Billy smiled, nodded, and said, “I’ll fetch the preacher first!” He turned and ran off in search of the preacher.
Arthur smiled. The street would be cleaned up soon enough, and then he’d see to it—as soon as things settled down, he’d see that the preacher married Cherry and Lobo. The Baxter men who had shot Lobo could sit in the jailhouse a couple more days—as could Clarence Gibbs. He’d let the Rangers from San Antonio decide what do with them. For now, all he cared about was seeing Cherry and Lobo married.
“My little Sweet Cherry,” he whispered, excess moisture filling his eyes. “Sweet Cherry Ray.”
The evening was warm, and the pink- and lavender-colored clouds stretched out across the sunset sky as Lobo McCoy kicked the cabin door open. Carrying Cherry over the threshold, he let her feet drop to the dirt floor and gathered her in his arms.
His kiss was like pure confection. No more delicious thing existed on earth!
“This is the cabin Pa built when he first bought the ranch,” Cherry began as he broke the seal of their lips for a moment, “before the big ranch house was put up.”
“Mm hmmm,” he mumbled, kissing her again.
He was hers—Lobo McCoy belonged to her! The preacher had married them only hours after Lobo had dropped Black Jack and his boys, and it seemed the wedding had served to heal the town of Blue Water—to give the townsfolk hope somehow. Now she stood in the cabin her pa and mother had lived in when they’d first been married—stood there with the man she loved—with the man who loved her.
“Wait here,” he said, suddenly letting go of her. He turned and left the cabin, and Cherry smiled, puzzled. Several moments later, he returned.
“Where did ya go?”
Lobo smiled an alluring smile of mischief and held out one hand to her. In her excitement and bliss, Cherry had forgotten about the cherry tree her mother had planted next to the old cabin. There in Lobo’s palm lay a handful of sweet cherries from the tree.
He took the stem off one of the cherries, tossed it high in the air, and caught it in his mouth a moment before pressing his lips to hers. Cherry’s heart soared as he kissed her, and she giggled as she broke the seal of their lips, turned her head, and spit out the cherry pit she’d retrieved from Lobo’s mouth during their kiss.
Tossing the remaining cherries onto the bed setting against the wall nearby, Lobo pulled Cherry into his arms, gazing lovingly down into her face.
“I love you, Sweet Cherry Ray,” Lobo breathed as his lips lingered a breath from her own.
“That would be Sweet Cherry McCoy,” Cherry giggled. “And oh,” she breathed, running her fingers through his hair, “oh, how I love you!”
And there, in the old cabin, as the sunset sent pink and lavender clouds to sleep, the legend of Sweet Cherry Ray and Lobo McCoy truly began.
Epilogue
Cherry closed the Oklahoma Jenny book she’d been reading. Smiling, she sighed—such pure contentment she’d never imagined. She giggled as Jefferson got to running faster than his little legs could keep up and tumbled into the sweet pasture grass beneath the cherry tree.
“Whoops!” she exclaimed, laughing with merriment as his little dark-haired head popped up and looked at her.
“I falled, Mama,” he said, pushing himself to his feet once more. In an instant, he was off again—running in circles around the tree his grandmother had planted.
“You sure did,” Cherry laughed.
The baby cooed, and Cherry smiled down at her. Jenny was growing so fast! She’d be crawling soon. Cherry shook her head as she smiled at the pretty baby lying on the blanket spread under the shade of the tree. If Jenny turned out to be as good at getting into mischief as Jefferson was, Cherry would never get a living thing done!
“Watch me, Mama! Watch! Watch!” Jefferson called.
“I’m watchin’!” Cherry assured him. Again, she giggled as she watched his little arms and legs pumping as he ran.
“Ain’t I fast?” he asked.
“Mighty fast!”
Cherry gasped and held her breath as Jefferson plowed headlong into another tumble in the grass. He was up and smiling and off again soon enough, however, and Cherry sighed—tuckered out at just thinking about his endless activity.
Picking up a cherry that was lying nearby in the grass, Cherry McCoy rubbed it on her skirt and plopped it into her mouth. The cherries from her mother’s tree seemed sweeter than ever, and she savored its delicious flavor.
“Daddy, Daddy! Daddy’s comin’, Mama!” Jefferson hollered as he took off running away from the tree.
“Jefferson McCoy!” Cherry scolded, catching hold of the waist of his little britches as he ran past her. “You wait right here! Daddy’s ridin’ fast, and you need to be careful. The horse might not see you.”
Cherry smiled as the baby’s arms and legs began wildly kicking with excitement. Both of Lobo McCoy’s children knew when he was near. Cherry was always amazed at how they could sense him. Of course, Lobo said they were the same way about her—knew when she was returning from the garden after having been out awhile or coming back from picking things up in town.
Cherry let go of Jefferson’s britches as Lobo reined up near the tree and dismounted.
“Daddy!” Jefferson hollered, running headlong for Lobo.
“There’s my boy!” Lobo exclaimed, picking Jefferson up and lifting him high over his head for a moment before settling the toddler on his hip.
“I’ve been runnin’ for Mama,” Jefferson said, his little chest puffing out with pride.
“Oh, I bet ya have,” Lobo chuckled, winking at Cherry. He sauntered over to where Cherry and the baby were, and Cherry smiled as the butterflies in her stomach took flight at the sight of him.
“Let me down, Daddy,” Jefferson said. “And I’ll do some good runnin’ for ya!”
“All righty,” Lobo said. “Get to it then. Let me see how fast ya are.”
Cherry laughed, certain Jefferson’s feet were already moving when Lobo set him down.
“And there he goes!” Lobo laughed, shaking his head.
“He’s about to wear me out today,” Cherry said as Lobo knelt down in the grass and kissed Jenny’s soft forehead.
“I can see why,” Lobo said.
“Do you wanna know what I caught him doin’ today?” Cherry asked.
“I don’t know…do I?” Lobo kissed Jenny again, and she smiled and began cooing.
“Feedin’ ol’ Snort sugar through the fence!” she told him. “He poured sugar in his pockets and was lettin’ that ol’ bull lick the sugar off his hands!”
“That ol’ bull sure takes to Jefferson,” Lobo said, smiling as he stretched out on the grass beside Cherry.
“Oh, I know he ain’t mean like he used to be…but it still scares me, Lobo.”
“Jefferson knows not to go past the fence, Cherry.”
“I know…but I still worry.”
Lobo smiled and chuckled. “That’s called payin’ for yer raisin’, honey.”
Cherry rolled her eyes and shook her head. She knew he was right, but it didn’t make her worry any less.
“I checked in on yer pa while I was in town,” Lobo said as Cherry handed him a couple of cherries.
“Is he feelin’ better today?”
Lobo nodded. “Yep. I can tell his leg is botherin’ him, but he was sittin’ right there in the jailhouse jawin’ with Remmy Cooper and Otis Hirsch. Looked as healthy as a horse.”
Cherry still couldn’t believe her pa had accepted the position of sheriff of Blue Water. It seemed so long ago that Black Jack Haley and his boys met their fatal end at the hand of Texas Ranger Lobo McCoy. She thought of the day soon after when her pa had told her he was sheriff of Blue Water—that he was tired of ranching and wanted Lobo to run the ranch. It all seemed so long ago.
Cherry looked at Lobo—studied his handsome face. She thought of the old Mexican coin badge tucked in the bottom of the trunk in the parlor next to Ol’ Red
near the hearth, of the collection of bullets that had been dug out of Lobo’s body at one time or the other lying in the trunk with the badge. Visions of Lobo riding into Blue Water and bathing in the creek leapt to the front of her mind. What an adventure it had all been!
Many were the times Cherry considered on how much more exciting and romantic her life had been than Oklahoma Jenny’s. Lobo was the most wonderful man in the world! Kind, caring, compassionate, and yet more powerful and strong than any man Cherry had ever known, Lobo McCoy could do anything! Anything he set his mind to—including making Cherry’s mouth water for wanting his kiss—simply by being close.
Cherry wondered if Oklahoma Jenny and Sheriff Tate had ever had children. They had finally gotten married in Oklahoma Jenny—Bride of the West, but it had been the last Oklahoma Jenny book published. Cherry shook her head, reminding herself that Oklahoma Jenny was a made-up character in a book, not a real person. Still, she wondered if they had children. She looked at her own—at Jefferson and Jenny—and smiled. Pure contentment—that’s what the moment was.
“I’m glad pa is happy,” Cherry said. “I never thought bein’ a lawman again would give him such gratification.”
Lobo sighed. “Well, Blue Water needed a man who wasn’t afraid of anythin’…and Arthur Ray sure ain’t.”
Cherry smiled and placed one palm on Lobo’s cheek. He smiled, covered her hand with his own, and turned his head to kiss her palm. Goose bumps raced over Cherry’s arms—she couldn’t believe he was real, still couldn’t believe he was hers. Lobo McCoy—her own!
“I saw Billy Parker in town today too,” Lobo said.
“He and Susie Baxter still gettin’ married at the end of the month?” Cherry asked. With her pa in prison, Susie Baxter’s mother had taken hold hard of her boys—whipped them into fine young men. Susie was an angel, and Cherry was glad Billy Parker had finally taken notice of her.
“Yep…and movin’ off to New York City.” Lobo reached around to his back pocket and pulled out a book. “He gave me this…thought you might find it interesting.”
Cherry frowned, puzzled as Lobo handed the book to her. As she turned the book over and read the title, she laughed. “Sweet Cherry Ray and Lobo McCoy!” she squealed. Indeed, the title of the book was The Legend of Sweet Cherry Ray and Lobo McCoy—the drawing in the front that of a woman closely resembling Cherry.
“By Billy Parker,” Cherry whispered, shaking her head in disbelief.
Lobo smiled. “He says he didn’t add nothin’…wrote it just the way it happened. ’Course now everybody knows what a spyin’ little nosy rosy you are.”
“I ain’t spied a lick since I married you,” Cherry said, leaning over and kissing him on the mouth. “Ain’t a thing in this world worth spyin’ on besides Lobo McCoy…and I can see him anytime I want.” Cherry shook her head as she looked at the book again. “I can’t believe it! That Billy Parker.”
“It’s somethin’, ain’t it?” Lobo chuckled.
Cherry looked at Lobo—leaned over and kissed him—giggled when he pulled her into his arms and rolled her over in the grass until he hovered above her.
“Sweet Cherry Ray,” he mumbled as he studied her face—brushed a strand of hair from her forehead. “I still remember that first time I saw you—standin’ there with yer pa and that ol’ dried-up wolf.”
“Well,” Cherry said, smiling, “I always thought wolves were interestin’. Especially them handsome Texas Ranger types.” She pushed his hat from his head and ran her fingers through his soft, dark hair.
“How can it be that I love you more every day?” Lobo mumbled.
“I love you more every day too,” Cherry whispered as his head descended, his mouth capturing hers in a moist, demanding kiss. As always, goose bumps rippled over Cherry’s body at the feel of her husband’s arms around her—at the taste of his cherry-flavored kisses.
“Oh, stop that kissin’!” Jefferson exclaimed as he straddled Lobo’s back. “I want to hear the new book ya brung, Daddy.”
Lobo raised himself onto his hands and knees, and Cherry giggled as she watched him buck and twist like a green-broke horse. Jefferson held onto the back of Lobo’s shirt, laughing with pure glee as his daddy finally managed to buck him off.
“So you wanna hear the new book I brung for yer mama…is that it?” Lobo asked.
Jefferson nodded. “I ranned for a long time…didn’t I, Mama?”
Cherry nodded. He’d sure enough sleep well that night. She figured he’d been running rings around the old tree for near to an hour.
“You did do some runnin’, that’s for certain,” Cherry said.
“Well, then I guess ya oughta be able to hear a bit of yer mama’s new book,” Lobo said. He stretched out on the grass beneath the tree, tucking his hands behind his head. Cherry laughed as she watched Jefferson study his daddy for a moment and then stretch out the same way next to him.
“We’re ready, Mama,” Jefferson said. “Jenny wants to listen too.”
“All righty then,” Cherry said. She picked up the book, shaking her head as she read the title to herself once more.
Lying down in the grass between Lobo and Jenny, she opened the book and began.
Cherry Ray stood and looked up to her pa, retired Texas Ranger Arthur Ray. Arthur’s eyes were narrow, suspicious as he watched the stranger ride into town.
“Oh! This is gonna be a good one, Mama! I can tell,” Jefferson exclaimed. “Keep goin’!”
Cherry smiled and read.
The stranger wore a black hat and pants the like of a Mexican cowboy. The silver buttons on his britches gleamed in the sunlight, and pretty Cherry Ray wondered why such a handsome stranger had come to Blue Water. It was the pistol at the stranger’s hip, however, that caught Arthur Ray’s attention. As the stranger rode closer and closer, no one spoke—the only sound was that of the breeze, a falcon’s cry overhead, and the rhythm of the rider’s horse as it slowed to a trot…
And now, enjoy the first chapter of
Desert Fire
by Marcia Lynn McClure.
CHAPTER ONE
She felt something on her face. It was cool, soothing, moist. Her throat burned and constricted, and when she tried to swallow, she couldn’t.
“Ma’am?” She heard the voice, but it seemed so far away. “Ma’am?” It came again, closer this time. “Can you hear me, ma’am?” A man’s voice, deep and stern.
She attempted to speak but found it impossible. She tried to nod in response, but her head was pounding like a drum was pinned up inside it.
“Open your eyes if you can. Open ’em,” the voice insisted.
She opened her eyes just a slit and quickly clenched them shut again as searing rays of sunlight burned through her. She sensed movement, and the demanding voice came once more.
“Now…try again.”
It was a voice not to be ignored. She tried to lift her hand to shade her face, but her own body would not obey her mind’s command. She opened her eyes slightly, and when the sun didn’t blind her painfully again, she was able to open them completely. Everything was blurry for several seconds, but she could make out a dark figure bending over her.
“Can you see?” the voice asked firmly.
She blinked several times, clearing her vision slightly.
“Yes,” she mouthed, though no sound escaped her blistered lips. A hand slipped beneath her head and lifted it.
“Here—keep still, and let this stay on your tongue for a minute,” the voice said, and she felt the first cool, life-giving drops of water moisten her mouth. She couldn’t move her tongue at first, but the second time the stranger offered the water from the canteen, she was able to swallow it.
After several mouthfuls of water, she felt more alert and realized her face, arms, and shoulders felt tight and hot.
“Now…what’s your name, girl? And how’d ya end up out here?” the man asked.
She could see clearly then, and for the first time she looked up into the
face that belonged to the voice.
“I don’t know,” she answered in a forced whisper.
The man let out a sigh, tipped his hat back on his head, and looked around with an expression of both bewilderment and annoyance.
“You don’t know how you ended up lyin’ out in the middle of nowhere, with nothin’ or no one with you?” he asked, still looking around.
“No,” she whispered, feeling suddenly terrified at the realization.
The stranger stood up and pulled his hat down into place again.
“Well…I guess I’ll just haul ya on home, and we’ll think on it from there.” He walked over to a nearby tree and untied a horse. “Come on, Bill. Ma will love this,” he muttered.
The man led the horse to where she was lying, and she sat up more terrified still.
“I can’t possibly go with you, sir!” she whispered as loud as possible.
He smiled and chuckled. “Well, sweetheart, what do you plan on doin’? Feedin’ the coyotes?” He hunkered down, looking directly into her face. “Or…there are all kinds of worse things you could feed…” Then his smile turned into a frown as he looked at the ground around her. “Do you feel anything crawlin’ on you anywhere, girl?”
She thought it an odd question but answered, “No.”
He pulled her up until she was sitting straight and began running his hand over her back and through her hair. She realized that her shirtwaist was torn because she could feel his hands on the exposed skin of her shoulders. She gasped as she looked down and saw that it was also torn in front and gaped open, exposing her entire collarbone.
As the frown on his face intensified, the man quickly ran his hand over her back once more and then moved to her waist. She instinctively moved to slap him, but he caught her hand and looked angrily into her face.
“I ain’t out for a good time, sweetheart,” he growled through clenched teeth. He pushed her back down, and she wanted to weep when he lifted up her skirts and began feeling her right leg. But her state of severe dehydration prevented any tears from even developing.
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