“Why would a woman who’s been a widow for three years still wear her wedding ring?” Jake asked.
“Probably to keep men away, to give the appearance of being married. Most men stay away from a married woman. My sister wore hers after her husband died. Women are terribly vulnerable when they lose a husband. More so than us, I suspect. It’s a hard thing for anyone to get over. Is she seeing other men?”
Jake ran a hand through his hair. He got up and walked to Tyler’s desk and leaned against it. “I gathered from her conversation she isn’t. Not at all.”
“I’m not surprised. If she were seeing other men, the ring would be long gone. You can give a sigh of relief and relax. She just hasn’t met the man yet to replace her dead husband.”
“Or maybe she still loves him,” Jake said.
Tyler was quiet for a moment, then shook his head slowly. “Whether she does or not, when the right guy comes into her life now, that ring will fly off her finger. But wearing it now says a lot of good things about her.”
One corner of Jake’s mouth dug in deep.
“Who is this woman?”
“Elizabeth Evans. Senator Madison’s daughter.”
Tyler let out a soft whistle. “The one you went to Mexico after?”
Jake nodded.
“I’ve heard about her. Beautiful girl, they say.” He sighed. “I liked her brother Lloyd. Sad day. I gave the benediction at his funeral.”
“I liked him too—he was a good man.”
“So, if I’m reading this right, you sound interested in Elizabeth.”
“I could be.”
Tyler smiled. “It’s about time. That business with Audrey was ugly, but it worked out well for you because she wasn’t up to being an officer’s wife. Those of us who knew you and knew her were afraid she’d hold you back. You must have been badly stung by it, because you’ve stayed away from women since then.”
“I guess I did for a while.”
“A long while.”
Jake checked his watch and pushed off the desk. “Thanks, Bill. I feel better for talking to you. I’ll just shut up and wait until she’s ready. For now, I have to leave. I’m taking Elizabeth to dinner tonight.”
Tyler stood and handed Jake his hat. “One last thing. The ring business tells me you should handle this lady with kid gloves. If you really like her, take it slow. Be gentle, and sweet. Forget you’re a big, bad Texas Ranger. Don’t intimidate her.”
Jake gave a quiet snort. “Are you kidding? She’s half my size and she intimidates me.”
Tyler threw his head back and burst out laughing. “Thank God. I haven’t met her yet, and I love her already!”
Jake spurred his horse into an easy gallop and took the trail from Fort Bliss to the Annex, wondering what he’d find when he got to his office.
“Hello, Murphy,” he said to his clerk. “Got any good news for me?”
“Hello yourself, Captain. Glad to see you’re back in one piece.”
“So am I, believe me. You never know in Mexico. Anything happen I should know about?”
“Couple things.” Murphy gestured to a long, narrow wooden telephone hanging on the wall. “That came in handy. They had a jailbreak down in Ysleta last week. Prisoner took off through the back country. We got the call from Ysleta and rode out fifteen minutes later. By nightfall we had him. Report’s on your desk. And this just came from the hospital.” He handed a paper to Jake. “Private Hernandez is in the hospital with a busted leg and a busted arm. Horse threw him.”
“In C Company, isn’t he?”
Murphy nodded.
“He’s a good rider. What happened?”
“Bear jumped his horse. The horse reared and pitched Hernandez into a tree. He was hurt pretty bad, unconscious when they brought him in.”
“Tell you what, Murphy. You go on, get out of here early for a change. On your way, stick your head in at C Company and ask Sergeant Greer to come fill me in.”
“I’ll do that right now, and thank you.” Murphy swiftly cleared his desk, then passed Jake a handful of messages. “These came in while you were gone. There were more, of course, but Lieutenant Sanders handled them.” He turned and started for the door.
“Wait, Murphy—what’s the name of that store in El Paso where you got flowers for your mother?”
“Not really a store; it’s part of the Fashion Saloon. They got electric lights in there, you know. Business is booming. Don’t know where their liquor comes from, but they get fresh flowers in every day from the big cities.” Murphy then left to catch Hernandez’s sergeant.
Leafing through the messages Murphy had given him, Jake shook his head. While he was in Mexico, three problems had surfaced: Company B’s capture of the escaped prisoner, a bar fight and shooting in El Paso, and a follow-up on twenty-five stolen cattle.
Company A was out on a scheduled patrol, and his own D Company was resting and getting fat.
He smiled. Tomorrow might be a great day for a five-mile run.
Hitching his leg up, he sat on a corner of his desk. He reached for the foot-high stack of reports and read the top one. He had just finished reading it when Sergeant Greer of C Company stepped into the office to fill him in on Private Hernandez.
Jake made notes: facts, figures, dates, impersonal information necessary for him to recommend keeping Hernandez in the Rangers or to let him go.
But Hernandez the Ranger jumped off the page when Sergeant Greer said the young private burst into tears when told he might be discharged.
That had some uncomfortable similarities for Jake, who’d spent weeks in a wheeled chair with a shot-up hip and worried about the same thing—his Army career ending because, like Hernandez, he hadn’t known what was behind him, either. For Jake, it was an Apache with a loaded Winchester.
Jake checked his pocket watch. If he hurried, he had time to go see Hernandez before dinnertime.
Jake ran up the stairs to the third floor of the hospital building. According to his sergeant, Jim Hernandez was recovering in Room 310.
“Hi, Marge,” Jake said to the gray-haired nurse he’d seen many times before. He looked at the pale face of his youngest Ranger lying in a bed by the window. His leg was elevated by a pulley and wires attached to a metal frame above the bed.
Jake pulled up a chair. “How’s the leg, Jim?”
“I’ll be all right, Captain. Just may take a little time is all.”
“Sergeant Greer and I talked this afternoon, and both of us want you to stay with the Rangers—if that’s what you want. You told me last month you planned on reenlisting when your time is up. You still feel that way?”
Jim nodded, his eyes filling with tears. “I was afraid you’d kick me out because of this.” He gestured with his good arm at his leg in a cast.
“We’ll find you a job you can do sitting down. A couple of months and you’ll be back in your saddle. Just do what Marge tells you. Right, Marge?”
“That’s right, Captain,” Marge said while looking at Jim.
Jake stood and patted Jim’s shoulder. “Get well now. If you need anything, tell Marge and she’ll let me know. I’ll check back in a day or so.”
Marge walked him to the door. “Thank you for stopping in,” she said. “That’s the first time I’ve seen that boy smile since he got here.”
Fort Bliss Emergency Room
“Elizabeth! You’re back!” The dark-haired nurse rushed around the end of the desk and hugged her hard. “I heard this morning you were back. The Rangers aren’t saying a word, but the rest of this fort has been buzzing for a week. It was supposed to be a big secret, but everyone knew. How are you?”
Elizabeth returned Suzanne Peterson’s hug. Suzanne lived on post with her parents. Her father was a major. She and Suzanne had met when Elizabeth came out to visit Lloyd two years earlier.
“I wanted to stop in and say hello before I go home and take a nap,” Elizabeth said. “I’m staying with my dad on post. I’ve been talking all morning to mili
tary people and I’m tired.”
Suzanne returned to her station behind the desk and picked up a chart listing new patients. “I’m so sorry about your brother. Everyone in town was at the funeral.”
“Thank you . . . to be honest, it hasn’t sunk in yet.”
Suzanne nodded. “By the way, your housekeeper brought Ruthie in for a doctor to see her—the same day they took you. Captain Nelson ordered it.”
“I’m not surprised he sent Ruthie to the doctor,” Elizabeth said. “He’s sweet.”
“He may be a lot of things, but I wouldn’t call him sweet.”
Elizabeth chuckled. “Funny, he said the same thing.”
“Jake Nelson is a hard-nosed Ranger officer. From what I hear, he’s never served a day in anything but combat units.”
“I thought that at first too, but I was wrong about him. He isn’t hard-nosed at all. He’s considerate and kind.”
Suzanne snorted. “Considerate and kind? A Texas Ranger? Well, don’t tell anyone. You’ll ruin his image.”
“Dad is taking us to dinner tonight at the Grand Hotel. The three of us wanted to get away from the fort and eat someplace nice, someplace with music.”
The outside door to the Emergency Room opened. “Afternoon, ladies. I’m looking for Miz Elizabeth Evans.”
“That’s me,” Elizabeth said, turning around.
“Fashion Florist, ma’am. Delivery for you.”
He handed her a large bundle of green tissue paper swathed around some kind of flowers.
Smiling, Elizabeth laid them on the counter and fished down through all the paper. “Oh, look, Suzanne! Roses! They’re beautiful.”
“Who sent them?” Suzanne asked.
“My father, I’m sure.” As she plucked out the small card nestled in among the tissue paper, her jaw dropped.
“Well?” Suzanne said.
Shaking her head, she leaned over the counter and passed the card to Suzanne. “I can’t believe he did this,” Elizabeth said.
“ ‘Welcome home. I’m still smiling. Jake,’ ” Suzanne read aloud. “Well, you must be right. You said he was sweet. What’s he smiling about?”
“I wish I knew.”
Hands on her hips, Suzanne looked across the desk. “Is there something you’re not telling me here?” She read the card again. “Still smiling, is he? Frankly I didn’t think that man knew how to smile.”
“What are you talking about? He smiles all the time.”
“With you maybe, not with anyone else. He’s tough, and it shows. He’s a straight shooter. Leave it to you to find one. He’s right out of the old officer mold—never do anything to shame the uniform. I think he’s also got your number. You must have knocked him off his feet, and now he intends to knock you off yours.”
Elizabeth gestured to the flowers. “I never know what to expect from him. To tell you the truth, I don’t understand him at all.”
“Did he ever tell you how he got that scar on his hip?” Suzanne asked.
Elizabeth stiffened. “Of course not. I didn’t know he had a scar there.”
“Well, he does. I saw it last year when they had him on the examining table to be checked. That scar is as big as your hand. It’s a wonder the man can even walk, let alone shoot everything that moves and blow things up.”
“Oh, be serious.”
“I’m dead serious. That’s what Texas Rangers do. For starters. After that, they can get ugly.”
“I’m not sure any of them are like that, and certainly not Jake. He’s different.”
“Not to mention aggressive and determined.”
Elizabeth laughed. “You left out intelligent and handsome.”
“Didn’t think you noticed such things.”
“I noticed.”
Apparently, however, she was a relic from the last century. Sunday school teaching and church had shaped her values. And Lloyd’s, too.
Suzanne’s features softened. “Have fun tonight. All kidding aside, I think it’s great you’ve changed your mind about men in the military.”
Elizabeth gathered up the green bundle of flowers. “I’d better get these in water.”
“There’s water in the staff room around the corner. You might even find a vase in the cupboard.”
As Elizabeth headed for the hallway to the staff room, she called back over her shoulder, “And I have not changed my mind.”
“Oh yes, you have,” Suzanne said quietly.
Between arranging them and looking at them and wondering why he sent them, the roses were making her crazy. Nibbling on her lower lip, Elizabeth slipped the last long stem into the vase she’d found in the staff room. She cocked her head, removed a bud, and put it on the left side this time. Perfect. She buried her face in the pretty red petals and smiled, ridiculously pleased.
Picking up the vase, she left the staff room, humming under her breath. Even the dingy green walls of this place looked sunny and fresh today.
Walking toward her, rattling a food cart ahead of him, was an orderly. Elizabeth waved and grinned, and realized she’d been doing that a lot lately.
Head on, Jake Nelson was even bigger than she remembered, an imposingly tall man with wide shoulders and a neck as big around as her thigh. In a light tan corduroy jacket and dark brown trousers, Jake took up the whole doorway. Arms folded, he leaned against the doorframe.
“Hello,” she said, smiling.
Jake took off a hat the same color as his jacket and stepped past her into her father’s temporary quarters at Fort Bliss.
From the pearl stud earrings she wore, to the trim linen dress and high-heeled sandals, he seemed to be analyzing her, cataloging her. His eyelids drooped sleepily as his gaze settled on her figure.
She’d dressed carefully for tonight. Before deciding on the lavender linen dress, she pulled one outfit after another out of the valise and held them up in front of the mirror. From the look on Jake’s face, she’d made the right choice.
“Thank you for the flowers,” she said, indicating the vase of red roses on the coffee table. “They are so beautiful.”
He smiled. “You mean boo-ful, like you,” he said softly.
Her cheeks warmed. Quit it, she told herself. Twenty-three-year-old widows do not blush. “As soon as I get my reticule, I’m ready to go.” Hoping her face wasn’t as red as the flowers, she reached for the small beaded reticule open on a nearby table. When she picked it up, it slipped from her hand. Coin purse, comb, perfume, and pencil spilled to the floor. Her perfume rolled under a chair.
She stooped to pick them up.
Jake went down on one knee and felt around under the chair for the perfume. His fingers brushed hers. She snatched her hand away as if he’d touched her with a lit match.
“Darlin’,” he said, rising to his feet, “do I make you nervous or something?”
Towering over her—a big, intimidating Ranger officer—he most certainly did.
“Of course not,” she lied. “After last week, we’re practically old friends.” Old friends. Not a good choice of words. She flushed, hoping he wasn’t remembering the kisses.
She threw everything back into the reticule. She pulled the drawstring closed and looked up. “Ready to go?”
“Whoa there. Not so fast. Where’s your father? I’ve been looking forward all day to talking with him tonight.” Jake looked up, as if expecting the senator to step out of the kitchen.
“I’m sorry, Jake, but Dad had to leave. He sent a message an hour ago that he was taking the six-fifteen evening train to Austin. Something came up with the adjutant general, he said. He’ll be back in a couple of days. We’ll make it up when he returns. He’s looking forward to talking with you.”
Jake led her out to the buggy and helped her in.
Elizabeth settled herself comfortably into the soft leather seat and watched him take charge. He drove the buggy and horse with intense concentration, his eyes rarely leaving the road except to dart quick glances around, as if he needed to know where
everything was all the time. Typical Ranger.
Or maybe typical Reconnaissance. He used to be a scout, after all—considered the most trusted and reliable members of the Armed Forces. They were the nameless men who slipped deep inside enemy lines and did whatever they’d been sent to do. And then got themselves out, usually without a trace.
That troubled her.
Jake glanced at her. “I heard you playing the piano the other day at the orphanage,” he said. “You’re very good. I didn’t know you could play like that. And your favorite composer would be . . . ?”
“Chopin for the piano, of course. I like others also, especially Vivaldi for strings. He’s an old one, but he’s wonderful. Some of his pieces nearly make me cry.” She turned in her seat. “Carl used to laugh at me for reacting to music like that.”
Jake brushed aside a flare of annoyance.
Carl this. And Carl that.
His fingers tightened on the reins.
He couldn’t care less what kind of music Carl Evans had liked. Jake guided the buggy into the center of the road, away from the ruts, and searched for something else to talk about other than her dead husband.
Forget Carl Evans.
Bad idea. Evans was part of her past, part of her. Not talking about him would be a mistake. Jake had been in the Cavalry, and he knew better. Knowing your enemy was half the battle.
“Tell me about Carl,” he said. His voice had a tight, tucked-in sound that surprised him.
“What do you want to know?”
Everything. “What was he like?” he asked smoothly, then steeled himself for the answer.
“Wonderful. Always in a good mood.” The answer bubbled up. “One of those people who wake up in the morning whistling. Handsome, smart. Everybody liked him.”
So how do I make you forget him?
“He was a towhead, like you.”
Jake nodded. “You told me.” Twice.
She gazed out the window for a moment, then turned and looked at him, the dimple in her cheek lighting her face. “In some ways, you remind me of him.”
River to Cross, A Page 11
