A Ranger for the Holidays (Lone Star Cowboy League)

by Allie Pleiter

  Searle sat back in his chair. “So you’re leaving? Going back to Austin now that you have an address?”

  If only it were that simple. “I don’t know yet.” For starters, he didn’t have a car, and there was no way Finn was leaving Little Horn with this business of Boone unsettled. And then there was Amelia. He still had no idea what to do about her and what to tell her—if he told her anything.

  “Do you remember Belinda and Annie yet? Anything from your life as a Ranger?”

  Finn wiped his hands down his face. “I get bits of things—more like impressions than anything I’d call a memory. But no. I look at those photos and they’re strangers. I have to go back, Doc. I’m pretty sure it’s the only way.”

  “You don’t sound eager to go home.”

  Finn scratched his chin. “I’m pretty sure it’s gonna be awful when it all comes back to me. Much as I hate the numbness, part of me is grateful for it, you know?”

  “All the more reason I wish you’d talk to someone. It doesn’t even have to someone from your old Company at Waco. It can be someone from the headquarters office right there in Austin.”

  Finn didn’t see how baring his soul for dissection by some total stranger was going to do him any good. “It’s not like the facts are going to change. My family is gone. I don’t remember them. And when I do, they’ll still be gone.”

  “Have you considered staying in Little Horn for a while? You have friends here, friends you may need as you work through this. Even under the best of circumstances, the holidays can be rough with a recent loss, much less one the size of yours.” Searle leaned in. “I’m speaking as a friend now, not a neurologist. I wish you’d stay.”

  It never ceased to amaze Finn how quickly people in Little Horn called him friend. Even Carson Thorn, whom Finn had met all of twice, greeted him as if they were longtime buddies. It would be so easy to hide from his past in a place like this, but Finn knew it wouldn’t solve anything.

  “Thanks for that, but my life isn’t here. I think the only thing I can do is go back to Austin and try to dig up whatever is left of my life and go on.”

  Dr. Searle frowned—Finn hadn’t succeeded in hiding the hopelessness that proposition gave him. Finn couldn’t remember exactly what was waiting for him back in Austin, but it didn’t take a genius to know it was empty compared to his last few weeks in Little Horn.

  Finn stood and picked up the set of final papers Searle had laid out for him. “If it counts for anything, my memories of Little Horn will be good ones. And hey, that’s not such a bad thing right now, since they’re my only memories, huh?”

  The doctor stood and offered a hand. “Take care of yourself, Finn. God be with you.”

  Finn only nodded. If God was going to follow him back to Austin, Finn wasn’t sure the Almighty would like what He found.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The afternoon came and went without Finn’s return. “The man has barely been alone since you found him,” Gramps offered to Amelia’s rising concerns. “He’s probably just taking some time to sort things out.”

  Even Gramps’s consolation, however, wore thin as the afternoon turned to evening, and supper held an empty place at the table. Just as she was clearing the plates, the phone rang and Amelia jumped to answer it.

  “Amelia?”

  “Finn?” She was a bit shocked—but not unhappy—to hear his voice. “Are you all right?”

  “I got my accounts straightened out at the bank and replaced my cell phone. It took a while longer than I thought.”

  He was putting the pieces of his life back together. She shouldn’t be surprised, but the evidence of his leaving her dropped into her stomach like a ball of ice. “That’s okay,” she said, hating how the words sounded exactly like what she would say to Rafe when he called her to tell her he’d have to postpone a date.

  She had to ask, “Where are you?”

  He hesitated to answer, which told Amelia more than his words. “I’m in Austin.”

  “Austin?” The city was nearly two hours away. Why had he gone so far?

  “I promise to refill your gas tank but I...I had some things I had to do.”

  She felt as if she could feel him leaving even now, hear his voice slipping farther away through the phone connection. “Are you all right?” she asked again, realizing he hadn’t answered her the first time.

  “I’m going to be a while longer. I just wanted you to know that.”

  So many times she’d heard that—or something just like it—from Rafe. The familiarity ran cold down her back and cut sharp edges into her words. “Thank you.”

  He must have heard the change in her tone, for she could hear him him push out a breath. In her imagination she could see him putting one hand over his eyes the way he did when frustrated or overwhelmed. “I am coming back, Amelia.”

  Of course he had to come back—he had to return her car. But whatever had been pulled tight between them all afternoon had just snapped, and she felt the distance growing already. He might be returning, but not for long. She pulled in a steadying breath. “Take whatever time you need but, Finn, we need to talk when you get here.”

  “I know. I owe you that. And I’m going to try to be ready.” There was a long pause before he said, “Say a few prayers for me, will you?”

  If there was any request that could break her heart a little more, he’d just made it. Amelia realized, as she blinked back tears, that she’d fallen head over heels for Finn and was going to have to watch him walk out of her life. Oh, Father, I’m not sure I have it in me. She gave the most truthful answer she could. “How about I pray for both of us?”

  Gramps, who had been rinsing dishes at the counter, stood still and stared at her.

  “You do that. I shouldn’t be too much longer.”

  Amelia had always wondered what it would feel like to wait up as Rafe’s wife, dozing in a chair and saying prayers until the garage door opened and the man she cared about returned home to safety. Somehow she knew tonight would be her only time to keep such a vigil. Maybe it was a fitting goodbye after all. “Just be safe.”

  Finn clicked off the connection, and Amelia stared at the phone in her hands for a moment, the dial tone of the ended call sounding like a lonesome echo.

  “Darlin’?” Gramps asked softly, a tender concern in his eyes.

  “This is what Rangers do, isn’t it?” Amelia said as she put the phone back in place. “Disappear for long stretches with no word? I should be used to it by now.”

  Grandpa sighed and opened the sink drain to let the water out. “So he did finally tell you. He knew you’d be hurt by it. He was trying to find a way to tell you.” Gramps picked up his cane from where it was leaning against the kitchen counter and walked over to her. “He’s hung up something fierce on you, you know that? And don’t think I don’t know you’re hung up something fierce on him. I was young once, too, remember? I ain’t so old that I’ve forgotten what that looks like.”

  The Christmas carol kitchen clock—one of Amelia’s favorite decorations—chimed eight o’clock, which for this clock meant a music-box version of “Away in a Manger.” It brought back the stormy blue torment in Finn’s eyes that night at the food-truck court. Those eyes that could show so much light and shadow at the same time. “What does that change, Gramps? He’s been to his home now. He’s putting his old life back together, with all the people in it.” Amelia felt a surprising pang of jealousy for B, whomever she was. Still, if B was important to him, why was he hesitating to return home? Where were all the people waiting to welcome the long-lost Finn Brannigan back into their lives?

  “Are you sure?” Grandpa put one hand in his pocket, jingling his change the way he always did when thinking. “Didn’t you tell me Finn said he felt as if he was a very lonely man in his old life?”

  “I know he said that, but...”

  “So would a man with a family so glad to have him return be calling to tell you he’ll be back?”

  Gramps had a p
oint. “Who is ‘B’ and where is she?”

  “I don’t know. Seems to me that’s something you’ll have to ask Finn when he comes here.”

  Amelia leaned back against the counter. “There are a lot of things I have to ask Finn when he gets here.”

  “Oh, I agree.” He pulled Amelia into a gentle hug. “But will you take an old man’s advice?”

  “Sure, Gramps.” Even at thirty, she could become a little girl in Gramps’s arms, wanting him to “make it all better.”

  “With all the facts you get out of that man, make sure to ask how he feels about you. Some things are just as important as facts—maybe even more important, if you ask me.”

  * * *

  Finn sat behind the wheel at the intersection of the highway that led into Little Horn, feeling stripped out and hollow. He’d been to the Austin address listed as his apartment and found it a bare, dark maze of rooms—a lifeless box compared to the cluttered joy of Amelia’s home. After an hour, he’d had to leave his own home; suffocated by the vaguely familiar yet foreign emptiness of the place.

  Now he sat at the turn into Little Horn, trying to make his hand flip the turn signal on, summoning up the will to pull Amelia’s car back into her driveway and put an end to his stay in Little Horn. He hadn’t lied to Amelia—he was coming back—he just couldn’t come back to stay. Not when he couldn’t give her what she wanted, what she deserved. Instead, he found himself sitting on the shoulder of the intersection, watching all the ordinary cars go about their happy holiday tasks.

  He touched the sparkly little Christmas stocking that swung from Amelia’s rearview mirror and smiled. Even her car didn’t escape decoration. A tractor trailer went by all lit up with holiday lights—right down to the lighted Christmas wreath on the front grill. Don’t let Amelia see that, he thought to himself. She’ll want one of her own. The annoyance he’d felt with such decorations had subsided lately, replaced by the first hints of a warm association as every tree, star or bulb reminded him of something from Amelia’s house.

  A black pickup pulled into the intersection behind the semi, Finn’s senses coming to full alert as he noticed a familiar scrape on the passenger side. Boone had to have known what he’d done—didn’t the guy have smarts enough fix the dent and remove the evidence? Furthermore, Lizzie had told Amelia she and Boone were going to that premarital workshop at their church tonight—what was he doing pulling out of town instead?

  It wasn’t really a clear decision—more like a suspicious hunch than anything else—that made Finn flick the turn signal the other direction and follow the truck outside of town. The process came back to him like an old habit—follow two or three cars back, stay unobtrusive, don’t do anything to arouse suspicion. When Boone’s truck pulled into an open field, Finn killed the lights on Amelia’s car and watched from the far corner. Boone backed the truck up to a rotted old barn, walked inside for a few moments and then returned to restart the engine with its familiar loud growl. Seconds later the truck pulled away from the barn to reveal a livestock trailer now attached.

  Nobody moves livestock at night, Finn realized, unless they’d rather not be seen. Unless they aren’t supposed to be moving livestock at all.

  When he saw movement in the trailer, he didn’t need any further facts. No one kept cattle in a trailer in a run-down barn in the middle of nowhere unless they were hiding them. Finn twisted the ignition keys, sending the car into life to race down the road and cut off the gravel drive where Boone’s truck was headed.

  Finn got out of the car to stand in the truck’s oncoming headlights, squinting as the glare blinded his eyes. The truck ground to a stop just in front of him and gunned its engine, a black metal predator rumbling in menace. The truck inched forward a foot or two with another gun of the engine, a clear signal to get out of the way.

  Finn stood his ground. With the trailer fixed behind, the truck didn’t have enough room to turn off the gravel road into the fields. He waited for the flash of panic to return, the bolt of fear that had run through him the first time he’d seen the truck. The scene replayed in his head, but without the pounding pulse of the earlier recurrence. Now Finn felt his chest fill with a lawman’s cold, clear determination. “Get out of the truck, Boone,” he shouted.

  No answer came from the darkened windows of the cab.

  Finn reached into his pocket and pulled out the silver star of a badge he’d retrieved from his dresser drawer back at the apartment. It glinted in the headlights as the low moan of anxious cattle rose up from the trailer. “I said get out of the truck, Boone.” Just because Boone Lawton seemed like the kind of guy who’d try anything, Finn added, “And keep your hands where I can see them, if you please.”

  The forced calm with which Boone climbed out of the truck was almost comical. As if they’d met in the line at the grocery store. “Hey there, Finn. Whatcha doin’ all the way out here?”

  “I should ask you the same question. I thought you were at church tonight with Lizzie.”

  Boone tossed his head back toward the trailer, his shaggy hair falling into his eyes. “Last-minute job. You know, needing extra money for the wedding and all.”

  This guy really couldn’t be smart enough to pull off all those rustling jobs, could he? Or was the dumb-ranch-hand persona all an act? “Really? Who’d need cattle moved out here? At this hour?”

  Boone’s laugh was high and tight. “Hey, look, man—I’m just doing my job here. I don’t need you poking your nose into my business. Since when are you with the Rangers anyhow?”

  Technically, Finn was on leave from the force, but Boone didn’t need to know that. Nor did he need to know Finn was unarmed. The way Boone kept staring at the badge, the silver star was all the weapon Finn needed. He didn’t bother answering Boone’s question. “Where’d the cattle come from?”

  “What’s it to you?”

  “Could be a lot to me, seeing as how so many things have gone missing in Little Horn lately. Seeing as how your truck has a scrape on the passenger-side door that feels highly familiar.”

  Boone sat back on one hip and stuck his hands into his back pockets. “I thought you don’t remember nothing.”

  “How do you know what I remember?” Finn started walking around to the far side of the truck. “Could be I remember a lot of things. Could be I remember where this scrape came from.” With a surprising, almost eerie calm, Finn ran his finger down the dent in the door.

  Boone came around to stand in front of him, his hand protectively on the truck. “You came out of nowhere, man. I didn’t even see you before it was too late. I didn’t know you were hurt bad. I didn’t even know who you were.”

  “I know the feeling,” Finn said. “I didn’t know who I was when I woke up, either.”

  Boone put his hands up. “Okay, that was weird. I mean, I never meant for all that to happen. I was just thinking with all this rustling going on, everybody would assume it was the bandit guy. He’s hitting all the rich ranchers, so why not make a few bucks on the little guys while everyone’s back is turned? So I took a few head of cattle once or twice and sold ’em out of town. Who’d miss it in all the fuss, right?”

  He wasn’t the Robin Hood rustler? That made a sad sort of sense.

  “I’m sorry, okay? We can get past this, right?” Boone’s words were speeding up as he paced on the gravel. “It’s just you and me here, and we can just forget all this happened. Hey, I’ll even put these cows back if that’ll make you happy. No one else needs to know.”

  This guy really was a piece of work. Lizzie needed to learn what bad news Boone Lawton was, and fast. Amelia could help her little sister realize how broken engagements were a lot less messy than broken marriages. “Hand over the keys to the truck and get into this car with me.”

  That got Boone’s attention. “Not on your life.”

  Finn opened the door and began climbing up into the truck cab to retrieve the keys, still dangling from the ignition.

  Boone grabbed his arm. “Get ou
t of my truck!”

  Finn felt his still-healing shoulder burn with pain but twisted his arm out of Boone’s grasp. With a speed and agility his body seemed to remember without thinking, Finn flipped in the truck seat and sent his bootheel hard onto the bridge of Boone’s nose. Boone tipped back with a sickening crunch as his hands went up to the blood gushing from his nose. He staggered for a moment, letting out a string of curses from behind his seeping hands. It gave Finn just enough time to pull his own belt from his jeans and wrestle Boone’s arms behind him as he shoved the young man up against his own truck.

  “Fine,” Finn said as he pulled the buckle tight around Boone’s writsts and looped the leather around itself several times. “We’ll take yours. I wouldn’t want you to bleed all over Amelia’s car anyhow.” He found Boone’s cell phone in the truck console and flipped it open. Sure enough, Lizzie’s name was at the top of the Recent Calls list. He pulled up the number and held it to Boone’s ear even as blood still streamed down the man’s face. “Tell Lizzie to meet you at Amelia’s in twenty minutes.”

  “No way.” Boone spit blood out of his mouth. “You’re crazy.”

  Finn reared up his elbow and poised it just in front of Boone’s surely broken nose. “As a matter of fact, my brain’s working just fine at the moment. Now talk.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Amelia pulled open the door to see Lizzie’s panicked scowl. “What’s happened?” she cried. “Why am I supposed to meet Boone here? Did you say something to him?”

  “Your call was the first I’d heard of this,” Amelia replied as Lizzie pushed past her. “I don’t know anything more than you do.”‘

  Lizzie flung her coat over a living room chair and stalked back toward the kitchen. “I put on some coffee,” Amelia called after her, hoping to soften her sister’s prickly composure. Whatever was happening, it had the makings of a long night.