The Texan's Christmas

by Linda Warren

  When her dream of having a nursing career had fallen apart, she’d had to search for work. No way could she come home with her tail between her legs. The old biddies in High Cotton said she would never amount to anything. How could she? She was practically raised in a bar. The Bible-touting women did little for her self-esteem, but Kid had restored her confidence in herself, in life.

  And then he’d destroyed it.

  She’d fought the memory like she’d fought for so many things. After years of menial jobs, she was hired as a gopher for a big convention center in Austin. It was still a menial job, but it was interesting. That’s how she’d met Travis. The Texas and Southwestern Cattle Raisers Association was having a big meeting and Travis was the keynote speaker, educating people on how to keep their cattle and their equipment safe.

  He’d arrived early as she and another lady were setting up microphones, video equipment, tables with water and every little thing that had been requested. One of her jobs was to make the guests comfortable with coffee, water or whatever. She liked Travis and he was easy to talk to. Before she knew it she was telling him about High Cotton, her dad, The Beer Joint.

  It was a one-meeting-type thing, or so she’d thought. He’d called the next day and asked if she was interested in a job. When he’d told her what he needed, she was shocked and told him she had no experience. His answer was she’d have to be trained. She went to seminars at the police academy in Austin, took self-defense classes and learned to use a gun.

  It was exciting compared to her ho-hum life. While they were working a case, she’d asked him why he’d picked her without any qualifications for an undercover agent. His answer was simple—he’d liked her character and she knew her way around a bar. Surprisingly, that didn’t hurt her feelings. Beer and rustling seemed to go together.

  She’d worked several counties with Travis where rustling was the strongest. Her cover was always in beer joints in small, out-of-the-way towns. Then her dad had fallen and that had given her the courage to return home. She was still the barkeep’s daughter, but ironically it didn’t matter anymore. Even though no one knew her real job, she felt good about herself. And that’s all it took—belief in herself.

  Like Kid had once made her feel.

  As Travis stopped at her window, she wondered why she’d never fallen for him. He was handsome, personable and trustworthy, but the passion, that special chemistry, wasn’t there.

  She feared she’d used it all up on a man who hadn’t deserved it.

  “Got anything?” he asked, tilting his hat. Sweat peppered his forehead. For the first week in September, it was still hot.

  They usually met once a month if they were working a big case, but most of their contact was through the phone and text messages. She was careful to delete everything from Travis in case someone managed to get her phone. His name wasn’t even on her cell. His number was under a fake name. They were very cautious.

  “No,” she replied. “The three cowboys came in, but they didn’t let anything slip. They only stayed about thirty minutes and were more interested in flirting with me.”

  “Lucky, be careful. These guys are no good.” Concern coated every word.

  “I’m always careful. You know that.”

  “Yeah. You throw yourself into these cases and sometimes I feel guilty. You should be married with babies.”

  Her heart stopped and for a moment she couldn’t breathe. He was right. At thirty-eight she should be married.

  I’ll love you forever, Lucky.

  But Kid hadn’t loved her at all. Why couldn’t a starry-eyed teenager see that? Because she wanted to believe.

  “Nine cows and six calves were stolen from the Hopper place last night,” Travis was saying. She blinked and forced her thoughts back to the conversation.

  “The Hoppers are in their seventies and they use the money from calf sales to supplement their Social Security. Now it’s gone—” Travis snapped his fingers “—just like that. I preach infrared digital game cameras to ranchers all the time. They’re relatively cheap at a sporting goods store, but I have a hell of a time getting anyone to use them until something is stolen.”

  Lucky had installed two on their property in trees overlooking their corral and the fence line. They were battery operated and snapped photos of anything that moved, even at night. Her father had also used calf sales to supplement their income. He usually sold calves around Christmastime so Lucky could have a good Christmas. One year rustlers wiped out his herd and Christmas was very lean at their house. Lucky always remembered how hurt her father had been. Maybe that’s why she was in this business. She didn’t want anyone else to go through that. Or maybe she enjoyed doing something meaningful for the community. It boosted her self-worth and confidence.

  “It’s always an afterthought,” she said, running her hand along the steering wheel.

  Travis reached for his cell and showed her several photos. “There’s the Hopper brand that’s on the cattle. And here’s a silver inlaid saddle Mr. Hopper was going to give to his great-grandson.”

  She studied the pictures. “The Hoppers are really nice people.” She didn’t know them personally, but they were big in the church and spoke to Lucky whenever they saw her. Most of the holier-than-thou people turned their heads without acknowledging her presence.

  “Yeah. My guess is the cowboys will try to move the saddle quickly. If they come back in tonight, they’ll probably have a lot of cash.”

  “I’ll watch for the signs.”

  Travis patted the window opening. “Just be careful. I’ll be patrolling the back roads tonight. Call if you need anything.”

  He strolled to his truck and she started her engine. She’d be on the alert. If the cowboys had stolen the cows, they’d be flashing cash and the more they drank the more they wouldn’t be able to resist bragging. That was usually a rustler’s downfall—the urge to brag to his friends.

  Now if she could just keep Kid out of her life, but she knew he’d be back. Good thing she was licensed to carry a gun.

  AFTER SUPPER, KID TOSSED and turned on the bunk he’d slept on as a kid. Thank God Chance had installed heating and air-conditioning years ago or he wouldn’t be able to sleep at all. Chance was the homebody, always there for their aunt and uncle. Now that Chance was married with a family Kid decided he needed to help out more. It was the very least he could do.

  He flipped onto his side. The room was small, cramped, and Aunt Etta hadn’t changed a thing about it in almost twenty-five years—the night their parents had died.

  A twin and a bunk bed filled the room. A closet was on the left and a dresser on the right. They barely had space to get into their beds, but they didn’t care. It was a place for the brothers to be together. A place to grieve.

  But Dane Belle hadn’t let them grieve long. He kept them busy on the High Five ranch. A man was what they had needed in their lives and Dane had fit the bill. He was the most assertive, strong and loving man Kid had ever known. He made the orphaned Hardin boys part of the Belle family.

  Aunt Etta was the housekeeper for High Five and Uncle Ru cowboyed for Dane. They lived in a small house not far from the Belle residence. Actually, in their backyard.

  Dane was a ladies’ man and had three daughters by three different wives. Caitlyn, the oldest, lived on the ranch because her mother had died in childbirth. Madison and Skylar lived with their mothers, but they spent every summer on the ranch. They had great summers with the sisters. Through the laughter and fun, their grief had slowly eased.

  The sisters were all settled now and living in High Cotton. Caitlyn had married a neighboring rancher, Judd Calhoun. For years, he’d been her arch enemy, mainly because Cait had broken their youthful engagement without an explanation. Somehow they’d worked out their differences and now had twin sons. Maddie, the sweet sister, had fallen in love with Walker, the constable, and they had three children. Dane’s wild child, Skylar, owned High Five with her husband, Cooper Yates. Kid would have bet mon
ey that Sky would never live in this homey town. Now she was a mother of two, living in wedded bliss. If Sky was cooking, he might have a heart attack. What was it about this place that drew everyone back? What made them rethink their lives and settle for the best of the best?

  Kid sat up on the edge of the bed and bumped his head on the top bunk. Damn it! He’d done that so many times when he was a boy and he suddenly realized the bed wasn’t suitable for a grown man. His feet hung over the end. The cot was harder than he remembered, too. Back then they were just boys and they didn’t care about much of anything besides sports and trucks.

  Chance had been twelve, he was fourteen and Cadde had turned sixteen—young boys just starting to discover life…and girls. They weren’t ready to face the death of their parents and later they certainly weren’t ready to face the truth about their father—an adulterer—who was willing to leave his wife and young sons for another woman.

  Oh, God. Why was he thinking about it? To keep from analyzing his own feelings, his own actions. Why hadn’t he called Lucky? Why hadn’t he come back for her?

  He meant to call her that first night after he’d reached Lubbock, but there was a party going on and they drank way into the wee hours of the morning. A hangover kept him in bed for two days. Then there was another party. When he finally sobered up, it was time to start classes. He still avoided the call because he knew she was going to be so mad.

  And there were all those Texas Tech beauties smiling at him. He was young, wild and a whole lot of crazy. One day turned into another and the call was never made. He was having too much fun. After that he didn’t have the nerve to call. The miles and the different environment drove them apart. It was his fault. He was very aware of that.

  Dane had insisted he come home for Christmas that year and he had, along with Cadde. The next morning they’d left again for Lubbock. After that first year in college, he decided sitting in a classroom wasn’t for him. He and a friend headed for the Alaskan oil fields to get a hands-on job and to learn the business from roughnecking. The freezing weather almost got him, but he stayed for two years.

  Every time he talked to Dane, he’d asked Kid to come home. Aunt Etta and Uncle Ru had asked, too. For some reason he couldn’t do that. It was the first time he’d done anything without Dane’s approval.

  Another guilt mark on his soul.

  When he’d returned to Texas, Chance was at the university and the Hardin boys partied all night. But soon Kid left for the East Texas oil fields. And then south Texas. He roughnecked just about everywhere.

  Cadde had graduated with a petroleum engineering degree and was working his way up the corporate ladder. Chance wavered between the oil business and cowboying, but he was never far from home. On the other hand, Kid couldn’t seem to get far enough away.

  Until he got the call.

  Dane Belle had passed away.

  Kid’s return was painful and heartbreaking. He’d looked for Lucky at the funeral, but she wasn’t there. When he tried to talk to Bud, he’d walked away and Kid knew he wasn’t welcome in High Cotton.

  The strip of guilt got wider.

  But he never let it show.

  He ran his hands over his face and got up, turning on the light. Cadde was right. He had to start with an apology and now was as good a time as any. Reaching for his jeans on Cadde’s bed, he noticed something on the wall by his bunk. It couldn’t be. He bent down to take a closer look. It was a heart he’d drawn with a Magic Marker. Inside he’d printed Kid Loves Lucky, and underneath that was Lucky and the Kid. Damn! Aunt Etta had never removed it.

  All those feelings of first love blindsided him. He sat on the bed with a thud. Maybe he’d been trying to outrun them. Maybe that’s why it was so hard to come home. Maybe it was Lucky.

  He quickly dressed and searched for a pen and paper in the dresser drawer. Some of their high school books were still there. Did Aunt Etta never throw out anything? Scribbling a note he tiptoed into the living and kitchen area and placed it on the table. Suddenly the lights came on. Aunt Etta stood in the doorway in a flowered cotton robe, her gray hair sticking out in all directions.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  “Who sleeps?” Aunt Etta went to the refrigerator and pulled out a carton of milk. “I thought you went to bed.”

  “I did, but I’m going out again and I was leaving you a note.”

  “A note?” Aunt Etta paused in reaching for a pot.

  “So you wouldn’t worry.”

  “Ah.” She grabbed the pot and poured milk into it. “It comes with the territory. And if an old aunt might be so bold, where are you going this time of night? It’s almost twelve.”

  “I need to talk to Lucky.”

  Aunt Etta turned from the stove. “Now, Kid, I think the time for talking to Lucky has long passed.”

  “I screwed up.” He finally had to admit the truth.

  She nodded. “Yeah. You’ve done that a time or two. You’ve always had this urge for freedom and you and Lucky got too serious too quick. I think you’re a lot like your father.”

  No, no! Don’t say that!

  “I’m not like him, am I?” Suddenly that was very, very important.

  Aunt Etta bristled. “Why wouldn’t you want to be like him? He was your flesh and blood.”

  He collected himself quickly. Aunt Etta didn’t know about her brother’s infidelity and Kid couldn’t tell her. At this late date, he couldn’t break her heart.

  Giving her a peck on the cheek, he swung toward the door. “I’ll see you later.”

  He’d dodged a bullet, but he thought about it all the way to The Beer Joint. He liked women. It was a fact he couldn’t deny, but he never cheated on anyone. Well, that wasn’t quite true. At Tech, he’d dated two girls at the same time. There was no commitment, though. Just fun. He never crossed that line of committing to forever, except with Lucky. He’d promised her as soon as he had a good job, they’d get married. They’d be together. No…oh, God!

  He was just like his father.

  WHEN HE REACHED THE BEER JOINT, he parked on the left side, away from the glare of the big spotlight Bud had installed. Three trucks were on the right so someone had to still be here. He slipped out of his vehicle. Before he could take a step, Bubba Joe came out, head down, and quickly drove away in the little Nissan. Did he leave Lucky by herself?

  Suddenly, three cowboys half staggered to the Dodge pickup, the ones he’d seen earlier talking to Lucky, but they didn’t get in. They stood there talking, but Kid couldn’t make out what they were saying. His eyes centered on the door as Lucky came out, a purse over her shoulder, keys in her hand. She locked the door and made her way to the Chevy truck.

  Unlocking it, she opened the door as one cowboy came around the front and the other two around the back to confront her. How he wished he had something besides his fists because this wasn’t good.

  “Hey, Lucky,” one of them shouted, “why don’t we continue this party somewhere else?”

  “You’re drunk, Clyde. Go home.” She looked at the other two. “That includes you, too, Earl and Melvin.”

  “You’ve been teasing us all evening,” the one called Earl said.

  “Yeah. Now it’s time to ante up,” Melvin, the heavy-set guy added.

  Clyde grabbed her arm and she knocked it away. “Don’t touch me or you’ll regret it.”

  “Hot damn, she’s got a temper.” Clyde and the other two closed in.

  Kid stepped into the light. “Get away from the lady.”

  All three cowboys swung around.

  “Who the hell are you, mister?” Clyde asked.

  “Someone who’s going to kick your ass if you don’t get out of here.”

  Earl snickered. “You think you can take us?”

  “In a heartbeat.”

  Melvin pulled a switchblade knife from his pocket, the silver catching the light with a startling eeriness. “Can you take this?”

  Before Kid could reply, the
other two jumped him. They went down into the gravel, fists flying. Kid slammed a right into Clyde’s stomach and he rolled away, moaning. He didn’t have time to think as a blow connected with his chin. Kicking out with his boot, he knocked Earl over the rail and he landed against the building. His body slithered down like a snake. Kid immediately jumped to his feet to face Melvin who was coming toward him with the knife.

  “I’m gonna cut you six ways from Sunday, mister.”

  Suddenly, a gunshot ripped through the September night. Lucky had a gun. Where in the hell did she get a gun?

  “Party’s over, boys,” she said in a voice he’d never heard before. “Now get out of here.”

  “What…?”

  She pointed the gun at him. “Shut up.”

  With grunts and moans, the cowboys lumbered to their feet. Melvin looked at him one more time before they got in the Dodge and left.

  Lucky reached with her left hand into her purse for her cell and poked in a number. The gun was still pointed at him and he found that a little disturbing.

  “Walker, this is Lucky. Three drunken cowboys just left my place. They’re headed east in a black Dodge Ram. You might want to alert the highway patrol. Yeah. I’m okay.” Deftly she slipped the phone back into her purse, her eyes and the gun focused on him. “I want you out of my life for good. Don’t come back here or to my house. You got it?”

  “That’s cold for someone who saved you from a fate worse than death.”

  “You didn’t save me from anything!” she shouted. “I had the situation under control. I knew they were waiting for me and…”

  “What!” He had no idea what she was talking about.

  “Get in your truck and leave. Now!”

  He could feel anger emanating from her in waves of white heat, much like the simmering night. “Put the gun down, Lucky, and let’s talk.”

  “I’m not talking to you.”

  He stepped closer, going on a hunch that she wouldn’t shoot him. “Why are you so angry?”