River to Cross, A

by Yvonne Harris

  She stiffened. “Next week? Why next week? I need to go home now. I’ve got a little niece with no family and I’m frantic about her.”

  “Right now, I expect Ruthie is safer than she’ll ever be in her life again. I took her to Fort Bliss with me when we left your house. At your father’s request, she’s staying with Colonel Gordon and his family until he gets there. She has other children to play with and a twenty-four-hour guard.”

  “Guard? You think she’s still in danger?”

  “I’m not sure. Your housekeeper told one of my men that the Mexicans wanted to take her with them, but the major overruled it.” He threw another piece of wood on the fire. Damp, it smoked for a minute, then popped and sent a burst of sparks flying upward. “A revolt against President Hector Guevara is brewing in Mexico.”

  “I know. Lloyd recognized Major Chavez in the courthouse. He said Diego is the brains behind the revolt.”

  “He’s probably right, but the U.S. needs that confirmed absolutely. That’s what Fred and Gus and I hope we can find out. Nobody wants another war with Mexico.”

  “So, Gus and Fred are in on this as well?”

  Jake nodded. “We’re all part of an operation.” He sighed and stood up. “I’m going to leave you with friends of mine about twenty miles from here. You’ll like his wife. She’s half Aztec and teaches English at a monastery. They’re good people.”

  “Which is why you chose this cave,” she said.

  “And why—for your own safety and theirs—I didn’t tell you before.”

  He also didn’t tell her that his friend was a former Ranger he’d served with. He and Ricardo Romero had saved each other’s lives several times. Jake considered Ricardo the brother he never had. He saw the Romeros a couple of times a year, on official trips or “unofficial” business, like now.

  “You’ll be at their house three or four days until I learn if Diego was involved or not. Then I’ll come get you and take you home.”

  Her chin lifted. “And what if something happens to you?”

  “My friend knows what to do. He’ll take you across the Rio Grande to the nearest Ranger river patrol in Texas. He’ll get you to them, and the Rangers will take you to Fort Bliss.” His mouth was tight and serious. “Know this: You will be in no more danger with him than with me. I’d trust Ricardo with my life.”

  He’d taken his hat off and dropped it to one side. In the firelight, the hair falling over his forehead had a reddish cast to it.

  White-faced, Elizabeth stood. Lips trembling, she said, “I see. It’s all arranged. Why didn’t you trust me? I would have helped you any way I could. You see me as a woman with nothing to contribute except needlepoint and children. Well, Captain, I have a degree to go along with my needlework. I am not a silly socialite. I was raised with politics and confidentiality and the consequences of war. Patriotism is not the exclusive domain of males. Like you—and Lloyd—I also love my country. When I get back to Texas, I’m going to run his newspaper.”

  She turned and walked away from the fire, toward the cave wall where their blankets were spread.

  Jake threw his hand out. “Elizabeth, I’m sorry. Wait . . .”

  She waved him off without answering. He heard a little choking sound as she disappeared into the darkness.

  He pulled in a slow breath. Guilt flashed through his mind. She was about to cry.

  Half an hour later, Jake grabbed a lantern and climbed to his feet. “I’m going to check the horses.” Without waiting for a reply, he started for the back of the cave. The lantern’s swinging light threw his shadow, huge and dark, onto the cave wall alongside.

  Gus reached into his jacket and pulled out a flask of whiskey. “How many times he gonna check? That’s the third time he went down there.”

  Fred held out his cup so Gus could pour drinks for them both. “It’s not the horses he’s checking, you know. He passes the bed sacks on the way.” Gus sighed. “I hate to see him look like that. He’s miserable. Did you see the look on his face the first time he came back and said she was crying?”

  “Yeah.” Fred picked up Jake’s empty cup. “Pour some of that in here to take his mind off her.”

  Gus snorted quietly. “He won’t touch it. His old man was a drunk. Told me he left home at fifteen to get away from him. In all the years I’ve known Jake, I’ve never seen him take a drink.”

  “Then hide it in his coffee,” Fred said. “He needs something tonight. And do it now—he’s coming back. I see his lantern.”

  “Gotcha. Give me his cup.”

  A few moments later, Gus asked, “Horses all right, Jake?”

  “Yeah, they’re fine.”

  “How’s our duchess doing? Still crying?”

  “Yeah.”

  “She’ll be all right tomorrow. Come on over here and have some coffee.”

  Jake took the coffee and then sat and leaned his back against the cave wall. Staring at the fire, he sipped it and said, “Coffee tastes different—what is it?”

  “Some of that Mexican coffee. Got it from their supplies. You like it?”

  “Dunno. It’s kind of spicy.” But it wasn’t long before he’d drained the cup. He held it out for a refill. “You really think she’ll be all right tomorrow?”

  Gus took the cup and turned around to the coffeepot and his flask, his back to Jake. “Sure. Women are like that. Get all stirred up about the littlest of things, and then it’s all over and they get on with their lives. While us poor guys stew for days.”

  Fred pulled out a deck of cards. “How about a couple hands to take your mind off things?”

  Elizabeth’s angry blue eyes floated across his mind, eyes fighting back tears.

  “I’m in,” Jake said. Five minutes later, so was Elizabeth—still in his mind, settled in for the night apparently. He stared at his cards, trying to forget her.

  She wasn’t his type, anyway. She was a senator’s daughter and spoiled rotten. He knew that the first time he saw her picture. Grimly he set his teeth together. Everything he did with her, he did all wrong. He’d become short-tempered, disorganized, and more than a little rough around the edges because he knew she didn’t like it. And yet he found one excuse after another to hang around her. It made no sense.

  He dragged a hand down his face.

  And if she hates you now, just wait till she finds out about you and her brother.

  She was smart, he’d give her that. He always did like smart women. His mother taught him that. She was a schoolteacher in Greensburg, outside San Antonio. Too smart to have married Harvey, his stepfather, but she’d married him anyway.

  Pregnant with Jake, his mother had wanted a name for her unborn child. She wanted better for her baby, even if it meant a poor marriage for herself. Jake’s real father, a Deputy U.S. Marshal, had been killed two weeks before their wedding—shot in the back by a convicted bank robber.

  A rush of sympathy tore through Jake for a towheaded little boy with hair in his eyes whose stepfather hated him. Every time he climbed onto his lap, Harvey set him down firmly on the floor, saying, “Stay offa me, kid.”

  And Jake had cried.

  His throat tightened now, remembering. He shook his head and forced the gloom away. This wasn’t like him at all. He frowned at his coffee.

  The three men played cards for an hour, the other two laughing, having a good time. Normally a good player, Jake lost one hand after another. Time and again, someone refilled his coffee cup. Though he said little, he was glad they were there. Like most military men, he liked the bonding and camaraderie of fellow soldiers. Gus and Fred were ex-cavalry, too. Rangers, especially, looked after each other in ways other men never did. With another Ranger, you always knew where you stood.

  Men were predictable.

  Sometime around midnight, when he fanned his cards, Jake realized he couldn’t tell a club from a spade. Head whirling, he tossed them down. “Count me out. I’m so tired, I can’t see straight.”

  He struggled to his feet an
d went weaving off into the darkness. Twice he stumbled. It took concentration just to place one foot in front of the other. Then he tripped and found himself on his knees on the cave floor. In the dim glow of a lantern, the bed sacks and blankets were just ahead.

  It was too much effort to get up. He crawled the last few feet to the bed sacks and pitched forward onto the first one he came to.

  “Wrong bed, Captain,” a high, sharp voice cut through the dark.

  “You ’sleep, ’Lizabeth?”

  “Not anymore.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Not a thing.”

  “You’re still mad because I didn’t tell you.” He rolled onto his back and threw an arm out. “Oops. What are you doing here?”

  Elizabeth shoved the heavy arm off her midsection and sat up. “This is my bed, not yours.” She turned her face away. “Phew, you’re drunk.”

  “Am I?” He blew out a long sigh. “You may be right.”

  “Go to your own bed. Now!”

  “I’m going, I’m going. Where is it?”

  He tried to push himself up and sprawled onto his face instead. His nose flattened against the blanket. The world lurched into a slow spin. He winced and closed his eyes to stop the whirling.

  In seconds, he was asleep.

  Shortly before Elizabeth woke up the next morning, Jake went outside and stuck his head in a bucket of cold water, but it didn’t help. He’d had only a few hours’ sleep and it showed in the lines of his face. Weary, he rubbed his face with both hands and returned to the cave to finish getting dressed.

  The dull, throbbing headache that had woken him that morning was thumping his ears like a bass drum, and his mouth tasted like old socks. Worse, he’d made a fool of himself last night, collapsing onto Elizabeth’s bed sack.

  A hangover—another first. A little fumble-fingered, he handed her a clean shirt and trousers, turned his back and waited while she put them on. Then he moved to help her with the buttons.

  “I’ll button myself,” she said, and pushed his hands away.

  “You can’t, so slide your hand under the buttons and stand still.”

  Quickly he buttoned her up and laced her boots, all while trying to figure out how and why last night had happened the way it did. He’d never been drawn to any girl this fast, and he intended to stop it cold. Right now. He had no time for women in his life.

  When he finished, he stepped back and looked at her. “Thank you for not mentioning last night. I’m sorry about it. Charge it off to foolish friends who slipped liquor into my coffee. I don’t drink. It never happened before, and it never will again.”

  Jake guided Banjo down through a mixed forest of pines and towering oak trees covering the mountainside. He reined to a stop and pointed to a large farmhouse below, overlooking a sweeping bend of the Rio Verde in the distance. “That’s their house,” he said.

  Built of whitewashed adobe, the house had wooden shutters and painted beams. Pots of geraniums soaking up the sun on a second-floor balcony added a bright Mexican touch. Two barns and several corrals lay beyond.

  Jake waved to a dark-haired man running from the house. When the man came closer, Jake and Fred both jumped off their horses and rushed forward to greet him. The three of them laughed and hugged and thumped each other’s backs.

  Elizabeth watched. This was more than casual friends meeting. Since Fred and Jake were both Rangers, Ricardo must be, too. For some reason, that did not make her feel any better.

  “Jake! Jake!” A woman carrying a little girl hurried down the hill toward them. Behind her, two young boys slammed out of the house and ran to catch up. The toddler in her arms squealed and waved at Jake.

  Smiling, Jake strode to meet them, kissed the woman on both cheeks and took the girl from her.

  He kissed her and swung her around until she was giggling. Then he set her down and turned to the boys, who rushed up and hugged him.

  He spoke to the mother in a guttural language Elizabeth didn’t understand. Aztec. Ricardo’s wife was half Indian.

  Switching to English, Jake introduced Elizabeth to Maria and Ricardo Romero and their two boys.

  The little girl turned shy and wrapped both arms around Jake’s leg. Hugging his thigh, she looked at Elizabeth and grinned.

  Jake laughed and ruffled the child’s hair. “And this proper young lady is Jakina. She’ll be three next month.” He handed her to her mother and looked at his friends, his expression turning serious. “Ricardo, Maria, I need your help.” The three of them stepped aside to talk.

  A few minutes later, Elizabeth nodded when Ricardo turned to her with a little bow. “Señora Evans, we are honored to have you in our home. You and Fred Barkley—another old friend—are most welcome.”

  She looked at Ricardo with a half smile. “You Rangers do stick together, don’t you?”

  He laughed. “As they say, like glue.”

  Jake took her shoulders and turned her to face him. “Smarty, you figured that out fast. Hey, don’t look so worried,” he added.

  Elizabeth grabbed both of his hands and held them tight. Looking up at him, she whispered, “Please don’t leave me here. Take me with you. I’ll help any way I can, and I won’t be any trouble, I promise.”

  “Taking you with me would be dangerous and might get us both killed. You’re safer here with Fred and Ricardo than with me.” He pulled his hands free and traced a finger lightly down her cheek.

  Her breath caught. He’d never touched her before unless it was absolutely necessary.

  “Stay here, eat good food, and get yourself some rest. I’ll see you in a few days. Good-bye, Duchess.”

  She blinked at him, surprised. She’d been wrong. Until that minute, she’d thought he called her that only when he was angry. His face had a masked, unreadable expression, one she’d seen earlier.

  “I have to go now,” he said. He stepped into the stirrup and swung himself up easily into the saddle. Touching his heels to Banjo, he started back up the hillside.

  When he reached the tree line, he swung around and waved his hat at her. The sunlight slanting through the trees caught in his straw-colored hair and turned it almost golden.

  She swallowed past the tightness in her throat. Tough as he was, Jake Nelson was all she had right now. In the past couple of days he’d saved her life, cooked her food, and even helped to dress her. And he’d made it all seem so commonplace and natural, nothing to be embarrassed about.

  When she looked embarrassed, he’d made some silly remark or joke which got her laughing.

  She owed him for all that.

  “Please watch over him, Lord,” she whispered as he disappeared into the trees.

  Not wanting to be seen together, the Rangers had separated that morning. Gus had split off and taken one of the main trails leading to San Jose, a small farming community ten miles deeper into Mexico. Jake would meet him there later that afternoon. And Fred would stay with her at the Romeros’.

  Maria Romero touched her arm and nodded toward the house. “Don’t look so worried. Jake will be all right.”

  Elizabeth looked away quickly. “I’m sure he will.”

  “That man is good at what he does.”

  Elizabeth gave a small huff. Which is what exactly? she wondered.

  Maria picked up the saddlebag of Elizabeth’s clothes and led her into the house and upstairs to a room off a long hall overlooking the kitchen. The room contained a small dresser and a single bed. A colorful patchwork quilt lay folded over the footboard. A white lace curtain covered a small window.

  Maria set the saddlebag on the bed. “Now, let’s get you out of those boy’s clothes. I’ll bring you up some things of mine. After that long ride, Jake thought you might like a hot bath. The tub is next door, and the boys are filling it now.”

  It was an old-fashioned metal tub. Elizabeth removed her clothes and let them fall to the floor. They smelled like horse.

  She wrinkled her nose. Ugh, she smelled like horse.

>   She stepped into the tub and slid into the hot water. Head back, eyes closed, she luxuriated in it. The heat relaxed her. She stuck her head underwater to wet her hair, then lathered up the bar of soap and rubbed until her scalp felt clean and fluffy suds lay on the water. She dunked her head under again to rinse it and came up smiling.

  Thoughts of Jake and Fred and Gus and their brave decision to come after her flew at her from all directions. Texans saving another Texan.

  With no warning, her face crumpled. She hiccupped on a sob, and hot tears blended with the water on her face. She was so grateful to them. Mouth twisting, she wept quietly. She hadn’t realized how terrified she’d been.

  She wrung her hair out and winced. A dull headache, made worse by the tears, throbbed behind her eyes.

  After she climbed out, she flexed her fingers. They moved easily. Jake was right. He’d said nothing looked broken.

  A slight annoyance at him welled up. The man had dumped her on top of a mountain with complete strangers. She didn’t even know where she was!

  She watched herself drying off in a mirror. She was in his friend’s house, bathing in a tub he’d probably used in the past. She looked at the towel and wondered if he’d ever used it. Somehow, it all felt right.

  Wrong.

  Despite that masculine Texas courtesy with women, he was a Texas Ranger, part of the Frontier Battalion which, although not U.S. Army, was just as military. She didn’t need that complicating her life again. She pulled on the clean chemise and the blue housedress Maria had left on the bed and went down to the kitchen.

  Sausages and scrambled eggs steamed in a plate on the table. Elizabeth’s stomach rumbled, and she sat down to the first normal meal in a week.

  The kitchen was huge. Lacy ferns spilled from pots on a windowsill. In one corner, next to a fireplace, was a counter inset with a firebox and grates for cooking.

  Sipping her second cup of coffee, Elizabeth watched as Maria tidied up the kitchen.