Give Me A Texas Ranger

by Jodi Thomas, Linda Broday, Phyliss Miranda

  The goings-on around Molly Lou’s were questionable at best. Something very shady was happening.

  Hopefully, Ella wasn’t involved, but at the same time, how could Hayden be sure?

  Who could he trust?

  And the orders he had from his captain—“Status quo.” A cryptic message warning him to stay fixed; keep his mouth shut, eyes open, and guns cocked.

  Chapter 10

  Hayden threw his saddlebags over his shoulder. Although his brain felt like a steam engine on a downhill curve, a good night’s sleep was welcome. Even in a bed, something he was unaccustomed to. He glanced up at the kitchen window and there was only a flicker of light dancing on the walls. He figured Ella had finally gone to bed. Even for a frontier woman, she worked a long day.

  Walking around to the front of the saloon, he entered. The room once lively and noisy was now silenced and gloomy, except for a narrow ribbon of light on the floor. A low-burning candle sat on a table near the stairs, giving off enough light to keep Hayden from falling over things.

  Making his way through the shadows, he picked up the candle. Behind him, a noise alerted him to possible trouble, and he whirled back in the direction of the door. A tiny calico kitten scampered across the walk, likely back to its mother.

  Tough Texas Ranger and tiny Texas kitten tangle. Hayden chuckled to himself at the thought. Exhaustion had made him skittish as hell. He headed to the stairs.

  The twelve bottles of whiskey were still on the end of the bar where he’d left them earlier. Now he could take time to check them out. He lifted one from the wooden crate. Tennessee Old No. 7 Sour Mash, best you could buy, in a faintly tinted amethyst glass bottle with a smooth base—certainly not the rough, dark amber ones he’d seen the drummer and bartender take out of the shed.

  Based on the number of patrons Hayden had seen since he’d arrived in town, a dozen bottles sure as hell wouldn’t run a saloon for long. According to Ella, the drummer made irregular deliveries.

  Guided by the candle drowning in its own wax, he climbed the stairs.

  Muffled girly giggles came from the far door to the left of the stairwell.

  He sure hated to have Audrey Jo uprooted just to give him a room. He was more accustomed to sleeping outdoors, but she had insisted.

  Turning right, as Audrey Jo had instructed, he found his room; a typical woman’s bedroom that reminded him of a flower garden. Floral wallpaper, frilly lace curtains over a window looking out into a stand of cottonwoods. Framed silhouette cutouts of a man and a woman hung above a blue and white bowl and pitcher.

  A massive four-poster bed was tucked in the corner. He could hardly see the covers because it was not only so far away from the window that moonlight didn’t cast its light on it, but the thingamajig was topped with a lace-draped canopy. It’d been awhile, but he’d seen something similar in a brothel down in San Antonio.

  Although it was against his principles to sleep under the dadgum thing, it didn’t take long for Hayden to undress all the way down to his underdrawers, settle his saddlebags out of sight, and crawl between the quilt and pretty, good-feelin’ sheets. He allowed the candle to burn out.

  Knowing Ella was safely settled in down the hall, and probably giggling with her friends about forcing him to sleep in such a frilly bedroom, made it easy for him to go to sleep.

  Ella took a frustrated breath and climbed down from the ladder in the storage room next to the kitchen. She sat on the bottom rung. Wiping the perspiration from her forehead with her apron, she took another breath. She’d been working so long in the tiny room that she hadn’t realized the lantern had burned so low. The dim lighting and flickering signaled the end of a very long, yet eventful day.

  As much as she wished she could have been able to stand at the kitchen window longer and watch Hayden try to decide whether he wanted to light up a cigarette or not, and as much as she had enjoyed poring over his strapping physique, chores waited, so she had gone about her business.

  For some reason her ledger book that she always kept on the top of the pie safe was missing. She’d checked high and low, even moving the cabinet as best she could to see if it’d gotten caught between the rough wooden back and the wall. It was nowhere to be found.

  She really needed to enter the quantity of bear claws and pints of jelly that she’d given to the drummer to barter for some of their other needs. Without it, she couldn’t be certain that all of the supplies had been ordered.

  Finding the ledger would have to wait until tomorrow.

  Ella had helped the ladies clean up the saloon as best they could, since Muley never showed up. If she wasn’t so weary and hadn’t been closeted in the storage room for so long, she might’ve gone out to the ol’ shed to check on him. It wasn’t uncommon for Muley to disappear for hours on end, but he’d never shirked his duties before. She had seen the peddler arrive earlier than usual, so maybe that had detained Muley. Or possibly he thought he’d worked hard enough for one day. Even Ranger McGraw’s presence may have spooked him.

  Regardless of the reason, she had a business to run and needed everyone to take care of their duties.

  Ella picked up the lantern. Leaving the storage room, she walked through the vacant kitchen and out to the yard. Nothing but a late summer moon smiling high above, cicadas, and a lonely coyote howling in the distance. Stepping around the corner of the building, she couldn’t see any light coming from the shack, so she presumed Muley had bedded down for the night.

  But tomorrow Calvin Mullinex would get an earful from her.

  She wasn’t all that comfortable with Audrey Jo’s moving out of her bedroom for a few days, but the saloon girl had volunteered to do so, in order for Hayden to have his privacy. Ella had finally agreed, but only if Audrey Jo would stay with her. So the agreement was reached. Hayden would take Audrey Jo’s room and she’d bunk with Ella until other arrangements were made.

  The saloon was totally dark and the candle wasn’t at the foot of the stairs, so Ella presumed everyone had gone to bed, including her husband. Tarnation and damnation, she had to stop thinking of him as a husband, and certainly quit imagining what it’d be like to lie in his arms. It would not happen. It could not happen.

  The staircase railing guided her to the landing, where she continued to her bedroom.

  The last door on the right.

  Hayden didn’t think anything short of a dynamite blast could wake him, but rarely slept without being cognizant of his surroundings—a piece of sage advice handed down from his Ranger father. It had kept Hayden alive, so far.

  The bedroom door’s rusty hinges squeaking had roused him. He reached for one of his Colts from his holster hanging on the bedpost and lay quietly, keeping his gaze glued on the entrance.

  Moonlight created a catawampus pattern across the floor. He saw a shadow only a split second before the outline of a woman appeared. Ella tiptoed into the room. He breathed a sigh of relief.

  Apparently she couldn’t see him. Since the room was Audrey Jo’s, it perplexed him somewhat as to why Ella would barge in…unless it was for some nefarious reason. She’d made it clear that she wouldn’t come to his bed. But then she could be picking up something for Audrey Jo. The little he knew about the woman suggested to him that she’d be uncomfortable coming to her own room with a man in bed, even if it were for something as necessary as a toothbrush.

  Ella slowly, methodically, for what seemed like an eternity, unbuttoned her dress and pulled it over her head, setting Hayden’s stomach aflame. She hung the calico dress on a hook and stood in front of the window, stretching like a cat. With the moonlit window as a backdrop, he could see every sleek line of her body through the thin fabric of her chemise.

  Hayden wasn’t sure how much longer he could avoid taking a deep breath. Even a stifled groan. He’d sure as hell got himself into a heap of trouble. If he called out, she’d probably shoot him. Worse yet, she’d wake the whole house and create a scene. She damn well knew which room he’d be sleeping in.

>   So why was she undressing right before his eyes?

  A gentleman would do the right thing. Stay put, close his eyes, and not embarrass her. But when in the hell had he ever been all that gallant? As much as he wanted to close his eyes, the devil made him watch her every step.

  Ella removed her chemise and laid it on the back of the chair, releasing full, luscious breasts. She turned her back to the bed and kicked off her unmentionables. He wasn’t sure what the proper term was, but all he knew was they no longer covered milky, taut buttocks and legs that went all the way to her slim hips and tiny waist.

  Fire shot through his body and settled below his waist, making him feel a powerful need for her in ways he’d never thought possible. He didn’t want to pull her into the bed and make her his, he wanted her to come willingly to him.

  Ella retrieved a gown from the top drawer of the dresser and slipped it over her head, not bothering to button it up, exposing the swells of her breasts. Taking careful pains, she washed her face.

  He had to get his mind off the pretty lady sitting at the dressing table, and thought back to his conversations with Audrey Jo and Ella. It was clear Ella knew exactly which room he was in. Maybe she was just dressing here and then would go elsewhere to sleep. Chancy at best for her to change clothes in his presence. She had more willpower than he did, and frankly, he wasn’t all that sure that it was very considerate of her to undress in front of him. Hell, being a man he didn’t mind enjoying her overwhelming beauty and womanly charms.

  Opening a bottle, she dabbed oil on her wrists, releasing the scent of lilacs. She took care in brushing her mahogany hair, kissed by the sun and caressed by moonlight.

  Ella placed the brush on the dressing table, and opened the drawer. Searching quietly, she removed a piece of paper, scissors, and a tack, and then studied the blank sheet for the longest time. Swiftly, wielding the scissors through the paper, she twisted, turned, and cut away small pieces.

  When satisfied, she brushed the discarded bits aside, and examined what she’d cut out. Walking to the wall, Ella tacked a silhouette on the wall beside the others.

  To Hayden’s surprise, the newest profile looked a lot like him. A whole lot like him.

  She lightly kissed the outline, touching the cheeks.

  Hayden lay still. Her nearness kindled a longing that he couldn’t deny.

  Ella walked to the side of the bed and sat down with her back to him. Appropriate for the room, she smelled of a Victorian flower garden, sweet and succulent, humming with memories. Not like the wanton women he’d shared pleasures with over the years, but a field of wildflowers on a spring day. The warmth of her flesh kindled the fire in his gut. It was all he could do not to touch her.

  Closing his eyes, Hayden took in the heady scent of lilacs. She was near enough for him to smell the cinnamon and vanilla in her hair.

  He had only one choice: remain silent until she fell asleep, then slip out and go to the stables for the night. Where he should have gone in the first place.

  But if she were to roll over toward him, all bets were off. All deals were void, and he’d spend all night long touching and kissing her the way a husband should a wife.

  She laid her head on the pillow, and with a muffled voice asked, “Are you asleep?” She squirmed a bit. Nestling down in the mattress, she whispered ever so softly, “I guess not. Good night.”

  Hayden wasn’t sure if he’d ever figure out women. It wasn’t but a few hours ago he had reluctantly agreed that, although they would hold themselves out as husband and wife, it would be only in public. She had been adamant that nothing physical would happen between them…yet she’d come to his bed. What had changed? Uneasiness at the lack of logical answers lingered in his mind. Instinctively he shifted his weight and moaned.

  “So you are awake.” Ella rolled over to face him.

  “Darlin’, not only am I awake, but ready,” he whispered in her ear. One thing for sure, Ella was just Southern enough to understand the meaning of darlin’.

  Shrieking as though he’d pinched her, Ella jumped to her knees, and began flogging him with her pillow, all the while repeating, “You…you…you’re a…”

  All Hayden could do was hold his right arm up so she wouldn’t strike him in the face. Just as Ella plopped him on the head for the umpteenth time, the pillow broke open, and feathers flew all around the room, landing on anything they came in contact with. Floating from the ceiling, the soft down landed in Ella’s hair, on her gown, and the bed.

  Hayden brushed the sonofaguns from his chest and arms, blowing one from his lips.

  Ella chuckled in joy. Uncertain but amused gazes locked. Her eyes sparked with the love of combat. She offered up an infectious, teasing smile that made him want to match it. All of a sudden, they were roaring with laughter at the humor of the moment. They rolled on the bed in frolic, shooing feathers in all directions, seeing how high in the air they could blow them and how long it would take them to land.

  The mattress shifted with the extra weight on one side, as they both dove for a wayward feather. Without warning, Hayden found himself covering Ella with his body, locking her in an inescapable embrace. He lifted his chest and looked into her face. He brushed a feather from her chin and kissed her, urging her to savor the taste of passion. She matched his every desire.

  With a thunderous boom, the bedroom door burst open and Dixie rushed in, waving a derringer pistol about big enough to get herself killed with, and shrieked, “I’ve got you covered, Ella.” She paused and frowned. “I guess I should have said—he’s got you covered.”

  Although Hayden didn’t think the barmaid would shoot, particularly since she had the dang thing aimed somewhere closer to the ceiling than his head, he wasn’t about to show his weapon. “Dixie, I’m unarmed.” He slowly rolled off Ella, lifting his hands above his head.

  Ella nodded an okay to the woman, as she threw the quilt over Hayden.

  “Jumpin’ Jehoshaphat, girl! I told you not to do it!” Dixie stuffed the dinky pearl-handled pistol into her housecoat pocket and turned around twice like a banty rooster having a conniption fit. “You did it anyway. Didn’t you?”

  Chapter 11

  Dancing with fire, the sun peeped over the horizon as Ella set a butter dish on the kitchen table. She’d gotten up long before daybreak and had already fixed biscuits, now baking in the oven.

  By the time Ella and Hayden, with the help of Dixie and Audrey Jo, had cleaned up the feathers in her bedroom, it was closer to the time to get up than to go to bed, but they did get a few hours of sleep. It was torture being alone in the big four-poster bed with Hayden just down the hall. She could still feel his body pressed to hers. His hands setting her flesh on fire. His kisses. How her body responded to his, wanting him to touch her everywhere. But that dream was short-lived since Dixie had burst into the room, halting any possibilities of Ella becoming Hayden’s wife in every way.

  Ella couldn’t shake the mystery of her missing ledger. When she had come to the kitchen and lit the kerosene lamp earlier, she found it on the table. She knew she hadn’t overlooked the dang thing, as she’d searched everywhere imaginable. So where had the book been? Maybe Muley had brought it in and left it for her?

  She heard Hayden walking across the porch before the screen door opened and he sauntered in with a coffee mug in his hand.

  “Good morning,” he said, heading straight for the oven. “Smells good in here. Sleep well?”

  “Yes, thank you for asking,” she said. “And, you?” Before he had a chance to respond, she looked up at him. Hayden was absolutely magnificent with an adolescent sunrise peering over his shoulder. She swallowed hard. “You know you didn’t have to move your stuff to Audrey Jo’s bedroom, don’t you?”

  “Yes, ma’am, but I didn’t think Dixie’s heart could have held out much longer if I hadn’t gone.” He shot her a wicked, mesmerizing smile.

  “I should have warned you when I realized Audrey Jo was the one who told you which room was your
s.” She placed a knife on the butter dish. “Sometimes she really doesn’t know her left hand from her right.”

  “She sure as hell knew which was which when she was jammin’ her fingers in my chest because I hadn’t listened to her directions.” He chuckled. “Frankly Ella, I don’t believe for a minute she didn’t know exactly which room she sent me to.”

  “You might be right.” She smiled sheepishly. “When you were outside, did you see Muley anywhere around?”

  “No. Hope you don’t mind, but I fixed myself a cup of coffee.”

  “Of course not. You’re welcome to anything I have.” She wished she hadn’t said it quite like that, especially when she saw his eyebrows shoot up mischievously. “You know what I mean.”

  “I sat on the porch and enjoyed the morning before I took care of Stewball.” He refilled her coffee cup and handed it to her before he poured himself some.

  “Thanks.” She took a sip.

  “You’re welcome.” He smiled, warm and rich. “Where are your two mother hens this morning?”

  “The girls are still upstairs. I haven’t heard hide nor hair from them since they left to go back to bed last night.”

  “Doesn’t seem fair.” He shook his head and leaned against the sink. “After all the plannin’ and connivin’ Audrey Jo did, that you and I ended up in separate beds alone and they shared a bedroom.”

  “That doesn’t make sense, huh?” Ella set her cup on the table and laughed tentatively, trying not to face Hayden because she was afraid he could read her mind.

  As much as she knew she needed to forget Hayden’s broad shoulders and muscular chest covered with thick, curly hair, not to mention riveting dark eyes, she couldn’t. His sensual yet needle-sharp stare left no question about his desires. But that was last night. Today he was confident and seemed to have made himself at home. Was that good or bad? She chewed on her bottom lip and found herself tapping her foot as she tried to sort through some of her thoughts.