A Ranger Redeemed (Lone Star Ranger Book 7)

by James J. Griffin

  “It seems y’all did a good job,” Quincy said. “It’s just a shame about Phil. A few of the other men also just got back. They caught up with some rustler outfits, too. We’re finally makin’ some progress in cleanin’ up these parts.

  “Listen, I was waitin’ for you three to return. In fact, if you hadn’t shown up today, I was gonna send Percy lookin’ for you. I got a message from Austin yesterday. That’s what most of the boys were talkin’ about when you rode it, tryin’ to figure out what it says. Now that you’re back, I can call a meetin’ to discuss it. Can I do that as soon as you take care of your horses, or do you need to see Jim first, and have those wounds checked?”

  “I reckon seein’ Jim can wait,” Jeb answered. “Is that all right with you and Nate, Hoot?”

  “It’s fine with me,” Hoot answered.

  “Same here,” Nate said.

  “Fine, fine. Take a half-hour to care for your mounts, then we’ll meet in front of George’s wagon,” Quincy said.

  “Yessir, Cap’n Dave,” Jeb answered. “C’mon, boys, let’s get these horses settled.” He turned Dudley toward the rope corral, with Nate and Hoot following.

  “I wonder what’s in that message?” Nate said. “Cap’n Dave sure looked worried.”

  “Yeah, he sure did,” Hoot agreed.

  “I reckon we’ll find out, soon as we rub down and grain these horses,” Jeb said. “Let’s get at it.”

  ***

  Forty minutes later, the entire company was gathered in front of the chuck wagon. Captain Quincy called them to order.

  “Men, before I start this meeting, I’m going to say a brief prayer for Phil Knight, who as you all know by now was killed, along with his beloved horse, Parker, during a fight with a band of rustlers. Phil died as a true Ranger, though—fightin’. He killed two of those renegades before they got him. So, if you will all kindly remove your hats, please.”

  The assembled Rangers took off their hats and bowed their heads.

  “Lord, You know as well as all of us here that Phil Knight wasn’t a church-goin’ man,” Quincy prayed. “However, he did believe in You. Phil wouldn’t have wanted me to give a long speech, so all I’m gonna say is, all of us here would appreciate it if You’d give him a nice green pasture and a cool stream for Parker, his horse and best friend. Amen.”

  “Amen,” the Rangers answered.

  “Now, a moment of silence for Phil,” Quincy said.

  The men stood, silently, for a moment.

  “I’m sure that’s all the service Phil would have wanted,” Quincy said, to break the silence. “Now, I realize curiosity is eatin’ every one of you up inside, wonderin’ what’s in the letter I got from Austin. I’m about to let you know its contents. I will also say it contains good news, and bad.”

  “Nothin’ from Austin ever contains good news,” Tom Tomlinson muttered. Most of the men chuckled in agreement.

  “I reckon that’s true, most of the time,” Quincy conceded. “But wait until you hear what I have to say before decidin’.

  “Men, as you know, Headquarters has been tryin’ for years to increase the size of the force,” he continued. “However, once again, the state legislature, in their vast and infinite wisdom, has turned down the request. That means, this is the bad news, we’re going to be spread even more thinly than we already are. There’s been a string of train robberies up north, in the Panhandle and Palo Pinto Mountains region. Several people have already been shot. Luckily, no one has been killed… yet. Austin has ordered me to split the company, send a contingent of men up that way to track down the thieves, and stop those train robberies before more people get hurt. Much as I hate to do that, I’ve got no choice. I was up all night tryin’ to decide how to do just that, and which men I’d send north. It wasn’t easy, but I came to a decision early this mornin’.”

  “So who’s goin’ north, Cap’n?” Larry Cannon shouted.

  “If you’ll just hold on a minute, I’ll tell you,” Quincy answered. “Since most of the men under my command have been ridin’ with me for years, and work well together, I’ve decided it’s in the company’s, and the Rangers’, best interest to keep most of the veterans together. Therefore, I’ll be sending mainly new members to north Texas. To that end, and here’s the good news, Jeb Rollins is promoted to Lieutenant, effective immediately. He will be in charge of the contingent. Under his command will be Hoot Harrison, who is promoted to Corporal, also effective immediately, along with Rangers Nate Stewart, Carl Swan, Austin and Colin Frahm, Eli Strauss, and Sean Wehner. The men I just named will ride to Abilene, where you will meet with more Rangers.”

  “Cap’n, Austin’s really doin’ that to us, after all the time we’ve ridden together?” Lieutenant Bob asked. “That just don’t seem right.”

  “Yes, Bob,” Quincy answered. “And it’s not right, but my hands are tied. As long as Jeb feels he, Hoot, and Nate are able to ride, they and the others I’ve named will leave for Abilene first thing in the morning. Are there any questions?”

  He was met with a general grumbling of anger, but no questions.

  “Good. I just want to say I’m as upset about this as the rest of you. Now, congratulations are due to Jeb and Hoot for their promotions. To the rest of you leaving with them, good luck. And just mebbe, if the politicians ever come to their senses, we’ll be back together again some time in the future. That’s all. Jeb, you, Nate, and Hoot see Jim to make certain you can ride out tomorrow morning. Once that’s done, get your supper, then after you’ve eaten, meet me in my tent. I’ll go over the specifics of your new assignment with you. That’s all. Dismissed.”

  Nate stood, stunned. Was he really having to leave the men he’d been riding with for over a year now, the company of Texas Rangers who had saved his life, then taken him in? It couldn’t be true, could it? Yet, Cap’n Dave had said it was. The captain’s words still echoed in his head.

  “Nate?” Hoot said. “Nate?” he repeated, more loudly, when he got no response. “You all right, pardner?”

  “Yeah. I guess so,” Nate answered. “It’s just that… I wasn’t expectin’ this.”

  “None of us were,” Hoot said.

  “Hoot’s right,” Jeb added. “None of us. But it’s done, and nothin’ we can do will change things. Let’s get over to your tent so Jim can check us over. Then, we’d better gather our possibles so we’ll be ready to leave at first light. C’mon.”

  “And don’t forget, you’ll still be ridin’ with me and Jeb,” Hoot said. “It’s not like you’re bein’ turned loose all on your lonesome.”

  “I guess you’re both right,” Nate said. “It’ll just take time for this to sink in, that’s all. Let’s go see Jim.”

  They headed for the tent Nate and Hoot shared with Jim and Eli. Jim was already waiting for them when they reached it.

  “Howdy, boys,” he said. “It’s too bad about Phil, but at least the rest of you managed to get back home. Which one of you should I look over first?”

  Neither Jim, nor any of the other men, intended to seem unfeeling about Phil’s death. It was just that, with the loss of a man to outlaw bullets being so much a part of the Rangers’ lives, most of the men had learned to bury their emotions.

  “Jeb,” Hoot said, without hesitation. “He got it the worst. Took two bullets in his ribs.”

  “Don’t argue with him, Jeb,” Nate added. “You’re first.”

  “Okay.” Jeb sat on Jim’s bed and peeled off his shirt.

  “I’ll get those bandages off and see how those wounds look,” Jim said.

  While Jim worked on Jeb, Nate realized he’d neglected to congratulate Hoot on his promotion. He stiffened his back and gave Hoot a snappy salute.

  “Congratulations, Corporal Harrison.”

  Hoot thumped him in the stomach.

  “Quit it,” he said. “We’re still pards, just like we have been since the day you and Jeb rode into camp.”

  “Uh-uh.” Nate shook his head and grinned. “You’
re a corporal now. Before you know it, you’ll be givin’ me orders, and forgettin’ we were ever pardners.” He saluted Hoot again. Hoot thumped him in the stomach once more, hard enough so Nate grunted, and buckled a little.

  “I said quit it, Nate, ya idjit,” he repeated. “You try’n salute me one more time, and I will start givin’ you orders. I’ll have you cleanin’ out the latrine and pickin’ up horse manure. We’re pards, and that’s that. Me bein’ a corporal don’t mean spit. Comprende?”

  “Comprende.”

  Once Jim checked their wounds, re-cleaning and re-bandaging them, they headed back to the campfire for supper. Men were gathered in small groups, still digesting the news that Captain Quincy’s company would be broken up, and they might never see some of their partners again. Supper was a somber affair. Once it was over, most of the men headed for their tents to turn in.

  Despite the unexpected news, Hoot, Jim, and Eli soon fell asleep. For Nate, however, sleep would not come. He lay on his back, staring at the tent roof, until well into the wee hours of the morning. Finally, exhausted, he drifted into a fitful slumber.

  5

  The entire company ate breakfast at sunrise the next morning, then Jeb and the men riding with him made their goodbyes, and started their trek northward. With most of the railroads in Texas having been destroyed by Union forces during the war, and not yet rebuilt, it would be faster to cover the over two hundred miles from Bandera to Abilene on horseback, rather than attempting to make connections on the patchwork rail system.

  Once they left the Hill Country, their route took them over mainly table flat grasslands, sparsely vegetated with scattered scrub brush. Cottonwoods, salt cedar, and willows marked the occasional creek.

  Two days of northwest riding found them in Junction. They spent the night there, picked up needed supplies, then headed due north. They crossed the San Saba River just outside the small settlement of Menardville, the Concho River just south of Paint Rock, and the Colorado at Ballinger.

  Five days after leaving Bandera, they reached their destination, Abilene, just after sunset.

  There had been only once incident the entire trip. While crossing the Concho, Big Red had decided, without warning, to cool off by taking a roll in the water, paying no heed to his rider’s sharp tug on the reins. Nate had barely jumped from the saddle in time to avoid being crushed under a thousand pounds of horseflesh. While Red shook himself off, Nate grabbed his reins, and scolded him fiercely.

  “Hey, Nate, it’s nowhere near Saturday,” Hoot yelled, with a laugh. “It’s not time for a bath.”

  “His horse decided Nate smelled so bad he was gettin’ one, whether he wanted it or not,” Carl answered.

  “Nate, did you forget what I told you about some horses likin’ to roll in the water, and to make certain you always kept a tight rein crossin’ a river?” Jeb asked.

  “Yeah, I reckon I did,” Nate said, from where he stood in the middle of the Concho, soaked to the skin. It was hard to tell who looked more sheepish, Nate or his horse. “But you can be certain I won’t, ever again.”

  “I’m sure you won’t,” Jeb said. “Get back on your horse so we can get movin’.”

  Now, as they rode into Abilene, Jeb said, “We’ll look up the marshal, and see if he can tell us where to find those other Rangers we’re supposed to meet up with. After that, we’ll take the horses to the livery stable, and then get ourselves a hotel room. We’ll stop by the barber shop for baths, haircuts, and shaves before we get supper. Well, except Nate, that is. He already took his bath, back in the Concho.”

  Nate muttered something under his breath that Jeb couldn’t quite catch.

  “What was that you said, Nate?” Jeb asked.

  “Nothin’, Jeb.”

  “He said you could go…” Hoot began. Nate cut him short.

  “I said it was nothin’.”

  “Never mind about that. There’s the marshal’s office, just ahead,” Jeb said. He and his men rode the half block to the office, then reined up in front.

  “Hoot, you’ll come inside with me. The rest of you, wait for us here,” Jeb ordered.

  “Right, Jeb,” Hoot answered.

  Nate sat his horse sullenly as Jeb and Hoot dismounted, tied their horses, and went inside the office. Colin noticed the scowl on his face.

  “What’s troublin’ you, Nate?” he asked.

  “Nothin’,” Nate muttered.

  “Well, you’d never know it from lookin’ at you,” Colin answered. “You look like you lost your last friend.”

  “I told you, nothin’s wrong,” Nate insisted. “I’m just a bit tuckered out from the long ride, that’s all.”

  Nate couldn’t admit what was really bothering him, Hoot’s promotion. Even though he realized Hoot deserved it—after all, he had been a Ranger for much longer than Nate—he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy. And, if he was honest with himself, there was also a bit of fear. Fear that he was about to lose his partner and best friend, the friend he’d come to depend on since being made a Ranger. He knew he shouldn’t feel that way, but there it was, sitting in his gut like a chunk of ice.

  ****

  The marshal looked up from the wanted posters he was reading when Jeb and Hoot walked in. His gaze immediately went to the badge pinned to Jeb’s shirt.

  “Evenin’, gentlemen,” he said, as he stood up. “I reckon you must be the rest of the Rangers the Fort Worth, Abilene and Denver Railroad’s waitin’ on. I’m Marshal Trey Cavendish.”

  “I reckon we would be,” Jeb answered, as he and the marshal shook hands. “I’m Lieutenant Jeb Rollins, and this here is Corporal Hoot Harrison. The rest of the men are waitin’ outside. We’re supposed to be meetin’ up with some other Rangers here. Have they arrived yet?”

  “They sure have,” Cavendish replied. “They got into town yesterday. You’ll find ’em over at the Ebony House. There’s rooms waitin’ for you there, also. The railroad’s payin’ all your expenses as long as you’re workin’ for ’em. Rooms and meals.”

  “That’ll be a welcome change from sleepin’ on the ground, and eatin’ bacon, biscuits, and beans,” Hoot said.

  “I’d imagine,” Cavendish agreed. “Look, I’d guess you want to settle your horses, then yourselves. Sully’s livery stable is down the alley at the end of the next block. He’ll take good care of your broncs. The hotel has an excellent restaurant, so I’d recommend you take your meals there. As far as saloons, there’s several to pick from, but I’d go with the Plainsman. Healy doesn’t water down the whiskey, his games are honest—at least, as honest as they are in any saloon—and he’s got the prettiest girls.”

  “That sounds like solid advice,” Jeb answered. “How about a place to clean up? We’re all needin’ shaves, haircuts, and baths.”

  “Tony’s Tonsorial Parlor is right across the street from the hotel.”

  “Bueno,” Jeb said. “We’ll get our horses stabled, then look up the other men. After that, we’ll clean up and have supper. I’d also like to meet with whoever’s in charge of the railroad’s end of this.”

  “That’d be Harry Smith. He’s the FW A & D’s detective here in Abilene. I’ll get in touch with him, and set up a meeting for first thing in the morning. Say, eight o’clock, here in my office.”

  “That’ll be just fine, Marshal,” Jeb answered. “We’re obliged. Thanks.”

  “Don’t mention it,” Cavendish answered. “If you Rangers can stop these train robberies, it’ll make life in these parts a whole lot easier. See you in the mornin’.”

  “See you then,” Jeb answered. “C’mon, Hoot.”

  They headed back to where the others were still sitting on their horses, waiting.

  “Good news, boys,” Jeb said. “The railroad’s providin’ our rooms and meals. We’ll eat good, and sleep comfortable tonight.”

  ****

  After making certain their horses were in good hands, the Rangers shouldered their saddlebags and walked the short block to t
he Ebony House Hotel. The exterior of the building was painted black, now slightly faded to a deep gray.

  “Well, now we know how the place got its name,” Eli said. They climbed the stairs and trooped inside the lobby.

  “Howdy, gents,” the desk clerk said. Like the marshal, his gaze settled on Jeb’s badge. “Welcome to the Ebony House. We’ve been expectin’ you. Your rooms are all ready, Numbers 8, 10, 12, and 14. Your friends are on the opposite side of the hallway, Numbers 11 and 13. If you’ll just sign the register I’ll give you your keys.” He reversed the registration book for Jeb to sign.

  “Are the other Rangers in?” Jeb asked.

  “No, they’re scouting along the tracks, about five miles east of town, where the last robbery took place. They’ll be back later, unless they find some sign of those outlaws.”

  “Thanks,” Jeb said. “We’ll put our stuff in our rooms, then we’re goin’ over to the barber shop to clean up. After that, we’ll have our supper. If those boys come in before we get back, tell ’em to meet us in your restaurant.”

  “I’ll make certain to do just that,” the clerk assured him, as he handed him four keys. “My name’s Ethan Dobbs. I’m at your service. If there’s anything you need, anything at all, just ask.”

  “Gracias. After the long ride we just had, peace and quiet and a soft bed are all we’re lookin’ for, Mr. Dobbs,” Jeb said. “C’mon, men, let’s find our rooms.”

  They climbed the stairs, then turned left, down a dimly lit corridor.

  “Carl, I reckon you’ll room with me,” Jeb said, as he passed out the keys. “Hoot and Nate, you’ll be together. So will you two, obviously,” he told brothers Austin and Colin. “That leaves you and Eli sharin’ the last room, Sean. Just toss your stuff in ’em, grab your spare duds, and we’ll hit the barber’s.”

  ***