A Ranger Named Rowdy

by James J. Griffin

  A Ranger Named Rowdy

  A Tim Bannon Texas Ranger Christmas Story

  The Blizzard

  by

  James J. Griffin

  *****

  Published by High Noon Press

  Copyright 2014 James J. Griffin

  Smashwords Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, please return to Smashwords and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This book is a work of fiction. The

  names, characters, places, and incidents are products of

  the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and

  are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to

  persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or

  organizations is entirely coincidental.

  *****

  1

  Melinda Bannon tried to ignore the commotion coming from her six year old son Billy’s bedroom. She instead forced herself to concentrate on the pies she was baking. After all, Billy was only playing with his dad, Melinda’s husband Texas Ranger Tim Bannon. With Tim away from home so much, any time he had with his family was precious. So what did it matter if they were tearing Billy’s room apart with their horseplay and wrestling? It could always be straightened out and put back together. And Christmas was coming soon. The holidays always put joy in Melinda’s heart.

  However, the sounds of her son’s and husband’s battling kept becoming louder, more intense.

  “I got ya, Billy!” she heard Tim exclaim. “Ya give up?”

  “Yeah. Yeah, Dad,” Billy said, gasping. “Lemme up, will ya?”

  There was a moment of silence, then the battle started again.

  “Oof!” Tim said. “Take it a bit easy, Billy. My belly can’t take much more. You’re gettin’ way too heavy to be bouncin’ on it. You’re gonna squish all my guts out.”

  “Not until you admit I’m winnin’ this time, Dad!” Billy retorted. That was followed by a horrendous crash. Melinda dropped the towel she held and hurried to Billy’s room. Tim and Billy were in the middle of the wreckage of Billy’s collapsed bed. Tim was lying on his back, with Billy sitting on his stomach. Both were sweat soaked and gasping for breath.

  Melinda stood in the doorway, glaring at them, her hands on her hips.

  “William Bannon! Look at what you’ve done! And Timothy Bannon! You’re old enough to know better. At least Billy has an excuse, he’s just a boy. You’re a grown man. You should have more sense than to let your roughhousing ruin my house and destroy our furniture. Honestly, I don’t know what to do with you!”

  Tim smiled up at her from flat on his back.

  “I’ve got a couple of ideas,” he said, his blue eyes glinting mischievously.

  “Tim!” Melinda blushed. “Never you mind. Just get to work and fix this mess.”

  “All right, darlin’,” Tim answered. He shoved Billy aside and stood up. “We were just havin’ some fun. Don’t get all that many chances, with me bein’ gone so much. Bed slats gave way is all. We’ll have everything put back together in a jiffy.”

  “You’d better,” Melinda warned. “Supper will be ready soon. Once you clean up in here, it’ll be time for both of you to wash up.”

  Melinda returned to the kitchen. A few moments later, instead of the sounds of Billy’s room being straightened up, she once again heard Billy and Tim wrestling, grunting and shouting as they struggled. She started to head back to Billy’s room, but stopped and sighed. Tim was right. He needed this time with his son. And there was no real damage done. The bed would be put back together, the room straightened up. With a smile playing across her face, Melinda slid the apple pies into the oven.

  ***

  Later that evening, with Billy long since sound asleep, Melinda and Tim were also preparing to retire for the night. They had said their evening prayers and Melinda had already slipped under the covers. She watched Tim as he undressed, then slid alongside her. He leaned over, kissed her, and whispered in her ear.

  “Remember this afternoon, when you scolded me and Billy for breaking his bed?”

  “How could I forget that? You two certainly raised a ruckus. I thought the ceiling was going to fall in.”

  “Remember you said you didn’t know what to do with me, and I said I had a couple of ideas?”

  “I certainly do. Are you saying?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying.” Tim crushed Melinda’s body to his. “Let’s raise a ruckus of our own.”

  “What if our bed breaks?”

  “There’s only one way to find out, isn’t there?”

  2

  Early the next morning Tim and Billy were outside, gathering a load of firewood for the stove. Tim stopped and turned at the sound of an approaching horse and rider. He watched until they came into view. A few moments later, a young Ranger, Tate Slocum, rode up and reined in his grulla gelding.

  “Howdy, Tim,” he called out. “Hello, Billy.”

  “Howdy yourself, Tate,” Tim answered. “What brings you out here… as if I didn’t already know.”

  “That’s right. Captain Strong needs to see you quick as you can get to Headquarters. I reckon that means he’s got a job which can’t wait.”

  Tim muttered a mild curse under his breath, soft enough so Billy couldn’t hear. “I should have known. Christmas is comin’, and the Cap’n probably wants to send me chasin’ some renegades across most of Texas.”

  Melinda had heard Tate’s approach and came onto the porch.

  “Mornin’, Miz Bannon.” Tate tipped his hat to her.

  “Good morning, Tate. Did I hear you say Captain Strong has orders for Tim?”

  “You did indeed, ma’am. The Cap’n said it’s a real important assignment. Wants Tim at Headquarters right away.”

  “Well, there’s no assignment so important it can’t wait a few minutes so you can come inside and warm up.”

  “Uh-uh, ma’am. The Cap’n said I was to fetch Tim and get right back.”

  “Stuff and nonsense,” Melinda answered. “There’s hot coffee on the stove, and I just took biscuits out of the oven. I’ve got freshly churned butter and a crock of honey to go with those. You’ll get off your horse and come inside for some breakfast, Tate. You look half-frozen. You don’t want to catch your death. And those are my orders.”

  “No sense in arguin’ with her, Tate. You can’t win,” Tim said, with a laugh. “Turn Buddy into the corral and I’ll toss him some hay, then we’ll head inside.”

  “All right,” Tate said. “I have to admit, good hot coffee and warm biscuits sure sounds good.”

  “Then that’s settled,” Melinda said. “Billy, you come help me set the table while your father helps Tate care for his horse. Tim, I’ll pack some food for you and Tate to take along. If I know Captain Strong, you’ll be leaving straight out. Just have him get word to me where you’re headed.”

  “All right, Mom,” Billy said. He picked up an armload of firewood and started for the house.

  “C’mon, Tate, let’s get your horse settled, then we can eat,” Tim ordered.

  ***

  Melinda insisted Tim and Tate not leave on empty stomachs, so her coffee and biscuits turned into the second full-blown breakfast of the day. By the time everyone finished ham, bacon, eggs, hotcakes, and of course the biscuits and honey, all washed down with plenty of hot, strong black coffee, with milk for Billy, over an hour had passed. It took Ti
m another thirty minutes to gather and pack the gear he would need for his trip, since he had no idea where he was heading nor how long he might be gone. He knew one thing, though. No matter what, he would be home for Christmas.

  Tate waited impatiently while Tim made his goodbyes. Tim kissed Billy and tousled his hair, then held Melinda in a long, lingering hug. He mounted, then leaned over in the saddle to give her yet another lengthy kiss. When Tate discreetly coughed, Tim finally, and reluctantly, ended their embrace.

  “Reckon we’d better hit the trail, Rowdy,” he said to his horse. “Billy, you behave, and help your Mom as best you can. Honey, I’ll have Cap’n Strong get word to you on where I’m headed and when I should be home. And don’t fret. I’ll be just fine. And back in plenty of time for Christmas.”

  “All right, Tim. But be careful,” Melinda urged. She didn’t need to add that despite Tim’s request, she would worry until he returned. She also knew when Tim was on the trail of renegades, he would pay no heed to her warning to be careful. Part of a Ranger’s job was to take whatever chances necessary to capture his quarry.

  “Tippy’ll help Mom out too, Dad,” Billy said. Tippy barked as if in agreement. Tim chuckled.

  “I’m sure he will, by eatin’ everything he can get his teeth on. Guess I’ve stalled long as I can. Bye, Billy. Bye, Melinda. I’ll be back home with you before you even realize I’ve been gone.” He kicked Rowdy into a slow jogtrot. Billy and Melinda watched until Tim and Tate rode out of sight, then headed back into the house, driven there by the frigid cold which had descended on most of Texas.

  3

  Captain Nathaniel Strong had been pacing the floor of his office for the better part of an hour when Tim and Tate strode in. The captain was built like a bulldog, stocky and muscular. He had dark brown, almost black, hair, and a bushy mustache to match. His brown eyes fixed them with a steady glare.

  “Bannon! ‘Bout time you got here,” he said. “And Tate, why didn’t you hustle him along? I told you I needed Tim here right quick. We’ve lost half the morning. Don’t bother to answer,” he said, when Tate started to reply. “Lemme guess. Mrs. Bannon wouldn’t let you leave until she filled both of your bellies.”

  “That’s right, Cap’n,” Tate answered.

  “Good mornin’, Cap’n, and it sure is,” Tim added. “Don’t worry, she sent along a batch of biscuits for you. Just made.” He passed Strong the sack he held.

  “That’s more like it,” Strong said. “Coffee’s on the stove. Shed your coats, pour yourselves a cup and take a chair. We’ve got a lot to go over and not much time to do it in. You’ve got a train to catch.”

  “That sure sounds good,” Tim said. “It’s pretty chilly out there. I’d bet the temperature’s barely above freezin’.”

  “If it’s all the same to you, Cap’n, I’d like to settle Buddy in his stall and hit my bunk,” Tate said. “I’ve been ridin’ since just after sunup. Wouldn’t mind catchin’ a little more shut-eye.”

  “No, Tate, you stay,” Strong ordered. “You’ll be accompanying Tim on this assignment. You’ll be able to get some sleep on the train.”

  “You mean that, Cap’n?” Tate asked, in surprise.

  “Wouldn’t have said it otherwise,” Strong replied.

  “All right then,” Tate said. He and Tim took tin mugs from the shelf over the stove, then filled them with strong black coffee from the battered pot Strong always kept hot on the stove, no matter what the weather, frigid or steaming. They both took chairs from the corner, reversed them, and straddled them. Strong sat behind his old and scarred oak desk. He and Tate rolled and lit cigarettes. Strong took a long drag on his, exhaled a large puff of smoke, picked up some papers from his desk, and passed one of the sheets to Tim.

  “Tim, that’s a request from Sheriff Boyd Little of Hudspeth County. He’s got a situation on his hands, and is afraid it’s about to boil over into a full blown range war. That’s somethin’ nobody wants. As you can see, he’s askin’ for Ranger assistance.”

  Tim skimmed over the letter’s contents, then handed it back to Strong.

  “Hudspeth County? That’s close to five hundred miles from here, mebbe a little better’n that,” Tim said. “Why not just have some men sent from El Paso? That’s a lot closer than Austin.”

  “Two reasons. One, there’s the usual border trouble down that way, so there’s no Rangers in El Paso to spare,” Strong answered. “Two, and more importantly, mainly it’s because both the men involved in this dispute have political connections. I’m not certain one or both of them might have some influence on the Rangers already there, too. Also, with those connections, either of them might be able to bring pressure on the Rangers. I want men they aren’t familiar with, men I can absolutely trust. I know you, Tim, and you won’t bend to any man who’s not in the right, rich and powerful or not. And that’s why I’m sending Tate with you. I don’t want you to try and handle this situation on your own. Tate needs more seasoning, and a job like this will be just the experience he needs. In addition, Tim, I know you’ll provide the kind of guidance which will help Tate along. I have a feeling he’s gonna be just the kind of Ranger you are.”

  “If we both live long enough,” Tim said, with a rueful laugh.

  “Mebbe you’d better explain a bit about this job to me, Cap’n,” Tate said.

  “I’m just about to do that,” Strong answered. “It seems there’s two large landowners who have neighboring spreads just outside Sierra Blanca. One’s an hombre name of Earl Tuttle, the other is a Diego Santos.”

  “Anglo and Mexican. There’s a recipe for trouble already,” Tate observed.

  “That’s right. You catch on fast,” Strong answered. “From what Sheriff Little says, Tuttle runs mainly cattle and tries to raise a few dryland crops, while Santos also runs a good sized bunch of cattle, but also some sheep and goats besides.”

  “Sheep and cattle. More trouble,” Tate muttered.

  “Again, that’s right,” Strong said. “Apparently Tuttle and Santos have been feudin’ for quite some time now, not only over the boundaries of their land, but also water rights. Tuttle’s family settled there not long after the War, while Santos’ kin have been in the area for a hundred and fifty years or more. They have an old Spanish land grant, and managed to prevail in court, unlike so many of the long-time Mexican families who lost their lands, some rightfully, others to crooked judges and politicians. The only question, it appears, is where the boundary lies, and who owns the creek which meanders back and forth across both ranches. Here, take a look at this map and you’ll see what I mean.”

  Strong slid a map across his desk. Tim and Tate both studied it for a few moments.

  “Seems to me the way that creek winds both men have rights to it,” Tim said.

  “That’s the way it appears to me also,” Strong replied.

  “Seems kind of an odd time of year to be fightin’ over water,” Tate said. “Usually these kind of arguments crop up durin’ the dry season, or a drought.”

  “That’s true,” Tate agreed. “But this dispute’s been simmerin’ for quite some time now, and Sheriff Little thinks it’s about to come to a head. It’s gonna be up to you and Tim to stop it before it goes any farther.”

  Tim took a long swallow of his coffee.

  “I’m sorry, Cap’n, but if it’s all the same to you I’d like to pass on this assignment. I missed spendin’ last Christmas with Melinda and Billy, and the Christmas before that, too. I promised ‘em I’d be home for Christmas this time, no matter what. I’m spending it with my wife and boy. You’re gonna have to find another man for this job. I’m certain there’s gotta be at least one Ranger in El Paso who you can trust to take this on. I’m goin’ home.”

  Strong shook his head.

  “Just stay put, Ranger. I’m sorry, but there’s no one else. This isn’t a request, it’s an order. The job is yours, like it or not. As I already mentioned, the situation is a powder keg ready to explode, with some dynamite thrown in
for good measure. So far, there’s been some outbuildings burned, fences cut, cattle and sheep run off, and a few fights. But luckily nobody’s been shot or killed… yet. If things do blow up, it’s liable to turn into more than just a range war, which would be bad enough. With Tuttle bein’ an Anglo and Santos Mexican, real trouble could break out through that whole territory. I don’t need to tell you there’s been hard feelings between Anglos and Mexicans for years.”

  “So you’re givin’ me no choice, Cap’n.”

  “That’s right, I’m not. Besides, you’ll still be home in plenty of time for Christmas. I’ve arranged passage for both of you and your horses on the Texas and Pacific’s westbound for El Paso out of Fort Worth tomorrow morning. You’ve also got tickets on the local leaving for Fort Worth in just about an hour. Unfortunately it was too late to make connections to any westbound train today, so you’ll have to spend the night in Fort Worth. You’ll catch tomorrow’s train and be in Sierra Blanca the next day. I figure you can meet with Sheriff Little tomorrow afternoon or evening, get any more information he has for you, then arrange meetings with Tuttle and Santos and get this whole situation settled. I’d imagine it’ll only take a couple of days, three tops, and you’ll have everything under control. Then you catch a train back to Fort Worth, hop the local to Austin, and you’ll be home in plenty of time to spend Christmas with your family.”

  “Let’s hope it’s that easy,” Tim said.

  “I’m countin’ on you makin’ it that easy,” Strong replied. “And who knows? Mebbe a little of the Christmas spirit will rub off on Tuttle and Santos.”

  “Or else everything will blow up right in our faces,” Tate said.

  “That could happen,” Strong conceded. “Let’s hope it doesn’t.”

  “It won’t if I can help it,” Tim said. “I’m gonna make Tuttle and Santos see the light, even if I have to knock some heads together to do it. They’re not gonna keep me away from home for Christmas. Bet your hat on it, Cap’n.”