Day blended into night. Leta stirred and reached for Ricky. His chest still rose and fell, but his eyes remained stubbornly closed. The murmur of deep voices reached her, and memory returned. Buck came back. Andy didn’t find the doctor. Her heart offered a wordless prayer to God.
There was a woman. Buck’s sister. Leta struggled to rise.
“I’ve got everything under control. Go on back to sleep.”
At the quiet reassurance, Leta sunk back against the pillow and fell asleep. She didn’t wake again until the predawn hours. Her eyes slowly adjusted to the dark, and she could see Buck’s silhouette on the chair at the end of the bed. His hands were folded, and she heard soft sounds, quiet whispers she couldn’t understand. He was keeping watch over them in prayer. Her heart warmed to the thought. Ricky’s chest continued to rise and fall. He looked as though he had fallen asleep the night before, ready to wake up in time for breakfast. He looked so small, so vulnerable in the big bed. She touched his blond curls with her hand, something he ducked away from when awake.
Ricky stirred, squirming away from the light touch of her hand. She inhaled and breathed his name. “Ricky.”
He opened his eyes, black in the darkness. “My head hurts.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Quiet can hardly be restored until some steps are taken to bring the perpetrators of the late murders … to justice and this cannot be done in this county by any jury grand or petit summoned from the vicinity.
Correspondence between
John Holmes and Governor Coke
September 8, 1875
I’m sure your head does hurt. You got a bad bump.”
Leta cried tears of joy. Ricky lifted up on his elbows. “Ranger Buck, when did you get back?”
“Last night.” The smile on Buck’s face mirrored Leta’s joy.
Yawning, Ricky’s eyes drifted closed. “I wanna go back to sleep.”
“That’s not a good idea.” Leta panicked. She feared if he closed his eyes again, he wouldn’t wake up a second time.
Buck looked at her and nodded in understanding.
“Before you fall asleep, I want to hear about everything that’s happened around here.” Buck kept his voice calm. “Did it rain a bunch?”
Ricky nodded. “I had to stay inside forever.”
Leta relaxed a fraction. Buck would keep her son awake. “I’ll go fix us breakfast.”
In the main room, Andy was snoring in the rocking chair, a quilt wrapped around him. He’d had a rough day and night. She was proud of him, for everything he had done during the long difficult day, for his good sense in letting Stella have the only other bed in the house.
Buck hadn’t slept at all, as far as she knew.
Thank You, God, that Ricky is okay. Her heart lighter than it had been for weeks, Leta went to the henhouse to collect eggs: an even dozen, plenty for a feast. Cutting twelve slices of bread, she used a glass to make circles in each of them. Butter from yesterday’s churning sizzled in the fry pan. She dropped the bread in the butter and started cooking her son’s favorite breakfast.
A scuffling sound alerted Leta to someone’s approach. Maybe Ricky had gone ahead and gotten out of bed. When she turned around, smiling widely, she encountered Buck’s sister.
“Mmm, sunshine eggs. Do you mind if I fry up the holes?” Without waiting for an answer, Stella found a knife and slathered the round slabs with butter. “What’s the news on your boy?”
Leta’s wide smile returned. “He woke up.” She nodded in the direction of the curtain. “Buck is talking with him to keep him awake.”
“God is good.” Stella located the flat griddle on the shelf and placed it over an open flame. “So this is a celebration breakfast.” While the griddle heated, she poked through the jars on the shelf. They worked side by side, the other woman fitting in with ease around the small space.
“Where’d you get this?” Stella peered at a calendar tacked to the wall near the stove.
“The general store gave them away last Christmas.” Leta liked the painting of a cardinal sitting on the branches of a sumac tree; she might keep it next year, at least the picture.
“Today’s date is circled. Is it somebody’s birthday?”
“Today?” Leta dropped the last egg in the skillet. “Today is Thursday … is it the ninth?”
Stella nodded, and Leta froze. “The court is holding session today. They’re bringing in the men who stole my cattle. I have to be there.” Butter spit from the skillet and landed on her hand. She brought it to her mouth and sucked the hot spot.
“I’ll finish up here. You go get ready.”
Bless this young woman. She seemed to be as steady as her brother—as dependable as Andy was unpredictable. “Thanks.” She had to get ready quickly; after sleeping in her clothes all night, she had to change. She tiptoed behind her curtain. Pouring water from the ewer into a basin, she began the process of preparing for the day.
A few minutes later, Stella poked her head around the curtain where Buck sat with Ricky. “Good morning, Ricky! Your mother told me you were awake and ready for some eggs in a hole.”
“Who’s that?”
“She’s my sister.” Buck swept the boy up in his arms. “I can walk!” Ricky squirmed, and Buck set him down. “Where is Leta?” Andy asked, waking up with a yawn.
“Right here.” Leta came in, wearing a pretty blue dress with red flowers printed on it. She made a beeline for Ricky and hugged him. With his face between her hands, she kissed his forehead. “I love you.”
“Ma.” Ricky’s voice held the embarrassment of all boys everywhere.
“You’re awake!” Andy didn’t repeat his sister’s embrace, but he clapped Ricky on his shoulder. “You had me scared.”
“Can I ride Shadow today?” Ricky asked.
The four adults looked at each other. Stella could tell Buck wanted to laugh. He probably would have asked the same thing at Ricky’s age. “Let make sure the colt wasn’t hurt yesterday.” He looked at Leta and winked. “I understand you have court today.”
Leta frowned. “I don’t want to rustlers get away with it.” She laughed, a hollow sound as brittle as a dried leaf. “Not that it will make any difference. I don’t know if the judge is afraid a guilty verdict will stir up more violence or what, but prisoners from both sides of the feud get little more than a small fine. If that.” A haunted look darted into her eyes.
“I’m coming with you.”
Stella sat down, watching the exchange between the two of them. Buck seemed to have met his match in the widow.
Leta blinked and shook her head. “That’s not necessary. You must need to get back to the Ranger camp. You don’t have to hold my hand.” Her shoulders sagged and she grabbed the edge of the table as she sat down.
Stella sent a worried look in Buck’s direction. In spite of Leta’s protests, she needed protection today.
“The Rangers are here to reestablish peace,” said Buck. “Showing up at these trials is part of the job.” He took a seat next to Ricky, opposite Leta at the table. “Now how about some of these eggs?”
Leta had a hard time convincing anyone to stay home. Andy had wanted to come, and of course, Ricky thought he should tag along.
“Andy, you have to stay home,” Leta said. “If the doctor comes out, I want you to tell him just what happened yesterday.”
“And I can tell him what I observed after I arrived. Between us, he’ll have a full report.” Stella smiled at Andy. “And I might need your help to keep Ricky corralled.”
Leta doubted that, but Andy reluctantly agreed to stay behind. She should feel glad Stella offered to stay with Ricky for the day. Glad to have Buck’s support. With the Ranger’s presence, the likelihood for violence went down.
Knowing how she should feel didn’t change a thing. Her insides boiled hotter than bacon grease. Buck walked back into her life as if he had never left, but she couldn’t afford to depend on him again. Not for her safety or her happiness or—anything
. Her and God—that was all she wanted or needed. All she ever had.
Horses and wagons lined the street near the courthouse by the time they arrived. Many of the people milling around were locals, but among them she saw gentlemen dressed in suits and holding notepads in their hands. “Reporters.” She glanced at Buck. “What if they connect my case with Derrick’s murder?”
Silent thunder filled Buck’s face. He took her elbow. “I’ll escort you inside.” Without waiting for her permission, he propelled her forward. “Coming through.”
The crowd parted, but she heard whispers. One man, dressed in a gray wool suit, out of place on this late summer day, blocked their path. “Mrs. Denning, what do you think will happen today?”
Leta ducked her head, wishing she had worn her sunbonnet to hide her face. Buck pressed past the reporters who jumped in with more questions. He opened the door and she scooted inside, drawing her first real breath since they had dismounted. How she would have handled the gamut without his quiet presence, she shuddered to think. But she couldn’t depend on him. Reason fought with feeling.
“Where do you want to sit?”
Leta looked around. A lot of people had already found seats, women as well as men. She spotted a couple of women from her church and pointed, relieved to see familiar faces.
He escorted her to the seat, but didn’t join her. “I’ll be by the back door.”
“Thanks.” When the judge called the court to order, she glanced back at him. No one could get past him to harm her, and she relaxed.
The day dragged on. A couple of cases were heard before hers—one bound over for trial, one dismissal of charges. Her stomach churned at the thought of testifying at trial, with everyone watching.
Once again she glanced back at Buck and allowed his solid presence to give her courage. He might not smile—he seldom did—but she felt better knowing he was there.
After the noon recess, the judge called for her case. Steve Sampson joined Buck at the back of the courtroom. She kept her face turned forward, waiting for the defendant to appear.
The clerk repeated the call. The defendant—Barnabas Benton—didn’t come in. The judge frowned. “Sheriff Clark, where is the defendant?”
Clark squirmed under the judge’s glare. “He knew the hearing was today, your honor.”
“Hmph. I’ll issue a bench warrant, then. This time, keep him in jail until the next session.”
Leta shrank back. The prison in the past year had proven as full of holes as a fishing net. They could be anywhere in Mason County or even beyond, with a thousand places to hide.
Buck made his way to her side as soon as the gavel came down. “I’m taking you home. Steve will stay for the rest of the afternoon.”
The same reporter jumped in their path when she left. “You will leave the lady be.” Buck shouldered past him.
She couldn’t have put two words together. Frustration tied her tongue in knots. Anything she tried to say now would come out backward. Sheriff Clark tipped his hat to her as she walked out of the courthouse. She wanted to spit in his face. If he didn’t keep those thieves in jail, they’d never pay for stealing her cattle.
A cadre of Rangers waited across from the courthouse, presumably to keep the peace. Their heads swung in their direction when they came out the door, and one of the men nudged his mount forward. “Morgan, I thought you were gone down south.”
A shrug rippled down Buck’s arms where he held her elbow. “I got back early.”
The Ranger—tall and lanky, like Buck, but with dark curly hair and a beard that refused to submit to a razor—dismounted. Buck introduced her to his friend Jim Austin.
“We were right sorry to hear about your husband’s murder, Mrs. Denning. We’re going to bring a stop to this violence.”
Leta nodded. “I hope so.” Her voice didn’t carry much conviction, but she didn’t care.
Shuffling his feet, Austin shrugged before he led Morgan aside. They stood about three yards away and spoke in low voices. When Buck returned, he was frowning. “I have to get back to the Ranger camp. Can Stella stay with you for a few days?”
The nerve of the man. But Leta couldn’t refuse. “Of course. But—how long?”
“I will come back as soon as I can.” Blue eyes focused on her. “I promise.” He nodded at his friend. “Jim will escort you home.”
Leta straightened her back. “That’s not necessary. I know the way out of town.”
Buck looked at his friend, who nodded. She wouldn’t be given a choice.
“I’m sorry, Leta.” Buck tipped his hat and headed out.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
SAN ANTONIO DAILY HERALD
May 20, 1875
We learn from Maj. Jas. Trainer that the Indians are very bad in his section of the country. They killed a woman on Mill Creek 12 miles from Mason.
Leta was trying to figure out how to keep Jim Austin from following her home when she spotted Dr. Tardiff.
The doctor had managed to withstand the pressure of the war raging in the county, treating any patient brought to him with equal care. Leta respected what little she knew of him.
“Mrs. Denning, I was just heading out your way. How is your son?”
Leta smiled at the memory. “He woke up this morning. I had to come to court today, but a—friend is staying with him to make sure he doesn’t overdo.” She supposed she could call Stella a friend.
“Good, good.” The doctor smiled. “Are you done with court, then? I can come with you now.” He helped Leta onto her horse. She turned around to face Buck’s Ranger friend. “As you can see, I no longer need your assistance.”
A hint of exasperation crossed the Ranger’s face. Buck wouldn’t be pleased, but she felt better back on her own. It was much better to do things that way.
By the time they arrived at the ranch, Leta had filled the doctor in on the court case and Rick’s accident. “The important thing is that you have your cattle back. It sounds like you did everything that could be done for Ricky, but I’ll check him over.”
The yard looked impeccable; Andy had done a thorough job. Stella sat on a rocking chair on the porch, holding Leta’s Bible in her lap. Ricky was curled up her feet.
When she saw the man with Leta, she stood. “I promise, this is the first time he’s fallen asleep today. I figured an afternoon nap wouldn’t hurt. I was going to wake him up in a few minutes.”
Dr. Tardiff brushed her words aside and bent over Ricky, gently shaking his shoulder. Ricky sat up and rubbed his eyes.
“Doc?”
“I hear you had a nasty fall yesterday.” When the doctor announced Ricky was unlikely to suffer any lasting ill effects from the fall, Leta took her first deep breath in twenty-four hours.
Buck rode into Ranger camp and headed straight for Roberts’s tent after he put Blaze with the other horses. Overhead the sun chased clouds across the sky, as pretty a fall day as he had seen in a while. Only the ground underfoot, still a little soft, reminded him that the storm had also struck this far north. He wondered what Captain Roberts wanted with him.
Roberts sat at the campfire with his senior officers. First one raised his voice, then another. Buck made sure Roberts could see him before he joined the circle.
“Morgan, you’re back. It’s about time.” Roberts frowned.
“How’s your family doing?” This came from Major Jones, whom Buck hadn’t identified since his back was turned.
“It could be worse. They’ll rebuild.” Buck didn’t intend to detail all the setbacks they had faced.
Jones shot him an amused look and grunted. He valued Buck’s taciturn nature. “Come and join us. We’re discussing how to use our resources.”
Buck perched on an outcropping of granite. “Indian trouble?”
“Down Mill Creek way.” Roberts tapped his knee with the butt of his rifle. “The Indians and Mexicans do a lot of the cattle rustling that gets blamed on townsfolk.”
“We’ve promised to help them out he
re. Law-abiding folks in Texas want to know they can live in peace and quiet,” Jones said. “They also want to be free of Indian threats.”
Jones stood to his feet. “This is what we’ll do. The main part of Company D will go on the Indian scout. Morgan here is already assigned to my company. Choose two men to stay with him—one of them your fastest rider. He can go after the troops if things heat up here again.”
Roberts nodded. “I assume you’d like Austin and Sampson?”
Buck agreed. Once the meeting broke up, Jones pulled him aside. “I suppose you haven’t made any progress in your investigation since you were away.”
Buck gave a fleeting thought to the information he hadn’t shared with Jones earlier—the names on Leta’s list—but he did have something else to share. “Mrs. Denning has recovered her cattle, sir. The thieves—the Jordans—brought them into town, and she discovered them in a holding pen. That’s where I was today, at their trial.”
Jones arched his eyebrows, and Buck shook his head. “They didn’t even bother to show up. I’m glad you’re asking me to stay. That kind of behavior could trigger more violence.”
“Same suspects as before, then.” Jones considered. “Your first job while the company is gone is to keep the peace, but if you have a chance to round up any of the suspects, do it.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I hope you don’t mind sharing my bed.” Leta fluffed the pillows at the head of the bed. Derrick had insisted on soft goose down, so she could get a good night’s sleep. The memory brought a smile to her face.
“Of course not.” Stella pulled a brush through her long, light-brown hair.
Ricky was already sound asleep. When Leta tucked him into bed, all he could do was mumble, “Where’s Ranger Buck?” before he flopped against the pillow.
Stella shared Buck’s coloring and the faraway look Leta saw in his eyes sometimes. For the baby of the family, she handled the responsibilities of running a household well. “I just appreciate you taking me in. Men.” Stella shook her head. “Buck must think everyone is like our ma, willing to take in any strays that wander by.”
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