Sweet Cherry Ray

by McClure, Marcia Lynn

  It was enough! With her assurance she would not keep him from whatever trail he was on, Cherry’s mouth flooded with moisture and desire as Lobo kissed her again.

  Was this what freedom was? Was this what it looked like, smelled like? Was the wonderful feeling of holding Cherry in his arms, kissing her the way he’d only dreamed of kissing a woman—was this where the change in the trail might lead?

  Lobo fought the ideas coming to his mind—thoughts of settling, of giving up what he’d come to Blue Water to do. Visions of Cherry reading to children under a tree, dressed up in a pink dress for Sunday service—overwhelming visions of her smile, her touch, her laughter washed over Lobo like a lovely mountain waterfall.

  He swore to himself that nothing in heaven or on the green, green earth tasted as good as Sweet Cherry Ray did—nothing smelled as fragrant, fit as perfectly in his arms. A man could choose another trail—if Cherry Ray was at the end of it. Maybe her daddy had been right. Maybe he could give up his planned meeting with Black Jack Haley. Maybe he could forget the reason he’d come to Blue Water—trade it for a much, much better reason.

  Yet another vision crept into his mind, tainting his dreams. His past was behind him—too close behind him—and it could mean danger for the beautiful girl he held in his arms. He tried to stop kissing her—tried to push her away—keep himself from drinking in the warm flavor of her mouth, but he couldn’t. One minute more—just one. One more minute of holding her, kissing her, dreaming she could belong to him. One more moment and he’d leave her—give her up to keep her safe.

  The shots rang out, and Lobo’s body jerked with the force and pain of the bullets riddling his body. Cherry screamed as Lobo pushed her—pushed her back against the tree—protecting her from the bullets cutting the air and him.

  “Oof!” he panted as another shot rang out—as another bullet hit him.

  Cherry couldn’t breathe as she watched Lobo draw his pistol and turn to face whomever was shooting at them. She screamed as she saw two red-haired men on horseback. Lobo hammered and triggered his pistol, and one of the men lurched and fell off his horse. The other man seemed to pause, looked at Cherry and then to Lobo, turned his horse, and rode off at a mad gallop.

  Lobo reeled back, staggered, and dropped to his knees in the grass beneath the cherry tree.

  “I-I shoulda never looked at you…never touched you,” he panted.

  Trembling and sobbing, Cherry saw the blood soaking Lobo’s shirt at the right shoulder and arm—at his right leg and right hip. Trying to keep from screaming—from fainting—Cherry counted the wounds. Five! Five bullets had struck him—at least five!

  “I…I gotta get ya back to yer pa,” he panted as he stood and holstered his gun. He stumbled, his knees buckling, nearly sending him to the ground once more.

  “We’ve got to get you to Doc Milton, Lobo!” she cried.

  He shook his head. “Y-you get to yer pa,” he breathed. “I can take care of myself.” Again he shook his head as if trying to wake himself. He reached out, taking her face between his hands. “You’ll be safe with yer pa,” he said.

  Cherry saw the movement—saw the man who had fallen from his horse sit up in the grass. As the man leveled a rifle at Lobo’s back, Cherry reached over, drawing Lobo’s pistol from the holster at his hip. Her shot rang out first, and the man fell backward into the grass. He groaned where he lay, but Cherry didn’t care. He’d ambushed Lobo McCoy—the man she loved—and Cherry didn’t care if he bled to death where he lay in her pa’s pasture.

  “Cherry!” Lobo growled, taking the pistol from her hand and holstering it once more. “You need to get to yer pa!”

  “I’ll get you to the doctor,” she said, taking his arm and draping it over her shoulder. “Then I’ll get to my pa!”

  

  Lobo’s blood was seemingly everywhere! Cherry had never seen so much. And he was weak. No matter how he scolded and growled as they rode to town on the back of the horse belonging to the man who now lay bleeding out in Arthur Ray’s pasture, Cherry ignored him. He’d die if he wasn’t tended to. He’d die! Never had she known such fear—such overwhelming fear!

  “Here, Cherry,” he said, suddenly ripping the leather from her hand and reining in before the jailhouse. “Drop me here and get on back home.” He tried to dismount but collapsed to the ground. Instantly, Cherry dismounted, took hold of his arms, and helped him as he struggled to stand.

  Lobo pushed at her and growled, “Get away from me before I get ya killed!”

  But she followed him, helped him as he stumbled into the jailhouse.

  “What in tarnation?” Sheriff Gibbs exclaimed as Lobo stumbled into the room. “Cherry Ray! What’re you doin’ with this outlaw?”

  “There’s a man out in the pasture…in Arthur Ray’s south pasture,” Lobo stammered.

  “Lobo!” she cried. “We need to get you to the—”

  “He tried to gun me down,” Lobo said.

  “Looks to me like he did,” Sheriff Gibbs said.

  Cherry’s hand stung with the force of the slap she delivered to Sheriff Gibbs. The coward stood stunned into silence.

  Lobo looked to Cherry. Even for his weakness and the pain he was enduring, he grinned at her—nodding his approval of the hard slap she’d delivered to Sheriff Gibbs’s cheek.

  “Get out there and drag him in here so I can talk to him once I’m patched up,” Lobo said.

  “I got a better idea, stranger,” Sheriff Gibbs said. “How about I put you in one of these here cells! I ain’t heard back yet…but I’m sure there’s a price on your head, and I aim to claim it!”

  Cherry gasped as Lobo’s fist met with Sheriff Gibbs’s nose. Reaching into his pocket while Sheriff Gibbs was pressing his hands to his face to ease the pain and bleeding, Lobo withdrew what looked to be a coin. He tossed it on the desk in front of the sheriff.

  “Lobo McCoy,” he breathed. “Texas Ranger…and yer a damn fool!”

  Cherry sobbed as Lobo’s strong body gave into the need for unconsciousness. Dropping to her knees, she pressed her ear against his chest. His heart still beat; his breath, though shallow, told her he still lived.

  As if sent by heaven’s angels themselves, Billy Parker burst into the room.

  “Cherry!” he hollered. “Wh-what happened? I saw ya ride in with Lobo and—”

  “Texas Ranger?” Sheriff Gibbs breathed as he picked up the old Mexican coin fashioned into the familiar badge of a Texas Ranger.

  “Take that horse just outside, Billy,” Cherry instructed. “Take that horse and ride over to Doc Milton’s. Tell him Lobo’s been shot, and send him here. Then ride home and fetch my pa. Tell him Lobo McCoy’s been shot…bad! He’ll know what to do.”

  Without another word, Billy nodded and raced outside.

  “There were two of ’em,” Cherry said to Sheriff Gibbs. “Two men shot him down. One’s in the pasture…dead, I hope! The other rode off toward town.”

  Sheriff Gibbs stood astonished into silence.

  “Lobo McCoy…” he whispered. “Right here in Blue Water.”

  Cherry shook her head. Reaching up, she snatched Lobo’s badge from Sheriff Gibbs and slipped it into the pocket of her britches. Wiping more tears from her face, she stood and bolted the jailhouse door. She hurried to the gun rack nearby and pulled a Winchester rifle from its place.

  “Now—now you be careful, Cherry Ray,” Sheriff Gibbs stammered. “That there gun’s loaded.”

  Leveling the rifle at the coward standing before her, Cherry whispered, “I know.”

  Chapter Ten

  “N-now, Cherry,” Sheriff Gibbs stammered. “Yer upset. Ya ain’t thinkin’ clear.”

  “Set a fire in that stove, and get the water in that kettle to heatin’ up, Sheriff,” she said, ignoring the tears streaming over her cheeks.

  When the sheriff didn’t move, Cherry steadied the rifle and nodded toward the potbellied stove and kettle in one corner of the room.

  “Now, Cherry…I�
��m the law ’round here.”

  “Yer no lawman,” Cherry said. “Yer just a coward someone was dumb enough to give a badge over to. Now stoke that fire. Doc Milton will need hot water when he gets here.”

  “Now, Cherry—” he said, shaking his head.

  “Lobo shot the feller in the pasture off his horse, Sheriff…but I’m the one who shot him when he tried to get up. So don’t think I won’t shoot a man who refuses to help Lobo now…any man.”

  Cherry shook her head as she saw Sheriff Gibbs reach for the gun at his hip. “Don’t even consider on that,” she said. “’Cause if I don’t shoot ya dead, my pa surely will. Now set that fire.”

  Sheriff Gibbs swallowed hard and nodded. Slowly, he turned and went to the stove. She glanced down at Lobo—so still and lifeless on the jailhouse floor.

  “I didn’t know he was a Ranger, Cherry,” Sheriff Gibbs said as he worked on setting a fire. “Them new boys in town—them Baxter boys—they showed up here all bloodied and beat. They said they was out walkin’ when a man called Lobo took to beatin’ ’em. They had their pa and his brother with ’em.”

  Cherry felt her eyes narrow as fury blazed hot through her whole body.

  “And bein’ the coward that ya are…you sent ’em out after us,” she said.

  “I…I told ’em Lobo was a stranger, that we didn’t know much about him…so I couldn’t rightly bring him in when—”

  “You told him Lobo was an outlaw, and you sent them ridin’ after him with the idea of a reward bein’ offered,” she said through clenched teeth. “I know you better than you think I do, Sheriff. I’ve watched you hidin’ in the corners of this town for years!”

  “Well, he shouldn’ta beat them two boys!” Sheriff Gibbs shouted, turning to face Cherry. “It weren’t right, him beatin’ on them two innocent—”

  “Innocent?” she cried. “Them two boys was bullyin’ the Parker children and me! One of them hit Billy Parker so hard I thought he’d busted his jaw. They pushed Pocket and Laura around…and then the biggest one tried to choke the life outta me! I don’t know what woulda happened if Lobo hadn’t been right there to protect us! You idiot! You idiot! How did you ever get that badge?”

  There was a knock on the door, and Doc Milton hollered, “It’s me, Sheriff. Let me on in, would ya?”

  Sheriff Gibbs started toward the door.

  “Drop yer gun at my feet first,” Cherry ordered.

  “Now, Cherry—”

  “Do it! Drop it now!”

  Sheriff Gibbs shook his head. Slowly he slipped his gun from the holster and leaned over, laying it at Cherry’s feet. Cherry kicked the pistol, sending it sliding under the desk and out of Sheriff Gibbs’s reach.

  “Now open that door and let Doc Milton in,” she said.

  Sheriff Gibbs’s chest rose and fell with the labored breathing of barely restrained anger. Still, as Cherry kept her rifle leveled at him, he went to the door and drew the bolt.

  “Billy Parker says some feller got shot,” Doc Milton said.

  “Close the door and bolt it,” Cherry said, glaring at Sheriff Gibbs.

  “Cherry Ray!” Doc Milton exclaimed. “What in tarnation do ya think yer doin’?”

  “Lobo McCoy’s a Texas Ranger, Doc,” Cherry explained. “Two men ambushed us and shot him—five times as near as I can count when I’m so rattled up.”

  “A Texas Ranger?” Doc Milton breathed as his attention fell to the man sprawled on the floor.

  “Fact is, I think Sheriff Gibbs can be held responsible…bein’ that he sent the two men who shot him,” Cherry said.

  “Now wait just a doggone minute, Cherry,” Sheriff Gibbs began.

  “Get back there,” she ordered. “Back into one of the jail cells.”

  “What?” he hollered.

  “Until my pa gets here, yer gonna stay locked up where you can’t hurt anybody else.”

  Striding toward him, Cherry let the muzzle of her rifle press firm against the sheriff’s throat. “Get on back there,” she said.

  Sheriff Gibbs’s eyes narrowed. Yet what choice did he have? Cherry followed him back to the furthest cell. Checking his pockets to make sure he didn’t have a key hidden on him, she pushed him into the cell, slamming the iron door hard behind him.

  Reaching up, she took the key to the cell off the hook on the wall and slipped it into her pocket.

  “I hope my pa never lets you outta there,” she said. Lowering her rifle, she hurried back to the front of the building.

  “Help me strip his shirt off, Cherry,” Doc Milton said. “He’s hurt bad, and we best hurry.” Doc Milton shook his head. “A Texas Ranger. Who’da thought it?”

  “My pa,” Cherry breathed. She understood—in that moment she understood why her pa had wanted her to stay away from Lobo McCoy.

  Arthur Ray had known the moment Lobo had told him his first name that he was a Ranger. It had been Arthur who had revealed Lobo’s last name—told Cherry, Mrs. Blakely, and Lefty Pierce not to mention it to the townsfolk. No doubt Arthur suspected Lobo was gunning for Black Jack Haley or some other outlaw. He’d wanted Cherry to stay clean away from the trouble the fact of it might bring. Nobody in the world knew the danger a Texas Ranger’s woman faced better than Arthur Ray did—Texas Ranger Arthur Ray, whose young wife had been killed in a shootout between Arthur Ray and a man who’d escaped from prison and come gunning for him.

  Cherry had been a baby when her mother had been killed. She didn’t remember it, of course, but she had been told the story by her pa once, and she’d read about it in an old paper Mrs. Blakely kept in the trunk in her room.

  A murdering outlaw named Parson Shea had escaped from a prison near San Antonio and gone gunning for the Ranger that brought him in—Arthur Ray. Arthur didn’t know Parson Shea had escaped and had no reason to suspect he or his wife and new baby girl were in danger. Parson Shea rode into Blue Water. Telling folks he was a cowhand looking for work, he was sent out to Arthur Ray’s ranch. He dropped two of Cherry’s pa’s cowboys before he headed toward the house. Arthur heard the shots and crutched himself out to the lean-to. He’d told his wife, Jenny, to stay inside with the baby—to lay low under the bed in the bedroom. But when Jenny Ray heard the gunfire start, she was frightened—worried for her husband’s safety. After all, Arthur had lost a leg in the war and wasn’t as healthy and hearty as he once was. Jenny had left the baby safely swaddled under the bed and gone to help her husband. Leveling a rifle at the outlaw, Jenny Ray fired through the kitchen window. Her bullet grazed Parson Shea’s head but didn’t daze him enough to keep him from shooting back. Arthur Ray dropped Parson Shea cold dead—but not before Parson Shea had triggered, hitting Jenny Ray square in the bosom.

  “Let’s just tear his shirt off,” Doc Milton was saying. “He’s too big to strip easy. We can rip through his britches when the time comes.”

  Cherry brushed tears from her cheeks and laid the rifle on the floor beside Lobo. Quickly, she helped Doc Milton tear Lobo’s vest and shirt. A folded length of paper slipped from Lobo’s vest pocket as she tossed it out of the way.

  Doc Milton shook his head and said, “That’d most likely be his Warrant of Authority. Gibbs is a dang fool!”

  Cherry picked up the paper, shoving it into her pocket with Lobo’s badge.

  “Help me roll him over,” Doc Milton said.

  Lobo’s lifeless body was heavy and difficult to maneuver. Still, she managed to help Doc Milton roll him over, grimacing as she saw the three bloody holes in Lobo’s shoulder and arm.

  Again, Doc Milton shook his head. “This here’s one tough boy,” he mumbled. “Look there,” he mumbled, pointing to five scars on Lobo’s back. The scars were each about the size of a nickel—visible proof Lobo had survived being shot before. “I wouldn’t be surprised to find he’s got more the like on him somewhere else. I always sit in wonder at how one man can find himself cold in the ground from one bullet…but then some feller like this comes along who seems to be a walkin’ miracl
e.”

  Cherry brushed the tears from her cheeks. “W-will he be all right this time?”

  Doc Milton shook his head, “I don’t know. I just don’t know.”

  Cherry winced as Doc Milton stuck his finger into one of the bullet wounds on Lobo’s shoulder.

  “They ain’t deep. I think I can pull ’em all out all right…as long as they’re all this shallow.”

  “The men who shot him weren’t too awful close to us.”

  “Good thing. Them bein’ so far is probably what saved him this long.”

  “There’s hot water in that kettle on the stove.”

  “Bring it on over. I’ll see to these here shots in his shoulder and arm first off. Then we’ll get to the rest.”

  Cherry looked at the open wounds on Lobo’s shoulder and arm. Slowly her gaze traveled over his back to the tear in his britches—the one he’d gotten while jumping the fence to avoid old Snort. The seat of his britches was covered in blood now, as was his leg just below.

  Cherry suddenly felt very dizzy. She thought of Lobo’s kissing her beneath her mother’s cherry tree. She could still taste the sweet flavor of summer cherries in her mouth—still feel his hands in her hair—his strong arms binding her to him. He couldn’t die! He couldn’t! If Lobo died, Cherry was certain her own heart would quit beating. She’d ask her pa to bury her next to him—so that she could lie with him forever—turn to dust with him close to her.

  “Tear his shirt into strips for me, Cherry. I’m gonna dig these bullets out.”

  Cherry looked to Lobo—studied his face for a moment. How she wished his eyes would open and look at her!

  “Come on now, Cherry Ray. You brung him this far. Don’t you go faintin’ on me now.”

  “I-I won’t,” she whispered as she watched Doc Milton insert some sort of medical tool into one of the wounds at Lobo’s shoulder. “I won’t.”