The Heart of a Texas Cowboy

by Linda Broday

  He sat on his horse with his arm resting on the pommel, his gaze following Frank Farley as he took out after a longhorn escapee. Yuma Blackstone’s former gang member had turned into a first-class drover. No one worked harder or longer than Frank. Houston had begun to have second thoughts about turning him over to the military at the fort. If the man had entertained thoughts of killing them, he’d had plenty of chances. Yet he seemed genuinely glad to be in their company.

  Surprisingly, Frank had even shown quite a deep affection for Gracie. And the little angel thought the sun rose and set in the outlaw. Of course, she took up with anyone who offered a smile. Suffice it to say, there would be no living with the child by the time they reached Dodge City. It would be a pure wonder too if she ever figured out what her legs were for.

  The late afternoon sun sat low on the horizon. Twilight would soon come. Houston lifted his hat and used his bandanna to wipe the sweat trickling down his face. The weather had turned unseasonably hot over the last week, which made them look forward to the nights, when they could cool off.

  For Houston, nighttime couldn’t come fast enough for a different reason.

  After feeding the drovers and putting Gracie to bed, he and Lara would crawl onto their blanket to while away the hours cementing their commitment to each other. Although they couldn’t fully shed their clothing or make love, they found other ways to show how they felt.

  Teasing and caressing.

  Kissing until they grew breathless.

  Whispering words of love.

  As he learned his wife’s body, Houston grew bolder. He knew what made her eyes grow round, gave her those excited gasps, and had her whispering his name in that breathless voice. He stoked her need to give him pleasure in return.

  Pushing the memories aside, he jammed on his hat. “Dammit to hell! I just want to get to Dodge. Bathe my woman in a steaming bath, make love on a real bed, dress her in fine clothes,” he growled into the breeze.

  Sighing, he turned the Appaloosa and galloped forward, not slowing until he rode alongside Lara’s wagon.

  “Howdy, cowboy,” she said, grinning. “Haven’t I seen you somewhere before?”

  “Reckon so, ma’am. I ride in these parts pretty often.”

  “You remind me a lot of my husband. Would you know him?” She leaned toward him and her dress gaped open, giving him a view of the rounded tops of her breasts.

  He had to force himself to swallow before he drooled onto his chin. Lara had started leaving the top buttons of her dress unfastened, but not ever this far before. He hoped none of the men would remark on it, because he’d sure hate to knock their teeth out, what with them being so far from a dentist.

  “What does your husband look like, ma’am?” he drawled.

  Lara ran her tongue slowly and deliberately across her lips. “Oh, he’s tall like you and has big, gentle hands that can swallow a woman. His arms ripple with strength and he loves children and horses.”

  “You don’t say?”

  “I most certainly do.” She slid a forefinger into the parted bodice and moved it back and forth across her skin.

  Houston smothered a groan as his heartbeat quickened. His wife had learned fast how to excite him. And right now, all he could think of was rolling on top and spilling himself into her. The bulge in his pants became uncomfortable.

  “Anything else about this husband of yours?” he asked hoarsely.

  “Oh, I should say. He knows how to satisfy his wife,” Lara went on, pushing her finger deeper into the folds of her bodice. Houston smothered another groan. “He keeps me safe and he can be very tough on those who try to hurt me.”

  “Sounds like you sort of like this man.”

  “I love my cowboy with all my heart and soul.”

  “Do tell?” Houston’s grin spread. He loved playing this game with her, seeing her lighthearted teasing.

  “Know where I can get a bed for the night?” she asked.

  “Meet me by the chuck wagon later and I’ll tell you.”

  Before he said any more, Henry stuck his head from the canvas opening and mumbled, “Hi, Houston.”

  “Why, howdy, Bones. I wondered where you were.” He watched Henry climb out to sit beside Lara. The boy’s bruises and cuts had begun to show signs of fading, and in the daylight he appeared almost back to his old self. It was only when night came that he retreated inside himself where no one could follow.

  “I was playing with Gracie on account of Lara being busy.”

  “I’m sure your sister appreciates that. Is she safe in the wagon by herself?”

  “Yep.”

  Just then Gracie let out a deafening squeal and jabbered as fast as she could. Lara stopped the wagon and leaned through the opening. “Come here, Houston, you should see this.”

  Wondering what she was laughing at, he dismounted and climbed up beside her. The child sat on the floor, secured to a flour barrel with a length of rope. Henry had wrapped the lariat around and around both baby and barrel. Squirming, yelling, and baby cussing, Gracie was having none of being tied up.

  Henry poked his head between Houston and Lara. “I was keeping her safe. If bad men come they won’t kill her.”

  Unsure how to reply, Houston crawled inside. He quickly freed the babe, lifting her out to her mother. While Lara comforted the child, Houston asked Henry to come with him. Three paces from the wagon, Houston put his arm around the boy’s shoulders. He was almost as tall as Houston. “Henry, I know you saw some real bad stuff in the Ledbetters’ wagon—”

  “Blood. Blood on my hands. Blood in my hair.”

  “I can’t imagine how much that scared you and—”

  “I was afraid to die.”

  That statement broke Houston’s heart. Young boys shouldn’t have to be afraid of dying. Henry should be catching bullfrogs and fishing and taking a ribbing from his brothers.

  “You don’t have to be scared here. Me and all my men are going to keep you and Gracie and Lara safe.”

  “They will come,” the boy said matter-of-factly.

  “No, Henry. The outlaws are a long way from here. They don’t know where we are. And you know why they don’t?”

  He shook his head.

  “Because my brothers, Sam and Luke, are making sure they won’t hurt anyone ever again.”

  “But they might.”

  Standing in the last rays of a dying sun, Henry wasn’t convinced and Houston couldn’t really blame him. The boy had seen a horrific sight that was still lodged in his brain.

  Houston pulled Henry close. “If you trust me at all, just know that even if the bad men come, I’m not going to let them hurt you. Not now, not tomorrow or forever.”

  “Okay.”

  As they turned toward the wagon, a circling hawk squawked overhead. Two more steps and a coyote’s mournful howl sent shivers up Houston’s spine.

  Henry was right. Trouble rode toward them.

  But from which direction?

  Blackstone and his gang were out there. Waiting. Watching. Thinking. Houston could almost hear the sound of their breathing.

  Wild beasts stalking wary prey.

  Forty

  Gloom shrouded everything in sight by the time they stopped for the night. Pushing hard, they’d doubled the miles today. That should’ve satisfied Houston, but it didn’t. He wished they’d made fifty, or a hundred, and put themselves out of range of whatever was coming.

  Danger crackled in the air like lightning did right before it struck. He felt it, and he knew by the men’s anxious glances and nervous laughter they did too.

  Near the campfire, he squatted down beside his horse and picked up a handful of red dirt. Maybe it was this color because of all the spilled blood. Lord knew the lawless territory had seen plenty. The area was nothing but a haven for outlaws and mercenaries—the baddest of the b
ad.

  Men with nothing to lose.

  Men who killed for the sake of it.

  Men such as Yuma Blackstone.

  The pounding of hooves brought him to his feet. He slid his Colt from the holster, staring into the thick black night in the direction they’d come. The hair on his arms rose. Still he couldn’t see anything, and whoever it was kept coming. The sound grew louder and louder and his heart thudded painfully against his ribs.

  Two riders materialized from around a stand of mesquite, riding straight for him.

  “Hold it right there!” Houston barked.

  The riders stopped. A voice called out, “Don’t shoot. It’s Sam and Luke.”

  Relieved, Houston returned his Colt to the leather holster and watched them walk in. Both appeared dirty and tired. From the looks of them, they’d been in the saddle since daylight.

  Dark stains covered their shirts. Appeared to be blood.

  “You’re a sight for sore eyes,” he said, clasping their hands. “I figured you for dead.”

  Sam glanced at Luke and grinned. “You mean we’re not?”

  Houston touched Sam’s shoulder to assure himself his brother was real. “Looks like you had a time of it. You’re about ready to keel over.”

  From beneath the brim of his hat, Luke’s eyes glittered like bits of glass in the firelight. “We fought like hell to get here to warn you. They’re coming with a vengeance and they’ve got killing in mind.”

  “’Course, they’re short by at least six,” Sam added. “Wish we could’ve whittled away a few more.”

  Clay, Pony, and several other drovers gathered around. Houston watched Clay exchange a nod with Luke.

  “Did you find Gus?” Pony asked.

  “What there was left of him.” Luke accepted a cup of coffee Lara brought him, and she passed the next to Sam.

  The drovers waited while Sam and Luke took several sips, letting the hot brew wash some of the trail dust from their throats.

  Frank Farley stood apart, watching. Houston saw yearning in his eyes to be included. Yet, one question persisted. Was he really with them, or against them? Was he only pretending to be fed up with Yuma? Houston sighed. He couldn’t invite the man to join them until he was sure.

  Luke turned to Lara, who stood with Houston. “Thank you, Miss Lara. This hits the spot…until I can find something stronger. Which I hope is sooner rather than later.”

  Lara laid a hand on his shoulder. “Glad I can help.”

  “Whiskey’s in my saddlebag. Help yourself.” Houston slid his arm around Lara and prodded his brothers. “I want to know everything from the time we left. But first, tell us about Gus. The men need information about their friend.”

  “Miss Lara, what we have to say isn’t pretty,” Sam said with a question in his voice.

  Lara stiffened. “I’m no weak lily, Sam. Of anyone here, I most know what Yuma is capable of.”

  Before the brothers could go on, loud cries erupted. Caroline rushed toward Lara with Gracie. “She fell trying to pull up to that big rock over there and skinned her leg. I told her she was all right, but she wants her mama.”

  Taking her, Lara moved away so the men could talk. Houston’s gaze followed as she comforted the child. Part of him yearned go with her, to plug his ears to more tales of killing, to simply be a family. But as head of the outfit, he had no choice but to stay.

  “Go on, Sam.” He dragged his attention back to the circle.

  “The day you left, we found the carcass of a dead cow,” Sam said. “Someone had skinned it and stripped away the meat. We assumed the culprits were hungry Indians from one of the tribes. Then three days later, we ran across Gus.”

  Luke took up the story. “At first we thought it was another dead cow. Someone had wrapped the cowhide tightly around Gus and bound it while he was alive. They left him out in the sun to dry. The shrinking hide crushed him to death.”

  A commotion drew Houston’s attention as Gus’s best friend, Pony, pushed through the wall of men. Tears trickled down his face. “Those dirty, low-down bastards. They could’ve killed him without torture! He never did one damn thing to them. I say we hunt down every stinkin’ one of ’em.”

  It would be nice. But Yuma wanted him to leave Lara unprotected so he could get to her.

  “You’ll ride into a death trap if you go.” Sam took the last swig of coffee and tossed the dregs onto the ground. “They’re ready and itching to kill more of us. I’ve been working as a lawman all my life. I’ve seen my share of killers eaten alive with bloodlust until it wiped out every trace of humanity, but this bunch is more evil than any I’ve ever seen.”

  Luke shifted and stared at Houston. His words had a hard edge. “We’ve got to stop them from getting Lara and Gracie, at all costs. If they do… Well, just know after a few days with them, you won’t recognize her.”

  The warning drenched Houston like a bucket of icy water. It took great effort to drag his gaze from Luke’s cold green eyes. When he did, he glanced at Lara sitting with young Caroline. Blue flames from the fire played across her beautiful features, but the shadows made the long, jagged scar on her face appear deep. He watched her kiss Gracie and hug her tight. The backs of his eyes burned.

  If anyone hurt either of them, he’d not rest until he wiped them from the earth.

  Houston pried the words from his back teeth. “Don’t worry, Luke. They’ll have to drain every last drop of blood from my body first, and doing that will take more fighters and strength than they’ve got.”

  Murmurs of solidarity went around the circle and he knew they’d protect her and Gracie with their lives.

  “We were able to pick off six from a cliff top but the bastards just seem to multiply like a bunch of roaches. Sam and I got back here as quick as possible to warn you. They’re riding hard and fast. You don’t want to see what this group can do.” Luke let out a string of curses.

  “We found something to show you.” Sam walked to his horse and reached into his saddlebag. “We have another group on our trail.”

  The former Texas Ranger took about a dozen broken arrows from his saddlebag.

  Houston nodded and told his brothers about the burned-out village they’d discovered.

  “What’s to make them think you didn’t do it?” Luke asked.

  “Nothing.” Not one blessed thing. Houston rubbed his day-old whiskers. They could have the Indians after them too. How would they survive both groups?

  Henry climbed down from the chuck wagon and went to sit with the women. Even from this distance, Houston could see the dark circles under his eyes.

  “Sam, did you and Luke happen to hear of a raid on the Ledbetters’ wagon?”

  “We stopped it. Why?”

  Houston told them about Henry’s ordeal and how he walked all that way to them. “He said the outlaws killed them all.”

  “So that’s what happened to him.” Sam glanced toward the boy. “We worried when we couldn’t find him.”

  Luke crossed his arms. “In the dark, it’s easy to see how he’d think they’d all been killed. Hiram had told them to play dead if they ever came under attack. That’s what they did. They’re alive, Houston, but almost everyone, including the children, had bad wounds. After helping Hiram doctor them, we escorted them out of danger and they went on.”

  “It’s a relief that they survived the slaughter.” Houston glanced at the boy. “Will you tell Henry? He needs to know.”

  Maybe, somehow, the boy could find his laughter again.

  “Sure.” Luke walked to the campfire and dropped next to Henry.

  “I want your opinion, Sam.” Houston rubbed the back of his neck. “I have half a notion to leave the herd and make a run for Fort Supply. The only thing stopping me is not knowing if we could move fast enough to stay ahead of them.”

  “Luke and I discussed
that,” Sam answered. “But we’d risk an attack in the open, where they’d cut us down. I say send the women on with one man and make a stand right here, in the shadow of this rocky cliff. We could hold them up and let the women escape. It seems our best option to me. If they were my family, that’s what I’d do.”

  As long as his family and Caroline were out of danger, Houston would draw a line and stay put. He’d take whatever came: life—or death.

  The end of Clay’s cigarette glowed when he inhaled. He blew the smoke out slowly. “We didn’t bring a lot of shovels, but if we work through the night, the men could dig a long trench. Doubt the gang would even see us until it was too late.”

  Houston mulled that over. Yuma’s force had shrunk by six. The drovers outnumbered them now. With luck, the fight would end fast. “I like that idea, Clay. We can set things around to make it appear that Lara is still here. How far behind are they, Sam?”

  “A day maybe but could be less,” Sam said, rubbing his eyes. “Say, do you mind if I get some grub? Luke and I haven’t eaten since yesterday and my belly’s letting me know it.”

  “Go ahead. We’ll talk while you eat.” Houston strode to the chuck wagon with his little brother. His gaze went to Henry, who sat with Luke. The boy sniffled and wiped his nose but so far held the tears at bay.

  Henry glanced at Houston. “They’re not all dead. They’re not.”

  “Good news, Henry. Every cloud has a silver lining.”

  He just prayed this cloud did.

  * * *

  Lara lay in Houston’s arms under the chuck wagon, listening to the sound of the men digging, hearing each time they struck rock. He’d been out most of the night helping but had come back to seek a little rest with her.

  She shifted and glanced over to find him staring at the underside of the wagon. “You’re so still I thought you might be asleep.”

  “Thinking.”

  The deep rumble of his voice brought comfort. “Perhaps you could explain something.”

  “Anything for you.” He kissed her upturned face.