Blood Ties: A Texas Ranger Will Kirkpatrick Novel

by James J. Griffin

  “Well, I guess I’ve spent enough time here, Max,” he said. “I’d better get on over to the house before word reaches my folks I’m in town. You gonna be at the wedding?”

  “I sure am. Just about the whole town’ll be there.”

  “Because they wanna be, or because my father summoned them?”

  “A little of both,” Spurr admitted. “You’re well aware no one in this town dares say no when your pa asks them for somethin’. At the same time, when your family does throw a party, they have nothin’ but the best. Since your sister’s weddin’ll be the biggest affair this town’s ever seen, it should be some time. Most folks are lookin’ forward to eatin’ and drinkin’ real good come Saturday. I know me and mine sure are.”

  “Even me’n Dolly are invited,” Mason added. “Our kids, too. Lily’s just a baby, but we were told she’s welcome.”

  “Then if I don’t run into you boys around town, I’ll see you there,” Will answered. “C’mon, Jonas, let’s go. Time for you to meet my family.”

  “See ya later, Will, Jonas,” Mason said. “Try’n stay out of trouble.”

  “I always do,” Will answered.

  “Yeah, right. Sure you do,” Spurr muttered, under his breath. “Adios, amigos,” he added, loud enough to be heard.

  Will and Jonas retrieved their horses, mounted, and made the short ride to Will’s family’s home, which was a large, two-story native limestone mansion, surrounded on three sides by a wide porch. Potted flowers and plants hung from the porch ceiling, and rocking chairs seemed to extend an invitation to visitors to sit and relax. The house was situated on a rise at the north end of town, from where it commanded a view of all of Kirkpatrick. When he first saw the house, Jonas yanked Rebel to a halt. He sat in his saddle, staring at the magnificent structure.

  “This is where you grew up?” he exclaimed.

  “Yup,” Will said.

  “And you left all this to be a Ranger, gettin’ paid thirty a month and found, sleepin’ on the hard ground, eatin’ lousy grub, and gettin’ shot at, with a horse your best friend?”

  “Yup again. And I’ve never regretted it.”

  Jonas shook his head.

  “I purely can’t figure you, Will Kirkpatrick.”

  “Mebbe you’ll understand a bit more about me before we leave this town,” Will said. “C’mon, no point in puttin’ this off.” He walked Pete the short distance to the house, then he and Jonas dismounted and tied their mounts to two of the four black wrought iron horsehead hitching posts in front of the house. Will heaved a sigh as they walked up the brick sidewalk, another when they climbed the stairs and crossed the porch.

  “We’ll have to take our spurs off, Jonas,” he said, reaching down to unbuckle the left one from his boot. “Can’t have ’em cuttin’ up the rugs, or gougin’ the floors.”

  “You sure we won’t have to take off every blamed thing we’re wearin’?” Jonas asked, only half-kiddingly.

  “Don’t give my mother any ideas,” Will cautioned. He unbuckled his other spur, then dropped them to the porch floor, as did Jonas with his. Once that was done, Will lifted the iron ring door knocker and rapped it against the heavy oak door, three times. A moment later, a face appeared in the door’s leaded glass window, then it opened, answered by a young, red-haired green-eyed Irish woman, who wore a maid’s uniform.

  “Master William. You’re home. Miss Susan will be so pleased you came back for her wedding.”

  “Peggy, I’ve told you over and over again I’m not Master William, just plain Will.”

  “Sure, and ye want me to lose me job,” Peggy retorted. “The mister or missus would toss me out on me bum if they ever heard me not addressing ye as Master William. I see ye’ve brought a friend home with ye…and a very handsome one too, he is. Will ye introduce me, already?”

  Her green eyes took on a devilish glint.

  “Of course,” Will said. “This is my new riding pardner, Jonas Peterson. Jonas, Margaret O’Connell, known to all of us as Peggy. She’s been with the family for quite a few years now. I don’t know how my mother would ever manage the house without Peggy, and Delia, the cook.”

  “Aye, and don’t be makin’ me sound like an ancient old maid in front of your friend, Master William,” Peggy said.

  “I sure wouldn’t think of you as old, Peggy,” Jonas said. “I’d say you’re not a day over twenty.”

  “Aye, handsome he be, Will, and a flatterer, too. Ye’ll be turnin’ a lady’s head with such sweet talk, Mister Jonas. I’ll have you know I’m all of twenty-three years old. I came to America from Ireland when I was a mere slip of a lass. I’ve been employed by the Kirkpatricks since I was fifteen.”

  “You certainly are a sight for trail-weary eyes, Peggy. You must call me Jonas. I insist.”

  Peggy blushed almost as red as her flaming hair.

  “Are ye certain ye don’t have any Irish in ye, Jonas, me lad? Ye sure have the gift of the gab, like ye’d kissed the Blarney Stone.”

  Jonas shook his head.

  “No, but after meetin’ you, I purely wish I did.”

  “Peggy, are you gonna let us in the house, or are you and Jonas just gonna stand here makin’ sweet talk all day long?” Will said.

  “Of course, of course. I don’t know why ye think I have to let ye in, Master William. This is your home. Your old room is still exactly like it was when ye rode away.”

  “You mean it was my home,” Will answered. “My father made it very plain it was no longer my home the day I left.”

  “Aye, that’s all water under the dam, I mean over the dam, under the bridge,” Peggy said. “He’ll be glad to see ye. Step inside, now.”

  “Peggy, who’s at the door?” a woman’s voice called from the parlor.

  “It’s Master William, come home for the wedding, Mrs. Kirkpatrick,” Peggy answered.

  “William? William’s here?”

  There was a rustle of skirts, then a woman who was an older, shorter, female version of Will rushed into the hallway and raced up to him.

  “William. You came home!” she exclaimed, as she threw herself into his arms to hug him. “I never thought I’d see you again. I’m so happy, and Susan will be thrilled. Let me look at you.”

  She took two steps back, and studied Will critically.

  “You look horrible,” she said, clapping her hands to her cheeks. “You’re thin as a rail. You’re filthy, you smell of horse and sweat. And that scraggly beard, and your hair. What’s this?” she asked, touching the bullet scar on his right cheek.

  “It’s from a bullet,” Will answered. “I had a bit of a close call down in Llano.”

  “Your father and I warned you that you’d be killed or crippled if you became a lawman. Well, you’re home now. I’m certainly glad you came to your senses and quit roaming about for the Rangers. Don’t you dare step anywhere else in this house until you’ve cleaned up. Head straight for the kitchen and tell Delia to draw you a nice, hot bath.”

  “Mother, I ain’t quit the Rangers,” Will said softly.

  “What do you mean, you haven’t quit the Rangers?” his mother said. “Please use proper English. You’ve had enough schooling to know how to speak properly.” For the first time, she seemed to notice Jonas. “And just who is this…this saddle tramp you brought home with you?”

  “Mother, don’t start right in by insulting my friend,” Will answered. “As I’ve just told you, I haven’t left the Rangers. I came home for Susan’s wedding, that’s all. As soon as that’s over, I’ll be riding back to Austin for new orders. My friend ain’t—isn’t—a saddle tramp at all. His name is Jonas Peterson, and he’s my riding pardner. The reason we’re both so…unkempt…is because we rode like heck all the way from Pecos to here, at Father’s summons. The Texas and Pacific tracks are washed out in several spots east of Pecos, so we had to make the trip by horseback. Jonas, my mother, Claudette Roubideaux Kirkpatrick.”

  “Please do forgive me, Mr. Peterson,” Claudette said
. “It’s just that William has been dragging all sorts of creatures in here ever since he was a little boy. One time, he even brought home a Negro child. Needless to say, we made certain that never happened again. Welcome to our home.”

  “There was no offense taken, Mrs. Kirkpatrick,” Jonas said, as he took her proffered hand. “I realize I must look like somethin’ the cat dragged in…or Will did.”

  Will rolled his eyes. His mother gave a slight laugh.

  “Thank you for understanding. William, kindly take your guest to the kitchen, and tell Delia she’ll need to draw two baths.”

  “That won’t be necessary, Mother. We’ll be going to Shalem’s shop first thing in the morning for haircuts, shaves, and baths. We would have stopped there first, but as you know, he’s closed on Thursdays. We need to tend to our horses, then we’ll go upstairs to my room. Peggy, if you wouldn’t mind, could you ask Delia to send some hot water, towels, and soap to my room, in about an hour. Pete and Rebel have been ridden hard for the past weeks, so I want to make certain they have a good feedin’ and curryin’ before me’n Jonas take care of ourselves.”

  “Of course, Master William.”

  “You really don’t intend to traipse through the house in those filthy clothes, do you?” Claudette asked. “And those muddy boots will ruin the rugs. You know those came all the way from Persia.”

  “Don’t worry, Mother. We’ll use the back stairs. We’ll also take off our boots before we come in. Unless you’d prefer we shed our clothes out on the porch.”

  “William!” Claudette shrieked. “How dare you talk like that when there are ladies present? I should have Delia wash out your mouth with soap.”

  “I think I’m a little too old for that, Mother. Before we take the horses around to the stable, is Susan home?”

  “No, she is not,” Claudette answered. “She’s at the dressmaker’s for the final fitting of her gown. It came from the finest shop in New Orleans, of course, but it was a bit too large, so Addie Hawthorne is taking it in. Everyone is so busy preparing for the wedding. Your Uncle Henri and Aunt Marguerite are here from Baton Rouge, your Uncle Martin and Aunt Louise came all the way from Memphis, and your Uncle Samuel and Aunt Martha are here from Kansas City. We wanted them to stay here at the house, of course; however, they said we had too much going on already with Susan’s wedding. They insisted on staying at the hotel, and taking their meals in town.”

  “How about Father? Or Gerard and Bertram?”

  “They’re still at the bank. They should be home around four o’clock, as usual. Oh, William, your father was sorely disappointed when you didn’t go into the banking business with him. He’ll be even more disappointed when he finds out you’ve come home, only to leave again.”

  “I doubt that,” Will said. “Besides, he’s got Gerard and Bertram to take over when he finally retires, not that I ever expect him to. Mother, I hate to be rude, but me’n Jonas…”

  “Jonas and I…” she corrected.

  “Jonas and I have come a long way, in a short time. We’re plumb worn out, and so are our horses. As long as it’s all right with you, we’ll care for Pete and Rebel, then clean up and take a nap. We’ll see you for dinner. It’s still at seven, isn’t it?”

  “It is, as always. Do you have anything suitable to wear?”

  “We’ve both got spare shirts and denims in our saddlebags,” Will answered. “Socks and underwear, too.”

  “You know we always dress up for the evening meal, William.”

  “We’ve got clean neckerchiefs, too.”

  “You can’t possibly think Father and I would allow you to come to the dinner table dressed in cowboy rags,” Claudette answered. “All your clothes are still in your room. Choose from them, for both yourself and your friend. They’ll be too large for him, but they’ll have to do.”

  “Mother, the day I left this house, I swore I’d never wear boiled shirts, stiff collars, and ties that half-choked me to death ever again. Jonas and I will wash up, and our spare clothes are clean enough so we’ll be presentable. Unless you’d rather we rode into town and had dinner at the café.”

  “Of course not,” Claudette said. “Don’t be ridiculous. However, I can’t speak for your father.”

  “You let me handle Father,” Will answered. “Now, we’re gonna take care of our horses. They’ve stood out there in the hot sun long enough. We’ll see you at dinner. C’mon, Jonas.”

  “Nice meeting you, Mrs. Kirkpatrick,” Jonas said, before he followed Will back outside. Peggy closed the door behind him.

  “Now you see why I left and joined the Rangers,” Will said.

  “Your mother’s a bit rough, but I dunno if I’d have given up all this just because of her,” Jonas answered.

  “Oh, it’s not just my mother,” Will explained. “We usually get along pretty well—or, at least, tolerate each other. Wait until you meet my father.”

  Pete whickered at Will’s approach.

  “I know, boy, and I’m sorry,” Will said. He patted the paint’s shoulder, and stroked his muzzle. “You’re gonna get rubbed down and fed, right now.”

  ****

  “The first six stalls on either side are for my father’s, brothers’, and sister’s horses, then the two large bays are for father’s carriages. I don’t see any of them here, so that means my brothers must have gone into the bank on their own today. We’ll put Pete and Rebel in the two stalls at the other end of the barn,” Will said.

  “This is where your family’s horses live?” Jonas asked, as he looked around the stable, with its wide aisles, large stalls, and polished walls. “It’s better’n any place I ever called home.”

  “Yeah, it’s a bit fancy for a stable,” Will conceded.

  “Who takes care of it? It’s the cleanest barn I’ve ever seen.”

  “My father has a stableman and driver, Jose Calderon. He lives in that small house out back of the barn. He’s not here, because he’ll have driven my father into town. This must be one of the days when Father’s got other errands for Jose,” Will explained. “Let’s get our horses settled, so we can clean up ourselves and get some rest before dinner. The tack and feed rooms are the ones alongside the carriage bays.”

  “Pete doesn’t have his own stall?” Jonas asked.

  “No. I bought Pete just before I left and joined the Rangers,” Will answered. “My father took one look at him and refused to let him even come on the property. He called him a spotted bastard, that wasn’t even fit for dog food, let alone a saddle horse. He won’t own anything but the finest blooded Kentucky stock. He doesn’t care how smart a horse is, just how pretty.”

  “He won’t make us take Pete and Rebel out of the barn once he gets home?”

  “I dunno,” Will admitted. “If he does, we’ll just take ’em down to Buck’s Livery Stable. Buck’s a decent hombre, and he owns his place, not my father. I’d’ve left ’em with Buck already, but I’m too tired to walk from the other end of town up to this house.”

  It took Will and Jonas the better part of an hour to feed, water, and groom their horses. Once they were finished, they went back to the house, entering through the back door, and using the back stairs to reach Will’s bedroom on the second floor.

  8

  “Boy howdy, I ain’t never slept in a room like this,” Jonas said, as he sat on the edge of Will’s full-sized bed, and looked around the large, high-ceilinged room, with its palladium windows and sumptuous furnishings. “Never slept on a mattress this soft, neither.”

  “I wouldn’t get used to it,” Will answered, as he draped his saddlebags and gunbelt over the back of a ladder back chair alongside a walnut desk. “We won’t be here all that long.”

  “Mebbe so, but I’ll take advantage of the accommodations while we are,” Jonas said. He started to lie back on the bed, then, remembering his sweaty, filthy clothes, thought better of it. He stood up, took off his gunbelt and hung it alongside Will’s. He settled deeply into a brown leather chair. He pulled off
his boots, stretched out his legs, and pulled his hat down over his eyes.

  “Leave me be until supper, Will,” he said.

  “It’s dinner in this house,” Will said. “Someone’s gonna have to wake us both up.” He sat in the leather chair next to Jonas, and, like him, pulled off his boots, stretched out, and tugged his Stetson over his eyes. Both men were instantly asleep. A few minutes later, there was a soft knock at the bedroom door.

  “Master William?” When there was no answer, the knock came again, harder, and the voice called a bit louder. “Master William?”

  Will stirred. He mumbled sleepily.

  “Who is it?”

  “It’s Delia. I’ve brought the things for you and your friend’s baths.”

  “All right. C’mon in, Delia.” Will reached over and shook Jonas’s shoulder. “Wake up, pardner. Time to clean up.”

  The door opened, and Delia, the cook and other maid, came in. She was a black woman, of average height, slightly on the stout side but certainly not plump. Her black hair was cut short. She wore a maid’s uniform identical to Peggy’s, but with a longer skirt, and over the uniform a long, white cook’s apron. She carried two pitchers of steaming hot water by their handles with her left hand, and a stack of towels and washcloths, as well as an extra basin, in her right.

  “Master William, it’s so good to see you home,” she said, in a soft southern Louisiana accent. “This house is a lot less cheery without you about.”

  “I’ve missed you too, Delia,” William said. He kissed her on the cheek. “I’d like you to meet my new riding pardner, Jonas Peterson. He’s just joined the Rangers.”

  “It’s a pleasure,” Jonas said, nodding his head to her.

  “It’s always nice to meet a friend of Master William’s,” Delia said.

  “Well, we didn’t quite start out as friends, but that’s changed,” Jonas answered.

  Delia gave Jonas a knowing look, but said nothing. She set the towels and pitchers on the washstand, then took two bars of Pears’ soap from her apron pocket and placed them next to the towels.