The Marshalls Boxed Set (Texas Heroes: The Marshalls Books 1-3)

by Jean Brashear

  She rolled her head to work out the kinks in her neck and saw Case moving his shoulder, too. She winced. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep. You shouldn’t have let me hurt your shoulder.”

  “It’s not hurt, just stiff. And you needed the rest.”

  “You probably do, too. When’s the last time you slept?”

  “I’ll sleep later.” His tone brooked no argument.

  She saw Wiley’s eyes crinkle at the corners as if he wanted to laugh. He pointed to both sides of the road and gestured to the bluffs in the distance. “This here is the Flying M, Sammie.” Pride filled his voice, his love for the land obvious.

  Sammie took in the vista before her, harsh yet strangely beautiful. Mesquites dotted the landscape. The bluffs in the distance were striated with bands of cream, gold, and terra cotta. The red dirt glowed in the sunlight.

  Ahead to the right was a large clump of trees, and she could make out the outlines of several barns and outbuildings. The air seemed cleaner, somehow, and even in the heat of midday, there was a crispness which she found invigorating.

  She had this sense of…possibility. For the first time she understood why the pioneers kept pushing west, away from the crowded cities.

  She noticed Case watching her and smiled. “It’s beautiful.”

  He looked surprised. Maybe gratified. “You think so?” He looked around, too, as if he were seeing it anew.

  The white frame house came into view. “Oh, Case, it’s lovely.” Two stories high, the entire house was encircled by a wide porch. Though Sammie saw nothing like the formal landscaping or lush greenery she would see in New Orleans, the house was perfectly in tune with its setting. Near the front door, a porch swing hung. On the other side sat two wooden chairs with thick cushions. The porch itself was so deep that the inside of the house would probably stay cool even in the heat of summer. Big windows stood open, letting the cooling wind blow through.

  The trees were few in number, but a large one shaded the west side of the house from the harsh sun, and lacy mesquites spread out in all directions. A windmill churned behind the house, and beyond that she spotted corrals.

  As they rolled to a stop in front of the house, two small children came running around from the side. A tiny older woman with an apron over her jeans opened the front door. She stepped out onto the porch, shading her eyes as she walked down the steps. When she saw Case, she opened her arms for a hug. Sammie couldn’t repress a smile at the sight of the tall Case almost bent over double hugging the woman whose arms barely reached around his back. They lingered there, her talking a mile a minute in his ear.

  “Linnie Mae’s always felt like Case was her boy, especially since his own mama died when he was young,” Wiley observed. “She fusses over him like a mama hen, and he puts up with her meddling pretty well. He knows there’s nothing she wouldn’t do for him.”

  Sammie tried not to be nervous when Case walked over to her with his arm around the small woman’s shoulders. “Linnie Mae, I’d like you to meet Sammie St. Claire.”

  Linnie Mae’s light gray eyes avidly searched Sammie’s face, but she smiled, saying, “Welcome to the Flying M, Sammie. We’re glad to have you here.”

  “Thank you very much, Mrs. Cantrell. I appreciate your hospitality.”

  “Case! Case!” Two wriggling children competed for his attention, a boy of about three or four and a girl a year or two older—Sammie wasn’t sure. She hadn’t spent much time around kids. Her younger sisters were both married, but neither had children yet.

  The boy’s arm wrapped around Case’s right leg as he stood wedged between Case and Linnie Mae. He looked up at her shyly out of soft brown eyes, solemnly watching with the thumb of his other hand in his mouth. His sister pulled at Case’s left hand, begging for his attention.

  “Case, Case, who’s the pretty lady? How come her clothes are all dirty?”

  Sammie brushed at her skirt, mortified to have forgotten how she must look.

  “Jennifer, mind your manners,” Linnie Mae scolded.

  The little girl’s face fell.

  Case glanced at Sammie as if asking what explanation she wanted.

  Sammie spoke up. “I, um, had a little accident. I don’t have a change of clothes because my car wouldn’t start anymore, and I had to leave it behind. My suitcase was in there.”

  Case dropped into a crouch to look in the girl’s eyes. “This pretty lady’s name is Sammie, Jennifer, and we’re going to help her out.” He hoisted the boy onto his shoulders, then stood, reclaiming the little girl’s hand.

  “I’m sorry you got hurt,” Jennifer said.

  “Thank you. I’m very grateful that Case came to my rescue.”

  The children fastened their eyes on Case again. The boy’s free hand patted Case’s hair. His sister was obviously impressed. “Case, you’re a hero! I’m gonna go to tell Ralph you saved the pretty lady.” Whirling, she took off for the back of the house.

  Her brother’s legs pumped madly on Case’s chest as he wriggled to get down and follow. Case lifted him off his shoulders and set him on the ground, removing the boy’s thumb before he patted him on the rear and let him go. “You’d better hustle if you’re gonna catch up.”

  David took off at a run, chubby legs pumping. “Jennifer, wait, Jennifer, wait for me-ee,” his mournful howl sounded.

  “Those two…” Wiley shook his head with a fond grin. “In case you couldn’t tell, they’re our grandchildren,” he explained.

  “What am I thinking of?” Linnie Mae said. “You both must be exhausted. I waited dinner for you.” She grasped Sammie’s arm. “Come on in out of the heat before you burn that pretty skin of yours.” She didn’t wait for Case and Wiley to follow.

  “Another chick to brood over.” Wiley laughed and slapped Case on the back. “Come on in, or I’ll eat your share.”

  Case chuckled and followed him inside.

  The meal was a noisy, happy time. Sammie learned that in ranch country, they called the noon meal dinner and the evening meal was called supper; lunch was a city word. The size of the meal surprised her, but she reasoned that the people eating it were doing hard physical labor and needed more fuel than someone sitting at a desk all day. She tried to keep the names straight as she looked around the big oval table.

  Linnie Mae seated her next to Case. Jennifer promptly claimed the spot next to Sammie. David sat beside his sister, perched on a little box to raise him up to table height. On his other side sat his grandfather. Linnie Mae was beside Wiley, and the only permanent ranch hand, Ralph Parker, completed the table. From time to time, Sammie saw him cast admiring glances her way, blushing every time she caught him. Given her current state of disarray, she couldn’t imagine why.

  “Hey, Case, guess what Ralph did this morning?” Wiley’s grin spoke of pure mischief.

  “Don’t tell me you decided to try Comanche again?”

  “Hell, no, Case, I ain’t that stupid. Nobody around here wants to tangle with that mean sumbitch horse of yours.”

  “Ralph Parker, watch your mouth. There’s a lady present,” Linnie Mae remonstrated.

  “Sorry, Miss St. Claire, didn’t mean nothin’ by it,” Ralph mumbled, his ears burning bright red.

  “Please call me Sammie, Ralph. No offense taken.”

  She found herself relaxing, listening to the good-natured ribbing as Wiley sketched out an encounter between Ralph and a bull, and Case teased the young man. Everything felt so…normal. The cozy atmosphere of this enchanted circle lifted her spirits.

  Her problems were far from gone. She still had to find a way out of her nightmare, but in this moment, she would enjoy the respite. Remember how it felt to be a normal person with an everyday life.

  A sly remark from Wiley made her burst out laughing. She saw Case look at her, a tender grin on his face. She didn’t look away, and the spark of laughter in his green eyes burned down to a dark, glowing ember. She barely breathed, a slow thrill sizzling through her.

  The sudd
en stillness around the table never registered.

  Fortunately for Case and Sammie, David had had enough of good behavior. He wiggled and clamored to get down. The group scattered as the workload beckoned, leaving Wiley at the back door, while Case, Sammie and Linnie Mae stood around the table. Sammie began to pick up dishes to help with the cleanup.

  Linnie Mae would hear none of it. “Shoo now, child. Let me show you to your room. You look like you need to rest. And I might have something you could wear.”

  Sammie was tired, but she wasn’t ready to leave the cozy kitchen or the warm gathering.

  Case took the decision out of her hands when he grabbed the plates she held and carried them to the counter. “She’s right, Sammie, you do need to rest. I want to be sure you recover fully from the blow to your head.”

  “What?” Wiley and Linnie Mae exclaimed in unison.

  “It’s really nothing. I’m feeling fine now.”

  “Nonsense, young lady, come here and let me look at you. Did she lose consciousness, Case?”

  “No, and I kept an eye on her. But she was pretty dizzy for a while.”

  “Come on upstairs with me. Let’s take a look at you,” Linnie Mae hustled her out of the room.

  Sammie frowned over her shoulder at Case, who only grinned and shrugged helplessly. “Case is limping, if you didn’t notice. He hurt his knee.”

  His grin turned to a scowl. “I’m fine. See to her.”

  “I’ll be looking you over, too, young man, once I get her settled,” Linnie Mae warned him.

  Sammie smirked at him but allowed Linnie Mae to lead her up the stairs without further protest. Once they were out of hearing, however, she made another pitch. “Case has had less sleep than I have. He’s been through a lot for me in the last several hours.”

  “I can see how tired he is, but he won’t sleep until he’s looked things over with Wiley. I’ll keep an eye on him and get him off that knee as soon as I can.”

  Linnie Mae drew her into a bedroom at the back of the house, then showed her the bathroom and where the towels were. “Will you be all right by yourself? Are you still dizzy?”

  “No, I’m only tired, but a bath sounds like heaven. Thank you.” Once the door was closed, Sammie removed the clothes she’d been in for over twenty-four hours, wishing she could burn them.

  She washed her hair with the only shampoo she could see, a no-nonsense bargain brand. Jean-Claude would have a coronary if he knew that the locks he so carefully maintained were being abused this way. Sammie couldn’t stem a smile.

  Surprisingly, her hair felt as clean as it ever had with Jean-Claude’s expensive concoctions. She’d never tried anything ordinary—her mother was all about a proper grooming routine with every beauty aid known to man, and she’d raised her daughters that way.

  Linnie Mae obviously saw no need for pampering her short cap of silver hair. Her down-to-earth attitude made Sammie wonder about Linnie Mae as a mother.

  She’d probably been wonderful. A real hands-on mother, unlike her own. Sammie had been raised by a succession of nannies, her father’s idea of proper upbringing.

  A knock sounded at the door. “Sammie? You all right in there?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I’m just about perfect.”

  Linnie Mae chuckled. “Nothing like getting clean, is there? I’m just going to hang this shift on the door handle for whenever you’re finished. It will probably be short on you, but it ought to work.”

  “Thank you.” She didn’t think these people had much in the way of material wealth, yet their generosity had not abated.

  A few minutes later, her hair drying in damp waves, the plain cotton shift stopping well short of her knees, Sammie emerged. She’d rinsed out her red silk lingerie and hung it over the shower rod. She felt a little self-conscious about leaving it there, but she didn’t know what else to do. No telling when she’d be able to get replacements.

  The bedroom was cheery, its wooden floors dotted with scattered throw rugs. A lovely quilt covered the bed, and a fan circled lazily overhead. On the closet door, Linnie Mae had hung a long red cotton skirt and a white peasant blouse, both clearly too large for the tiny woman.

  “These belonged to our daughter,” Linnie Mae explained. “She and her husband passed away a year ago in an automobile accident. That’s why the little ones are with us.”

  “Oh, Mrs. Cantrell, I couldn’t—”

  “Nonsense, child. It’s silly to waste them. I’m sorry it’s all I have to offer, but I gave the rest away. Lucinda loved this outfit, so I—” She turned away.

  She couldn’t wear something so precious. “Mrs. Cantrell…”

  “Linnie Mae, please, Sammie.” With a discreet wipe of her eyes, the little woman straightened. “It would please me if you’d wear them, unless they’re not—that is, these are not fancy clothes like the ones you were wearing.”

  “Oh no, that’s not it. I just—what if I spilled something on them, or…” She left off helplessly. “They’re your memories, Linnie Mae.”

  Linnie Mae grasped her hands tightly. “Honey, I have a heart full of memories, and I only have to look at Jennifer to see my Lucinda every day. Please, it would make me happy to do this. And don’t worry if you spill something on them. I’m only sorry I don’t have more.”

  Sammie hugged the woman. “Thank you.”

  With a sniff, Linnie Mae returned to business. “Now sit down here, and let me look you over and make sure you’re all right.”

  Sammie put herself in Linnie Mae’s capable hands, sitting quietly on the bed while Linnie Mae examined her, clucking her tongue and muttering to herself but refraining from asking questions. She went into the bathroom briefly for peroxide. When she returned, she never showed it if she was scandalized by Sammie’s red lingerie. She simply tucked Sammie into the big, comfortable bed with a light cover, drew the shades down and left the room.

  If she’d thought it would be difficult to sleep in a strange place, the drone of the cicadas outside combined with the warm feeling of being tucked in by Linnie Mae to lull her to sleep almost before her head touched the pillow.

  Wiley gave Case a piercing look and raised one eyebrow.

  Case sighed deeply, then removed his cap as he scratched his head, looking across the back yard. “It’s a long story, Wiley.”

  “Seems to me we got some time here, Case.”

  “Yeah, well…let’s walk over to the barn.”

  “Gonna tell me what happened to your leg?”

  “It’s part of the long story.” He proceeded to outline the events of the night.

  Wiley frowned as he listened but didn’t interrupt.

  “I don’t know much about those men who tried to kidnap her, except there’s a man she’s afraid of, and he sent them. She says he’s a powerful man and she doesn’t dare involve the police. She has no one to turn to, so…” Case turned up his hands. “Next thing I knew I was asking her to come here. I can’t tell you why. She’s scared to death and she’s had one hell of a night, so I’m letting it ride for now.”

  “Looks like you haven’t had such a great night yourself, son.” Wiley’s brow wrinkled with concern. “You sure she’s not on the lam from the law?”

  “She sure doesn’t seem like the criminal type.”

  “Naw, she’s every inch a lady, even all beat up like that. But we got to know what we’re dealing with here, Case. It’s not like we don’t have plenty of problems already.”

  Case exhaled in a gust. “I know that. I tried to walk away in the beginning. I’ve got plenty to handle without this, but I just couldn’t see what else to do. She hasn’t asked a thing of me, Wiley, and she’s been grateful for what little I’ve done.”

  Wiley snorted. “It doesn’t sound like little quite covers this. Not as though either of you got off lightly.”

  Case shrugged. “I’m okay. Tell me what’s been happening and why you needed me back so fast.”

  “Got another notice from the bank. Next time, it’ll
be a foreclosure notice.”

  Case swore darkly, looking away. “Goddamn that Bracewell all to hell. Why didn’t I see it coming in time to stop him?”

  “You weren’t the only one around here, Case. None of us saw it coming.” Wiley took off his hat and scratched his head. “Drank a lot of cups of coffee with Roland Bracewell. Never thought anything was wrong with him except his taste in suits.”

  Case shook his head. He couldn’t see the humor in Roland’s white Southern planter suits anymore. “I gave him too much rope.”

  “You had your hands full, digging up new business for the trucking company and running the ranch. You drove a lot of extra loads, too, just to make things work. You can’t be everywhere at once.”

  Case pinched the bridge of his nose. “I should have sensed it somehow. The buck stops here.”

  “There wouldn’t be a here if it wasn’t for you. Jack left this place hanging by a thread. You performed a miracle with that idea of yours, setting up a trucking operation. It let us haul our cattle for free. Nobody around here works harder than you. You’re not God, Case—and best I know, you don’t have a crystal ball.”

  Staring off into the distance, Case wondered. “I should never have taken on a partner.”

  “You didn’t have a choice. It was the only way. You’d have made enough to buy him out, too, if he hadn’t taken off with every thin dime. You’d made a heck of a start.” Wiley’s head shook from side to side. “I drank a few whiskeys with Roland, too. Never once did he let on that he wasn’t what he seemed. I’d swear—I’d still swear that he wanted to make this work.”

  Case exploded. “Then why the hell did he take off and leave us holding the bag? Why make us lose every truck but that piece of junk I’m driving? Why push us to the brink of losing everything?”

  He swore and picked up his pace, headed toward the barn. There was nothing to be gained by any more speculation about Roland Bracewell’s intentions. “Let’s get ready for auction, Wiley. One day at a time, that’s all we can do. I’ll find some extra runs to make, and I’ll talk to the bank. See if they’ll give us more time.” Shoulders stiffened against the blow he could see coming, Case tried to blank out everything except the cattle he needed to select for auction.