Give Me A Texas Ranger

by Jodi Thomas, Linda Broday, Phyliss Miranda

  Stoney watched him leave, knowing he hadn’t heard the last of LaRoach. He’d be waiting for the man to mess up. Meanwhile, it was time he learned the gambler’s habits.

  Texanna awoke the next morning with a feeling of overwhelming dread. She wasn’t safe. Josh wasn’t safe. Marcus intended to destroy them as surely as the sun was rising. And Stoney could only do so much until the man broke the law.

  But she wasn’t going to sit around idle, waiting for the next move.

  No, it was time she did something.

  Before that though, she had patients to attend to.

  She got dressed and woke Josh. Stoney arrived as she was setting the table for breakfast. Heated swirls rose up at the sight of the tall, lean Ranger and made her knees wobble.

  Still wet, his hair lay in dark waves. She remembered the day she barbered him and the silky texture of it.

  It didn’t take much imagination to picture him lying next to her with his arms holding her tight, the hard substance of his naked body pressed to hers, his mouth taking liberties.

  Lord have mercy!

  She shook herself sternly and reined in her thoughts.

  At one time Stoney could’ve felt that way about her. But it was too late now. She’d said the wrong thing. All the progress she’d made had been for naught.

  Noting the haggard look that hung like a set of clothes that were a size too large, Stoney didn’t appear to have gotten any more sleep than she did. She wondered what had kept him awake.

  The prisoners’ snores perhaps? Or was it worry?

  “Sure could use a cup of coffee.” He planted his black hat on a hook beside the door. “Smells mighty good.”

  “Come on in. It’s ready and waiting.”

  When she handed him a cup of the dark brew, the lines at the corners of his eyes crinkled with his lopsided smile. Her breath caught on the lump in her throat.

  The thoughts she’d just reined in sprang free.

  Why had she let him get away so many years ago? He was tender, yet he had a dangerous toughness about him that could put the fear of God in the worst outlaw.

  And it didn’t come from the Colt hanging low on his hip.

  No, his steely strength came from inside. It came from having a good heart, one that held a belief of right and wrong in no uncertain terms. Stoney Burke upheld not only the law, but his personal beliefs as well—despite the valleys, darkness, and sheer hell he had to go through to do it.

  God help her. She was deeply and utterly in love with him.

  She couldn’t deny her racing heartbeat and the flutters in her stomach when he entered a room. She glanced at his broad shoulders that tapered to a narrow waist and thought of the impossible.

  Maybe the caring he had for her could grow into love.

  And maybe buffalo were just big cows.

  Stoney slid his rugged form into a chair at the kitchen table. “Had a talk with LaRoach last evening after I left here. Can’t say that I got through to him, but I will say I gave him some things to mull over in that pea brain of his.”

  “Marcus can be quite determined when he wants something.”

  “So can I.” The words were hard as granite.

  “I was thinking about me trying to reason with him. Maybe I can—”

  “No! Stay away from him. I mean it, Texanna.”

  She bristled at the explosion. “I can’t make things any worse.”

  “Things can get worse—a lot worse, believe me.”

  “I have to deal with him when you leave.” She put her hands on her hips, prepared to go toe-to-toe with him. But she couldn’t escape the stormy charcoal stare.

  Combing his fingers through his hair, Stoney rose and covered the distance between them. “I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to you.”

  “Exactly how do you feel about me? Am I just Sam’s widow and you feel responsible for my safety?” She captured her bottom lip between her teeth, afraid she already knew his answer. “Or is there something more?”

  Her heart stilled as she braced herself for his reply.

  He lowered his head, his breath ruffling the loose hair at her temples. “My dear, beautiful Texanna. I—”

  “Hi, Stoney.” Josh bounded into the kitchen.

  They moved apart quickly and Texanna felt her face redden.

  “Hey there, little man,” Stoney answered in his easy way. “You’re full of energy this morning. You have a big marble game planned?”

  “Yes sir. An’ me and Matthew might go watch his uncle build a corral.”

  “Josh, I’d rather you stuck close today.”

  The boy’s face fell. She knew how he chafed for his freedom. Stoney was right. She wasn’t being fair to Josh by insisting they stay in Devils Creek.

  Stoney met her gaze. “Your mother’s right, son. What about me taking you boys fishing? We can go after I settle some business.”

  “Oh boy! Is that okay, Mama?”

  Texanna smoothed the top of his head. “Just you mind what he says, okay?”

  Josh and Stoney loaded up their plates with bacon, eggs, and biscuits. As they filled their stomachs, the talk turned to worms and hooks. Texanna sat quietly, watching her little boy who wanted so much to be a man, and the man who gave her son the moon and stars and everything between.

  She burned with curiosity. What had Stoney been about to say?

  Stoney made the rounds alongside Texanna to check on their patients, though he already knew Colfax’s state of health. After all, he’d slept a few feet away from the wounded outlaw.

  At the boardinghouse, the sheriff’s weathered face lit up at the sight of the breakfast Texanna took him. “I swannee, ain’t this something?”

  “How do you feel today?” Texanna touched his forehead.

  “Got a gnawing ache in my leg, but a bigger one in my gut. Reckon I’m mite near ready to wrestle a bear.”

  Stoney watched Texanna change the bandage and fuss over the man. She had the old lawman wrapped around her little finger. Ezra flirted shamelessly and Stoney knew he’d have stiff competition on his hands if the old geezer were a little younger.

  Since when had he started looking at other men and considering them competition?

  Since you kissed her, you fool.

  Texanna had snuck past his defenses and he knew leaving would be difficult if not damn near impossible.

  She’d asked him how he felt about her, and that wasn’t easy to answer. He’d been relieved when Josh had spared him from having to reply.

  Truth was, he hadn’t sorted out his feelings about Texanna yet.

  He only knew he liked kissing her and having her in his arms. And he knew it went far beyond simple responsibility for Sam’s widow.

  Oh yes, she was much more than that.

  Chapter 11

  It didn’t take long to teach a couple of rambunctious youngsters how to bait a hook and drop it in the water.

  Stoney couldn’t recall the last time he sat on the banks of a river with a fishing pole in hand. It had been years since he’d last engaged in the pleasurable pastime and he’d missed it.

  The San Saba River’s sparkling blue water lapped gently along the shore. His soul was at peace here.

  Nearby, Hondo and Josh’s little paint, which they’d rented again from Dusty Haws, grazed on a patch of nut grass.

  Josh and Matthew reminded him of his younger days before he and his brother realized that their father’s ambition didn’t extend to actual work. John Burke loved fishing and enjoyed teaching his sons how to do it. But if John had tried to show them how to earn a day’s wage, the man wouldn’t have known where to start. He’d sure had loafing down pat though.

  Josh glanced at Stoney. The big grin on the boy’s face stretched from ear to ear. “Reckon we’ll have enough fish for Mama to cook for supper?”

  “I’m betting we will.” Stoney’s heart warmed. Such a simple thing like fishing made the boy so happy. Lord knew Josh hadn’t had much of a chance to be young and c
arefree.

  From what Stoney could see, playing marbles was the extent of Josh’s fun.

  Texanna kept her son’s natural curiosity tamped down under her mother-henning. But Stoney had it in his power to teach Josh some of the games he’d grown up with. A sudden idea jolted him upright. He stuck the handle of his pole in the moist dirt and stood.

  “Have either of you boys ever played mumblety-peg?”

  They shrugged their shoulders and Josh replied, “Nope.”

  “Then it’s time you learned.”

  “What’s mumblety-peg?” Matthew asked.

  “It’s a game played with knives. Do either of you have a pocketknife?”

  “Nope,” Josh answered.

  Why was he not surprised?

  “We can use mine. Lay down those poles and come here.” Stoney drew a circle in the dirt and opened up his knife. He showed Josh and Matthew how to throw the knife so that the blade stuck into the ground as near to the center of the circle as he could get it.

  This version was a lot safer than the one where each player measured a win by sticking the knife into the ground as close to his opponent’s foot as he could without stabbing him.

  It was harmless fun, he told himself.

  Stoney demonstrated his knife-throwing skills by showing them this dangerous version, telling them never to play that way. An hour later he was just about to get them back to some serious fishing when Matthew screamed.

  “What’s wrong?” Stoney’s belly twisted at the sight of blood dripping from Matthew’s hand.

  “I—I cut myself.”

  Stoney quickly lifted the boy and sprinted to the water’s edge so he could wash off the blood and determine the severity of the wound.

  “It’ll be okay,” he said in an effort to comfort Matthew, who by this time was sobbing uncontrollably. Or maybe Stoney was only comforting himself. There was no escaping the guilt that sat on his shoulders like a rampaging bull.

  Matthew’s palm gaped open in a bloody mess.

  Damn! There was no way on earth to keep this from Texanna. She’d raise holy hell and probably run him back to Menardville.

  “Is he hurt bad, Ranger…I mean, Stoney?” The freckles stood out even more on Josh’s colorless face.

  “Your friend won’t be shooting marbles for a while. He’s in need of some stitches.”

  Texanna would never forgive him for letting the youngsters play with a knife. Never in a million years.

  He could already picture her walleyed hissy fit.

  Untying the bandana from around his neck, Stoney wrapped it tightly around Matthew’s hand.

  “Josh, can you grab our fishing poles while I get Matthew on Hondo?” He wouldn’t risk the boy falling off a horse in the bargain. Matthew would ride with him.

  The boy hustled to collect the gear and was back in a flash. Stoney helped him into the saddle of the little paint.

  The rock in his stomach had turned into a boulder by the time they reached town. They pulled up in front of Wilder’s Undertaking Emporium just as Texanna was coming out.

  Josh climbed from the horse. “Mama, Matthew’s hurt.”

  “What happened?” Concern etched her face.

  “He got cut,” Josh supplied before Stoney could tell her gentle-like.

  Stoney threw his leg over the saddle horn and dismounted. He lifted Matthew down and carried him into the building. He’d give anything not to have to answer Texanna’s questions. Damn, he could see no way to skirt the truth.

  She gently unwrapped the boy’s hand and examined it. “I’ll have to sew it up. Josh, run and tell Matthew’s parents.”

  “Okay, Mama.” The boy took off in a flurry.

  Texanna turned to Stoney. He squirmed under her icy blue scrutiny. “I don’t understand how Matthew cut himself. A fishhook wouldn’t make a wound like this.”

  “The boy sorta cut himself trying to play mumblety-peg.”

  “What on earth! What were you doing while this was going on?”

  Yep, she was mad as a horned toad all right. Stoney prayed for a lie, but none came to mind. “Now, Texanna, don’t get all riled up. I was teaching them, all right?”

  With her eyes riveted on Stoney, she addressed Josh’s friend. “Matthew, where did you and Josh get knives?”

  Matthew wiped his tears. “Ranger Burke.”

  When she focused all her attention on him, Stoney prayed for a hole to open up and swallow him. None did.

  Her voice was tight. “You took knives to go fishing?”

  She made it seem as if he’d deliberately set out to go against her wishes. And that he had a whole arsenal.

  “It was one pocketknife and it belonged to me.” He raised his chin a tad. “And I didn’t take them there with the intention of teaching them to play with knives. I was only trying to show them how to be boys and do boy things. Seemed a good idea at the time. Never thought Matthew would get injured. If you weren’t so all-fired bent on keeping Josh from growing into a man, I’d never have taught them the game.”

  “So this is my fault?”

  The woman, who fought tooth and nail to hang on to the son she couldn’t bear to lose, had plenty of reason to be upset.

  If only she didn’t struggle so hard to still her quivering lip. He could handle her anger. He knew how to deal with that. It was tears and sorrow that sucker-punched him in the gut.

  “Of course not. I take full responsibility. Can we place blame later? See to Matthew’s hand first. Then you can chew on my butt to your heart’s content.”

  At last Texanna calmed down. She got her medicine bag and took out her needle. By then, Matthew’s parents had arrived. Stoney explained what happened. Unlike Texanna, they understood it was simply an accident. Thank God for rational heads.

  Leaving the group, Stoney collected the horses and walked them toward the livery.

  “Stoney,” Josh called, running behind him.

  “What is it, son?”

  “Your pocketknife. You forgot it.” The boy skidded to a stop beside him and held out the weapon.

  Stoney took it, his heart light. Josh could easily have kept quiet. The fact that the boy returned it without being asked said a lot for his character. He couldn’t be responsible for all the missing things the town accused him of taking.

  “Thanks. I forgot all about it in the excitement.”

  “Sure is a nice pocketknife.” Josh’s freckled face was wistful. “One of these days when I’m big I’m gonna have one just like it. Then I’ll be safe.”

  The boy was clearly worried about his Uncle Marcus. What was the price for giving Josh some security? Stoney weighed a thought. “I’ll tell you what…why don’t you hold on to it for me for a few days?”

  “Oh boy!”

  “But you have to promise that you won’t take it out of your pocket and flash it around. Remember what happened to Matthew.”

  “I promise.”

  “I’ll hold you to that.”

  Texanna would hold Stoney’s feet to the fire when she found out about it.

  He’d have to tell her. She had a right to know.

  Lord, he didn’t relish the chore though.

  Chapter 12

  “Got a letter for you, Ranger,” yelled the owner of the Western Stage Line as Stoney emerged from the livery two hours later, after unsaddling and rubbing down both animals.

  He strolled toward the man. “Much obliged.”

  The envelope bore the seal of the Texas Rangers.

  His replacement papers. For all the good it did to get them now. He couldn’t leave, with Colfax at death’s door. And if the man died, he wouldn’t need them at all.

  Funny how fast life switched horses on a man.

  While he was contemplating that, a boy darted from Truebill’s Mercantile with half of Devils Creek hot on his heels. The store owner lunged and tackled the boy, sending both to the ground.

  “I’ve got you now, you little thief,” stormed Muttonchops.

  Stoney sho
ved through the angry circle that had formed around the two. “What in Sam Hill’s going on here?”

  “Why don’t you ask him?” Truebill glared, his muttonchop sideburns outlining his face like a picture frame.

  “Get off the boy and I will.” Stoney gave the youngster a hand. When he pulled him to his feet, his stomach plummeted.

  Josh peered up with fear in his eyes.

  “What did you do, son?”

  The boy shrugged his small shoulders.

  “Look in his pocket and you’ll see,” spouted a bystander.

  “Josh, show me what’s in your pocket,” Stoney asked in as gentle a way as he knew. No reason to frighten the boy any more than he already was.

  Josh pulled out the pocketknife. Next came an envelope fluttering to the dirt. Stoney bent to pick it up.

  The envelope was addressed to the mercantile owner, Martin Truebill. He turned it over and noticed the seal was still intact. Disappointment stabbed him. This didn’t bode well for the boy to whom he’d entrusted his pocketknife.

  “That’s mine,” said Truebill, stomping around in a circle. “It just arrived. I didn’t even have time to open it. This is the last straw. I’m going over your head and wiring the circuit judge. It’s time somebody did something with this kid.”

  “Give me a chance to take care of this.”

  Truebill glared. “Not on your life. You’re awful cozy with Mrs. Wilder. You’re not going to do what needs to be done with her son. The boy needs a firm hand. He either needs a father or a jail cell. Put him in there and throw away the key. We won’t tolerate any more of his thievery. Lord knows Mrs. Wilder can’t, or won’t, handle the wild ragamuffin.”

  Josh kept his gaze fastened on his bare feet. Stoney heard a loud sniffle.

  “I’m only asking for a day or two before you wire the judge. Seems only fair given the boy’s tender years.”

  Martin Truebill was silent while he mulled it over. Then he nodded curtly. “One day, no more than that.”

  With disgruntled murmuring, the group dispersed. Stoney took Josh in tow and headed for the sheriff’s office.

  Texanna intercepted them halfway, worry turning her eyes a deep shade of purple. “What are you doing with Josh? You’re not putting him in jail. I won’t stand for it.”