Now Jack saw Jesse’s behavior as a phony act to lull him and his mother into complacency, so they wouldn’t interfere when Jesse stole the one thing of true value left on the Flying Diamond. Jack felt like a fool. The more he thought about it, the angrier he got, until there seemed only one course of action open to him. He would catch Jesse Whitelaw red-handed. He would put the deceitful drifter in jail where he would have plenty of time to regret having underestimated a gullible, trusting, thirteen-year-old boy.
Jack had packed an overnight bag and hugged his mom goodbye as though he were spending the night with friends. Instead, he had hidden himself where he could stand guard on the barn. Sure enough, about an hour after his mother left the house with Adam Philips, Jesse Whitelaw had backed a stock trailer up to the barn and let down the ramp.
At first Jack had been tempted to confront the drifter. But even at his age he knew discretion was the better part of valor. He thought about running to the house to call the police, but figured Jesse would be long gone before anyone could block the roads leading from the Flying Diamond.
So while Jesse was in the barn with the bull, Jack had snuck under a tarp lying in the back of the pickup truck pulling the stock trailer. It was all very easy, and Jack was pleased with how clever he had been. Surprisingly, Jesse had taken the bull to the roundup corral on the southern edge of the Lazy S.
Jack knew he ought to go right to his mother with what information he had, but he was afraid she would let Jesse go because of her soppy feelings for the drifter. So while Jesse was unloading the bull into one of the stock pens, Jack left the truck and hid inside a nearby tin-roofed shed, figuring he couldn’t go wrong staying with General. Besides, if he left, the bull might be gone by the time he got back with the authorities.
Jack was nearly discovered when Jesse came inside the shed to get hay for the bull. Apparently the theft had been more well thought out than Jack had realized. To Jack’s dismay, when Jesse left the shed he dropped a wooden bar across the door. Jack was trapped!
His first instinct was to call out. Fear kept him silent. There was no telling what the drifter would do if he knew he had been found out. Jack remained quiet as the truck drove away. Surely Jesse would return soon. All Jack had to do was wait and be sure he got out of the shed undetected when it was opened again.
Jack had spent a long, uncomfortable night on a pile of prickly hay. He had finally fallen asleep in the wee hours of the morning and only wakened when the sun was high in the sky. He was relieved to see through a knothole in the wooden-sided shed that General was still in the stock pen, but he was also confused. Surely someone should have come to collect the bull by now.
All day long, Jack waited expectantly for Jesse to return. It was late afternoon by the time he realized the exchange would likely be made after dark. He was hot and hungry and thirsty and dearly regretted not having called the police when he had first had an inkling of what Jesse intended.
Jack wondered whether his mother had checked up on him and uncovered his lies. He consoled himself with the thought that she wouldn’t really start to worry until after dark. Only the sun had fallen hours ago. Where was she? Why hadn’t anybody come looking for him? Where was Jesse? Where was everybody?
* * *
Jesse hunkered down in the ravine where Dallas was hidden so he wouldn’t be spotted talking to the other Ranger. “Is everything set?” he asked.
“The local police have the entire area covered like a glove,” Dallas reassured him.
“I just hope Adam steps into the trap,” Jesse said.
Dallas shook his head. “He isn’t going to be the one who shows up here tonight. You’ll see. I’d stake my life on it.”
Jesse arched a disbelieving brow. “You’re still sticking by the man, even with all the evidence we have leading to the Lazy S? With all we’ve discovered about how his ranch has floundered lately? With everything we know about how bad Adam Philips’s finances have gotten over the past year?”
Dallas nodded. “I know Adam. He just can’t be involved in something like this. There’s got to be another explanation.”
“For your sake, I hope you’re right,” Jesse said. But he wouldn’t mind if Adam Philips ended up being a villain in Honey’s eyes. Maybe then she would start to see Jesse in a more positive light.
That woman was the most stubborn, bullheaded, downright maddening creature Jesse had ever known. How he had fallen so deeply in love with her was a mystery to him, but the fact was, he had. Now the fool woman was refusing to marry him unless he left the Rangers. Damn her willful hide!
He couldn’t possibly give up an honor he had striven so hard to achieve. Why, the Rangers were an elite group of men. Independent. Fearless. Ruthless when necessary. He was proud to be part of such an historic organization. It was unfair of Honey to ask him to make such a sacrifice.
Yet he could see her side of the issue. Over the weeks he had worked on the Flying Diamond, he had gotten a glimmer of how little time Cale Farrell had devoted to the place. It wasn’t just the roof that needed repair, or a few rotten corral posts that had to be replaced. The whole ranch showed signs of serious neglect.
It was apparent that because of Cale’s commitment to the Rangers, the brunt of the ranch work must have fallen on Honey’s shoulders. Not that they weren’t lovely shoulders, but they weren’t strong enough to support the entire weight of an outfit the size of the Flying Diamond.
Jesse had seen dozens of opportunities where better management—and plain hard work—would have improved the yield of the ranch. The Flying Diamond had land that could be put to use growing feed. Expanded, Honey’s vegetable garden could easily provide for the needs of the ranch. And it wouldn’t be a bad idea to invest in some mohair goats. The money from the mohair harvest could be applied to supporting the cattle end of the ranch.
If he stayed on as a Ranger, Jesse wouldn’t have much time to invest in the ranch. He could expect to be called away on assignments often. Honey would be left to take care of things. As she must have been left for most of her married life, Jesse suddenly realized.
He had never heard Honey complain once about the burden she had carried all these years. And he was only thinking in terms of the ranch. Honey had probably borne most of the responsibility as a parent as well. She had done a good job. Jack and Jonathan were fine boys that any man would be proud to call sons.
Jesse felt a tightness in his chest when he remembered the look he and Jack had shared at the end of the day they had spent working together. Jesse had never known a stronger feeling of satisfaction. He had truly felt close to the boy. It was hard to imagine walking away from Jack and Jonathan. It was impossible to imagine walking away from Honey.
All his life Jesse had somehow managed to have his cake and eat it, too. Honey was asking him to make a choice. He just didn’t know what it was going to be.
Jesse saw the truck lights in the distance and checked the revolver he had stuck in the back of his jeans. It wasn’t particularly easy to get to, but then, he was hoping the show of force by the police would reduce the chance of gunplay. He stood by the corral waiting as the tractor-trailer truck pulled up. The engine remained running. It was Mort Barnes who stepped into the glare of the truck headlights.
Jesse stiffened. He saw his efforts to finally uncover the man in charge going up in smoke. “Where’s your boss?” he demanded.
Mort grinned, though it looked more like a sneer. “I’m the boss.”
“I don’t believe you,” Jesse said flatly.
Mort revealed the automatic weapon in his hand and said, “I’ll take that bull.”
Jesse didn’t hesitate. He threw himself out of the light at the same instant Mort fired. Instead of running for cover, Jesse leapt toward the rustler. Blinded by the headlights, Mort didn’t see Jesse until he had been knocked down and his gun kicked out of his hand, disappearing somewhere in the underbrush.
Moments later, Jesse straddled Mort on the ground, with a viselike grip on
the rustler’s throat and his gun aimed at the rustler’s head. “I told you I’m only going to deal with your boss.”
“Why you—” Mort rasped.
“You can release Mort,” a voice said from the shadows on the other side of the truck, “and drop the gun. I’m here.”
Jesse didn’t recognize the man who stepped into view, his automatic weapon aimed at the center of Jesse’s back. But it wasn’t Adam Philips. Jesse dropped his gun. Then he released Mort and stood to face the newest threat. “Are you the boss of this outfit?”
“I am,” the man said. “I can’t say it’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Whitelaw. Actually, you’ve thrown a bit of a corkscrew into my plans. If you’ll just step over to that shed, we can finish our business.”
“You brought the money?” Jesse asked.
“Oh, no. All deals are off. I’m simply offering you a chance to get out of this alive. Are you going to walk over there peacefully, or not? I’ve already killed once. I assure you I won’t hesitate to do so again.”
Jesse was pretty sure the Boss intended to kill him anyway, but he was counting on Dallas to make sure he got out of this alive. Meanwhile, he had best keep his wits about him. He took his time sliding away the board that held the shed door closed, giving Dallas plenty of time to get everybody into position. Once Jesse was inside the shed and, he hoped, before the Boss man shot him, Dallas would move and it would all be over.
The instant Jesse released the door, a blur of movement shot past him. The escaping body was caught by Mort. Jesse’s blood froze when he saw the gangly teenager the rustler was wrestling into submission.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Jesse rasped.
“Waiting for you!” Jack retorted. “You won’t get away with this, you know. I’ll tell them everything. They’ll catch you, and you’ll go to jail forever.”
“Dammit, Jack, I—”
“Hey!” Jack was eyeing the man holding the gun on Jesse. “I know you! You’re the foreman of the Lazy S. What’re you doing here, Mr. Loomis?”
“Dammit, Jack,” Jesse muttered. Now the fat was in the fire.
“You got any more surprises hidden around here?” Loomis asked Jesse.
“Look, the kid being here is as much a surprise to me as it is to you,” Jesse said.
Jesse closely watched the man Jack had identified as Mr. Loomis and saw his mouth tighten, his eyes narrow. By identifying the Boss and making threats of going to the law, Jack had signed his own death warrant. Jesse forced himself not to glance out into the darkness. Adam’s foreman was suspicious enough already. Dallas would realize that the boy’s presence complicated things and make new plans accordingly.
“Both of you get into the shed,” Loomis said, gesturing with the gun.
Jack spied the gun for the first time, and his eyes slid to Jesse’s, wide with fright.
“It’s all right,” Jesse said in a voice intended to calm the youth. “They’re just going to lock us up in the shed.”
Jesse’s last doubts that Loomis intended killing them both ended when Mort chuckled maliciously and said, “Yeah, you two just mosey on inside.”
Jack struggled against Mort’s hold, and the outlaw slapped him hard. “Quit your belly-achin’ and get movin’.”
Jesse had decided to use the distraction Jack was creating to make a lunge for Loomis’s gun, when a pair of headlights appeared on the horizon.
“I knew it was a trap!” the outlaw snarled. Loomis swung the gun around to aim it at Jack and fired just as Jesse grabbed at his hand, pulling it down.
Jesse grunted as the bullet plowed into his thigh, but he never let go of his hold on Loomis’s wrist. He swung a fist at the foreman’s face and heard a satisfying crunch as it connected with the man’s hooked nose. Loomis managed to fire once more before Jesse wrenched the gun away, but the bullet drove harmlessly into the ground.
Moments later, the area was swarming with local police and Texas Rangers. It soon became apparent to Jack from the way Dallas Masterson greeted Jesse, that the drifter wasn’t going to be arrested by the Texas Rangers because he was one!
“What idiot turned on those headlights?” Jesse demanded. “Damned near got us killed!”
Jesse’s head jerked up when he heard the sound of a woman’s voice beyond the arc of light provided by the semi’s headlights. “Who’s that?”
Dallas grinned. “The idiot who turned on the headlights.”
Jesse only had a second to brace himself before Honey threw herself into his arms. Her eyes were white around the rims with fright. Her whole body was shaking.
“I saw what happened. You saved Jack’s life! I heard shots. Are you hurt?” She pushed herself away to look at him and saw the dark shine of blood on his leg. “My God! You’ve been shot!” She turned to the crowd of men scattered over the area and shouted, “Where’s a doctor? Why haven’t you taken this man to the hospital?”
Jesse pulled her back into his arms. “It’s all right, Honey. It’s just a little flesh wound. I’ll be fine.”
Jack stepped into the light and stood nearby, afraid to approach his mother and the drifter…who wasn’t really a drifter after all.
Honey saw her son and reached out to pull him close. “Are you all right? You’re not hurt?”
“I’m fine,” Jack mumbled, feeling lower than a worm for having caused so much trouble.
“You’re damned lucky not to be dead!” Jesse said.
Jack glared at Jesse. “If you’d just told me the truth in the first place, none of this would have happened. I spent a whole day in that stupid shed for nothing!” He turned to his mother and said, “I’m hungry. Is there anything at home to eat?”
Honey gaped at Jack and then laughed. If her son had started thinking about his stomach, he was going to be just fine.
Dallas had left briefly and now joined them again. “I’ve got a car to take you to the hospital, Jesse.”
“I’ll see you at home, Honey,” Jesse said.
Now that she knew Jesse was all right, Honey forced herself to step away from him. If anything, this episode only proved what she had known all along. She didn’t want to be married to a Texas Ranger. “I’ll let you in to get your things,” she said. “But I expect you to find somewhere else to spend what’s left of the night.”
Jesse didn’t argue, just limped away toward the car Dallas had waiting.
But Jack wasn’t about to let the subject alone. “He saved my life, Mom.”
“I suppose he did.”
“You can’t just throw him out of the house like that.”
“I can and I will.”
“If you want my opinion, I think you’re making a mistake,” Jack said.
“I didn’t ask for your opinion,” Honey said. “Besides, you’ve got a lot to answer for yourself, young man.”
Jack grimaced. “I can explain everything.”
“This I’ve got to hear.”
Angel interrupted to say, “I can give you both a ride home now.”
“Let’s go,” Honey said. She put her arm around Jack and dared him to try to slip out from under it. “It’s been a hectic night. Let’s go home and get some sleep.”
“But I’m hungry!” Jack protested.
“All right. First you eat. Then it’s bed for both of us.”
But hours later—just before dawn—when Jesse Whitelaw returned, Honey was sitting in the kitchen, coffee cup in hand, waiting for him.
TEN
Honey didn’t move when the kitchen door opened, just waited for Jesse to come to her. Her eyes drifted closed when his hands clasped her shoulders. She exhaled with a soughing sigh. He didn’t give her a chance to object, just hauled her out of the chair, turned her into his arms and held her tight.
Honey’s arms slipped around his waist and clutched his shirt. Her nose slipped into the hollow at his throat and she inhaled the sweaty man-scent that was his and his alone. She wanted to remember it when he was gone. And she was going to send him a
way.
“We have to talk,” Jesse whispered in her ear.
Honey gripped him tighter, knowing she had to let him go. “I think I’ve said everything I have to say.”
“I haven’t.” His lips twisted wryly. “I think this is where I’m supposed to sweep you into my arms and carry you off to the bedroom,” he said. “But I don’t think my leg could stand the strain.”
Honey realized all at once how heavily he was leaning on her. “Come sit down,” she said, urging him toward a kitchen chair.
“Let’s find something a little more comfortable,” he said. “Getting up and down is a pain. I’d like to find someplace I can stay awhile.”
She slipped an arm around his waist to support him while he put an arm across her shoulders. Slowly they made their way to the living room, where he levered himself onto the brass-studded leather couch. He winced as she helped him lift both legs and stretch out full-length. She knelt beside him on the polished hardwood floor.
Jesse took one of her hands in both of his and brought it to his lips. He kissed each fingertip and then the palm of her hand. He laid her hand against his cheek, bristly now with a day’s growth of beard, and turned to gaze into her eyes.
“Let me stay here tonight,” he said.
“Jesse, I don’t think—”
“We have to talk, Honey, but I can barely keep my eyes open.”
“You can’t stay here,” she said. If he did, she would be tempted to let him stay another night, and another. Before she knew it, he would be a permanent fixture. “You have to leave,” she insisted.
He smiled wearily. “Sorry. I’m afraid that’s out of the question. Can’t seem to get a muscle to move anywhere.” His eyes drifted closed. “I have some things to say…”
He was asleep.
Honey stared at the beloved face before her and felt her heart wrench in her breast. How could she let him stay? How could she make him go?
She sighed and rose to find a blanket. After all, it was only one night. She would be able to argue with him better once she had gotten some sleep herself.
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