Jodi Thomas

by When a Texan Gambles

  She nodded and curled next to him. With her softness along his side, Sam didn’t need his hands to know the pleasure of her.

  “Sarah.” He placed his mouth close to her ear.

  “Yes,” she mumbled.

  “I’ve a rule.”

  “All right,” she answered, as if she were too far into sleep and beyond listening.

  “You have to sleep next to me like this every night. I like knowing you’re safe. No matter what happens, promise?”

  She didn’t answer, so he shook her shoulder.

  “I promise,” she muttered, swatting at his hand as if he were no more than a bothersome fly. “Now let me sleep.”

  Sam thought about how good she felt in his arms. He could experience her nearness with the slight rise and fall of his chest, and her slow breathing brushed against his throat.

  He didn’t need her, he told himself. She was more trouble than anything. But maybe, for a short time, he could have another person in his life. He could pretend that there was a chance all the feelings inside him hadn’t died.

  They could live like regular people did and not think about the day he knew would come when he rode away. He’d disappear to keep her alive while going back to the death of feeling nothing once more.

  ELEVEN

  SARAH OPENED HER EYES. DAWN FILTERED THROUGH the branches of the cottonwood trees. Quickly she buried her head beneath the covers, hoping to push the day away and sleep another hour. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt warm and protected all night long.

  Sam’s large hand rested atop her middle as if he were claiming something he owned. She blinked away the tears. In truth, he did own her. He’d bought and paid for her before he married her. She was his just like she belonged to Granny Vee that day Harriet Rainy traded her away. Harriet hadn’t even said good-bye, she’d just shoved six-year-old Sarah toward the old woman’s wagon and yelled, “Hope the girl is of more use to you than she’s been to me. Her mother was probably no more than trash, but she unloaded the child on me and now I’m passing her on to you.”

  Granny had smiled when she’d yelled, “Climb up, girl,” but she slapped the horse before Sarah was aboard. Sarah could still remember running to catch the wagon. Running to an unknown future, knowing only that it had to be better than the past.

  Sarah rubbed her tears away on Sam’s arm she used as a pillow. She was still running to catch a future, still hoping it would be better than the past. “I’ll work hard,” she whispered. “I’ll make it better this time.” She felt like a hand-me-down that had been passed along from one person to another all her life.

  Glancing over at Sam, she was thankful he still slept. She hadn’t meant to say the words out loud. He would find out soon enough that she talked to herself. The habit had always bothered Harriet, but Granny Vee found it funny. Mitchell, if he noticed, had never commented on the habit. He rarely talked to anyone much less himself. The week he had lost the farm, he’d simply told her to pack. Sarah had been in the wagon before he bothered to mention that they were going west.

  The children moved around near the fire, pulling her back to the present. Sarah knew if she didn’t get up fast, they would help themselves to whatever they could find for breakfast. She stretched and kissed Sam’s whiskery cheek. “Good morning, husband.” Forcing herself to be bright, she added, “I’m going to like you this day whether you deserve it or not.”

  She figured if she kept saying it, maybe one day she truly would. He might not have claimed the kids, but he had slept beside her without touching her, except for the few times he did so by accident. His good traits and bad ones were starting to even out. That was a beginning.

  Staring at his sleeping face, she decided he wasn’t a bad-looking man. If anything he looked cold, like he’d never had a reason to smile. Sarah grinned, remembering how she’d felt him laugh last night. It had been too dark to see his face and she remembered no sound, but something she’d said had made laughter rumble around in his chest.

  In his sleep he looked younger. At first she’d thought him over thirty, but now she wasn’t so sure. Without pain in his dark eyes or wrinkles across his forehead, he looked like a man midway through his twenties. How could a man become legend if he were truly so young?

  She readied the pot of coffee and put it on the low fire. Stacking two cups close by, she then turned to pull bacon from the stash of food she’d stored in boxes in the wagon bed. She only unpacked what they needed, for she guessed Sam would want to leave as soon as they finished breakfast.

  “Someone’s coming!” K.C. yelled. “I hear splashing.” All three children grabbed what they could carry and ran for the trees.

  Sam sat up. He showed no sign of having been asleep as he reached for his rifle and stood. The cold gunman was back, she thought. No sign remained of the man who’d held her so gently in the shadows before dawn.

  Sarah strained to hear something, but the morning fell silent except for the constant rush of river and the rustling of leaves.

  “Go with the kids,” Sam ordered as he circled the camp.

  “But ... ?”

  He didn’t wait for her to argue. With movements swift and deliberate, he pulled her to the base of one of the trees and swung her up to the hiding place they’d found earlier, as if she weighed no more than a pitchfork full of hay. The children climbed up the vine wrapping around the tree like it was a well-made ladder.

  “Got enough room up there?” Sam tried to whisper, but anyone in the clearing could have heard him.

  “Plenty,” Sarah answered. “Are you coming up?”

  “No, I’ll greet our guest.” Sam shoved two boxes of supplies up to Sarah. “No matter what, stay still and keep silent,” he said. “The apples are in one of those boxes, in case it takes a while to talk our company into leaving.”

  Glancing at the children, Sam glared at them, silently warning them to also remain quiet. He returned a moment later with the rifle from the wagon and her shawl. “If our caller isn’t friendly, can you back me up with this thing?”

  Sarah stared at the rifle. “No,” she answered honestly.

  “Then you’d best stay hidden no matter what happens.”

  She lay down with the children so that anyone looking up toward the colorful leaves would see only branches. She raised her head just enough to watch Sam moving about the campfire, picking up blankets and tossing them into the wagon. He dragged the buffalo robe through the sand. For a moment she couldn’t figure out what he was doing, then she knew. He removed all traces of any footprints besides his own.

  As the splashing grew louder, she watched Sam throw the saddle from the buckboard over the horse he’d brought from town.

  A rider rounded the bend and came into sight just as Sam pulled the cinch tight.

  Sarah fought down a scream as she saw the newcomer pull his rifle from its sheath with lightning speed. He charged the clearing like a warrior.

  Sam raised his arms to the back of the powerful black stallion and rested them against the saddle as if he saw no trouble riding toward him. He hadn’t bothered to strap on his gun belt, but let it hang over the saddle horn as though it were no more than decoration.

  The stranger pulled in his mount as he reached land, but did not lower his gun.

  “Gatlin!” the man shouted. “Stand down!”

  “I’m not armed, Dalton,” Sam answered casually. “Come on in. I got a campfire burning and you’re welcome.”

  The stranger rode up, his mount splashing water across the dry sand of the clearing. He was a big man, not quite as tall as Sam, but thicker. And several years younger, she guessed. A circled silver star sparkled on his chest.

  Slowly, after looking around, the Texas Ranger lowered his Colt and climbed from his horse. “You alone?” he asked as his gaze swept the area.

  “I am.” Sam sat on a box near the coffeepot, doing his best to act as if nothing were wrong with his leg.

  The caller didn’t seem all that friendly as
he stomped toward Sam. “Then how come you got two cups setting out by the fire, Gatlin?”

  Sam didn’t seem to be that interested in even talking to the man. “I heard you coming half an hour ago. I figured if you were wading through that cold water, you’d be wanting something hot. Of course, if you’re not interested, I can put the other cup away.”

  The Ranger conceded, but didn’t let his guard completely down as he neared. He had an easy air about him that made Sarah think he probably feared little. Like Sam, his clothes were dusty, but well made. They were not the clothes of a farmer.

  The man squatted by the fire and waited while Sam passed him a cup of coffee.

  Both men sipped the steaming liquid in silence.

  Finally Sam had enough of the game. “Well, Jacob, you going to tell me why you’re here, or have the Rangers simply run out of anything to do and started riding along river beds?”

  The younger man ignored Sam’s question. “Heard you got married the other night in Cedar Point.”

  “Maybe.” Sam crossed his ankles in front of him as if he were doing nothing more than passing time.

  “They say you married a beauty of a woman. Said she looked like an angel. They even claim she might be too frail to make it out here in this rough country. Your life’s not exactly easy being on the road all the time.”

  “They sure do a lot of talking,” Sam commented as though he had no personal interest in what the Ranger said.

  Jacob studied the clearing. “You have any idea where this wife of yours might be? Sheriff Riley would like to have a few words with her.”

  “I might,” Sam answered. “What business is she of yours or the sheriff’s? I paid her fine. She’s free and clear.” For the first time since the man arrived, Sam looked as if he might care why Jacob Dalton had taken the trouble to look him up.

  The Ranger stood and faced Sam. “I’ve been trailing you for two days. Is she safe? Is she still alive? The storekeeper who calls himself Mr. Moon said you had a woman with you yesterday when you left town, but he didn’t give out any information about you without a good bit of encouraging.”

  “Of course she’s alive!” Sam shouted. “What do you think; I bought her out of jail so I could kill her and cut her up for jerky?”

  Jacob looked as if he was considering the point. “I’ve heard some tales about you, Gatlin.”

  “You live another five years, Ranger, and I’ll hear some tales about you as well.” Sam smiled. “But thank you for your concern about my bride.” His words left no doubt that he didn’t appreciate the interest. “She is pretty as an angel. She’s also mine. Which makes her none of your business.”

  The Ranger backed down ever so slightly. “Look, Gatlin, I don’t believe most of what I hear in these parts about you or any other man, but I do need to talk to your wife.”

  “Tell Sheriff Riley he doesn’t need to be checking up on me. My wife is fine.”

  “It’s not that.” Jacob took a deep breath as if making a decision. “I’ve been chasing a worthless old buffalo hunter by the name of Zeb Whitaker over half the state. It appears your wife and two other women ran into him before me, and they all confessed to killing the man.” The Ranger laughed. “Which would have done me a favor if it were true.”

  Sam folded his arms over his chest and waited for the man to finish.

  Jacob poured himself more coffee. “A few days before your wife killed him, he ambushed a rancher who supposedly carried a saddlebag full of gold coin.”

  “She doesn’t have any coins,” Sam answered.

  “I figured that or she would have bought herself out of jail instead of getting bridled to the likes of you.” Jacob grinned up at Sam. “I also figure you didn’t make this coffee.”

  Sam growled. Jacob’s laughter sounded nervous.

  “I’m not here to cause her any harm, but to warn her. The day after you married her, we started hearing rumors that Zeb was still alive and looking for the three women who tried to kill him. Seems he believes they have his money. The sheriff warned the other two, but he asked me to track you down.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying Zeb Whitaker is coming after your woman, and if he doesn’t get the right answer, he’ll kill her. Word is he’s got half a dozen men riding with him. He’s promised them a cut of the gold and a turn at any one of the three women he finds.”

  “Over my dead body,” Sam swore.

  Jacob shrugged. “From what I hear you’ve been trying to make that a possibility. Picking up lead like it was on sale.” He looked directly at Sam. “I didn’t know how badly you were hurt. I needed to reach you and tell you I’m willing to help.”

  “I don’t need any help. I’ll take care of her.”

  The Ranger leaned close and added, “Zeb Whitaker is coming after your wife. You and I both know, if he makes it through you, she won’t have a chance even if she’s a crack shot. Much as you hate the idea, you need me to back you up this time, Sam.”

  “I don’t even like you, Jacob Dalton,” Sam admitted. “You are nothing but a snot-nosed kid who’s been lucky enough to stay alive for a few years as a Ranger. Which is better than most, but it doesn’t make you invincible. You’re only interested in my wife because you see her as bait to catch Zeb Whitaker.”

  “Maybe,” Jacob agreed. “But you’ll take my help because you’re not willing to risk her life on it. We’re not dealing with some gunslinger or bank robber. Zeb’s survived a long time out here in this wild country. He’s tough as rawhide and smarter than most. I’d be willing to bet that the six or so men with him are cut from the same cloth.”

  “You think you’re up to three-to-one odds?”

  Jacob smiled. “Sounds about fair to me. When the shooting starts, you take the three on the left, I’ll take care of the ones on the right.”

  Sam nodded as if the Ranger had a plan.

  Jacob settled in. “Now, all we need is a safe place to take her for a while. If Zeb thinks he can’t get to your wife, he’ll go after one of the other women. Riley and his deputy can worry about them.”

  “I’ve got a safe place.”

  “Here?” Jacob laughed. “Half the men who walk into Denver’s bar know about this place. The only reason you weren’t followed here is because it’s so hard to get to. The multitudes who want to kill you are probably just waiting it out in town knowing you’ll have to come in for supplies sooner or later.”

  “While you were getting all the answers, Ranger, what did you find out about the man who stabbed me, then brought his gang in to use me for target practice?”

  “Levi Reed?” Jacob guessed. “He left town thinking you were dead, but it won’t be long until someone tells him the truth. Rumor is he headed for the Fort Worth-Dallas area. As for his gang, I think they are all kin, so you can bet they’re still together. Like a nest of rattlers, they claim the rocky land north of town. The body they left behind in your hotel room turned out to be Levi’s youngest brother. He was mean, but more a pest than an outlaw.”

  “I’d seen the younger Reed’s picture on a few posters. There wasn’t enough money on him to make him worth my time to hunt, but since he was dead, I figured I might as well claim the reward.” Sam laughed. “Just between you and me, I think he was shot by one of Levi’s men when he turned and started to run. I wouldn’t waste a bullet on him.”

  The Ranger grinned. “You didn’t shoot him?”

  Sam shook his head. “But I’m sure I’ll get the credit.”

  Jacob poked at the fire. “Levi probably wants you dead more than Zeb Whitaker wants your wife. It might not be too healthy hanging around you two. I don’t need to go out looking for the bad guys, I can just travel with you newlyweds. If I were guessing, I’d say there are likely twenty more such as Reed across the state. Men you tried to claim the bounty on or outlaws who know you put one of their relatives in the ground.”

  Sam saw no point in arguing with the truth.

  Jacob finally looked
straight at Sam. “So why don’t you tell your bride to step out from wherever she’s hiding. She might as well meet one of the few people in this state who are not trying to make her a widow.”

  TWELVE

  SAM WATCHED ADMIRATION PARADE ACROSS THE Ranger’s face as he shook hands with Sarah. Gatlin didn’t know whether to be angry or proud. Jacob Dalton was closer to Sarah’s age and Sam had heard more than one saloon girl refer to the young Ranger as handsome. But Jacob acted the fool, complimenting Sarah on the day, as if she had something to do with it, and waiting until she sat down on a box before he took the other seat, as if they were at some fine restaurant.

  Groaning, Sam decided Jacob smiled way too much for a proper lawman.

  He didn’t know what to make of the man he once thought of as being able to handle himself. If Dalton grinned that way around an outlaw, he’d have those pearly whites knocked down his throat in no time. If fact, if Jacob didn’t stop smiling soon, Sam might be tempted to perform the service.

  Fighting the urge to grab Sarah and pull her behind him, Sam stood like a statue while they talked. Sarah was full of questions about the other two women who had been in jail with her. Were they safe? Did Jacob know who they married? Were they happy?

  The Ranger finally stopped her questions and told her about Zeb Whitaker.

  To Sam’s surprise, Sarah moved away from Dalton as the Ranger talked and inched closer to him, resting her hand on his arm just above where she’d bandaged it the day before. Sam covered her fingers with his hand and felt her tremble. He knew she needed to be warned about Whitaker and the danger she faced, but he didn’t like the idea of her being frightened.

  Sam growled; he didn’t like much of anything happening this morning. If he had his way, he’d just as soon go back to bed and forget the Ranger ever rode up. And he knew that if he ever ran into Zeb Whitaker, he would make sure his killing lasted a bit longer.

  Jacob finally stopped talking and walked close to the fire to pour himself more coffee.

  Sarah looked up at Sam with those blue eyes he couldn’t get enough of. “Whitaker aims to kill me?” she whispered.