The Texas Ranger's Daughter
Page 7
His scowl grew deeper and the corners of his mouth turned down.
Laurie continued. “Once a woman has been through something like this…well, she’d not be welcomed home. If they find out what has become of me, I fear they may still think the worst. No man wants a woman who’s been cruelly used.”
“There’s men out there who aren’t so hard.”
“None that I know. That’s why a lady must protect her reputation at all costs. I had hopes of attracting a good, decent man. One who is respected in the community. A minster, perhaps, or a banker. A man who I could be proud to call my own.”
Boon scrubbed his hand over his mouth, but it didn’t remove the bitter taste there. Something curled up and died inside him at her words. He wasn’t sure why he should care what kind of a man she wanted to hook. But he did.
“A woman’s reputation and that of her family is all she has,” Laurie explained.
“I’ll tell your father I reached you in time.”
She lowered her chin and glanced away. She knew that was not true. A proper lady would have stopped him last night. A proper lady would not have enjoyed his caresses. A proper lady would not be wanting him to touch her again. She couldn’t understand her own mind. He was dangerous and not at all the sort of man of which her family would approve, yet there was something to him. He’d brought her clothes, he’d released her bonds, accepted her riding without a lead line and now he’d given her his mother’s derringer. That made him an unusual kind of outlaw at the very least.
“What about what happened between us?” she whispered.
“That don’t change nothing, Laurie.”
Laurie felt the shock clear down to her toes. He’d touched her in the most intimate way possible and it had changed her because she’d enjoyed it. And now she wasn’t searching for ways to prevent him from touching her. Quite the opposite. But he said it didn’t change a thing? She tore her gaze away but his voice followed her.
“Unless you think the opinion of an outlaw is as valueless as Confederate currency.”
She stiffened and then returned her attention to him, finding the hard lines about his mouth had returned. “I said no such thing.”
He tugged at the brim of his hat, drawing it low on his forehead. “Your eyes did.”
Laurie’s chin began to tremble as she looked up at Boon.
“What if my family doesn’t want me back?”
Boon could not stand to see her tears. He gathered her in his arms and she relaxed against him, letting him have part of her weight. He rocked her and she let him hold her, let him stroke the satin of her dark hair.
“What if they find out what we did together?” she whispered.
He stiffened and then let the wind leave him with his hope. “What I did to you, you mean.”
Her big dark eyes widened and she shook her head.
“I didn’t stop you.”
“Why should you? I only thought to give you ease. Distract you. Comfort you.”
She had her hands up over her eyes again as if she couldn’t bear to look at him. It muffled her words, but he could make them out.
“I never should have let you.”
“Laurie, I swear, I never knew that you’d feel so low about it. You’re inexperienced or you’d know that you’re still a…well, you’re as I found you.”
Rather than reassure, this information seemed to be the push that sent her into sobs. Why, try as he might, could he do nothing right by her?
She was gasping for air now and he was rubbing her back, trying to help her along. Why the devil had he believed anything that Paulette had told him? He closed his eyes and recalled how furious the others were when they discovered the tricks she’d taught him.
Paulette had shown him all the ways to please a woman, for her sake, not his. When Lottie and Patsy found out they’d run her out. The two whores at the Blue Belle, where he’d been born, had done their best to raise him after his mother’s passing and thought he was too young to be bedded by Paulette, though they’d had customers of the same age and younger. He’d run off after Paulette, thinking himself in love.
When he caught her, she’d set him straight and cut him loose. He’d never confused love and lust again. One was common, the other rare as gold ore.
“I guess I don’t know any better,” he said. “I never been around ladies before and I didn’t figure—”
She drew back so fast he wobbled. “Are you mocking me?”
“Mocking? Laurie, I don’t understand.”
“You don’t think I’m a lady, do you? And why should you? I certainly have not behaved like one.”
She sniffed and placed a fist over her mouth. The sight of her in such a state punched a hole through his heart.
“I think you’re pretty as a picture, Laurie, and you’re a lady if I ever seen one.”
She gave a little cry and turned her back, leaving him standing there wanting to hit something, to hold her and also wishing he could roll back time and try again. He was a damned fool.
“My father won’t want me back. Not when they know what’s happened to me.”
“He’ll want you back, Laurie. I know it.”
“How could you possibly?” she asked, spinning to face him once more as she scrutinized his face.
He couldn’t tell her that he knew it because her father had been willing to send the likes of him. He hesitated. Her eyes narrowed on him.
Boon rubbed his neck. “I heard him say so.”
The suspicion did not lift from her expression. “What did my father say exactly?”
“Let me think on it a minute.”
Boon recalled the summons he’d received to go to the captain’s office. He had pushed down the flash of panic that ripped into his insides like lightning through dead wood and made his way across the dusty street to the Cactus Flower Hotel in San Antonio. After his capture and release, Boon had done nothing to make the captain regret his decision not to hang him. But his men had made it clear they wanted justice.
Boon wanted something else. He wanted John Bender’s respect. He wanted it so badly he was near cross-eyed with it. John Bender was a legend with the Texas Rangers and Boon knew what the man had risked by letting him walk.
As he had approached the upstairs room past flickering oil lamps, the raised voices had brought him to a stop.
“I don’t care. I want her back.” That was Captain Bender’s voice, he knew.
“Hammer knows that. He’s going to take it out on her. Make her pay for what you did to his brother. He won’t get to her in time. You know that.” This voice belonged to Sam Coats, Captain Bender’s second in command and a Ranger who hated Boon on sight. That’s when Coats had said that reforming outlaws was akin to reforming rattlesnakes: the chances of success were not worth the risk.
“I’m not leaving her with Hammer.”
They were talking about the soulless outlaw who’d captured him. But who was the her? Boon’s body tensed as he leaned closer to the door.
“He’s only been with them a week. He’s not one of them. They’ll likely shoot him on sight. It’s a mistake.”
Boon’s heart pounded because he’d ridden with Hammer one week.
“Well, it’s my mistake.”
That was the captain’s voice, deep and commanding. He was a hard man to sway in discussion, though it didn’t stop Coats from trying.
Boon’s heart now beat in his throat as Coats’s words confirmed that he was the subject of their heated discussion.
“I don’t trust a man with but one name.”
“Not everyone has a family tree stretching back to Jamestown,” said the captain, not trying to disguise the irritation in his voice. “Besides, he’s the only one with a chance to get in.”
“We can take them. You don’t need an inside man,” said Coats.
“I do if I want her alive.”
“Then send Dewey. They don’t know him.”
“They’d shoot him before he even got off hi
s horse. I need someone who knows how they think. Understands what it takes to ride with them and is willing to do what’s necessary to achieve his mission.”
“Break the law and murder folks, you mean.”
Boon held his breath, waiting, hoping that the captain would defend him. But instead, he said nothing to this.
“You’ll get Laurie killed,” said Coats.
“He’s the fastest rider I’ve got. Shit, if Dewey hadn’t shot his horse we’d never have caught him.”
“Maybe you should send his horse.”
“They’d never expect it, for me to send someone like Boon.”
What did he mean, someone like him? Someone like an outlaw, a killer? His head sunk. Why had he thought he had a shot at earning the captain’s respect? He would always be a rattlesnake, dangerous and unpredictable.
Coats’s voice came again, low like a warning whispered in the dark. “He’ll turn on you.”
Inside the room a chair scraped on the wooden planking.
“Maybe—maybe not. Let’s see which way he swings before we give him that rope necktie,” said the captain. “I see something in the boy. Give him a chance.”
Coats made a sound of frustration. “They say if you give a man enough rope he’ll hang himself. If only.”
“Where is the boy?”
Boon grimaced. He was no boy. He’d be nineteen come winter. That’s what he had been told, anyway. Winter 1862, though none could recall the month or day.
And in the time he’d been with Hammer’s gang he went places and did things that aged him beyond his eighteen years, things that he feared would take a lifetime to forget. Did the captain think him worthy of redemption or was he just waiting for confirmation that he was just as bad as the men he rode with?
“Probably out stealing our horses,” said Coats.
He retreated and then made a second approach without his customary stealth. Hammer once said he was the only man he knew who could catch a mountain lion sleeping.
Boon’s boots slapped the planking with the confident tread he’d never had. He knocked on the door and waited for the order to enter.
Inside, he found Coats seated in one of two stuffed chairs, his familiar glare now fixed on Boon. Beside him stood Bender, tall and thin, in his black trousers and silver belt buckle, brown leather vest with concho buttons and a clean white shirt. Hard riding and outdoor living made his face tanned and craggy. His long nose was punctuated by a bristly mustache, still black, though the hair on his head showed silver at the temples and at the long sideburns that didn’t quite reach his mustache. His gun and holster sat coiled on the table before him.
Coats noticed the direction of Boon’s gaze and made a point of resting a hand on his repeater. Seemed Coats still thought he was here to kill them. As if getting caught was all some master plan to infiltrate the Rangers. They’d shot his horse and taken his weapons, all but the derringer he kept in the inside vest pocket. They’d never looked there. Besides he’d had opportunity to shoot them when they pinned him. He didn’t, though he’d expected them to shoot him.
But how could anyone who came from a band of outlaws ever anticipate that once captured, instead of a prompt hanging, he would find mercy?
Boon rubbed his neck. He still didn’t understand it. But it did earn his allegiance to the captain. No one ever cared about him before. And no one ever thought he merited a second chance. He would walk through fire for Bender and he’d stay to be insulted by his men because of their captain. Respect wasn’t given easily by Rangers.
“You sent for me, Captain?”
“Yes, son. Sit down.”
Son; he said it so easily. Did he know that Boon would give his shooting hand to really be this man’s son? He lowered his gaze to the floor, not wanting him to see the emotion caused by that simple word. For a man who didn’t even know his father’s name, the fantasy held great allure.
He sat on the edge of the bed, leaving the good chair for Bender, who folded his lanky frame into the seat beside Coats.
“I’ve got an assignment for you, son.”
Boon’s fingers clutched at the rough wool blanket upon the bed as he met the captain’s steady gaze. Boon had waited weeks for this, a chance to prove his worth, show he could be one of them, instead of grooming horses and running errands. But this was not what he had pictured, not at all.
“Yes, sir.”
“It’s dangerous.”
Boon nodded, hope surging. The more dangerous the assignment, the better the chance of earning this man’s esteem and perhaps, someday, his own peso star. The Texas Rangers wore the star on their coat or hat and it was famously cut from a Mexican silver peso. Boon wanted one of his own. But this was not a prize he could steal. Perhaps he’d never be worthy, but it didn’t stop him from dreaming of being a part of this elite group of lawmen.
“Yes, sir?”
“It involves your former associates.”
The knot returned to his stomach. It was just as he’d feared. They were sending him back to Hammer.
Boon stared at Bender. Here were two men equally as tough, hardened like the steel barrels of their pistols, but somehow they’d kept their humanity. They held the violence in check and lacked the mercilessness for which Hammer was known.
“I need you to go back to him.”
Boon felt he might be sick right there on the captain’s bed.
Coats lifted a hand in his direction and smiled. “Look at him. He ain’t got the stomach for it.”
Boon forced himself to lift his chin and hold the dismissive glare of Sam Coats. “Maybe I’m not good enough for the Rangers. But I’m sure as hell not as bad as that outlaw.”
“I know it,” said Bender. “And I’m not asking you to join them again, son. He’s captured a girl. I need to get her back.”
Boon swallowed. Likely her family wouldn’t want her once Hammer and his men finished with her. It was the worst part of riding with them, seeing what they did to the women. But the captain had said girl.
“You’re the only one who can get close enough to find out where they are. Go back to him. Convince him you’re joining up again and then send word to me where you are. Then protect that gal with your life until we get there. Her name’s Laurie. Dark hair, dark eyes, pretty as a picture. They took her right here in San Antonio, right under my damned nose, then left a ransom note.”
“I know where they might have taken her.”
He gave the location of Hammer’s two hideouts and the men decided that the one west of town was the most likely. But when he’d found it deserted he’d sent word back to Bender with a new rendezvous outside of Fort Concho.
“So you’ll do it?” asked Bender.
Boon nodded, accepting the assignment. They were sending him back to the thieves and murderers. They’d saved him from hanging but now he’d have to do things that turned his stomach.
“Yes, sir.”
“Let me be clear. I want you to take any action necessary to keep that girl alive. I want her back no matter what her condition.”
No matter what her condition. That was what Captain John Bender had told him on that last night before he’d headed out to find Bender’s daughter. Only he hadn’t told him that Laurie was his child.
The memory of the conversation was fresh as if the captain stood right beside them. All the worry roiled within Boon. How far back was Hammer now?
Boon looked into the dark eyes of Laurie Bender and repeated her father’s words verbatim. Laurie gasped when he said “no matter what her condition.” Boon didn’t repeat that the captain had also told Boon that if he tried to run he’d hunt him down. The captain did not make idle threats.
“I told him where Hammer’s camps are. He and his men are nearby. We just got to get out of this here canyon.”
He glanced over the horses’ backs at the trail they had traveled, a path cut by mule deer. How he prayed it didn’t end against a cliff face. He needed to get Laurie home, for he surely did not know h
ow to care for her. The best he could do now was to see her safe and leave her behind.
Boon returned his attention to her face and was cut to ribbons by her sad dark eyes and bruised, swollen cheek.
“They’re still back there, Laurie, and our horses aren’t spent.”
She studied him a moment. “You don’t think we’ll make it, do you?”
Boon sighed. “He’s got more horses.”
Laurie thrust the pistol into the back pocket of her britches, retrieved the reins of her mount.
“But I’ve got you.”
He thought that was poor consolation, but said nothing as he collected the reins of the horses, now busy snatching hanks of the grass that grew beside the river, staining the bits green with their chewing.
“Your father will meet us at the stage station outside of Fort Concho.”
“Why didn’t he come himself?”
Should he tell her? He looked into her dark, earnest eyes. They were nearly the same age, he figured, yet he felt decades older.
“Mr. Boon, please do tell me the truth. I have been sheltered, but I am not faint of heart.”
He nodded, his decision made. Laurie had already proved her mettle last night in the camp and during the long ride. He’d never met a woman who could sit a horse like she had, in the dark, up and down rough trails. “First sign of pursuit, Hammer kills all prisoners and their horses. Your pa knew he couldn’t fetch you alive. I’m sorry he had to send someone like me, Laurie. But he did the best he could. ’Spect that the Rangers wouldn’t have done to you what I did. ’Spect they know how to act around a lady. Guess that’s why I ended up like I have.” He stared at her. Damn, he’d turn a cartwheel if he thought it would cheer her. “We’ll ride along this stream until we get out of this box. Figure the horses might last another few hours.”
She didn’t ask what they would do when the horses were spent. A few hours wouldn’t be enough time to reach the station, but he wouldn’t dare tell her that.
Laurie allowed Boon to help her up, though they both knew she didn’t need it. He was glad for the excuse to touch her again and angry at himself for wanting her so much. Then he vaulted into the saddle and they were off again. The stream grew wider. Dry season was approaching and most streambeds never saw water except for the spring and summer. They were lucky to reach a draw that showed life. But would their luck hold?