The Ranger And The Widow Woman

by Bagwell, Stella

  “Randall spilled the beans,” she said as she flipped two perfectly browned pancakes.

  “I should have known. You’d have to put duct tape on that guy’s mouth to keep him quiet,” he muttered irritably. “I don’t know how Dad has put up with him all these years.”

  Justine’s head twisted around, and she stared at her son with dismay. “Charlie! That’s an awful thing to say. Randall has been more than a working colleague with your father all these years. He’s also been his friend. Why, if it wasn’t for Randall, Roy might not have ever learned you were his son.”

  Charlie rolled his eyes. “That’s exactly what I’m talking about. The man can’t keep his mouth shut.”

  From Justine’s expression, Violet could tell the woman was disappointed, even disturbed by Charlie’s attitude. Since she didn’t know the person they were talking about, it was impossible to know who was in the right. Yet the whole thing told Violet that Charlie was obviously acting out of character and it was troubling his mother.

  “I thought you always liked Randall,” Justine said. She lifted the pancakes from the skillet and placed them on the stack she’d already cooked.

  “I do like the man,” Charlie conceded. “He just needs to keep his mouth shut.”

  Justine sighed but didn’t say anything else. Charlie glanced around the room, then settled his gaze on Violet “Where’s Sam? Still asleep?”

  She was surprised he’d noticed the absence of her son. Though he’d been kind to Sam, he hadn’t gone out of his way to pay attention to him, either.

  “He’s drinking his orange juice on the front porch,” she told him, then deciding now would be a good time to give Charlie and his mother a few moments alone, she added, “The pancakes are almost ready. I’ll go get him.”

  Once she had scurried out of the room, Charlie moved back over to the gas range where his mother was pouring the last of the batter into a black iron skillet.

  “Did Violet explain why she was here?” he asked.

  “Her car. You’ve already said as much,” Justine answered, then glanced over her shoulder at him. “Why? Is there something else?”

  Grimacing, Charlie shrugged. “Money.”

  When she didn’t make any response, he said, “Aren’t you going to groan and tell me I’m a fool?”

  His mother gave him a wry smile, and Charlie suddenly realized how much he’d missed his family and how long it had been since he’d been able to spend time and be a real part of them.

  “No. You’re a grown man. You ought to know what you’re doing by now.”

  He ought to, Charlie thought. But he didn’t. Where women were concerned he’d started out on a bad course and headed downward ever since. It wasn’t that he didn’t like female companionship. Truth was he probably liked it too much. But women needed time and attention. They needed a man to commit their heart and soul to them. They couldn’t understand that the star pinned to his breast was the real love of his life.

  “I’m not like Dad,” he said.

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “He has you.”

  “Oh, Charlie, you—” she began gently, then broke off as Violet and Sam entered the room.

  Violet glanced from mother to son and back again. “Is—would you like for us to wait outside a few more minutes?”

  Charlie and Justine stared at her, and Violet’s face blushed deep pink. “Well, uh—I know you two haven’t seen each other in a while and you’d probably like to talk alone.”

  Justine was the first to respond. “Don’t be silly, Violet. The pancakes are all ready. Charlie and I don’t need to be alone to talk. Do we, son?”

  “No. Mother’s good at talking even in a crowd. She’s never at a loss for words.”

  Chuckling, Justine went to the gas range and collected the plate of pancakes. “I imagine Violet has already figured out for herself that I’m a little gabby.”

  Sam tugged on his mother’s hand. “Mommy, what’s gabby? Does that mean she’s sick?”

  Justine laughed while Violet shook her head at her son. “No. That means she talks a lot. Like you do sometimes.”

  Justine placed the pancakes and meat platter in the middle of the table and everyone took their seats and began to fill their plates.

  In spite of his slender build Sam was a hearty eater. He paid little attention to the adults as he stuffed bites of syrupdrenched pancakes into his mouth.

  Still feeling as if she was in the way, Violet concentrated on her food, too. She didn’t want Justine or Charlie to feel as though they had to include her in their conversation. She was a stranger to them. They were family. And not the sort of family she’d come from. She could tell just by the interaction between mother and son that the Pardees were a loving, closely knit group.

  “How is Caroline?” Charlie eventually asked. “Is she going to be coming home anytime soon?”

  “Your sister is fine. But I doubt she’ll be coming home while you’re here. She’s going to be showing some of her jewelry in California for the next few weeks.”

  Charlie reached for the platter of meat, and as he helped himself to several slices of bacon, Violet wondered what his life back in Fort Worth was like. Did he cook for himself or eat out? Did a girlfriend or live-in love see that he was fed in the morning or after a hard day’s work? She knew it was crazy, even dangerous to be so curious about him. But she couldn’t seem to stop herself. It was like he’d already become rooted in her brain and she couldn’t pull him out.

  “I guess Dad had already gone to work when you headed over here,” he said to his mother.

  Justine shook her head. “Actually he was coming with me, but before we could get into the truck he got a call. He said to tell you he’d see you later.”

  He reached for his coffee cup. “Duty calls.”

  Violet glanced at Justine. Did the older woman detect the acidity in her son’s voice, or had Violet imagined it?

  “Oh, yes, duty calls,” she said between bites. “After all these years of being a sheriff’s son and then being a law-man yourself, you know all about it.” She glanced across the table at Violet. “I noticed you aren’t wearing a wedding band. Have you ever been married?”

  “Mom!” Charlie growled.

  “Oh, hush, Charlie,” she scolded cheerfully. “I’m sure you’ve already asked.”

  Once again Violet felt herself blushing. She wasn’t used to being the topic of discussion. While growing up she’d been a bone of contention between her parents, so she had deliberately avoided joining their conversations. She wouldn’t know what it was like to be as Charlie, with two loving parents making a fuss over her.

  “My husband was killed in a plane crash a little over a year ago,” she said to Justine.

  Justine’s expression was suddenly full of compassion. “Oh, my dear, how awful for you. I was just going to tell you that at times being married to a lawman is almost being like a widow. But you obviously know how wrong that is. Almost isn’t anything like what you’re going through.”

  Violet’s eyes darted from Justine to Charlie. His attention was on his plate, his features closed. He wasn’t married, and he was a lawman. Was there a connection? she wondered. Or had Charlie simply had a bad experience with a woman?

  “I wouldn’t know anything about lawmen or their married life,” Violet told her. “But I do know about being a widow.”

  Justine shook her head regretfully. “I’m sorry you had to learn at such an early age. It isn’t fair. But then Charlie will tell you the only fair he knows about has show animals and carnival rides.”

  The sidelong glance he shot at his mother was mocking. “A person is better off knowing the odds are against him from the start, Mom. A man with stars in his eyes is only bound to get hurt.”

  Justine studied her son for a moment, and Violet knew there was something on her mind she wanted to tell him, but the other woman merely sighed and went back to eating her breakfast Violet did the same.

  N
early an hour later, after breakfast was eaten and the kitchen clean again, Justine announced she had to get back to the ranch. Charlie immediately grabbed her by the arm and insisted on walking her out to her pickup.

  Once mother and son reached the vehicle, Justine smiled slyly up at him. “Okay. What do you want to say to me that you couldn’t in front of Violet?”

  Charlie shook his head with resignation. “I can’t ever fool you, can I?”

  Justine laughed. “Not much,” she said, then her laughter sobered and she asked, “Are you worried you’re going to be stuck with this woman or worried that you’re not?”

  The rush of air that passed his lips was something between a laugh and a rough sigh. “I don’t know. What do you think...about her, I mean?”

  Her eyes scanned his strong face. “What I think doesn’t matter. It’s what you think.”

  Charlie thought Violet meant trouble for him. But if he were to tell his mother that, she wouldn’t understand. On the other hand she might understand too much. That was the problem with being close to someone, he thought. They could read him, see inside him and know what his heart was really feeling. He wasn’t about to let Violet get that close.

  “Like I told you earlier, she has a money problem. She doesn’t have enough to get her car repaired. She needs a job.”

  “What sort of skills does she have?”

  He glanced back at the house. Violet and Sam were on the porch, but they were too far away to hear any of his conversation. “She said she’d been working as a bookkeeper. But you and I both know that no employer would bother hiring someone for a job of that sort unless they intended to stay for the long haul. And Violet insists she’s heading on to California.”

  “California?” Justine repeated quizzically. “What’s there? Some of her family?”

  Charlie shook his head. “She doesn’t have family. There’s nothing in California for her except this dream she has of making a home for her and her son there.”

  Justine considered his words. “There’s nothing wrong with that. A woman has a right to dream, Charlie, even if she can’t make it come true in the next year or even the next.”

  “Oh hell, Mom, I understand that. But Violet doesn’t need to be—well, it doesn’t make sense—it’s not safe or practical for her to be driving her and her son off to God only knows where without someone to watch out for them.”

  Justine sighed. “Is that what this is all about, Charlie, her safety? Son, I know you need to—”

  Charlie quickly interrupted with a shake of his head. The last thing he wanted was a lecture from his mother. She normally kept her opinions to herself, but on those rare occasions she did let loose on him, Charlie usually ended up feeling like hell. Mainly because she was always right, and he was too stubborn to admit it. “I know that’s none of my business. I just think...I’m going to offer her a job and a place to stay here. Until she can get her car fixed.”

  If Justine was surprised at his plans, she didn’t show it. Instead, she patted his big hand which was still wrapped around her forearm. “I don’t see anything wrong with that, son. But what sort of job are you talking about?”

  He shrugged. “Well, the place has been needing some work done on it for some time. I thought Violet might help me do some painting and wallpapering. Things like that. I realize it wouldn’t be like bookkeeping, but at least it would be a job.”

  Justine nodded thoughtfully. “Now that you mention it, I might have a little work for Violet, too. Since your cousin Emily gave birth to little Harlan Cooper, she’s been doing accounting work again in her home, so your dad and I turned our ranch books over to her. But I still have a lot of personal record keeping that she could do for me.”

  “Would you really be willing to do that?” Charlie asked.

  Smiling gently, she said, “I like your Violet. If I can help her, I’ll be glad to.”

  Charlie shot her a wearied but indulgent look. “She’s not my Violet, Mom. And don’t even begin to think it.”

  Justine chuckled. “I know, darling. You’ve sworn off women. How could I forget?”

  He frowned at her, and she raised up on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. “I’ve got to go. When you get rested and caught up around here, bring Violet over to the ranch and I’ll box up all the paperwork I’ve been neglecting. And if you decide to come around suppertime we might just be having chili rellenos,” she added impishly.

  Charlie opened the door for her, then stepped back after she’d climbed in and started the motor.

  “We’ll be over soon,” he promised, then lifted his hand in farewell.

  After his mother’s truck had disappeared behind the desert hills, Charlie turned and walked slowly back to the house. Violet was sitting on the floor of the porch with Sam, looking almost like a teenager as she pushed a little tractor back and forth to her son.

  Since breakfast, she had dressed in a pair of yellow shorts and a turquoise blouse. Her hair was pulled into a ponytail on the crown of her head. Yet her sad, wary eyes gave her away. She wasn’t a carefree teenager. She was a widow with problems.

  Violet glanced up at Charlie as he climbed the steps. “Is everything all right?”

  “Yes. Why? What could be wrong?”

  She ignored Sam’s persistent pat on her leg and continued to look up at Charlie. “Me, I suppose.”

  Charlie gave her one of his rare, twisted grins. “I really didn’t see my mother giving you the cold shoulder.”

  “No. Your mother couldn’t have been nicer. But she loves you. I expect she would treat anyone in your house with respect.”

  “Not anyone,” he disagreed. “She’s not that nice.”

  He walked across the porch and took a seat in one of the wooden chairs.

  “Mommy, you’re not playing anymore,” Sam reminded her. “Can I go get my other toys?”

  Violet turned her attention to her son. “Yes. But only the ones in the green bag. Don’t get into our suitcases. And after you find the toys, come right back here to the porch.”

  “Okay,” he promised, then raced into the house.

  The screen door banged loudly behind him. Violet sighed. “I’m sorry about all this.”

  “This?” he asked dryly.

  Nodding, she glanced away from him. “This noise. This trouble. This interruption of your vacation.”

  Charlie couldn’t recall knowing anyone who apologized as much as Violet. She seemed to truly feel she was a burden. Was this an idea she always carried around with her, he wondered. Or was he causing her to feel unwanted and in the way?

  “Can’t you say something else besides I’m sorry?” he growled. “I’m the one who brought you here. If you’re making me miserable, it’s my own fault. Not yours.”

  Her nostrils flared as she turned her head slightly and stared at him. “You have such a wonderful way with words, Charlie Pardee,” she drawled. “Now if you don’t mind, I’d appreciate a ride into Ruidoso. Just name your price for the trip. I have the cash to pay you.”

  He pointed his finger at her. “That’s another thing. You ought to know better than to tell someone you have cash on you.”

  Violet couldn’t stop herself. She leaned across the space separating them, grabbed his forefinger and wrenched it backward. “Don’t be pointing at me,” she said hotly. “I asked you for a ride. Not a safety lecture!”

  She dropped his hand and he glared at her as he rubbed the middle knuckle. “Where did you get that temper? It’s going to get you into trouble,” he warned.

  “Funny, but till I met you I didn’t know I had one,” she quipped.

  “I’ll bet.”

  She continued to hold his gaze. But it was very hard. Every time she looked into his azure blue eyes, all she could think about was the way he’d kissed her. The way his lips had felt and tasted, the way his big arms had crushed her up against his chest.

  “What about the ride? Sam and I need to be on our way.”

  “Why the sudden rush?” he demand
ed. “You didn’t appear to be in a hurry to leave here before breakfast.”

  She couldn’t take it any longer. Her heart was thrumming, and her thoughts drifting. She had to look down and away from his eyes before she forgot what the heck they were talking about.

  “I do have manners. And I didn’t want to appear ungrateful. Especially in front of someone as gracious as your mother.”

  Folding his arms against his chest, Charlie stared out at the distant mesa. “I see. You don’t want to insult my mother, but I’m a different matter.”

  She rubbed at a tiny freckle on the top of her thigh. “Not exactly. I don’t necessarily want to insult you, either. I just want to get out of here.”

  Why were all women so independent nowadays? Charlie inwardly fumed. They all believed they knew how to take care of themselves and conquer the world in the process. And they didn’t need a man to hold their hand while they did it. At least they didn’t think they needed a man. He had altogether different ideas about that.

  It was one of the reasons Charlie had quit looking for love. He was a man. And being needed was essential to the male makeup. It was as necessary as being loved. But so far Charlie hadn’t found a woman who wanted him more than her independence, and he hadn’t found a woman he wanted more than being a ranger.

  Dropping his hold on her wrist, he gave her a smirk that vaguely resembled a smile. “Forget about going into Ruidoso. You’re staying here for a while.”

  She sucked in a shocked breath. “Staying here? Says who?”

  “Me. I’m offering you a job. No—I’m offering you two jobs.”

  Charlie’s words brought Violet rushing to her feet. With her hands jammed in her shorts pockets, she circled around to the front of Charlie’s chair and stared at him as if he were a fresh discovery under a microscope.

  “You’re offering me a job? What do you mean? What sort of job?”

  His blue eyes sliced across her face. “Hmm. Now you’re interested. A few minutes ago you wanted to get the hell out of here. But that shouldn’t surprise me. Every woman I’ve ever met is fickle.”