by Linda Broday
Luke grinned and ruffled his hair. “Papa Stoker?”
“It didn’t feel right me calling him Stoker. Even though she’s in heaven, my mama was frowning at me. Now she’s happy and I think Papa Stoker likes me calling him that.” Noah drew his brows together. “What do you think?”
The kid astonished him—to be so young and yet so wise. But then, he’d had to grow up fast. Noah had probably lived several lifetimes when he was with his sorry uncle.
“The name fits. You call him whatever feels good. You know, you have quite a head on those shoulders,” Luke said.
“But do you think I might run this ranch someday?”
“I know so. You’ve got smarts—you know how to count cows.” Luke noticed the kid’s clean hair. “Someone washed and cut your hair, boy. I can see that you do have eyes in your face after all.”
“The housekeeper did it. Mrs. Ross is real nice. She smells like my mama.” Noah seemed to sense Luke hadn’t come to talk about the housekeeper. “I’m feeling better, Luke. Doc says he might let me walk to the porch and sit out there in a few days.”
“That’s good, kid. You had me worried. Anytime you want to go see what’s going on outside these doors, I’ll carry you. You don’t have to wait until you can walk. Fresh air might be sorta nice.”
The boy shook his head. “Papa Stoker offered too, but I’d rather wait until I can make it on my own. Me and Rowdy are fine up here.”
“Noah, there’s no shame in asking for help.” His own words echoed inside Luke. If he really believed that, why did he refuse to do it himself? Stoker and his brothers had all tried to help. Luke squirmed, not liking the lesson.
“I know there’s no shame,” Noah said. “But I don’t wanna be bothersome, for anyone to have to do everything for me.”
“You couldn’t be bothersome if you tried.” Luke grinned when Rowdy wiggled into his lap. He stroked the little dog’s head. “Guess what Josie found.”
“What?”
“A kitten—a black one.”
“Where is it? I want to see,” Noah said.
“It’s in the kitchen. I’m sure she’ll bring the fur ball up after she eats.” Luke eyed Rowdy. “What do you think this dog is going to do to find you with a kitten?”
Noah shrugged. “Guess we’ll have to see. Rowdy’s awful jealous. How come you’re not eating, Luke?”
“Because I wanted to look in on you first, partner. I can eat anytime.”
“Well, I think I’m getting tired, so you might as well go on and do it now.” Noah forced a yawn and snuggled down in the covers.
Luke cocked his head sideways. He saw through the boy easily enough. Noah seemed to have aged twenty years in the time they’d been gone. Noah shouldn’t talk this grown-up or care about Luke’s empty belly. But he did.
“I’ll be back later. So will Josie,” he said. “I hope you’ll be through with your nap by then.”
“I will,” Noah said, grinning. “I want to see the kitten.”
Luke laughed. He’d just been replaced by a damn black cat.
* * *
Stoker slammed a fist to the table, rattling the dishes. “I want to ride over there and ask that whopper-jawed runt what the hell he thinks he’s doing.”
Luke took a seat in the breakfast room and calmly poured a cup of coffee. “That’s exactly what you shouldn’t do.”
“Why the hell not?” Stoker pinned Luke with a gaze.
Houston strode through the door. “Because you’ll get into a shouting match with Granger and there’ll be no putting out the fire. Next thing you know, they’ll shoot one or two of the ranch hands and we’ll shoot back and this whole part of the country will be in a war.”
“Houston’s right,” Luke said, taking a sip of coffee. He moved his elbow to let Cook slide a plate of eggs in front of him. Luke noticed the cat was missing and assumed Josie had put him in her room.
Josie’s arm brushed his. “How is Noah?”
“Older. Haven’t we just been gone two days or did I fall asleep for twenty years?”
She laughed. “Nope, it’s just been two days.”
“That boy’s a keeper,” Stoker said, propping his elbows on the table. “Smart as a whip.” He chuckled. “I’m thinking of making him ranch foreman. He and I play checkers every evening and he whips the tar out of me. I haven’t ridden down to the gate once since he’s been here either.” A faraway look came into Stoker’s eyes. “I think William Travis would’ve turned out a lot like Noah.” He gave a mournful sigh.
Who was William Travis? Luke crooked an eyebrow at Houston.
“He was Sam’s and my kid brother,” Houston explained. “He didn’t live to see two years old.”
“I’m so sorry,” Josie said, laying a hand on Stoker’s arm. “I’m sure you must miss him.”
Stoker gave her a half smile. “Every single day.”
Boots struck the polished wood floor and Sam strode into the breakfast room. The silver star on his chest gleamed in the lamplight. “I came as soon as I could. What are we going to do?”
“That’s what we’re trying to figure out,” Stoker said. “So far, Houston and Luke have shot down all my suggestions.”
“With good reason, I’m sure.” Sam pulled out a chair and grabbed the coffee, nodding at Josie. “I have a feeling this may be a three-pot meeting.”
“We need to defuse this keg of dynamite, Pa, instead of throwing kerosene and matches on it.” Houston rose and looked out the kitchen window. “If we don’t play this right, we could end up with a bloodbath and still lose the Lone Star.”
Stoker’s glare was the kind to scald a person. “No one is going to run us off our land. Not that beady-eyed possum Newt Granger, not a herd of armed bullies, not anybody. This land is ours. This is Legend land, run by Legend men, and Granger can go straight to hell!” He set down his cup rather forcefully and stood so suddenly his chair clattered backward onto the floor.
Rowdy yelped as though he’d been shot and ran under Josie’s chair. She lifted the shivering dog into her lap.
“Pa, think about our ranch hands and their families,” Sam said. “We’re obligated to them, and carting home a bunch of them dead…” He let the sentence trail off before adding, “Will we be able to live with ourselves?”
“Nope,” answered Houston without turning from the window.
“Granger doesn’t have the guts to kill a man outright.” Sam stuffed a biscuit into his mouth. “But I can’t say the same for his hired guns. Granger picked up two more gunslingers in Lost Point yesterday.”
Stoker huffed. “Who knows how many he has now.”
“I should be the one to go talk to him,” Luke said. “If he recognizes me, I could say I’ve decided to cut ties with family and offer my services. I doubt he’d turn down help.”
The fact that Granger probably didn’t know him was one advantage to the few visits he had made to the Lone Star, Luke thought sourly.
Quiet up to now, Josie spoke up. “A woman would have an easier time talking to the man. I’ll go over to his place.”
“No!” All four men hollered at once and Luke seemed the loudest. He wasn’t about to let her go into that kind of danger. If anyone hurt her, he’d not stop until he tore them limb from limb.
“Just listen.” Josie had to speak louder to be heard over the yelling. Luke gave a shrill whistle, and when they quieted, Josie went on. “Being a woman, I’d at least get a foot in the door. That’s far more than any of you’d do. I can be your eyes and ears.” Her eyes glistened in the light and Luke realized she relished being useful. Hell, she’d probably be good at it.
“We need to know if he’s all bluff,” she went on. “Who knows? Maybe I can reason with him, get him to return the land in exchange for his horse—without bloodshed.”
They were silent. Luke knew she spok
e sense, but dammit, he didn’t want her going into enemy territory. Especially if Kidd, Brenner, and God knows who else was there.
Josie leaned back. “Do any of you have a better idea?”
The men around the table fell silent.
After pondering a long minute, Luke said, “I don’t like it. Not one little bit, but she’s right. A pretty woman can find out what we need to know.”
“Have you lost your mind, Luke?” Stoker’s glare pierced him.
“She can pretend to be anyone or anything. Believe me, she can do this. I’ve watched her in action.” Luke met the warmth of her gaze, and the secretive smile said she remembered the posse and the hot kisses they’d shared. He dragged his thoughts back to the current situation. “Put her in a frilly dress, squirt some rosewater on her, and Granger’s bunch will fall all over themselves. They’ll say things they never intended to say.”
Houston swung away from the window where he was staring out into the thin rays of a pink dawn. “It’s the best idea we’ve got. It just might work. At least for now.” He sat next to her. “I have a feeling you’re a whole lot tougher than you look, Miss Josie. You remind me of my wife. On first glance you don’t see the steel underneath.”
Josie blinked and Luke knew she was touched. “Your wife is lucky to have a husband like you. I’d like to meet her.”
“You will. I’ll bring Lara to meet you later today and introduce my Gracie.” He chuckled. “Just watch out. Gracie will enter the terrible twos in a few months.”
“That daughter of yours is a real heart-tugger.” Luke remembered how the baby girl wound every drover around her finger during the trail drive to Dodge City last year. Men argued over who was going to watch her while her mama cooked for them. Luke’s mind shifted to Lara’s little brother. “How’s Henry doing these days? He had quite a scare on that trip.”
“Real good,” Houston answered. “The boy’s pretty resilient. He hardly talks about how close he came to dying with the attack of the wolf pack and then when Yuma Blackstone cornered him and Lara.”
“He’s a tough boy.” Luke explained to Josie that Lara’s little brother was slow and that he’d come on the trail drive as Lara’s helper. “Henry just wanted to be normal for once, like his older brothers.”
“You all have such a closeness,” Josie said with admiration. “I hope when I find my family, they’ll be like you. But I really don’t think they will. Or even that I’ll find them.”
Luke set down his cup. “Don’t give up so easily. I’ve only gotten started.”
“And if he doesn’t find them, I will,” Stoker promised.
“Thanks. To both of you.”
“Back to Granger…with the road blocked, Josie will have to go by way of Medicine Springs,” Luke said. “I’ll go along. Since I won’t try to hire on, we’ll say I’m her escort.” He rubbed his stubble. “The fact that I haven’t shaved in days will make me look mean.”
Before anyone could say anything else, the heavy knocker on the front door banged insistently. A minute later, Pony Latham, their ranch foreman, entered. He stood on bowed legs shaped by too many hours in the saddle.
“Someone to see you, Stoker,” Pony said. “He won’t take no for an answer.”
“One of Granger’s men?” Stoker asked.
Latham shot Luke a glance. “No, sir. He’s a U.S. Marshal. Wants to know the whereabouts of Luke Weston.”
Luke’s blood froze. He’d brought the law here. Dammit, why hadn’t he listened to what his head had told him? He’d known to stay away, but after the recent nightmare, the need for family had been stronger.
There was only one thing to do. He pushed back his chair.
Stoker’s grip stopped him. “Stay here. I’ll handle this. I’ve been expecting this moment.”
Sam and Houston both rose and flanked their father. Luke watched with a heavy heart as they stormed from the room. He’d known this would happen eventually. They’d have to hide him—lie for him. Well, no more. He started to rise.
“Don’t,” Josie said, clutching his arm. “Your father knows what he’s doing. And if his brash defense of you gets him into hot water, your brothers will keep him in line.”
“They didn’t ask for this. I did.” He tugged free. “Go up and show Noah the kitten. He’s waiting.”
Luke didn’t wait for her reply, instead followed after his family. He almost made it to the parlor when he heard Stoker.
“Are you threatening me in my own house?” His father’s thunder seemed to vibrate the windows.
“Just stating facts, Mr. Legend. We have it on good authority that Luke Weston is your son. If you’re harboring him, an outlaw and a murderer, you’re going to jail. Your money and power won’t save you. You stand to lose everything you have.” The visitor spoke matter-of-factly in a flat, emotionless tone.
“I didn’t catch your name,” Sam said.
“U.S. Marshal Orin Haskill. I know your fame as a Texas Ranger, Sam Legend, and although you’ve exchanged that badge for a sheriff’s, I know you don’t take the duty lightly. Talk some sense into your father.”
“No one needs to talk sense into me, U.S. Marshal Orin Haskill,” Stoker snapped. “My answer’s the same. Once and for all, I haven’t seen Luke Weston.”
Luke winced and sagged against the wall. He’d tried like hell to keep his lawless ways from touching his father and brothers, praying every single day that he wouldn’t bring shame to them. And now they were being forced to lie for him—deny him.
“Do you still say he’s not your son?”
The silence seemed to say it all. Luke released a muted whimper, curling up into a ball inside. His father couldn’t claim him. The truth hurt.
“Is he your son, Mr. Legend?” Haskill asked a second time.
“Dammit, yes, he is my son and I am proud to claim him.” From where Luke waited, Stoker seemed to fling the words at the lawman like they were projectiles. Luke released his trapped breath. The secret was out and there was no putting it back.
Now, they’d make Stoker pay. Luke knew it as sure as the sun was shining. Why hadn’t his father kept denying him, saved himself?
“We’re going to find him,” Haskill said in a grim tone. “Bounty hunters will kill him for that two thousand dollars. Do you want to see your son brought to you draped across the rump of a horse?”
Pain tore through him to have his father go against everything he stood for—integrity, honor, truth.
“It looks to me that you could stop Newt Granger from plunging us into a blood feud,” Houston ground out. “He poses far greater danger than my brother. We’re going to have hell like Texas hasn’t seen in a whole lot of years.”
The marshal huffed. “Give up Weston and we’ll talk.”
Stoker yelled, “Get the hell off my land! Get off or I’ll throw you off. And if you come back here, you’d best not come alone. A man will see you to the gate and it’ll remain closed to the likes of you. That includes bounty hunters too.”
Luke headed down the hall. He wouldn’t hide. And he wouldn’t let Stoker take the punishment that was coming to Luke. He’d give himself up. Before he could reach the door, Houston rushed from the room. He froze when he saw Luke, then grabbed him, propelled him backward into Stoker’s office, and flung the door shut.
Luke glared and jerked away. “Let me do what needs doing.”
“If you think I’m going to watch you throw your life away, you’re crazier than a liquored-up bedbug.”
Boots pounded on the floor outside the office and the front door banged so hard it rattled the boards.
“Why do you three keep trying to save me?” Luke asked.
“Because you’re ours.” Houston shrugged. “You belong to this family.” He grinned. “And because I like having you for a brother. We’re bound by blood.”
Luke met his st
are. “Houston, I’ve been down a thousand miles of bad roads when I didn’t know if I’d make it out alive. Do you know what got me through those times?”
“Nope.”
“A dream of mattering—to someone.”
Houston growled, “You do a hell of a lot more than matter to me, to this family.” He waved his arm toward Luke’s mother’s portrait on the wall. “You mattered to her.”
“Yeah.”
“We’ve all had our share of impossible roads. I’ll stand beside you to the bitter end, ride the bad trails with you.” Houston squeezed Luke’s shoulder. “I’ll die for you, brother. Never doubt that for a second.”
Thickness clogged Luke’s throat. “No one has ever said that to me before.”
“Well, now they have.”
Luke had found out today just how far Stoker and his brothers were willing to go for him and it went far beyond money and power. He found the insight sobering. He dragged air deep into his lungs.
Houston sighed. “Now that I’ve settled that, frankly, I’m a little tired of you wearing sackcloth and ashes.” He jabbed Luke’s chest. “So what if you’ve had a tough break? Lots of people have. Stop pissing and moaning, and do something about it.”
Anger climbed up the back of Luke’s neck. “You think I’m not trying? Hell, I’ve ridden over a thousand miles during the last two years trying to track down the man who’ll clear me.”
“Listen, I know all that. What I’m saying is—”
“What, exactly? Spell it out.” Luke wanted to know what his brother thought. He loved and respected Houston and knew him to talk straight and back up his words with action.
“I know you would do anything for this family, Luke. You already have.”
“Damn right.”
Houston ran his fingers through his dark-brown hair. His reply came as a soft plea. “Get it into that thick skull of yours that we’ll do anything for you. Let us help.”
Luke met the unwavering resolve in Houston’s eyes.
Sudden realization struck him. At last, he had a real purpose for being alive. His family was about more than words. Stoker had claimed him, at huge risk to himself and the ranch he loved more than life.
