To Catch a Texas Star (Texas Heroes)

by Linda Broday

  “We sure can. Beau, come with me,” Marley said. The boy walked by her side toward the house.

  Judd moved closer and swung into step with Roan. “The kid’s scared half out of his mind. He almost wet his pants when I discovered him. Can’t be more than ten or twelve. What’s wrong with these people, using kids to do their dirty work?”

  “Damned if I know. Maybe Beau will tell us.” One thing for sure, the kid was not going back to whoever ran the operation. If he didn’t have anyone, he could stay with them until they could find him a good home. He was sure Duel and Jessie wouldn’t mind one more. After all, they already ran an orphanage.

  “What do you want to do with Coburn?” Judd asked.

  “Tell the men to carry him into the barn for now until Boss gets back. Duel can decide what to do with him.”

  “The short hairs on my neck are jerking, giving me a bad feeling,” Judd said low so Marley and the boy couldn’t hear. “Gentry and the others are going to be back. Bet you anything they’re sitting out there right now, making plans and gathering a force who’ll fight.”

  “My gut tells me the same thing. They’re going to take advantage of McClain being gone.” Roan sure hoped he was wrong, but everything told him he was right.

  “That’s another thing. What’s happened to the boss and the others? Have they slaughtered them? I heard Gentry yell that McClain is dead, but I don’t believe it.”

  Memories of Roan’s short time in Piebald told him Judd Hanson had good reason to worry.

  “Who knows if he was telling the truth or not. We have to work on the assumption that we’re in this alone, or we’ll never make it.” Roan pinched the bridge of his nose. “We should block the entrance to the compound. Make it harder for them to just ride in.”

  “Me and the boys will roll some wagons in front of the gate. Barrels too. Whatever we can find.”

  Roan glanced toward the house, torn between finding out all he could and making the ranch harder to penetrate. “I should help.”

  “No. We’ll handle this. Go see what the boy can tell you. He might know something. And while you’re in there, get Miss Marley to look at that wound. We’d better work fast. I smell rain in the air.”

  For the first time since the knife fight, Roan glanced at his arm, where the bullet had grazed him earlier. The wound wasn’t too bad. “Best have the rain slickers ready.” Roan laid a hand on Judd’s shoulder. “Thanks for being here. I can’t think of anyone I’d rather have at my side than you and Hardy.”

  “Same here.” And with that, Judd turned to talk to the men.

  Seconds later, Roan strolled into the McClain kitchen. Air coming through the broken windows stole the heat. Seated at the table, Beau stared at him with hopeless eyes. Jessie urgently called from the next room for Marley to come help with one of the triplets. Marley excused herself saying she’d be right back. Roan went to the medicine cabinet and reached for a white cloth. Holding it to his sleeve, he swung around to see the kid watching him.

  “Does it hurt, mister?”

  “Naw, not much.” Roan moved to the table and sat down.

  Marley bustled back into the room and dished up some fried potatoes and ham that they had been keeping warm for Duel and poured him a glass of cold milk. The instant she set the food in front of Beau, he bowed his head in silence for a moment, then dug in.

  Someone had clearly taught Beau Marsh to be grateful for what he got.

  The kid had finished half his plate of food when Judd entered. “I did that”—he glanced at Beau and lowered his voice—“chore we spoke about, and the men have moved some of the wagons into place.” He glanced at Marley. “If I can have a cup of coffee, I’ll go back out to keep watch. Gentry might sneak back. The men are alert though.”

  Marley jumped up. “I’ll have to make some. I should’ve done that already.”

  “You had a thing—or three—on your mind. Besides, you’re not the keeper of the coffee,” Judd scolded.

  “Glad you’re keeping watch. Pays a man to be careful.” Roan’s gaze swept to Marley’s trim figure as she refilled the coffeepot, and he lowered his voice. “Gentry’s not going away until he gets what he came for.”

  “My thinking too.”

  “I heard that. You don’t have to tiptoe around me.” Worry filled Marley’s eyes, but she kept her thoughts to herself. “Judd, I’ll bring out coffee for all of you as soon as it’s ready. Won’t be long.”

  “Good deal, Miss Marley. The men will be happy about that. Just make sure it’s good and strong. We have to stay awake.” Judd pulled up the collar of his coat around his neck and went out the door into the night.

  Roan wished he knew what was keeping Duel and the sheriff. They must’ve run into trouble or they’d have been back already. Marley sat at the table while the coffee boiled, the kitchen falling into an uneasy silence. Jessie had corralled the kids and Granny Jack in another part of the house to give them some quiet.

  When Beau had emptied his plate and drank the last of his milk, Roan rested his elbows on the table. “I’d like to ask you some questions. Is that all right, Beau?” At the boy’s nod, Roan continued. “Where is your home? Your parents?”

  “Mama died and Papa’s in prison.” Beau’s chin quivered with the struggle to hold back tears. “I didn’t wanna ride with them. I don’t wanna kill anybody.”

  “Honey, we know that, and we’re not mad.” Marley rubbed his shoulder. “But we’re wondering who’s taking care of you.”

  Beau sniffled. “Rube.”

  The name sped through Roan like buckshot. Everywhere he turned, he heard the name but still had no face to go with it. “Can you tell me who Rube is?”

  “Ruby. She said she’s my mama now. She gives me a place to sleep and food, but there’s so many of us we don’t get much to eat.”

  A woman? He was fighting a woman?

  A hard knot formed in Roan’s stomach. He hadn’t considered the idea that Rube would be anything but a man.

  Ruby. Of course. Now it made sense. Foreboding filled him. He’d never fought a woman before. His mother had protected him. A kind woman had raised him. A nun had given him a place to live. Marley Rose had rescued him.

  Women had always represented all that was good and decent. They’d shielded him and given him time to grow up. But Ruby didn’t fit in there. This woman must be driven by greed, grabbing all the land she could, slaughtering innocent people. She’d taken Mose’s acreage and that of who knew how many others. And she was determined to win at all costs—no matter whom she had to kill.

  He stilled. The long, satin thread in Mose’s barn. The boy who’d been shot dead when Roan and Duel had gone to bury his dear friend. Death and destruction lay in Ruby’s wake. She had to have been behind Mose’s death, and probably Roan’s dragging and beating. It wasn’t a far stretch. Evidently, Gentry and Wes Douglas worked for her, probably rustled Duel’s cattle too.

  But who was she?

  “Do you know her last name?” Roan asked.

  Beau wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “Nope.”

  “What does Ruby look like? How old is she?”

  The boy glanced at Marley, then back to Roan. “I dunno. Maybe taller than her. Older than her.”

  “Thank you, Beau.” The kid hadn’t been very helpful. Roan’s hopes fell.

  Outside, thunder rumbled, and jagged lightning flashed through the window as rain pelted the tin roof. Damn! Could things not get any worse? The storm would make guarding the women and children even more difficult.

  Marley stood and yanked a slicker from a hook on the wall. “I need to take the coffee out to the men before this storm gets too bad.”

  “Stay put and I’ll do it, darlin’.” Roan strode to her side.

  She met his gaze. “No, I want to check the windows in my house. I think I left the one in the bedroom cracked.
Let me tell Mama first.”

  “Stubborn woman. I’m going with you.” Roan got to his feet and grabbed another slicker hanging by the door. “Beau, stay here. We’ll be right back.”

  But when he turned around, the kid had laid his head down on his arms and was sound asleep. Poor thing. Why couldn’t Ruby let little boys grow up before she taught them to kill? Anger sped through Roan. Ruby had stolen Beau’s innocence as well as that of the others who rode for her. Damned if he could figure out why.

  Marley returned with Jessie, who took one look at the boy and melted. Jessie gave him a gentle nudge. “Let’s get you to bed, honey. You’re exhausted.”

  Beau gave her a brief glance before murmuring, “Thank you, ma’am.”

  Roan watched her direct the boy through the door, then took the coffeepot from Marley and went out into the storm. The cold wind whipped the slicker, and rain pelted them in the face. It was going to be a miserable night.

  Judd ran from the darkness and relieved them of the coffee, sticking the cups into his pockets. “Thanks. This is going to be mighty good.”

  “I don’t think we’ll have any more trouble until this storm blows over,” Roan said.

  “Yep, they’re hunkered down somewhere for now.” Rain ran off Judd’s hat. “They’re going to hit us again once it passes, though. I’ll bet a month’s wages on that. I sure wish Boss would ride in. It’d do my heart good.”

  “Mine too.” Roan didn’t want to think about what might’ve happened.

  “He’ll be back,” Marley said firmly. “Even if he has to crawl. If he’s alive, my papa will be back.”

  “Get back inside. Until he does, me and the boys will keep watch.” Judd turned toward the shadows where he’d come from.

  Roan put his arm around Marley. “Let’s check your windows.”

  They ran for the door, not slowing until they got over the threshold.

  “I didn’t think the skies would open up quite so fast.” Marley removed her hood and stared at the water pooling around her feet. “My floor. I’ve got to get the mop before it warps the wood.”

  “The floor is the least of our worries. But we’re stuck for now until it lets up.” Roan found the matches and lit the lamps, then laid a fire in the hearth.

  He stood gazing at Marley’s prized Arthur D. Winston painting hanging above the fireplace. It was good, no doubt about it, but so was she. He glanced around the room and saw touches of Marley everywhere—from the little crocheted doilies on the end table to the books and figurines on a shelf. But she was what made this a home.

  Marley strode from the bedroom. “I’m glad I came to check. Water is all over the floor. Thanks for making a fire. It’ll be warm in here by the time I mop up.”

  “I know it won’t do any good to say a word, so I’m not.” He shook his head as he watched her run for the mop. She was determined to have the place spic and span, and nothing would stop her. But it might be good for her to have something to do besides worry. He knew Will Gentry had rattled her.

  He dropped onto the settee and stared into the flames. He didn’t know what they’d do with Beau in the end, but the kid was not going back to Ruby. Roan meant to question him again after the boy got some rest. There was lots he still wanted to know. Like why Ruby was waging war.

  What could her motivation be? Why this need for other people’s land?

  It had to pertain to the first mob who’d ruled the region before the Texas Rangers came and rounded them up. Why start all that up again? What was it that Wheeler had said about Virginia Creek? Ah yes—she owned a ranch outside of town, and the mob had killed her husband and three sons several years back. But Virginia wasn’t Ruby. She might know her though. It still puzzled him why Virginia had been in Piebald with Gentry.

  He was still mulling over everything he’d seen and heard when Marley sat down beside him and laid her head on his shoulder. “You look deep in thought. Is Beau causing that furrowed brow?”

  “Trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together, only some don’t fit.”

  “I know. Why is Ruby doing this?” Marley rested a palm on his arm. Suddenly she sat up and stared at the sleeve of his jacket. “You’re bleeding! Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Oh that. A bullet nicked me. I’m fine. Doesn’t even hurt.”

  “You’re always telling me you’re fine when I can see with my own eyes that you aren’t.” She studied his bloody jacket. “What else happened to you? Keeping you in clothes is turning into a full-time job.”

  “You worry too much. Gentry’s knife slashed me. I felt the blade as it went by, but in the commotion of his escape, clean forgot about it. He missed the skin.”

  “Roan, he could’ve killed you!” Quick tears filled her eyes.

  That she was so emotional over something that hadn’t happened spoke of the depth of her stress. Though she was strong, she was near her breaking point, and it was understandable. Even the strongest person had to bend occasionally.

  The firelight flickered around them, bathing them in blue light from the flames. He wrapped his arms tightly around her. She was his entire world, and she filled it with every shade and blend of color he could’ve imagined.

  The lady had amazing talent. She could shoot, wipe runny noses, and write stories.

  And he was keeping her.

  Twenty-eight

  Marley gathered herself and slipped from his arms. “I want to see this injury that you insist is nothing.”

  If he needed treatment, she was going to see that he got it.

  Roan gave a long-suffering sigh and slipped out of the jacket. “At least I didn’t entirely ruin the shirt this time,” he joked. “That should earn me a point or two. I told you it’s nothing.”

  She pushed up his shirtsleeve and examined the wound. “It still needs a good cleaning. I’ll get some water.”

  “Whatever makes you happy. I’m learning that it doesn’t do a lick of good to argue.”

  “I just wish you’d learn to stop flirting with death,” she said from the small, open kitchen. The man was going to give her a heart attack one of these days. He must have some powerful guardian angels. One thing for sure, he was keeping them very busy.

  That he’d stood in the path of bullets and knives for her and her family made her eyes burn.

  Gathering a clean cloth, some gauze, and the water, she returned. The bullet had grazed his forearm, causing little enough damage. She was glad he was right, and she was glad about something else as well—that she’d insisted on cleaning it. Any excuse to run her fingers across his skin and feel the rippling muscles underneath was worth it.

  Roan’s strong forearms were a testament to a life spent doing heavy work. He wasn’t afraid to get his hands dirty and had, indeed, plunged into any task on the ranch with zeal. That was one of the things she admired about him.

  After washing blood from the wound and applying ointment, she wrapped gauze around his arm. “Roan, I’m curious about something. I hope you don’t think I’m prying.”

  “What would you like to know?”

  “Why are you drifting? You’re smart, and you know so much about a lot of things. You could be a banker or teacher or anything you want, yet you choose not to.”

  He touched his finger to her cheek and said softly, “Those jobs wouldn’t give me what I crave. Money can’t fix everything. I was looking for a place that my heart would recognize as home. I’ve found it here.” He brushed a kiss on her lips. “I was searching for you.”

  Marley swallowed the lump that suddenly blocked her throat. He was right. If he’d gotten a different job in some other town, she never would’ve known he existed.

  She’d have died without ever knowing love.

  “I’m glad you found me.” She cupped his jaw and stared into his smoldering gray eyes. “You came into my life like a gentle summer storm. You sto
le my heart, changed my dreams, gave my life new purpose. Hold me. Hold me, cowboy, and don’t ever let me go.”

  He gave a hoarse cry, pulled her against the hard planes of his body, and ground his mouth to hers. Marley welcomed the raging hunger that swept over her.

  She wanted to run her hands over his body, feel the wild beating of his heart that matched hers.

  She wanted him naked beside her, on top of her, inside her.

  She wanted to inhale his scent and know that he was hers.

  Marley’s fingers trembled as she worked to remove his shirt. She had to put out the fire inside her somehow or be roasted alive. Thank God for the rain that gave them this time. Who knew what was about to happen. This might be all they had.

  To die without knowing what it was like to make love to Roan—to not lie in his arms until trouble yanked them apart—would be the greatest tragedy.

  Roan appeared to share her burning passion. His touch was branded on her skin as he removed her clothing. With the last bit of fabric gone from her body, he slid his hands slowly down her throat, across her collarbone to the curve of her breasts, where he flattened his palms over her nipples. A low moan rumbled in his chest.

  He picked her up and carried her to the bed, setting her down on it. He didn’t join her at first.

  He stood beside the bed instead, running his hands through his hair. Breathing hard, Marley met his eyes. “Roan, this is right. We may not have anything after this night. They’re waiting for us out there in the blackness. We’re as good as married, as far as I’m concerned, and if we survive, we will be.” A sob tore through her. “I want to be your lady—fully and completely. Just once before I die.”

  “Are you sure about this?”

  “As positive as I’ve ever been about anything.” Sitting up, she put her fingers into his gun belt and tugged him closer. “I need you. We need each other.”

  The last of his resistance melted away. He removed his gun belt, boots, and trousers, dropping everything in a heap on the floor.

  Not bothering to turn back the covers, Roan lay down on his side next to her. The storm’s fury beyond the walls didn’t come close to the raw desire and hunger raging inside Marley. She ran her fingers across his broad chest and down his belly to his jutting need and closed her hand around his hardness. Moisture created a sheen between her thighs.