The Ranger Takes a Bride

by Misty M. Beller

"Sí. I understand." Emmaline's brown braids bobbed along with her chin. The child reached for the second bundle, but Alejandra jerked it from her reach and held it out to Edward. "We'll let your uncle carry them, just in case." She tweaked Emmy's nose.

  The girl responded by wrinkling it, and Alejandra couldn't help but chuckle. She was so fun to tease.

  "You might need to ride along with us to make sure she shares." Edward's deep voice brought Alejandra's head up.

  "Yes, Alejandra. Please?" Emmaline grabbed Alejandra's arm and bounced up and down. "You've never been riding with us. You'll love it. I know you will. I'll show you Papa's cows, and he said there's a new baby one. You have to come. Please?"

  Alejandra leaned away from Emmaline's exuberance, trying to gather her thoughts. Go on a ride with Edward and Emmaline? It was a beautiful day out, especially for mid-February. And she hadn't been on a horse since that crazed ride to find Jacob and send for the doctor. But did she dare ride out with Edward again? They would have Emmaline with them this time. The child could be a sort of buffer. She chattered so much when she was excited, Alejandra would never have to speak a word. Just enjoy the ride.

  She released a breath. "Sí. I will go."

  Alejandra barely had time to prepare herself before Emmaline threw her little body into Alejandra's arms. "Oh, I'm so glad! It's going to be perfect. You'll see."

  ~ ~ ~

  Juan met them in the yard leading Pepper, Edward's horse.

  "Would you mind saddling the Palomino mare for Alejandra to ride?" Edward asked as he took the reins from the older man.

  "Un momento." Alejandra stepped forward. She avoided Edward's gaze as she spoke in a quiet voice to Juan. "I don't need a saddle. Just bridle, please, Señor."

  He hesitated, so she sent him a pleading smile. Feet shuffling in the dirt, he cut a glance at Edward.

  "You heard the lady." Edward clapped the man lightly on the back.

  Juan's shoulders relaxed, and he bobbed his head. "Sí. I'll be right back."

  While they waited, Emmaline stroked Pepper's face and kept up a steady monologue to the animal. "I'm going to ride on you with Uncle Edward. I can't ride you by myself yet, but you're my favoritest horse ever. We're going to see the cows, and share cookies with the cowboys. You're going to love it."

  Juan appeared soon with the Palomino, and Alejandra took the reins. She motioned for him to help Edward and Emmaline first. It would be much easier to mount by herself, but it wasn't very lady-like. Best done while the others were distracted.

  When Emmaline was settled on the gelding's back behind Edward, he secured her grip around his waist, then looked over at Alejandra. His eyes widened as he took in her position atop the mare. Then a corner of his mouth pulled, creating that dimple that always made her stomach flip. This time was no exception. She looked away so the butterflies would stop. Why did she let this man affect her so?

  "Goodbye, Mister Juan." Emmaline waved and sent a beaming smile over her shoulder as they guided the horses from the ranch yard.

  On the trail, they kept to a steady walk, covering terrain Alejandra had never seen. As expected, Emmaline carried the weight of the conversation, chattering about the puppy, her baby brother, the flowers she'd picked along this trail last year, and anything else that popped into her mind.

  That left Alejandra to savor the fresh air, the warmth of the horse beneath her, and the freedom of the open land. Most of the area they traveled was gently sloping hills, with thick tufts of grass scattered across rocky soil. Occasionally, they passed patches of trees, with green pines interspersed amongst the dull brown of leafless branches.

  Edward pointed to a section of forest. "There's a patch of Dogwoods in there. The prettiest pink and white flowers you've ever seen."

  She eyed him. "Dogwoods?"

  "It's a small, round tree. Doesn't have a purpose that I know of, except to look pretty. It does that job well, though." He sent her a cock-eyed grin, his dimple flashing again, and once again her stomach flipped.

  Soon, they rode up on the herd. Jacob came to meet them, a wide smile spreading his face.

  "Papa!" Emmaline bounced behind Edward.

  He settled a hand on her leg. "Easy there, cowgirl. Don't scare Pepper."

  "You came at just the right time, Emmy-girl." Jacob rode next to Edward's horse and scooped his daughter off the back, settling her in the saddle in front of him. "Another calf came last night, and it's ready to meet you."

  Emmaline beamed. "Can I see it now? We brought you cookies, too. Alejandra came to make sure I share."

  Jacob glanced up at Alejandra with a chuckle. "It's a good thing. Come on, little bit. Monty has something to show you first."

  Alejandra watched the pair ride away. It was amazing how Jacob's face lit when he spoke to his daughter. She obviously held his heart.

  A lump formed in her throat. Would she ever have a child of her own to love?

  "Special, isn't it?" Edward's rich voice rumbled from behind her, washing through her like a warm blanket on a cool night.

  The lump wouldn't let her speak, so she nodded. A stinging burned her eyes, but she blinked it back. No need to get sentimental about something she couldn't control right now. Squaring her shoulders, Alejandra scanned the vast herd in front of them. There had to be more than a thousand cattle in this pasture alone. Their long horns extended so far, they looked almost too heavy for the animals' gangly bodies. Although these cattle seemed a little more filled out than those at Rancho Las Cuevas.

  "Shall we ride over and see the new calves?" Edward eased his horse up beside hers.

  "Sí." Alejandra guided her horse into step behind his gelding as they worked their way around the edge of the herd.

  "In the early days after I started riding with the cowpunchers, Monty saved my hide from a wild cow right over there." He pointed toward a stand of forest a stone's throw from them. Underbrush grew thick between the tree trunks, giving it a dark, ominous appearance.

  "A wild cow?" She turned a raised brow on him.

  One side of his mouth pulled. "Well, she wasn't wild by nature. She was one of the ranch stock, but she'd caught her horns in some vines and been fighting against them for hours. When I rode up on her, she was mad enough to spit in the devil's face. She raised such a fuss, her horns finally came loose. She decided to take her displeasure out on me and my horse, but the fool mare wouldn't stay around for it. Left me in the dust, and that's where I'd still be if Monty hadn't come along with some fancy roping."

  A light danced in Edward's brown eyes as he finished the story. He was so handsome, especially when his smile reached his eyes. And those dimples. Muy guapo.

  In moments like this, it was hard to remember why she didn't like him.

  ~ ~ ~

  "The filthy blackguard should be holed up just over this cliff."

  Edward's muscles tightened at the growled words from the fellow Ranger riding behind him. This was it. They'd already nabbed the man's two accomplices who'd helped him pull off the five bank robberies. And now this was the end of the line for ol' Blackie.

  Leaning forward in the saddle, Edward did his best to assist his horse as they climbed a steep, rocky embankment. Pepper was usually sure-footed, but this hill would be a challenge for any mount. Near the top, he eased back on the reins and slid off his gelding. "Stay here, boy." He kept his tone low as he tied the animal to a short pine tree.

  Extracting his Winchester from the sheath on his saddle, Edward crept the remaining distance to the top of the ridge. Townsend stayed close behind him as they sidled to a boulder that would offer some cover. They had to get the drop on this guy.

  Edward scanned the valley below. A small cabin nestled in a dusty yard where a few tiny dots wandered around. Probably chickens pecking at insects or other vermin. A horse and cow grazed a distance away from the building. There wasn't a fence to contain the animals. Were they hobbled? It was too hard to tell from this distance.

  The cabin door opened, and Edward's
muscles tightened down his back and shoulders. But instead of a man with bushy black hair and pale white skin, a little girl stepped out. She couldn't be more than five or six. Emmaline's age. His stomach clenched. Did Blackie have a daughter?

  As he watched, the girl stopped to pet a cat that appeared from around the side of the cabin. Then she proceeded toward the edge of the yard where the tree line began. Was there a creek inside the woods where she fetched water? That seemed to be the case, because she reappeared moments later, her body tilting to one side under the weight of the full bucket.

  After the child disappeared back inside the cabin, all fell silent in the clearing below. Minutes dragged on, but Edward and Townsend stayed motionless behind the rock. They had to get a better idea where Blackie was before they could put a plan together. The presence of the horse grazing in the distance seemed to indicate he was here. Unless he kept more than one horse. But the sorry condition of the meager dwelling made that seem unlikely. Of course, the man did have plenty of loot from his share of the bank robberies.

  The door below opened again, and this time a woman appeared on the stoop. Her black hair glistened in the afternoon sun, and her tanned skin almost blended with the brown of her work dress. She carried something in her apron, and stopped at a stump about twenty feet from the cabin. Emptying her apron onto the stump's top surface, her hands moved back and forth over the items. But from this distance, it was impossible to see the details.

  After a good five minutes of watching the woman work with her project, Edward turned to his partner and spoke in a whisper. "Maybe I should go down and talk to her. Say I'm passin' through and ask for a bite to eat. That might flesh out Blackie if he's inside, and you can cover from up here."

  Townsend's grizzled face scrunched as he looked back at the scene below. Edward did the same, and waited a long minute before Townsend responded. The older man was a seasoned Ranger, with good instincts. And sometimes instincts took time to interpret.

  "Might not be a bad plan. If we play it right. Could be better than waitin' up here all night." Another pause. "But I should be the one to go down. You're a better shot from this distance." His eyes crinkled a bit at the edges as he met Edward's gaze.

  Edward glanced again at the scene below. He probably was the better sharpshooter. But could he send Townsend down into a possible trap? The woman working peacefully next to the stump didn't feel like an ambush. He sighed. "All right."

  As his partner wove his horse down the hill, Edward kept his gun pointed toward the cabin. There was so much ground to cover down there. He scanned the area with both eyes. Townsend disappeared behind a copse of trees for a couple minutes at the bottom of the hill, and Edward's muscles drew up tighter, listening for any sound that might mean danger. Then the man reappeared at the edge of the yard.

  The woman straightened from her work and turned to face him. The pitch of Townsend's voice drifted up to Edward, but the words were indefinable.

  Suddenly, a blast rent the air. As if in slow motion, the Ranger pitched forward, then rolled to the ground. Edward frantically scanned the house, the yard, the tree line. Who fired the shot?

  Then a movement through the trees grabbed his attention. A head of black hair darted between the leafless branches. Edward aimed his sights…and fired.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Between the branches below, Edward glimpsed the black-haired man's hands rise to his chest. Then he dropped to the ground.

  Edward scanned the woods again. The yard. The cabin. Were there any others lying in ambush? No movements, aside from the slamming of the cabin door as the woman disappeared inside.

  Was it safe to go down? Probably not, but he had to get to Townsend. The man writhed on the ground, clutching his shoulder. He may not last long without care. Edward needed to be down there.

  He held his Winchester at the ready as he wound his way down the hill. Nearing the site where Blackie had fallen, Edward slowed. No movement appeared through the trees. He crept toward the body, lying face down among the decaying leaves. No movement there either. With a boot, he rolled the man over. A wide-eyed, glassy gaze stared up at him from a pale face. The man's thick black curls spoke of his Italian ancestry, while the almost white skin was said to have come from the Swedish relatives on his mother's side. Edward leaned down to touch the robber's neck. No blood thumped through his veins.

  Straightening, he stared at the man, swallowing past the lump in his throat. No matter how many innocent people the skunk had threatened at gunpoint, he'd still had a mother and father who'd likely loved him.

  A faint groan broke through the woods. Edward spun and crept toward the sound. As he pushed the branches aside and peered into the open yard, Edward's focus fell on Townsend, still lying prone on the ground. The dark-haired woman kneeled over him, pressing a cloth to his shoulder. Townsend groaned again and Edward stepped into the clearing, his rifle aimed toward the woman.

  "Get back," he growled. He'd never had to point his gun at a woman before, but a fellow Ranger's life might be at stake.

  Her dark eyes stared at him without fear, and she didn't move from her position by Townsend's shoulder. "He is much bleeding." She spoke with a heavy Spanish accent, but her words were understandable.

  Edward sidled in a wide arc around them both, easing closer so he could see his friend. She lifted the cloth and peered at the exposed flesh of the man's shoulder. Somewhere along the way, his shirt had been opened to reveal the wound, likely at the hands of this woman.

  "The bullet went in the back and came out here." She dabbed the blood that seeped out, so Edward could see the penny-size hole in the man's shoulder. Her explanation made sense.

  She leaned back and rose to her feet, and Edward refocused the rifle's aim on her. The woman didn't acknowledge the gun, but instead, turned toward the house. "I will get whiskey to clean the wound." The words drifted over her shoulder as she marched to the cabin.

  She had nerve, he'd give the woman that. How many rifles had been pointed at her in the past? He lowered his Winchester. But she'd been staying in Blackie's cabin. He couldn't afford to trust her yet, or he might end up like Townsend. On the ground with a bullet through his back.

  Townsend groaned again. Edward stepped next to the man and crouched, but kept his gaze and rifle pointed toward the cabin. "You gonna make it?"

  The Ranger gripped his wounded shoulder. "Hurts like fire."

  "We'll get you bandaged, then head out of here to a doctor." Edward rested the gun across his legs, then quickly stripped first his jacket, then his shirt. It was the closest thing to a bandage he had.

  Before he could get his coat back on, the cabin door opened, and the woman reappeared. She carried a clay jug in one hand and a stack of cloths in the other. He grabbed the rifle, scrambled to his feet, and stepped back. Wind whipped over his bare skin, leaving bumps across his flesh. He fought back a shiver.

  The woman approached and dropped to her knees beside Townsend. "Put your shirt back on, Señor Ranger. I have cloths for bandage." She spoke without looking at him, but the disdain in her voice was clear. It made him want to duck his head, like a school boy who'd received a dressing down from his teacher. He squared his shoulders. He was a Texas Ranger, and didn't bow in shame to anyone in the state. But even as the thought stiffened his spine, he had the rifle in a grip between his knees and fumbled for the sleeves of his shirt.

  "He has lost blood." The woman spoke as she peered under the bloody cloth over Townsend's wound. Then she uncorked the jug and slipped an arm under the man's head. "Drink. This will help with the pain."

  The liquid seemed to do the trick, because Townsend gulped several times before pulling away. Setting the jug aside, the woman turned her wide dark eyes on Edward. "I will need your help to hold him while I clean the shoulder."

  Edward hesitated. She seemed to be doing what was needed to help the man, but could he trust her enough to set the gun aside? Was she trying to disarm him for an attack? But surely he could over
power this small Mexican woman.

  "I do not fight you, señor." Her words jerked his attention back to her face. "My husband was not a good man. He is dead now. I wish only to live peacefully here with mi hija." She spread her hand to take in the small cabin and the field where the animals grazed. "I will care for the wound. And then you and your amigo will go away. Sí?"

  Her words seemed earnest. And even though her dark eyes were shadowed, there was a touch of pleading in them. This poor señora. How much had she been through with a good for nothing husband like Blackie?

  Crouching on the other side of Townsend's body, he placed the rifle just behind his hip. "What should I do?"

  "Hold his arms. This will burn, but will be better if he doesn't move."

  Edward did as he was told, while the woman poured whiskey in the open wound. Townsend fought against Edward's hands on his shoulders, moaning as bloody bubbles oozed from the opening. The acrid odor of alcohol and blood scented the air. Edward gritted his teeth against the sight and the sounds. A burn rose from his stomach, but he swallowed it down.

  The woman pressed a cloth against the wound and glanced up at Edward. "I need to do the same in the back."

  Nodding, he rolled Townsend onto his stomach. The shirt stuck to his back in a viscous ring of crimson. The burn rose higher in Edward's throat, but he clamped his mouth against it.

  The señora peeled the cloth back as she poured whiskey into the opening left by the bullet. This one was larger, closer to a half-dollar size. Townsend fought against the pain of the rancid liquid, but his efforts weren't as strong this time. His face had blanched almost white. God, don't let me lose him.

  Within a few more seconds, the woman had clean cloths pressed in the wound, and a longer bandage positioned over Townsend's shoulder. They rolled him to his back again, and she tied the man's injured arm in a sling.

  Edward pressed two fingers against his partner's neck, below his jaw. A steady beat thrummed there. Maybe they'd be able to leave today after all. He raised his gaze to the man's face and found him watching every movement.