Give Me A Texas Ranger

by Jodi Thomas, Linda Broday, Phyliss Miranda

  “I suppose you could do a better job?”

  He let out a long-suffering sigh. “That’s not what I’m saying at all. I’d hate to try to raise a young’un.” There was a moment of silence before he added, “Maybe it’d be better to forget what I said.”

  Her chin jutted out. “I’ll thank you to keep your horseback opinions to yourself and don’t try to tell me how to do my job.”

  “Don’t worry. I won’t make that mistake twice.”

  “Fine.”

  Fuming, Texanna adjusted Stoney’s head so she could shave the other side. Concentrating on her task, she didn’t realize how near she was until her breast brushed his shoulder. An electrified sizzle went through her. She quickly moved back.

  In the depths of Stoney’s unnerving stare lurked amusement and a challenge.

  For a second, she considered telling him it might be better if he ate at Mattie’s Cook Shack after all. Except Josh would mope around all night. She wouldn’t do that to her son.

  The breath that had gotten lost somewhere inside her chest found its way out when she finally finished up and Stoney left.

  She dropped the two bits he’d paid her into the till. She hadn’t wanted to take his money, but he was a persistent man. In the end he’d simply pressed it into her palm and sauntered out the door in that easy, fluid way of his.

  Texanna stood at the window watching his tall form stride down the street, his red bandana flapping in a sudden gust of wind. Too bad he was so opinionated. Not that he was wrong. She just didn’t want him pointing out her mistakes. Truth was, she knew she coddled the boy, but she couldn’t help it. He’d lost his father. She had to make up for that.

  Any mother would.

  Her attention turned back to the Ranger who’d awakened long-dead dreams. Stoney cut quite a breathtaking figure.

  Supple leather britches clung to his long legs.

  The black Stetson pulled low on his forehead added a certain degree of danger.

  And the lethal Colt in the holster that rode low on his lean hip made him a man to reckon with.

  Stoney Burke had galloped straight into her heart and turned her topsy-turvy. All without giving her a say in the matter. And worse, he didn’t give it nary a second thought. When he’d finished his business here, he’d leave and not look back. She’d likely never see him again.

  Darn his hide! He made her care. He gave her hope where none existed. Her breath hitched painfully in her chest. Part of her would ride out with him when he left.

  If wanting him was a sin, she was doomed!

  The multitude of lonely nights crossed her mind. With a man like Stoney beside her, she’d never awaken in a panic, drenched with sweat, aching to feel the tender touch of a hand.

  Trembling, Texanna pressed against the window as though she could call the tall figure back. She stayed rooted to the spot until she pulled herself together. It’d do no good to fall apart. She had work to do. Over the next half hour, she swept the shop, washed her scissors and combs, and tidied up. She was just putting the straight razor away when the door opened.

  Her heart sank when she saw Marcus. “I’m sorry, I’m closing for the day. I have a funeral to prepare for.”

  Marcus LaRoach paid her no heed. The popinjay was too busy admiring himself in the mirror. Evidently satisfied with his reflection, he settled himself in the barber chair and propped his feet on the metal footrest. “Didn’t come for barbering. I saw the Ranger in here. Burke can’t save you, Texanna. He’ll move on, with good riddance, soon. Then I’ll get my wishes.”

  Her chin lifted several degrees. “There’s a big difference between wanting something and actually getting it. You’ll have to kill me to get me to the preacher.”

  “Believe me, sugar, that can be arranged. Don’t tempt me. My patience is wearing thin.” Marcus rose and leaned close to the mirror, smoothing his hair. “Now, I’ve humored you long enough. I’m the legal owner of this barbershop and Wilder’s Undertaking Emporium, and I’m taking control. Turn all the money over to me.”

  She clutched the till, her knuckles white. If Marcus took what money she had, what would they live on? How would she provide for Josh? “This barbershop belonged to my father. It’s my money.”

  The pompous weasel yawned. “Not in the eyes of the law, sugar. You know I have the only will Sam ever wrote, and he left everything to me.”

  “One of these days I’ll prove it’s fake.”

  Marcus grabbed her wrist and twisted. She let out a sharp cry.

  Before she could yank free, Stoney crashed through the door and had Marcus in a crushing grip. The Ranger slung him against the wall with such force the boards of the little barbershop rattled.

  “I told you what would happen if you didn’t leave Texanna alone. It wasn’t an idle threat.” Cold steel laced Stoney’s soft words. He was a man who wore authority as easy as he wore the Colt not far from his fingertips.

  Marcus struggled to speak, but with Stoney’s arm across his windpipe a squeak was all he could manage. “You can’t interfere with the law. I was only trying to take what’s legally mine.”

  “Steal it, you mean. You have no claim to Sam Wilder’s property. Not his businesses and not his widow.”

  Stoney wasn’t one to back down and neither was Marcus. But Texanna clung to the knowledge that Marcus had never run up against a tough man like her Texas Ranger.

  When had she started thinking of him as hers?

  Sheriff Ezra marched into the small shop, derailing her train of thought. “What’s going on here?”

  “Arrest this man.” Marcus squeezed out the words through the narrow opening in his throat.

  “Let him go, Burke. I can handle this,” ordered Ezra.

  “Like you handled the way he hog-tied Texanna this morning?” Stoney snorted, backing away from Marcus. “You did a fine job of upholding the law then. What makes you think you can now?”

  “Just a cotton pickin’ minute. You start slinging accusations and I’ll lock you up—don’t think I won’t.”

  “You might need reinforcements to do it.” A deadly glint filled Stoney’s hardened gaze.

  Marcus adjusted his dark satin vest. “I’m pressing charges against Burke for assault. Arrest him.”

  Sheriff Ezra hooked his thumbs on his belt and frowned, clearly not wanting to have to cross either man. “Mr. LaRoach, you might want to think about this.”

  “If I go to jail, LaRoach will occupy the cell next to mine,” Stoney declared.

  The sheriff turned to Texanna. “What do you have to add?”

  “Marcus came here causing trouble and Burke stopped him. The one in the wrong is Marcus, as usual. I have his handprint on my wrist to prove it.” Her stomach turned upside down when she met Stoney’s gray stare.

  A sudden breeze through the door scampered playfully through Ezra’s long white mustache. “I’m giving you both a stern warning. But anymore trouble between you and I’ll cart your rears to jail.”

  Marcus was bending the sheriff’s ear when they left the barbershop, threatening to fire Ezra, as he did anyone who didn’t kowtow to his whims.

  Texanna turned to Stoney. “You seem to be my knight in shining armor today. Thank you.”

  A wry smile crinkled the corners of Stoney’s eyes. “I’m just sorry LaRoach keeps bothering you. One of these days he’ll not stop at twisting your arm. And I may not be here.”

  “Evidently he’d been eagle-eyeing this place. He saw you leave and never in a million years expected you to come back.” Recalling Marcus’s brutal nature brought new waves of anger.

  “He hurt you.” With tiny circles, Stoney caressed the dark welts that had formed on her wrist.

  “Could be worse. It’ll heal.”

  “You’re shaking.” Stoney pulled her into the circle of his powerful arms.

  His gentle touch curled her toes. Stoney’s strong heartbeat rose above the roar in her ears. Texanna closed her eyes and reveled in the special scent that was the R
anger’s. He made her more alive than she had ever been.

  God help her, she wanted him!

  The longing was almost more than she could bear.

  She could picture their life together and what she saw made the torture that much worse. She could get her heart broken in a thousand jagged little pieces if she wasn’t careful.

  It did no good wanting something she couldn’t have.

  He’d already made it abundantly clear the only thing he wanted to be married to was his job.

  Chapter 6

  “I don’t rightly recall anyone spit-and-polishing a hearse before.” Stoney dipped a rag in a bucket of soapy water and sloshed it onto the long rectangular window on the side of the conveyance.

  He cast a glance at Texanna, who looked a mess—a beautiful, stubborn mess that he’d keep at arm’s length.

  Her hair had come undone from the knot at her neck and spilled in rich, golden waves down her back. The smudge of dirt on her cheek added an enticing touch. It required all his willpower to stay focused on the chore and off the row of tiny white buttons down the front of her dress.

  Josh was helping wash the hearse, so even if Stoney had been inclined to pull Texanna into his arms and kiss her silly, he wouldn’t. Not that he even wanted to do such a thing.

  It’d be foolish to let himself entertain such a notion.

  She’s just a frightened kitten you got out of a tree, he reminded himself. Nothing more.

  “Just because you’ve never seen funeral wagons washed doesn’t mean people don’t,” she answered. “I’ve always cleaned mine up before pressing it into service. I want to make a person’s last ride the most dignified I can. It’s out of respect for the dead that I make the hearse gleam. They might not have gotten everything they deserved in life, so I want to give ’em what I can in death, to honor their sacrifices.”

  Grudgingly he admitted they weren’t so different after all. He could sure relate to dedication. “You’re very committed to your work. I like that.”

  A wrinkle marred Texanna’s smooth forehead. “It’s more than a job to me. It’s a life-calling. It’s why I’m scratching and clawing to hold on to it…and why I can’t abandon it to become a seamstress. Or a laundress.”

  Stoney tried to ignore the jab, but in the end couldn’t let it pass. “Nothing wrong with that kind of work—it’s honest.”

  “It’s not for me.” Her tone warned that he was coming close to stepping into a pile of horse poo.

  How come she could recognize her dedication but not his? Rangering was a life-calling of the highest order. They’d been around that crook in the road enough. No need to keep going over it. He changed the subject. “Will you need help in the morning? I can do any lifting.”

  “I’d appreciate that, Stoney. I generally hire some men to load and unload the coffin. Sometimes Dusty helps me. And I always have to hire someone to dig the grave.”

  He leaned against the shiny black wagon. “How about if I dig the hole for you? That’ll make me feel better about eating all your food. I’ll take Josh with me.”

  Josh threw down his soapy rag, his freckled face lighting up like a beacon. “Oh, boy! Can I, Mama?”

  “Don’t see why not.” Her smile blinded Stoney.

  Without being told, he knew the smile was a simple thank-you for paying attention to her son. As if that took any effort. He had grown very fond of the boy.

  “Then it’s settled.” Stoney tossed his soapy rag into a bucket. “I’ll grab some shovels and we can get started. We should have time before supper.”

  “I’ll finish up here. You two go on.” Texanna shooed them.

  He located a big shovel for him and a smaller one for Josh. Throwing them over a shoulder, he set out for the church. Josh had to take two steps to his one in order to keep up, but the boy was as happy as a frog in a mud puddle.

  Stoney followed Texanna’s directions to the Mayness family plot and sank the shovel into the ground. Josh did the same. Stoney gave the boy a side glance. He was proud of the way Josh dug in wholeheartedly, no matter what job he was called on to do. Josh definitely didn’t shirk from work. Sam must be looking down and grinning up a storm at the way his son had turned out.

  There was just a slight problem with things seeming to disappear when the boy was around. Could be coincidence. Or something far more serious. He didn’t know which yet, but he intended to find out before he left Devils Creek.

  After an hour, they stopped to rest and wet their whistles with the sweet well water Texanna had sent with them.

  “My pa is buried right over there.” Josh pointed. “You wanna see his grave?”

  “I would.”

  Stoney ambled behind Josh as he led the way. His throat closed up when he saw the tombstone. Somehow, seeing Sam’s name chiseled in a piece of granite made his death more final.

  Josh sniffled. “I sure miss my pa.”

  He put his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Wish I could change things.”

  “Pa said he was gonna take me fishin’ sometime, but he never got to. Sure wish he had’ve.”

  “I’m sure he had lots of things he probably wanted to do with you and teach you, but he never had the chance.” His gaze caught on a small headstone next to Sam’s that had a baby lamb on top. The name read Jenny Wilder. The date of death was a year before Sam died. She’d been six months old.

  What the hell?

  Shock jolted through him. He ran his fingers across the chiseled words, Asleep in Jesus. Texanna hadn’t breathed a word about a daughter.

  Josh knelt down to brush the cold granite. “That’s my baby sister. I was gonna teach her how to shoot marbles.”

  Stoney’s throat tightened. Life could sure rear up and kick you in the teeth sometimes. Seemed unfair that Josh should have to know that kind of sorrow at such a young age. Stoney draped his arm around the slender shoulders, not knowing what to say.

  Pounding hooves and the clanging of rigging broke his train of thought. He glanced up. The stage pulled to a stop in front of the hotel. It was too soon yet to expect his replacement papers. Somehow, having to hang around for a few extra days wasn’t the hardship he’d first thought it would be.

  “Reckon we’d better quit lollygagging and get back to work, son. Your mama’s gonna have supper ready before long.”

  They finished the grave and headed for home. Texanna wiped her hands on her apron when they opened the door to the upstairs living quarters. “Wash up. I have everything ready to set on the table.”

  Stoney pumped water into a basin and let Josh wash first. After supper Stoney intended to visit the local bathhouse. That was one luxury he afforded himself. And after digging graves, washing hearses, and fighting LaRoach, he sorely needed to immerse himself in a tub of cool water.

  “Will you say grace, Stoney?” Texanna asked when they’d taken their seats.

  He wasn’t accustomed to blessing food, so it was short and to the point. It must’ve sufficed though, because Texanna’s eyes glistened when she looked up. Josh grabbed a piece of fried chicken the minute the amens were said.

  “Slow down, young man.” Texanna passed a heaping bowl of mashed potatoes to Stoney.

  He grinned and scooped out a big helping. “Josh worked up quite an appetite digging that hole. Besides, he’s a growing boy with places to go and people to see.”

  “I gotta hurry, Mama. Matthew’s uncle got a new horse and we’re s’posed to help him name it.”

  “That can wait until you eat. I won’t have you sick with a bellyache.” She took the mashed potatoes from Stoney and put a spoonful on Josh’s plate along with some green beans.

  “I won’t get sick, Mama.” The boy took a big bite of his chicken leg and chewed fast.

  “He’ll be all right,” Stoney said. “Give the boy some air.”

  They ate in silence that was broken only by the clink of forks on chipped china plates. Finally Josh asked to be excused, took his dishes to the washtub, and bounded down the stairs.
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  “Josh reminds me a lot of me,” Stoney said. “My mother always claimed I was hollow inside. I shoveled it in like it was the last meal I was ever gonna get.”

  “How is your mother? I hope she’s well.”

  “Was the last time I saw her.”

  “Does she still live outside of San Angelo on the family homestead?”

  “She does, along with my brother and his wife. After Pa died, Joseph took over the farm. They look after Ma now. You’ve never seen a more ornery or feistier woman.”

  It still rankled that his father had come near to losing everything they owned. Although he loved the man dearly, Stoney swore he’d not turn out like John Burke. His father had been lazy and undisciplined. Instead of working in the fields making a living, you could always find the man at a favorite fishing hole or in town playing checkers with his cronies. If not for Stoney and Joseph, their mother wouldn’t have had a place to lay her head or a morsel to put in her mouth.

  “Care for some more green beans?” Texanna asked. At his nod she handed them to him. “I’m glad your mother’s in fine shape. She’s a sweet lady. Always real nice to me. I commend your brother for taking care of her. I wish my parents were alive. I really miss them.”

  “That’s why you need to think about pulling up stakes and moving where you don’t have to watch your back.”

  Texanna laid down her fork. “We’ve been over this.”

  “That was before LaRoach gave you added grief today.”

  Sudden tears welled up in her beautiful blue eyes. She stared at the tablecloth, smoothing it with her hand. “There’s something I haven’t told you. Sam and I had a baby daughter almost two years ago. Her name was—”

  “Jenny. Her name was Jenny.” He noted her surprise when he supplied the name. “I saw the grave today when Josh showed me Sam’s resting place.”

  “That’s another reason why I can’t leave. Jenny needs me to watch over her. She was so tiny. It’s my fault she’s dead.”

  “How can you say that? You’re a loving mother.”