Texas Heart

by Ruth Ryan Langan

  Nor did the cold, calculating look in the man's eye.

  "His name is Cole Matthews. He saved my life last night. Which, I might add, doesn't give him the tight to swear in my presence."

  She turned to him with a murderous look.

  "Cole, these are my brothers, Danny and Thad."

  "Do you know where our pa is?"

  Thad chirped.

  Cole was instantly alert.

  "I thought your sister said he was in Abilene."

  Danny, carefully watching the stranger, made no move to offer a handshake.

  Instead he asked, "How'd you happen to save my sister's life?"

  "He was camped nearby when some men pestered me."

  Pestered.

  Danny wasn't fooled by the words.

  A boy like Thad might think nothing of it, but Danny was old enough to understand the implications.

  He continued to stare at the stranger.

  "What did you do?"

  Cole's voice was devoid of all emotion.

  "I killed them."

  "How many?"

  "Three. One got away."

  Danny studied the man a minute longer, anger and relief churning inside him.

  what would four men do to a girl like Jessie?

  She wouldn't have stood a chance alone.

  He was glad the stranger had come to her rescue.

  He just wished the man didn't look so dangerous.

  Like a rattler coiled to strike.

  He turned to face his sister.

  "I guess something just told me you needed us. That's why we're here."

  She felt a wave of tenderness toward her sensible brother before she pushed aside such feelings.

  There was no place for tenderness now.

  She had to be tough.

  "Well, you're going back in the morning. You know you and Thad can't make the trip all the way across Texas."

  "We're not going back, Jess."

  Though his voice cracked, Danny's tone was determined.

  "You can't make us."

  She glanced from Danny to Thad and watched as the little boy released her hand and stepped back in a show of defiance.

  He glanced uncertainly at his brother, then looked up to meet her steady gaze.

  "Thaddeus Francis Conway. You'd disobey me, too?"

  Cole watched as the little boy glanced quickly at his brother, then nodded his head.

  "We're family, Jessie. And Pa always said family sticks together."

  Her eyes grew stormy.

  "How could you do this to him, Danny? You know Thad can't make this trip."

  "He made it this far, didn't he?"

  Danny put a hand on his little brother's shoulder.

  "We've been riding since yesterday afternoon. We only stopped long enough to sleep a few hours before climbing into the saddle again. And Thad never complained once."

  "But..."

  "We're not going back, Jess. We have as much right as you to find out what happened to Pa."

  At this, Cole found himself suddenly very interested.

  It was obvious that the girl hadn't told him everything.

  Without waiting for her reply, Danny bent and picked up the rifle that had fallen from his hands when he'd leaped from his horse.

  Seeing it, Cole gave a muttered oath.

  All three looked up at him questioningly.

  "Where'd you get that rifle?"

  "It's my Pa's," Danny said with pride.

  "What were you aiming to shoot, a whole herd of buffalo?"

  "What do you mean?"

  Cole set his own Winchester on the ground and reached out a hand.

  Reluctantly Danny handed him the rifle.

  "This is a Sharps breechloader.

  It can bring down a buffalo from a couple of hundred yards.

  It you used it on a man, you'd blow him clean away.

  "Good."

  Danny took back the gun and gave him a meaningful look.

  "That's what I'd do to anyone who threatened to hurt my brother or sister."

  Cole's smile faded.

  The kid's message was loud and clear.

  "I think," he said, "we'd all better get some sleep: And in the morning, the three of you ought to head for home."

  "Are we going home, Jessie?"

  Thad asked softly.

  She stared at Cole for a moment, then turned her gaze toward her little brother.

  Wrapping an arm about his shoulders, she drew him close.

  "If I take you and Danny home, I'll lose two days. And even then, I can't be certain you'll stay there after I leave. You could just turn around and follow me again."

  "Does that mean you're taking us with you?"

  She studied the little boy for long silent moments.

  "I guess it means we've got a long way to go before we see home again.

  Come on. Let's get some sleep."

  Cole watched as Jessie caught up the reins of the two horses and led them toward the camp fire.

  The little boy walked beside her, his exhaustion evident in the way he straggled to match her strides.

  Danny, hugging the rifle to his chest, brought up the rear.

  As he retrieved his own rifle, Cole bit back a torrent of oaths.

  How the hell had he gotten himself into this?

  It was bad enough when he'd been stuck with the girl.

  But he had no intention of playing nursemaid to a pint-size version of Jessie and a young bull who was itching to test his manhood with a buffalo gun.

  He watched in silence as Jessie fixed her brothers' bedrolls beside hers.

  "Did you two have anything to eat?"

  Danny nodded.

  "I heated up some of the rabbit stew you left us."

  He held up a leather pouch tied to his saddle.

  "And I brought along as much mill as I could carry. But it curdled in the heat. Now it's more like buttermilk."

  Jessie chuckled at the look of revulsion on Thad's face.

  "Don't worry, Tadpole. I won't make you drink it. I never could abide curdled mill myself. Looks like you'll have to settle for coffee in the morning."

  "I'd like that," the little boy said before adding softly, "Pa always drinks coffee."

  Jessie saw the tears that sprang to his eyes before he could blink them away.

  She knelt and ruffled his hair before drawing him close against her.

  "I know you miss him, Tadpole. So do I."

  Forcing a cheerful note to her voice, she added, "Won't Pa be surprised to see how much you've grown?"

  "Yeah."

  He sniffed against her shoulder.

  "Maybe by the time we find him, I'll be as big as you."

  "Maybe."

  She kissed the top of his head before standing.

  "Now I think you two had better climb into those bedrolls and get some sleep. We've got a long ride ahead of us in the morning."

  "How about you, Jess?"

  Danny asked, keeping an eye on Cole, who was pouring coffee into a tin cup.

  "I'll just see to your horses before I sleep."

  She watched as the two boys slipped off their boots.

  Thad curled up in his blanket and closed his eyes.

  Within minutes he was sound asleep.

  Danny set the buffalo rifle in the blankets beside him and clasped his hands beneath his head.

  His eyes, she noted, followed every movement Cole made.

  There was no doubt that Danny had no intention of trusting the gunman.

  When the horses were fed and carefully tethered, Jessie watched as Cole drained the last cup of coffee from the pot and handed her a steaming cup.

  "Thanks."

  She wrapped her hands around it, inhaling the warmth.

  Cole glanced toward Danny and saw the boy struggling to keep his eyes open.

  Nodding toward him, Cole murmured, "You're not really going to take them along, are you?"

  "Looks like I don't have a choice."
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  "People always have choices."

  His voice was low with repressed anger.

  "Take them home where they belong. Where you belong."

  "It won't be much of a home without Pa, will it?"

  "Feel like telling me about what's going on?"

  "I can't."

  He stared at her and saw for the first time all the fear and hopelessness she was feeling.

  Without thinking, he robbed his knuckles across her cheek.

  The flare of heat was so sudden, so shocking, he was nearly rocked back on his heels.

  His eyes narrowed as he studied her.

  The smooth flesh beneath his hand was the softest he'd ever felt.

  Softer even than a newborn foal.

  Without realizing it, his hand opened until his callused fingertips were caressing her cheek.

  Jessie stood frozen to the spot.

  It was as if someone had tied her hands to her sides, rendering her unable to move.

  Strange stirrings rippled through her, constricting her throat, making it impossible to speak.

  The breeze lifted a strand of her hair and Cole caught it.

  Silk.

  Silkier even than those dresses Maud Hennings's whores wore when they were working the saloon.

  He watched, fascinated, as the strands sifted through his fingers.

  He had a sudden, almost overwhelming desire to plunge both his hands into her hair and savage her mouth with kisses.

  Jessie glanced up in time to see the way Cole's eyes narrowed.

  Whatever was he thinking?

  Did he have any idea what his touch was doing to her?

  Did it affect him the same way it was affecting her?

  Or was a man immune to such feelings?

  Tiny pinpricks of pleasure shot along her spine, leaving her trembling inside.

  She lowered her gaze, afraid to look at him, afraid her feelings might be mirrored in her eyes.

  Nobody had every touched her with such tenderness.

  It made her want to melt against him and hang on for dear life.

  His tone softened.

  "Look, I know something's wrong, and it has to do with your father.

  But taking two kids all the way across Texas won't solve anything. Go home, Jessie."

  When she made no response, he placed a finger beneath her chin and lifted her face, forcing her to meet his gaze.

  Inside she felt her heart lurch, felt the blood heat and rush to her head, leaving her dizzy.

  "Go home," he said softly, coaxingly.

  "It's the only logical choice."

  She could stand here like this all night, feeling his fingers on her flesh, his gaze boring through to her very soul.

  But if she did, she would forget how to breathe.

  Her heart would forget how to beat.

  "Choice."

  With a supreme effort she twisted her head to free herself from his touch.

  She took a step back, breaking contact.

  She felt her mind beginning to clear.

  Lifting her head in a gesture of defiance, she fixed him with a steady gaze.

  "What about your choice? Why are you out here on the trail, drawing a gun at every shadow?"

  His tone hardened.

  "That's none of your business."

  "And what I do is none of yours."

  He clamped his mouth shut on the words that sprang to his lips.

  Damned obstinate female.

  "You choose to follow the trail, knowing that someone is out there in the darkness, sniffing at your heels. Well, Cole Matthews, I choose to go across Texas, knowing it's the only way I can find out what happened to my pa."

  "You don't know where he is?"

  When she looked away and shook her head, he continued.

  "You could wire the sheriff in some of the towns and forts. Give a description of your father and ask to be notified of anyone who fits that description."

  "I guess you haven't had much dealings with sheriffs," she said with a note of derision.

  "And you have?"

  She shrugged.

  "Not me. My pa. He always said the two things he was determined to keep away from were fast women and men who wore badges."

  "Why?"

  "He said both are quick on the draw, and both feel their profession gives them the right to do anything they want to a man."

  Despite his frustration, Cole nearly laughed aloud.

  Did she have any idea how beguiling she looked when she was angrily spouting her father's ramblings without having any idea what they meant?

  Stung by his laughter, she tossed the bitter dregs of the coffee on the fire and watched as the flames hissed and snapped.

  Turning on her heel, she walked ramrod straight to the bedroll and pulled off her boots.

  Climbing in beside her two brothers, she rolled over and closed her eyes, ignoring the soft ramble of laughter still issuing from Cole.

  As soon as she had fallen asleep, Cole climbed up to the craggy outcropping of rock, his rifle in his arms, watching the trail below.

  While he kept watch, he thought about the three Conways sleeping peacefully in their bedrolls.

  This strange, primitive countryside bred strong, independent people like them.

  Imagine one skinny little woman trying to comb half the West for a missing father.

  What was worse, she intended to drag two fool kids along.

  He thought about his own childhood on a windswept stretch of Texas soil as he rolled a cigarette and leaned his back against the cool rock.

  Taking a deep drag, he filled his lungs and slowly exhaled.

  Whether he sympathized with her or not, he wanted no part of Jessie Conway and her brothers.

  He had no time for their problems.

  He'd tried to talk to them like a friend.

  He'd pointed out the dangers, had urged them to go home where they'd be safe.

  There was nothing more he could do for them.

  He had no intention of being their damned nursemaid.

  He thought of Jessie's soft skin and found he was itching to touch her again.

  Dangerous thoughts, he warned himself.

  He'd been too long without a woman.

  Life on the trail could turn a man into something resembling the coyotes who cried their mournful songs to the moon.

  Out here men and animals often behaved in the same way in order to survive.

  He closed his eyes, allowing himself to recall for just a moment longer the way her skin felt against his fingertips.

  Soft.

  So damned soft he'd wanted to crash her in his arms and take her right there beside the fire.

  Beneath a canopy of stars, he smoked until the cigarette burned his fingers.

  Dropping it, he crushed the butt beneath his heel and walked to his bedroll.

  He would grab an hour or two of sleep before hitting the trail.

  By the time Jessie Conway and her brothers awoke in the morning, he told himself firmly, he'd be long gone.

  Chapter Four

  Jessie lay in that soft gauzy twilight between waking and sleeping.

  Drifting on a cloud of contentment, she snuggled deeper into her blanket.

  Nearby a twig snapped and she thought about opening her eyes, but the need for sleep was too powerful an urge.

  Rolling to her side, she drew the blanket over her head to blot out the shuffling sounds that intruded on her comfort.

  Shuffling sounds.

  Like muted footsteps.

  Instantly alert, she slid the blanket from her head and opened her eyes.

  A tall wiry figure moved among the horses.

  Raising her head slightly, Jessie peered through the gray light of dawn.

  The figure was too gaunt, too thin to belong to Cole.

  It was a stranger.

  A stranger who was tying their horses to a rope.

  God in heaven!

  Someone was stealing their horses.
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  She lay perfectly still, agonizing over what to do.

  Her gun.

  Jessie felt around the blanket for the gun she had carelessly set beneath her head before falling asleep.

  Where was her gun?

  Her fingertips brushed cold metal.

  She closed her hand around it and wondered if she dared to use it.

  She couldn't risk having a trail bum kill her little brothers.

  But without their horses, they would be helpless against this harsh land and elements.

  When the stranger finished tying the last of their horses, he turned.

  Lying perfectly still, Jessie tracked his movements through partially closed lids.

  He walked around the embers of the fire and stopped at the foot of their bedrolls.

  Jessie's heart was pounding so loudly in her chest, she was certain the stranger could hear it.

  Garbed all in black, with a black hat pulled low over his face, he peered intently at Danny, whose blanket covered all but one slender hand.

  Just below that hand, Jessie knew, lay the buffalo rifle.

  Thankfully it was not visible from the stranger's vantage point.

  Next the stranger scanned the tip of Thad's blond head poking out from his bedroll.

  In sleep he looked like an angelic cherub.

  Squeezing her eyes tightly shut, she tensed, knowing that the stranger's gaze was now scanning her figure.

  With the blanket pulled up over her face, she prayed he would think she was just another skinny kid.

  Her hand, closed tightly around her pistol, trembled slightly.

  Cold beads of perspiration formed on her forehead.

  She waited, fearing that the stranger would yank the blanket away and discover the gun in her hand.

  He would aim and she would be forced to do the same.

  A slight movement alerted her that the stranger had moved away.

  With terror gripping her heart, she opened her eyes.

  The man was now standing over Cole's bedroll.

  Please, God, Jessie prayed, don't let Cole wake up.

  If he did, the man would certainly shoot him where he lay.

  Cole sighed in his sleep.

  A familiar click sounded beside his temple.

  Sleep vanished.

  His dreams disappeared.

  Cold reality had him instantly alert.

  With eyes tightly shut, he assessed his situation.

  His gun rested just under his left shoulder.

  He was lying on his left side, with his right hand resting on his chest.

  Even though his eyes were still closed, he knew that someone stood over him with a drawn gun.