Love on the Line

by Deeanne Gist

  The gun still dangled in Lucious’s fingers. “It’s mine.”

  “That there gun belongs to Lucious Landrum. Is part of a pair.”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, what’re you doin’ with it?”

  He gave the man a look full of promises. “I own it. Have owned it for nigh on fifteen years. And I don’t plan on parting with it anytime soon. The question is, how do you want the bullets? Poured out into your hand, or shot clean through your heart?”

  The bandit’s pistol began to shake. “Boss!” he shouted.

  A man taking goods from the lined-up passengers looked over his shoulder, then jogged to them.

  “Take a gander o’ that,” the one covering Lucious said. “Claims it’s his and he’ll let us have the bullets but not the pistol.”

  The boss’s gaze went from the bone-handle carvings to Lucious’s face. “What’s yer name?”

  “Lucious Landrum.” He smiled. “Would you like me to prove it?”

  The question hung in the air, right alongside Luke’s pistol.

  The boss stilled. “Who’s he with?”

  “That gal over yonder. The pretty one with the five little girls.”

  The boss glanced at Georgie, then back at Lucious. “Where’s the other pistol that goes with this one?”

  “You never know,” Lucious answered, his voice dropping. “But he doesn’t like to be far from his woman and will go to any lengths—any—to protect her.”

  The boss paled and exchanged a worried glance with his comrade. Neither made a move toward Luke’s pistol.

  Georgie could see he was losing his patience. He’d come a long way from the man who charged in first and thought later. But he did have his limits.

  “Why’re the robbers staring at Pa?” Tina asked.

  Georgie looked down at their oldest, not far from the age of the girl who’d been at Georgie’s side that long-ago day she’d first laid eyes on the man who would become her husband. “They recognize your father and fear for their lives.”

  “But there’s two of them and only one of Pa.”

  “Yes.”

  From the opposite end of the train, a group of men on horseback burst from the forest. “Get down!”

  The command sailed above their heads and broached no argument.

  Spreading her arms, Georgie brought the girls down with her. “Cover your heads,” she shouted, then glanced to the side.

  The men who’d been with Lucious were without pistols, their hands in the air while he held them at gunpoint.

  Good heavens, that was fast. She was sorry she’d missed it. It had been a long time since she’d seen him disarm a man.

  Gunshots cracked above them like firecrackers.

  “Mama,” Christine cried.

  “Shhhh.” She reached over and squeezed one of the twins’ arms. “I’m right here, girls. Don’t worry, help has arrived. Just stay on the ground until they tell us we can get up.”

  “Where’s Pa?” Jessamine sobbed, flinching after each shot.

  “He’s part of the help. Don’t worry. Everything will be fine.”

  As quickly as it started, the clash between the outlaws and the charging lawmen stopped.

  “Can we get up?” Tina whispered.

  “Not yet, but soon.” The girls scooted closer, their backsides lifting like inchworms. Georgie stretched her arms as far as she could reach.

  “It’s okay, folks,” a young man shouted, his spurs clinking as he walked the line. “You can get on up now. Danger’s over.”

  The dusty pair of boots stopped beside her. The jinglebobs dangling from the spur’s shank still swayed, though the man had quit walking. A thin, youthful hand came into her line of vision. “Ma’am.”

  Grasping it, she rose, then shook the dust from her skirts. “Thank you.”

  The girls bounced up beside her like jack-in-the-boxes.

  Pushing the brim of his hat back, the young man grinned. “Hey. I recognize you. You’re that bird lady.”

  She scanned the area, then saw Lucious shaking hands with some of the Rangers, clapping others on the shoulders. Once she’d ascertained he was hale and whole, she returned her attention to the lad. “How do you do, I’m Georgie Landrum.”

  “Yeah. I know.” He touched his brim. “I’m Benito von Hiller. But ever’body calls me Hyena.”

  She stilled, examining the eyes of . . . No, it couldn’t be. “Bett—”

  “Benito. I’m part of the posse these Rangers put together this morning.” Benito’s gaze traveled over the girls. “Are all these yours?”

  Joy at seeing Bettina filled her. Try as they had, no one in town had been able to tame the young girl or keep her from her tomboyish ways. Her father had died the year Georgie carried her first child. Shortly after von Schiller’s death, Bettina had stopped by the cottage to bid Georgie and Lucious good-bye.

  “It’s time I moved on,” she’d said. “There’s a whole world out there and I have me a hankerin’ ta see it.”

  “But you’re only eleven. Where will you go? What will you do? How will you eat? Wouldn’t you rather stay here and live with me and Mr. Lucious?”

  “No, ma’am. I like y’all just fine, but I got me some wanderlust what cain’t be ignored.”

  Wanderlust. At the time, Georgie assumed the girl had picked the word up in a saloon of one sort or another. Now she quickly did the math. Ten years of wanderlust. She was twenty-one years old and pretending to be a man?

  Good heavens. The Rangers would be horrified, aghast to discover she was a female. Georgie couldn’t imagine the rough talk she must have put up with this day.

  “I hear tell they just passed a tariff act banning the importation of wild bird feathers.” Bettina took out a pouch of Honey Dew chewing tobacco and stuck a wad in her lower lip. “Called it the Georgie Gail Landrum Act.”

  Ignoring the tobacco, Georgie smiled. “Yes. That’s where we were. We’re on our way home from Austin right now.”

  “Congratulations. That’ll shore put a crimp in the plume trade.”

  “Yes. Yes, it will.”

  “Heard the boys were released a couple o’ years back. You ever see any of ’em? Duane?”

  Georgie’s smile widened. “Duane was released much earlier than the others. He’s so respectable you’d hardly recognize him. He married Mattieleene Honnkernamp and preaches at the German Methodist Church over on Quitman.”

  “He don’t, neither.”

  “He does. And his sermon illustrations are vastly amusing.”

  Bettina chuckled. “I can just imagine. Mattieleene.” She shook her head. “I wonder if he wishes he were back in the calaboose rather than being saddled with that gal.”

  “They seem to be very happy.”

  “Well, what do ya know about that? And the rest of ’em?”

  “Well, let’s see. Lulie Necker ran off with another man while Arnold was in jail. He’s back on his farm now but has turned awfully bitter. Mr. Finkel and Blesinger are both home and staying on the straight and narrow. The Ragstons moved to Kansas or some such place. We have no news on that front.”

  Bettina nodded. “Well, I’ve always a’wondered.”

  Fingering a button on her jacket, Georgie hesitated. Luke had told her of Comer’s true identity the moment they’d had some privacy that long-ago day of the man’s arrest. But while incarcerated, Alec had refused to speak to Luke or interact with him in any way. “You ever hear anything about Frank Comer?”

  Bettina shook her head. “Nothin’. After he escaped from jail, it was like he plumb disappeared into thin air.”

  Georgie’s shoulders slumped. “Well, if you ever hear anything, we’d sure appreciate a quick note or telegram.”

  “You bet.” She spit out a wad of tobacco juice, swiping her lower lip with her cuff. “It shore is good ta see ya.”

  “Same here.” Reaching out, she gave Bettina’s hand a squeeze. “What are you doing, dressed like this?”

  “Seein’ the wo
rld. Pickin’ up jobs here and there.”

  Georgie shook her head. “Clothes do not make the man, B-Benito.”

  The girl grinned. “They’re sure mighty comfortable, though. Now, ya gonna introduce me ta all these lovely ladies?”

  Sighing, Georgie nodded. “Of course.” She started with Julia, the youngest, and ended with their oldest. “And this is Tina. She’s ten.” Georgie placed her hands on Tina’s shoulders. “Her name is short for Bettina.”

  The young woman whipped her head up, surprise and wonder filling her gaze. “Well, if that don’t beat all. I . . . I . . .” She looked again at Tina.

  “Hyena,” one of the men called. “You gonna jaw all day or give us a hand?”

  Lucious whipped his head around at the nickname, his gaze landing on Bettina.

  She turned back to Georgie. “I gotta go.”

  “I understand. If you’re ever in Brenham . . .”

  The girl shook her head. “Don’t know as that would be a real good i-deer.” Squatting down to Tina’s eye level, she took her by the arms. “I want ya to remember somethin’, Miss Tina. Ain’t nothing a man can do that a woman cain’t do better. Ya hear?”

  The girl nodded, her blond curls bouncing. Lucious stepped up next to them. Though he no longer wore overalls on a regular basis, neither did he dress in fancy clothes. Just a string tie, chambray shirt, vest, and denim trousers, with a single holstered gun belt strapped across his hips. He’d never looked better.

  Bettina rose, winked at Georgie, then tipped her hat at Luke. “Ma’am. Sir. If you’ll excuse me.”

  They watched her swagger off to assist her fellow posse members.

  “Was that . . . ?”

  “Yes,” Georgie said.

  “But she’s a—”

  Squeezing his hand, she shook her head.

  “Mama?”

  Georgie looked down. “Yes, Tina?”

  “Is that true? What that man said?”

  “What’d sh—he say?” Lucious asked.

  “That there isn’t anything a man can do that a woman can’t do better.”

  Lucious’s eyebrows shot up.

  “No, dear,” Georgie answered. “There’s a big difference in reaching for the best we can be and in trying to be something we are not and never will be.”

  “So women can’t do everything men can?” Tina clarified.

  “I’m afraid not.” A slow grin began to form. “Women can do more.”

  “Georgie,” Lucious admonished.

  Laughter bubbled up within her. “Some things are just different, that’s all.”

  He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her close. “I think, Bettina Landrum, your mama is full of sass from getting that piece of legislation named after her.”

  “She is?” Tina asked.

  “She is.” He looked over his brood of girls. “But the truth is, your mama can do anything she sets her mind to.”

  Georgie gave him a playful push. “Don’t tease, Lucious. They’ll believe you.”

  “And well they should.” Leaning over, he gave her a kiss flush on the lips.

  In a cry of protest, their daughters covered their eyes and expressed their disgust at such a display from people so old they didn’t even have telephones when they were little.

  Author’s Note

  This was such a fun book to research. Not only because of the variety, but because I had the good fortune to find some wonderful turn-of-the-century material which I was able to incorporate into the novel. The Frank Comer character was based loosely on an actual Texas train robber who garnered the support of citizens in the ways Comer did and ended up becoming a legend.

  Luke’s character was loosely based on a combination of real Texas Rangers. I read up on several and took the parts I found most intriguing, then compiled them into one character. We really did have a Ranger who was known for his fancy duds, who had ornate pistols with carvings of a boy and a girl—which he wore closest to his heart—and which he’d inscribed with a motto almost word-for-word to Luke’s. (He didn’t name his pistols, though. At least, not that I know of.)

  The water moccasin incident? Really happened to one of our Rangers when he was a boy.

  The speedy disarming of bad guys when the odds were against the Ranger? Really happened—one Ranger being particularly known for this.

  The rounding up of the train robbers? Really happened the way I depicted it in the book except instead of posing as a troubleman, the real Ranger posed as a tree salesman and made sales calls to the outlying farms until he could determine which were the gang members and which were not. When he was ready to round them up, no one would join his posse—not unless he planned to bring an army of soldiers along with him (which, of course, he had no intention of doing). After a great deal of effort, he found one man willing to drive the hack; then he rounded up the gang single-handedly, one by one. The captures of the Comer Gang in Love on the Line are retellings of the arrests he made back in the day. (All except for Alec’s arrest. I made that one up.)

  And didn’t you just love Brenham? They really did host the 26th Annual Texas State Sportsmen’s Tournament. No one cheated, of course, but the 1903 Brenham Banner covered the tournament in their newspaper (which was on microfiche), and Kenny Ray Estes of the Trapshooting Hall of Fame had the entire tournament on microfiche as well. It was one of the last tournaments in the country to use live birds.

  Brenham still celebrates Maifest every year, so if you’re ever in the Houston area around the beginning of May, it’s only about an hour and a half northeast of us and an absolute treat. Leaving a Mai tree at your sweetheart’s door is a real tradition, but I don’t know if it’s one Brenham specifically followed. The Brenham festival also has a Maifest King, not just a queen. But we already had a cast of thousands in this book, so I had to leave him out. Sorry about that!

  Nellie Bly was, in fact, one of the most famous women in the world and way ahead of her time. There really was a Nellie Bly game and all sorts of things—including a Nellie Bly hat. But I have absolutely no idea if it had any bird parts on it. I made that up.

  And how could I set an entire novel in Brenham and not give Blue Bell Ice Cream a shout-out? Their first ice cream was cranked in 1911 in a wooden tub with a maximum output of two gallons per day. But the 1903 Brenham Banner advertised an ice cream parlor which opened for the spring and summer months. So I tweaked the name of it to reflect Blue Bell’s patriarchs, H.C. Hodde and E.F. Kruse.

  The toothache gum and digestive tablets displayed in the book’s ice cream parlor were inspired by an old generic tintype I found. I had to get out my magnifying glass, but upon close inspection, that’s what they had sitting right up on the counter. LOL. My inclusion of it is, of course, no reflection on the Blue Bell Creamery—as anyone who’s had the great privilege of tasting their ice cream knows. As we speak, I have in my freezer a half gallon of their mint chocolate chip, a half gallon of cookies and cream, and a pint of coconut fudge. Yum!

  And finally, the bird conservation movement was a hot topic of the time and spearheaded by women. Eventually, a tariff act banning the importation of wild bird parts was in fact passed in 1913 as a result of the pressure the women exerted. (And all before women gained the right to vote!)

  I hope you enjoyed reading Love on the Line as much as I enjoyed writing it. I would love to hear from you. You can find me on Facebook (facebook.com/DeesCircle) and on my website, IWantHerBook.com. I hope to see you there!

  Blessings, Dee

  Books by Deeanne Gist

  * * *

  A Bride Most Begrudging

  The Measure of a Lady

  Courting Trouble

  Deep in the Heart of Trouble

  A Bride in the Bargain

  Beguiled *

  Maid to Match

  The Trouble With Brides (3-in-1)

  Love on the Line

  *with J. Mark Bertrand

  e on the Line