The Lone Texan

by Jodi Thomas

  "We talked this morning, and he had to leave on a mission," Teagen rushed on. "I told him to go up and wake you, but he said if he saw you, he wasn't sure he could leave. We both knew no one else but him could do this job."

  Her mind had been so full of the night and of loving Drum, it took her a minute for Teagen's words to register. The waitress gave her coffee and offered to bring a breakfast plate, but she shook her head.

  Glancing out the window, she noticed Daniel Torry bounding up the steps. When he made it to the café, he came right to the table.

  "Want to join us for breakfast, Daniel?" Teagen offered. "We're talking about Drum's mission."

  "No, thanks. I eat my breakfast every morning at the bakery. I've put on a few pounds. That little baker tells me it looks good on me." He straddled a chair. "She won't serve me if she smells whiskey on me”

  "You know about this mission?" she said to Daniel, not caring about his sweet tooth.

  He nodded, his smile disappearing. "I offered to go with him, but he turned me down. Said it was too dangerous, and this time he needed me here more."

  "What for?" Sage hadn't had enough sleep to piece together all the parts, but neither man with her was telling her what she wanted to hear.

  "To watch over you and the boys” Daniel said. "His exact words were, 'Keep my family safe, and tell Sage I swear I'll be back.' "

  Sage felt as if she were made of sand and someone had poked holes in her. All emotions drained out of her. "Tell me about this mission.” She stared at Teagen.

  He'd never lied to her or sugarcoated anything he'd ever told her, and he didn't lie now. "Word came from the trackers we put on the carriages when they left Whispering Mountain. One went to Galveston, carrying your almost relative and the judge. The other turned west and disappeared into Skull Alley.”

  "So, the count was behind the attempt?" she guessed. Daniel cut in. "I talked with Miss Bonnie's new husband a few days ago, and he filled in the blanks. He's never been to Skull Alley, but his brother used to talk about what went on there and what the count was like”

  "More than that.” Teagen shook his head. "Travis figured out that Hanover, who calls himself Count, wants the boys dead because he's next in line to be king after them. He'll still have several to kill to reach the crown, but we figure he decided to start with his relatives here first. We think he's their father's brother, who disappeared years ago. If someone got the land for the Smiths, it could have been Hanover himself. He wanted them close so he could destroy that line of the family tree. If so, the boys will never be safe as long as he's alive and is hoping to be king one day.”

  "I always had the feeling he was behind not just the robbery at Shelley's gambling house but the raid on the boys' parents' place” Daniel jumped in again, excited that he'd figured out the puzzle first.

  "We came to the same conclusion last night. Travis left at dawn for Austin, and Drum was saddling up before I could finish with the details. The count is getting ready to go back to Europe. He needed to clean up the loose ends here first, like relatives he didn't need showing up, and collecting enough money to travel back to his family in style.”

  Sage gripped her hands together on her lap as she asked, "What's Drummond's part in this?"

  Neither Teagen nor Daniel seemed in a hurry to tell her.

  Finally, her brother leaned forward and said, "He's going into Skull Alley to arrest Hanover. If that's not possible, Roak will leave him dead."

  "He went into the outlaw camp of over fifty men, alone?"

  "Sage." Teagen made her look up before he spoke. "That's what he does. He's the best any of us have ever seen. He works alone. He goes where not even Rangers will go, and he always finishes the mission.”

  Daniel agreed. "He's a legend. The best among the best. Half the Rangers don't even believe the tales told about him. Now and then he's paid big bounties for those he brings in, but this time, he didn't do it for the money."

  "Why'd he do it this time?"

  Daniel swallowed. "He told me he didn't want a dozen Rangers dying trying to get through Skull Alley, and someone had to stop the count” Daniel didn't meet her eyes. "He said he wanted Andy to sleep without nightmares and Will to stop looking over his shoulder”

  "But Count Hanover is ill. He may already be dead. We heard that guard, Luther, tell us so”

  "Maybe, maybe not. Luther could have been lying to throw us off”

  Sage didn't want to think about Drummond going back to that horrible place alone. If they caught him, they wouldn't just kill him, they'd take pleasure in torturing him first. She reached for her coffee cup, but her hand shook so badly she was afraid to pick it up. It crossed her mind that she might go mad, thinking of the man she'd loved so completely last night riding straight into danger.

  Teagen's big, rough hand covered both hers. "This is what he does, Sage. What he's good at, and you got to believe he'll be back soon. If he didn't think you could handle it, he would have never been able to leave."

  She raised her chin. "I know” She felt Teagen's solid strength moving into her. Drum was doing what he had to do, and now she had to do what women of warriors always had to do. She had to survive.

  "Doc?" a man said from the doorway of the café.

  Sage recognized him as Bonnie's cowboy. "Yes?"

  "Bonnie sent me to see if you were still here. She said to tell you Mrs. Monroe's time is at hand, and it looks like twins”

  Sage stood. "I'm on my way” She might not be able to help Drum right now, but she could do what she'd been born to do. "Grab my bag and the sack of herbs I brought down from the mountain. They're with the saddlebags in the lobby."

  Teagen stood with her, and she saw the pride in his eyes. It seemed the fact that his little sister was a doctor had just struck him.

  She followed Bradford out of the hotel and climbed in the buggy. He drove with a great deal of skill and speed to a shack at the other end of the town.

  As they walked in, he carried her bags. "What can I do to help?"

  She looked at him, still wondering where Bonnie had managed to find him. "Keep the husband busy. This may take a while."

  Bradford nodded as they stepped into a dirty two-room cabin. The place smelled of rotting food and urine. Sage fought to keep from gagging as she crossed the first room and passed by a moth-eaten curtain into the bedroom.

  Bonnie was already there. She'd cleaned off a small table and shoved enough clutter aside for Sage to walk around the bed. Phoebe Monroe lay on the bed curled into a ball.

  Wide-eyed, she looked up at Sage. "Doc. I hurt. I hurt real bad."

  Sage sat on the dirty bedcovers and said in a calm voice, "I'm going to help you, but you've got a lot of work to do”

  Phoebe nodded. "The baby's got to come out. I know that much, but it feels like it's going to split me in half”

  She brushed the girl's hair back. "How old are you, Phoebe?"

  "I'll be fifteen next month. Fred tells me to tell folks I'm eighteen, but you're a doctor, you'd probably know better.” "Fred is your husband?"

  "He says he wants to be soon as he gets work regular”

  Sage looked through the crack in the curtain. The boy in the next room with Bradford didn't look much older than Phoebe.

  Bonnie stepped close. "If you think we've got time, I'd like to go after some clean sheets” She didn't say more. She didn't have to.

  Sage nodded. "Tell Fred to start boiling water."

  Sage began her work. With Bonnie's help, they bathed the girl and made her as comfortable as they could as the contractions grew closer together. She was young, but Phoebe was brave.

  She had to be, Sage thought, to run away with Fred.

  Hours passed, and Bradford brought more lamps in for light. He didn't say anything, but Sage saw the way he looked at Bonnie. The young girl on the bed was not his problem. The woman leaning over her for hours was.

  When Bonnie stepped out for more water, she returned and said, "Bradford made a pot
ato soup and coffee. He said he'd keep it warm for whenever we have time to eat.”

  "He can cook?" Sage smiled. "Where did you find this man, Bonnie?"

  "He kidnapped me," she answered as calmly as if she'd said she'd met him at a church social.

  Phoebe's next contraction drew them back to their work. A little after dawn, Sage delivered twins, one girl and one boy, both healthy.

  When she went out to tell Fred, she almost didn't recognize the main room. It had been cleaned spotless. All the trash was gone. The dirt floor had been swept, and a stack of clean dishes sat on a shelf above the pump.

  "Who did this?" she asked a dozing Bradford.

  "You told me to keep him busy. Cleaning was all I could think of. We did laundry and chopped wood until dark, then we started on this room." He glanced over at Fred, sleeping with his head resting on a log. "He's a little tired."

  When she touched the boy's shoulder, he bolted upright. "Phoebe," he said. "How is Phoebe?"

  "She's fine. You want to see your children?"

  Fred rubbed his eyes and followed her into the little room. As they marveled over their babies, Sage whispered to Bradford, "Take Bonnie home and see that she gets some sleep, would you?"

  He nodded.

  "I'll stay here all day helping out. When you come to get me, bring a box of groceries and whatever you think the babies will need."

  Bradford whispered, "It's time these two grew up."

  Sage agreed as Fred climbed in bed beside Phoebe and went to sleep. "When I leave tonight will be soon enough.”

  "Anything else I can do, Doc?"

  She smiled. "Yes, ask Elmo at the trading post if he knows where this kid can find regular work, and tell Daniel Torry to get his Bible out”

  Sage spent most of the day teaching Phoebe to hold and care for her babies while the new father slept.

  That evening, Bradford returned alone with all the supplies he could fit into the buggy. Apparently, Elmo got the word out, and several mothers, no longer needing cribs, donated all the things the babies would need.

  Sage gave Fred both the babies and helped bring in the supplies.

  She heard Bradford say to the young father. "I brought twenty pounds of potatoes. You know how to make the soup, so make it every night when Phoebe is too busy or too tired. Before you run out of the potatoes, I'll be over to teach you how to do stew. A man, even one with a wife, needs to know how to cook a few things to survive.”

  Fred nodded. "Thanks. Mr. Summerfield."

  "You can call me Brad. You're a man now."

  Sage smiled all the way home. As they climbed out of the buggy, she had to ask, "Where did Bonnie find such a wise man?"

  He tipped his hat at the compliment and answered simply, "She kidnapped me."

  Sage ate a few bites, then went upstairs to her little room. Someone, probably Bradford, she guessed, had collected her things from the hotel. In among them was Drummond's shirt.

  She slipped into it and crawled into bed. He'd been gone two days, and she'd survived. If she was going to love him, she had to accept what he did for a living. Closing her eyes, she slept without dreams. She'd save the dreams until she was back with her man.

  CHAPTER 47

  DRUM RODE AS HARD AS HE COULD PUSH SATAN OVER land cold and dead with winter. When he did stop for a few hours' rest, he forced himself to think only of the count and the danger the boys were in. The memory of Will and Andy's mother all beaten and broken would have made him volunteer for the job, even if Hanover wasn't a threat to Sage. Knowing he was left no question of what had to be done.

  When Drum reached the mission at Goliad, a Ranger, sleeping down by the Guadalupe River, was waiting for him. Captain Harmon had sent him with word that the guard, Luther Waddell, was released for lack of evidence. No witness could put him at or near either the raid on the Smith place or the robbery at Shelley's gambling house. Just being a guard for Hanover wasn't a crime.

  "Cap had him followed," the Ranger reported to Roak. "He was seen walking into Shelley Lander's place. Then he disappeared. He's either still there, or he somehow slipped out after dark by boat."

  "Why'd you ride so far to tell me this?" Drum asked as they walked along the outside of the mission chapel. Hundreds of men, fighting for Texas independence, had died here, shot by a firing squad. The McMurrays had told him once that their father was among the dead. His body lay in the mass grave beyond the mission walls.

  Drum swore he could feel the ghosts walking beside him, even though it had been more than twenty years since the Alamo and Goliad missions fell.

  “The cap thought you might stop here to spend a night or two. He wanted you to know Luther was free."

  He didn't have to say more. This was a frequent relay point for Rangers, a place where they could pass messages without worry, a place where they could rest up if hurt or hide out if running from trouble. No one spoke of it, but Drum figured the Rangers considered themselves protected or at least watched over by the spirits of the brave buried here.

  Pulling out a scrap of paper, Drum wrote three words on it. "Give this to no one but Captain Harmon. Tell him it's from me."

  The Ranger glanced at the paper. "'I'm going in,'" he read. "That's the message?"

  Drum nodded and stepped into the shadows of the mission. The young Ranger was still asking questions when Drum crossed the yard and rode away unseen.

  He rode all night and slept in places where no one would find him. As he moved, he planned. Drum hated it, but he'd have to leave Satan and go in the back way. The horse was lucky to have made it once down the steep incline without breaking a leg; he'd never make it up. On foot it would mean an extra day, but he'd risk it. He'd also have to travel light: less guns, less supplies, less prepared.

  By the time he reached the foot of the incline, he'd planned every detail. He slept off and on until sundown and then began the journey up the incline and through the caves to the outskirts of the outlaw camp.

  It was almost dawn when he reached the edge of the back pasture. He knew he couldn't make it across before sunup. So he climbed into a tree and found a secure place to sleep until dark.

  He almost laughed, remembering how he'd fallen out of trees a few times before he perfected this sleeping method. It wasn't comfortable, but it was definitely safer. Men hunting him tended to study the ground. He made a habit of leaving footprints heading away from the tree. The dried leaves still hanging to the branches offered him some cover, but the ones on the ground offered him an alarm system if anyone walked near.

  Drum slept. In his dreams he couldn't push Sage to the back of his mind. She was with him, cuddled against his side.

  The wind kicked up in late afternoon, and the air turned to freezing. Drum barely noticed the cold. His mind was full of what he had to do. He slipped silently down from the tree and moved as a shadow across the pasture.

  When he reached the dark side of the barn, he stood and listened as he watched the house Daniel Torry had said looked as if it could be where Luther's wife and child might be staying.

  Nothing. Not a sound. If she and the boy were inside, they'd gone to bed before dark.

  Drum waited until all sounds died in the village, then he walked the shadows toward the big house. The count's house.

  A guard sat on the corner of the front porch railing, his gun over his leg as he smoked.

  Moving around back, Drum wasn't surprised to find the second guard asleep by the back door.

  Silently, he slipped to the side of the house and climbed up to the second floor. People often lock their doors and windows on the first floor but rarely on the second. The third window he tried opened easily.

  He slipped into the room, which was cold and dark. Furniture was scattered about among boxes. Crossing carefully, he opened the door and saw a lamp burning low outside the last door.

  He walked down the hallway and opened the last door. The smell of a sickroom floated on the stale air as he looked in. A man, thin and pale, lay in the
middle of a big bed. He looked asleep, but even awake, he didn't look strong enough to fight.

  Drum slipped his gun from its holster and moved inside.

  Candles burned on both sides of the man, but the rest of the room was dark. A fire crackled in the corner fireplace. A teapot, giving off the smell of burned berries, sat on the bricks of the hearth.

  Drum moved to the bed, knowing what he had to do.

  "If you shoot him.” a voice came from the shadows, "half the men in town will be waiting for you when you step out of this place.”

  Drum fought the urge to fire into the darkness. "Who are you?"

  "I'm Myron, the count's butler.” He took a deep breath. "And I'm a prisoner here, Mr. Roak, just as you will be unless we are both very careful.”

  A short, chubby man moved into the light. His clothes were worn but clean, and Drum noticed bruises fading on his face. He'd been beaten recently.

  Myron must have known what Drum saw, for the man raised his head slightly. "He's been too weak to beat me for a week. He's left orders that I'm to be killed when he dies as if I'm not more than a pet to him.”

  "How do you know who I am?" Drum remembered Sage speaking of Myron. She'd said he'd tried to help her. That fact was all that was keeping the butler alive right now.

  "Luther told me you'd be coming." Myron smiled. "How is the little doctor?"

  Drum wasn't here to pass the time of day. "If you know who I am, you know I've come here to kill him. Arresting him and getting him out of here would be impossible."

  Drum watched the man in the bed, who showed no sign of waking. "What's wrong with him?"

  Myron held his hands palm up. "I've been poisoning him for weeks. Just enough to make him weak, not enough to kill him. Luther said you'd come, and when you did, we'd have to be ready to go out a secret way with you.”

  Drum frowned. "I don't take passengers.”

  "You have to. When you kill him, I have to escape, and Luther says he can get his family out in the chaos that follows.” Footsteps sounded.

  "That'll be the guard change at midnight. Step into the shadows."

  Drum kept his gun on the door, but he did what Myron said.