. He guessed it would be a while before the others woke. He planned to soak the bloody bandage off in a hot bath.

  He found all he needed in the room they called the mudroom. Towels, a medicine box, a big tub, and lye soap. While the water heated, he lit one lamp in the kitchen and another in the mudroom. Then he put on a pot of coffee that would be ready before he finished his bath.

  When he lowered his aching body into the tub, he couldn’t help but let out a deep sigh. Every muscle had been strained while working with the herd.

  The water felt wonderful, and the slow rain outside settled his nerves. Lewt closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

  CHAPTER 10

  SOMETIME IN THE NIGHT DUNCAN MCMURRAY WOKE to the news that the cavalry wouldn’t be coming to help them. They received orders that if McNelly and his band had attacked the Mexicans on Mexican soil, the U.S. Army was not to render him any assistance.

  Thirty rangers outside their jurisdiction. Thirty rangers against a mounted force of two hundred. The captain’s bluff wouldn’t last much longer, and they didn’t have their horses to outrun bullets this time.

  Duncan counted his bullets and waited. This cloudy November day seemed as good as any to die. He heard firing now and then but kept his head low, waiting. He had no ammo to waste, no food for the past two days and little water.

  Through the blackness, a bullet came out of nowhere and hit him in the leg as if the gods of battle just wanted to kick him while he was down. It sliced through the muscle just below his knee like a freight train on fire. Duncan swore and tied his leg with his dirty bandanna so he wouldn’t lose too much blood, but within an hour blood had pooled in a foot-wide circle by his leg and was soaking into the soil.

  “You all right, Duncan?” Wyatt shouted from fifty feet away.

  Duncan could feel the pain of the wound all the way to his scalp, but he yelled back, “Fine.”

  “Good, I’m moving in some for a better possession. You got enough cover?”

  Duncan glanced at the hollow he’d made beneath the rock. “I’m digging in,” he answered. With trouble calling, he lowered his body into the hole at least far enough to not be seen easily by someone riding past. “I’ll be all right.”

  He felt like he was getting weaker, but calling out for help would pull another out of the fight and they needed every man standing his ground. “If the shooting starts, I may move back some.” He knew he’d need a head start to the Rio if they retreated. With his leg he’d be lucky to walk, much less run to the river. “Once the fighting starts, don’t worry about me. I’ll catch up to you on the other side of the Rio if we have to make a run for it.”

  “Sounds like a good plan.” Wyatt moved away.

  Near dawn Duncan began to run a fever, and blood continued to drip from the soaked bandanna just below his knee. Now and then, if he remained perfectly still, he could almost feel a cool hand touch his brow. If he were home, the girls would take care of him. Emily would fret over him like she did a sick horse. Rose would boss him around, demanding he eat right, and Bethie would sing to him and pat his hand. They’d apologize for all the things they’d done to him and forgive him for all the things he’d done to them.

  He and the girls might always fight and they’d been adopted into the McMurray clan just like he had, but Duncan considered them blood and he knew they felt the same way about him. If they knew he was in trouble they’d probably all three be riding like the wind to his aid. If something did happen to him, he knew without a doubt they’d see that his body made it home.

  Duncan could almost hear them, and he felt a kind of peace knowing that he’d be buried on the side of a hill where for the rest of eternity he could look out over the ranch.

  He slowly slipped into sleep, no longer concerned about the battle beyond the rock. No longer worrying about the fight.

  As the sun touched the western horizon, Captain McNelly demanded that the cattle and the thieves who stole them be handed over to the rangers. He planned to stand his ground. No negotiations.

  McNelly gave the bandits one hour to comply, and as darkness fell, the rangers prepared to fire.

  All except one. As the cold wind howled, Duncan McMurray turned his back to the world and into the crevice beneath the rock and vanished as he drifted between life and death.

  CHAPTER 11

  EM LEFT THE SEWING ROOM WITH BLANKETS FOLDED neatly in the corner and made her way through the sleeping house to the kitchen. In a few minutes it would be dawn and her long day would begin. With the rain, she planned to make a quick journey for mail and supplies, then work in the barn. She doubted Lewton Paterson would want to join her there. It had been interesting having him tag along yesterday, but she didn’t want company today. The man made her nervous. She’d taken risks she shouldn’t have, and it seemed he’d been the one who always paid.

  When she stepped into the large kitchen, she was surprised to find coffee already made. Rose usually woke early to start the bread, but not quite this early. Maybe, if her sister was up, they could have a few minutes to talk before anyone else crowded around. The only thing wrong with Em’s great plan to avoid the potential bridegrooms lay in the fact that she had to miss most of her time with her sisters. They’d developed a habit, these weeks alone, of each listing everything they did each day. Em found it interesting and she knew that when each finished describing her day, none would have traded with the other.

  After pouring herself a cup of coffee, she walked toward the only other light in the house. It glowed from the mudroom.

  When she saw Lewt in the tub, surprise almost made her drop her coffee cup. He hadn’t bothered to draw the drape over the corner. Maybe he hadn’t even noticed it tucked away beside the windows.

  His arms were over the sides, his knees out of the water, and his head propped against a towel at his shoulder. The low lamp offered little light. He was so still he could have been a painting. Even the soapy water seemed to belong more to a canvas than to life.

  Em took a step closer. He looked younger asleep, she thought. The hardness in his jaw that said he’d fight the world alone if he had to was gone. Even though she’d spent the day with him, she knew less about him than about the other two men who’d invaded their quiet life.

  When she’d met with her sisters late last night, they’d both learned far more about Boyd and Davis than she’d learned about Lewt Paterson. He’d said he was from the east but had not named a town. She heard no eastern accent in his voice. Yet looking at him now, it was easy to see that the man spent little time in the sun. Except for his face and hands, his body looked lean and pale. His wet brown hair appeared almost black in the light.

  Em wished, for the hundredth time, that Duncan had sent them more information about the men he’d picked to meet them. He’d said they were all three from good families. If so, Lewt’s family must rarely venture outside.

  Duncan had written that they were all three well off financially. Maybe Lewt came from a family of bankers who never did anything but sit around and count their money. That would explain the blisters and tiny cuts he’d gotten yesterday from a day’s work.

  She could see the line of blisters along his open palm. He was a man not used to working for a living. Part of her thought less of him for it. Part of her admired his willingness to try. He’d obviously stepped into a foreign world yesterday, and he’d done so at a run.
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  Backing slowly into the kitchen, she pulled out a skillet and began making eggs, hoping the noise would wake him up. She wasn’t sure she was brave enough to wake a man in a bathtub. It would probably embarrass them both to death.

  About the time she’d set the table for two and the eggs were ready, he appeared in the doorway between the mudroom and the kitchen. His hair was combed back and still looked damp, but he was dressed all the way down to the borrowed worn work boots he wore.

  “Oh,” she said, as if surprised to see him. “I came in through the front. I didn’t know anyone was up.”

  “I was just washing up.” He watched her carefully, showing no sign of having been asleep.

  He must be an early riser. A strange habit for a man who didn’t work, she thought.

  “No suit today?” Em couldn’t help but notice he was wearing the same clothes she’d given him last night. She noticed a bloodstain just above one knee. His wound had bled a little after she’d stitched it.

  “Are you still going to allow me to ride with you today?” He walked almost within reaching distance from her and stopped.

  She poured him a cup of coffee and handed it to him before she answered. “If you’re up for it. I guess you can tag along.”

  “I am,” he answered, as if she couldn’t see the damage the day before had done to him.

  “Do you want me to check the cut?”

  “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it. I’ve already put a fresh dressing on the wound. The bleeding has stopped, thanks to your excellent stitching.” He glanced at the skillet she was holding. “I wouldn’t mind sharing those eggs, if you’re offering.”

  She smiled. “I am. I guessed you’d be up early again, so I made enough for two.”

  “How thoughtful,” he said, pulling out his own chair and taking a seat.

  She shrugged. “I just didn’t want you passing out on me if you insisted on tagging along.” She dumped half the eggs on his plate. “And don’t get any ideas that I’m waiting on you in here. You’re doing the dishes.”

  “You got it, boss. What do we do today?”

  Em watched him slice off two thick pieces of bread and drop one on her plate. This guy must come from the strangest rich family in the world. They did no work, they stayed out of the sun, and they ate breakfast like field hands.

  “I thought I’d go into town and pick up some supplies.” She shoveled in her eggs, fearing he’d eat her share if she didn’t. “If you come along, you could pick up clothes that fit your taste better.”

  He looked up and smiled. “We taking the buggy?”

  “No, there’s a back path through the hills. It’ll take half the time.”

  Glancing out the window, he said the obvious. “It’s raining, you know.”

  “I know. Work on a ranch doesn’t stop no matter what the weather. You afraid you’ll shrink if you get wet? You can back out. I’m sure there’ll be plenty going on here to keep you busy.”

  “No,” he said. “This place seems to have a tendency to break into song. I’m going with you.”

  His comment made her wonder how bad a job her sisters were doing at entertaining him if he’d rather climb back on a horse in the rain with her.

  Before she could ask, the bedroom door, off the kitchen, opened and little Mrs. Allender waddled out. She was in her robe and had funny little rag bows tied all over her head. “I didn’t mean to interrupt, but I thought I smelled coffee.”

  Em and Lewt both stood as she came closer. Lewt pulled out her chair as Em got her a cup of coffee.

  “Thank you, dear,” Mrs. Allender said. “You must be Em. The girls told me yesterday that there was a woman running the ranch while the McMurray men were away. I must say, I admire a woman who makes her own way. When my Jessie was alive he used to say that he couldn’t manage the house and I couldn’t run the farm, but together we could do anything. He must have been right, because he bought more land every year and I had another baby. After thirty years we owned a good-sized corner of Mississippi.”

  “And you had a house full of children?” Em asked.

  Mrs. Allender sipped her coffee, then shook her head. “For a while we did, but then my three oldest boys died in Andersonville prison during the war. Davis only has one brother left, but I’m blessed with five daughters. During the war, they dressed like you are now and did what had to be done.”

  “You must be very proud of them,” Em said as she put her hand on the old woman’s arm.

  “Oh, I am. My children are my true wealth in this world. They all want to take up farming like their parents and grandparents, but my Davis, he wants to be an architect. He’s says Austin is growing. It’s the place he belongs. It’s his chance to leave a mark.”

  Em found the sweet little woman interesting, but the first hint of dawn shone through the windows. “We have to go,” she said. “The rain seems to be letting up and I’ve a full day of work planned. It was a pleasure to meet you.”

  Mrs. Allender bid them good-bye as Em almost pulled Lewt out of the warm kitchen and into the rain.

  “It’s not letting up,” he grumbled as he pulled on the dirty slicker she handed him. “If anything, it’s worse.”

  She stepped off the porch and yelled back at him, “Then stay here and sing.”

  “Not a chance,” he said as he followed her, splashing mud with each step.

  In the shadowy light of the barn, he saddled his own horse. Sumner showed up about the time he finished and offered his hand. “Morning, stranger. Glad you’re up for another day. Thought Miss Em might have killed you yesterday.”

  Lewt took the man’s hand, then felt something slimy spread from the old man’s palm to his.

  When he frowned the old man laughed. “Don’t blame me, son. Miss Em said you’d need some of that for your hands. Rub it in good and it’ll help keep those blisters from getting infected.”

  Lewt wondered how she’d even noticed, but he didn’t say anything when he met her at the door. A few of the ranch hands watched them, but none said a word to her or him.

  She swung up and watched him climb into the saddle more slowly. “If I take you with me across the pass, I have to blindfold you.”

  “You’re kidding.” He looked like his morning had just gone from bad to worse.

  She pulled out a red bandanna. “It’s this or you don’t go. No one outside the family and a few trusted friends is allowed to know the back way into Whispering Mountain.”

  He looked like he might swear, but instead he took the handkerchief and tied it around his eyes.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll lead you safely through.”

  He grabbed the saddle horn and waited, telling himself he trusted her. After all she wouldn’t waste oil on his hands if she was planning to let him fall off the first ledge they came to.

  Em made a slight clicking sound that started both horses moving.

  She had no idea what he was up to, but he seemed willing to do whatever was necessary in order to get it. They rode behind the house and began to climb. She’d been taught how to slice through the hills to the town without leaving a path an intruder could follow. There were points along the journey where she knew to stop to make sure she wasn’t being tailed. The state wasn’t as wild as it had been, but the family still kept the path secret. If rustlers would steal cattle, they’d steal horses as well.

  Lewt had been right about the rain. It did seem to be falling harder, and the trip took more time than usual because she had to move slower across slippery rocks. Lewt didn’t say a word. Without a hat, she was surprised he wasn’t half drowned by the time they reached the summit and began the trip down. She might not know who the man was or what he was up to, but he wasn’t a complainer. That one thing she liked about Lewt.

  When they reached a wooded area at the corner of town, Em told him he could take off the blindfold. She handed him the reins to his horse and noticed Lewt hadn’t shaved. A dark shadow of the beginnings of a beard made him look far more like an ou
tlaw than a man from a good family.

  “You all right?” she asked as she watched him wipe his eyes with the wet bandanna.

  “Do you care?” he answered.

  “Not really.” She laughed. “But I might get my pay docked for killing one of the guests.”

  He glared at her. “I’m all right. Don’t worry about me.”

  “I won’t.” She turned to cross a stream and never looked back to see if he followed.

  When they reached the road, he pulled even with her.

  Within a few hundred yards, buildings began to block the wind. Em pointed to the train station. “I’ve got business. I’ll meet you at the station in an hour. You can leave your horse in the covered area over by the livery. They never bother McMurray horses. The town square is just beyond. You’ll find several stores there. You might even talk the tailor into making you another black suit.”

  He didn’t smile when she looked over at him. Em told herself she didn’t care. She had banking to do, a list of supplies to pick up from Tamela’s mother, and a stop at the post office to make. She had no time to babysit him.

  Her first stop was the post office, where the postman’s wife told her to be careful. A couple of no-good drifters had been robbing folks outside town. The woman said they were probably two of a dozen or so trail tramps who wintered in town waiting for spring and the cattle drives to start. Most of their types made money in the spring and summer and then found odd jobs come fall. Those who didn’t work either budgeted their money or looked for work on the other side of the law.

  Touching her Colt strapped to her leg, Em felt like she could handle any trouble that came along. Over their mother’s protests, Papa had taught all three of the girls to handle a gun.

  She stopped by the sheriff’s office to see if any of the deputies had heard from her uncle Drummond. When he was in town serving as sheriff, the wrong type never hung around long, but he always went with his wife, Sage, when she made her rounds doctoring the sick.