Ranger's Trail

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Ranger's Trail Page 11

by Darlene Franklin


  “I’m happy to oblige, but I don’t have much space. We were planning on adding another room last year, before …” For the baby. After she miscarried, she no longer cared.

  “Buck told me a little about it. You must be very brave, staying here with things so rough in town. Sometimes I feel like all the adventures have passed me by. Things are so quiet in Victoria these days.”

  Leta’s eyes opened wide. “After a hurricane?”

  “Oh, it’s so settled. You know what I mean.”

  Yes, Leta did. What Leta would give for a nice ranch near a settled town, instead of this … wild frontier town. Yet this young girl, so mature in some ways, so youthful in others, craved excitement. “You’ll get your fill of excitement while you’re here.” She hoped the awakening wouldn’t hit Stella too hard. Just a hint of a scare would do—enough to shock Stella into appreciating a quiet life. That would be ideal.

  “I hope you don’t mind … I read my Bible before I fall asleep.”

  “Of course not. ‘Morning and evening I will call to thee.’” Stella yawned. “As long as you don’t mind if I fall asleep.” She turned her back to Leta’s side of the bed and curled up like a child.

  A slim volume—that had only the New Testament and Psalms and Proverbs—lay on the nightstand. She turned to the fifth chapter of Matthew, Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount. It helped when Jesus said, “Blessed are ye, when men shall revile you, and persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil against you falsely, for my sake. Rejoice, and be exceeding glad: for great is your reward in heaven.” That’s what happened to Derrick; he went straight from earth to his heavenly reward. She looked forward to joining him some day, but she prayed it wouldn’t happen any time soon.

  She continued reading Jesus’ instructions on how men should handle conflict. Things in the here and now fell short of God’s design. Then she reached verses she had read before, ones she knew, but had conveniently shoved into a corner of her mind. “But I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you.” Fierce anger against the men who had killed her husband and stolen her cattle swept over her. She could identify with the psalms where David called down God’s wrath. Jesus’ instructions to “turn the other cheek” and show love for her enemies went against everything in her. She stopped reading, but the words echoed in her brain.

  She pulled out her prayer list, a slim sheet of paper tucked into the front of the Bible. She had listed people she prayed for regularly. Ricky and Andy headed the list, of course. President Grant, Governor Coke, her pastor, a favorite teacher she remembered from school. Another person making a regular appearance in her prayers recently was Buck—his safety. Thanking God for all he was doing to help her. Asking God to protect her heart against the feelings springing up after the drought that followed Derrick’s death.

  But here God was telling her to add other names to the list. Sheriff Clark and his no-account deputies. Hinke, the Jordans, Fletcher—all the men she was certain had acted against her. Stealing life and livelihood.

  God, no! Her stomach knocked against her heart.

  “Hereby we do know that we know him, if we keep his commandments.”

  No, no, no. Everything in Leta rebelled against what God expected of her. Make me willing. I can’t do it on my own.

  She closed the Bible and turned off the lantern. Stella slept peacefully by her side. Leta’s heart listed all the wrongs done against her, while her mind quoted God’s words to her. Restless, she pulled back the curtain and looked at Ricky. Please God, give me courage to do the right thing.

  Outside something clattered against the fence, and she tensed. Just the wind, she told herself. Again, she heard the unmistakable neighing of a horse. Keeping in the shadows, she got up and crept down the wall and knelt below the window. A quick glance showed a strange horse in the yard.

  Oh, God, what do I do? She grabbed the rifle from over the fireplace and slipped extra ammunition into the pockets of her robe. She waited by the door, holding as still as possible. She wouldn’t confront them. She wouldn’t put everyone in the house at risk. But she would shoot if attacked directly.

  She waited for what seemed like an eternity. Through the window, she watched the moon rise high in the black sky. Only a quiet scuffling suggested any movement. At last she risked a glance through the kitchen window. The horse had disappeared. She would wait until morning light to investigate further.

  Keeping the rifle in her hands, she retreated to the chair by Ricky’s bed. Prayer came easily now, single words thrown up to heaven. Protect us. Save us.

  Blackness turned to dark gray, and the rooster crowed in the yard. Leta shook the stiffness from her limbs. She went into the main room and splashed water from the bucket on her face. Now was the time to check for mischief, while the remainder of household still slept. After checking her rifle, she opened her door a crack. When no one moved, she pushed it open all the way.

  A hangman’s noose dangled from the nail where visitors tethered their horses.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  The rangers not on guard spent their time as they wished when not on duty, but no man could leave the camp without the captain’s permission. The boys played such games as appealed to them, horseshoe pitching and cards being their favorite diversions.

  James B. Gillett, Six Years with

  the Texas Rangers: 1875 to 1881

  I’m glad to help you, Buck, but I’ve got an itch to see some action. I’m tired of sitting around. You won’t even play a friendly game of poker.” Buck smiled at Jim. “Just want to be sure you don’t gamble away all your money.” Steve was cleaning his rifle. “Don’t we have murderers to hunt down?”

  Buck didn’t answer right away. After he delivered Stella to his uncle’s house, he wanted to have a talk with his cousin. He’d rather not have company for that conversation.

  “Captain Roberts told us to stick together. I’ll be keeping an eagle eye on you, so don’t think about running out on us.” Jim shook the pack of well-worn cards at Buck before spreading them out in a game of solitaire.

  “He’s just in love.” Steve held his rifle to his shoulder, checking the sight.

  Buck’s head snapped up. Words of denial died on his tongue. Anything he said could be twisted; he’d best say nothing at all.

  “Maybe so.” Jim turned over a card. “He was right concerned about Mrs. Denning yesterday.”

  “Her husband was one of the first victims of the mob and now they’ve stolen her cattle. She’s part of the job, that’s all.”

  “Uh huh. That doesn’t explain why you hightail it over there every time you get a chance.” Steve shook his head. “You have it bad, you just don’t know it yet.”

  “So you do have some names,” Jim said.

  Buck tensed. Jim knew, or had guessed, something.

  “They must have read out the names of the cattle rustlers at court.”

  Of course. He relaxed. “Just one. Barnabas Benton.”

  “Does your uncle know where to find him?” Both men focused their attention on Buck, their gazes sharp enough to slice his secrets with an invisible sword.

  “If he does, he’s not going to tell a Ranger, even if I am his nephew. He’s not sitting at his ranch waiting for us to show up and arrest him, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  Jim lit a cheroot and leaned back. “It should be easier for you to get that information than the rest of us yahoos.” Buck stared at him, daring him to spell out what he meant. Jim shrugged. “Stands to reason. Your family’s German. They’re bound to hear things. I’m not saying they’re involved.”

  “All the more reason why I have to go alone. If they know anything, they won’t talk with Anglos around.”

  Steve frowned. “We can’t let you do that.” He hooked his thumbs over his belt.

  “Buck has a point.” Jim gave up on the game and gathered the cards into a deck. “You go in alone, but we’ll be close
by, in case you run into trouble.”

  They made plans to leave after breakfast. “I, uh, have to go by Mrs. Denning’s ranch first.” Heat raced to Buck’s cheeks. “I brought my sister back with me, to stay with our aunt and uncle. We stopped by the Denning ranch first, and since I rushed back to camp after court, she’s still there.”

  “You brought her here?”

  “She insisted on coming.” Buck shrugged. “You don’t know my sister.”

  “Takes after her big brother, does she?” Steve grinned.

  Nothing more was said as they packed to leave. Depending on how things went at the two ranches, they might not make it back to camp before nightfall. “You might as well come with me and meet Mrs. Denning.”

  Jim sent him a sideways glance, and Steve grinned.

  Buck expected Andy to be away from Leta’s cabin, but he walked out of the barn as Buck rode in. “Buck. I didn’t know when you’d be back.” The boy looked almost glad to see him. “Something’s got Leta upset this morning, but she won’t say what’s wrong.”

  “Court yesterday was a disappointment.”

  “It’s not that. She was angry when she got home, but this morning was different.” He shrugged. “I don’t know. She might talk to you. She thinks I’m a kid.”

  Buck suppressed a smile. Had he seemed so impossibly young to his parents when he was that age? Probably.

  Stella heard the commotion outdoors and ran outside. “Buck, you’re back so soon!” She hugged him and took a step back. “And here I thought you’d let me keep up my adventure for a few more days.” She whirled in a circle and looked at the other two men on horseback. “And who are these handsome fellows?”

  One of them, with sun-streaked hair and looking good in a blue chambray shirt, tipped his hat. “Ranger Steve Sampson. I understand you’re this monkey’s sister.”

  “You just called her a monkey,” said the other one, tall and dark. “Jim Austin, ma’am. I’ve known Buck these past five years. He’s a fine man.” He bent over and shook her hand. “But he never told me he had such a lovely sister.”

  Stella smiled. “Maybe because I was still in pigtails when he left home. Give me a minute to get Leta. She’s been resting this morning.” She hesitated. “She had a rough night, and I promised to look after things while she slept. I tell you, Buck, I truly wish I could just stay here a few more days. She needs the company of another woman.”

  A bleary-eyed Leta came out of the door, a shawl stretched across her shoulders, brown hair tumbling down her back, hand shielding her eyes from the sun. “Buck! You’re back.” She flew down the porch steps and across the yard, but stopped about a yard short.

  Stella looked from one to the other. Leta was biting her lip to keep from blurting something in front of strangers. “Give me a minute to get dressed.” She disappeared inside.

  Buck nosed Blaze toward the barn and tied him to the railing of the corral. He entered the barn and came out a moment later with a handsome black colt.

  Drawn by the irresistible lure of a horse, Stella joined him at the corral. “Is this the fella that threw Ricky?”

  “Yup, this is Shadow.” The colt nuzzled Buck’s pocket, whinnying softly. “Did you miss me? I don’t have anything for you.” Buck whispered to him, easing the blanket onto his back. Shadow didn’t even twitch, and Buck added the saddle. The colt quivered but Buck stayed with him, continuing to whisper in his ear.

  Stella watched her brother work with Shadow with pleasure. After Pa, he was the best horseman in the Morgan family, but he had chosen to use his talents in other ways.

  Leta stalked across the yard. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Ranger Buck, you’re back! Can I ride Shadow today?” Ricky raced across the yard and climbed on the fence next to Stella.

  At the shout, the colt backed up a step.

  “Not yet. I’ll give him a test ride. Then if it’s all right with your mother …” Buck looked over Stella’s shoulder.

  Stella glanced back and watched Leta crossing the yard. She joined Stella at the rail, gripping so hard that splinters must be digging into her hands. “Once. He can ride around the corral one time. The doctor said he should avoid strenuous activity for a few days.”

  A smile crept from Buck’s eyes to his cheeks and mouth. Stella’s friends said his smile made them swoon, but Leta looked too scared to faint.

  “This I gotta see.” Steve leaned against the rail on Stella’s other side. Andy propped himself against the other side of the corral.

  Buck swung up on Shadow’s back. The colt took one step and stopped. Motionless in the saddle, Buck said something only the animal could hear. A long minute passed—two—neither horse nor rider moved. Buck took the reins in his right hand and made a clicking noise. Shadow moved forward one step, then two.

  For the next half hour, Buck put on a show. After a circuit of the corral, he changed direction and walked the colt counterclockwise. With each circuit Buck tightened the loop, increasing the pressure on the colt to follow his lead. Satisfied at last, he rode to the spot where Ricky perched on the rails.

  “Let’s do it, then. Stay quiet, though. Shouting scares the colt.” Buck dismounted and lifted Ricky onto the saddle. The boy looked so small on Shadow’s back. Beside Stella, Leta sucked in her breath.

  “Looking good.” Steve nodded his head. “You ride like you were born in the saddle.”

  Andy gave a quiet cheer.

  “Tell him to move. Dig your heels in his side.” Buck walked by Shadow’s side.

  Ricky did as instructed and the colt plodded forward. His grin stretched as wide as Texas, and Leta relaxed. With Buck sticking close, the boy completed the circuit of the corral. With every step, every bounce in the saddle, Leta fidgeted.

  They completed the circuit within minutes. “Now get down,” Leta said.

  “Aw, Ma.”

  The expression on Ricky’s face brought a laugh to Stella’s throat, but she held it back. It took courage for Leta to allow her son to risk life and limb so soon after knocking himself out. She had seen the same expression on her own mother’s face each time she did something foolish. Like the time she raced after a rabbit in the middle of a prairie dog town. She shook her head. Only God’s grace kept her from twisting an ankle that day.

  Buck lifted the boy down and grabbed the colt’s reins before he unlatched the gate and gently pushed Ricky through. “You did good.” He looked at Leta. “You won’t have any more problems with the colt.” Then he bent over the fence and stuck his finger in Ricky’s face. “But you, young man, if I hear any more about you riding the horse without your mother’s permission, I’ll come and take this horse for myself. The Rangers can always use another good horse.” Buck’s facial muscles twitched, as if they wanted to smile, but he kept his face straight.

  “Yes, sir. I mean, no, sir. I won’t ride the horse when Ma tells me not too.”

  “Good.” Now he released those muscles in a Rio Grande–sized grin. “You did good. I bet you worked up an appetite.”

  “How about some bread and honey?” Leta said.

  Beside Stella, Steve stirred. Buck said, “We need to be on our way. Stella, we’ve imposed on Mrs. Denning’s hospitality long enough. Are you ready to go?”

  Stella’s face lost her smile. She knew she should look forward to visiting Onkel Georg’s family, but none of the girls were close to her in age She had enjoyed her time with Leta. Here she had adventure; at her uncle’s ranch, she’d be a pampered guest, probably not allowed to help with the simplest chores.

  Stella looked to Leta for support, but she was frowning. “I need to talk to you, Mr. Morgan. Alone.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Clark contacted the governor to request a reward on Cooley for Wohrle’s murder. Coke obliged, offering a $300 reward on September 6, 1875.

  Executive Record Book:

  Richard M. Coke, Governor’s Papers

  Leta released her breath when Buck nodded. “I’ll
get Ricky his bread and honey,” Stella said, That girl knew what needed to be done before anyone asked.

  Andy started to follow them, and Leta spun around. “This is a private conversation, Andy.”

  Her brother glared at her. “I need to talk to him too.” Leta trembled. She wondered if Andy knew what had happened last night. No, she decided. He would’ve told her. “Another time.” She took Shadow’s reins and entered the barn.

  Buck joined her at the colt’s stall and lifted off the saddle. “What’s on your mind?”

  “Last night.” Leta’s mouth went dry. “Someone came to the house. I didn’t see who it was.”

  His face took on a hooded, concentrated expression, a world away from the way he looked when he smiled. “What happened?”

  “I found this on the door this morning.” The noose burned her fingers where she held it.

  In a few savage motions Buck took care of Shadow’s tack. “Tell me everything.”

  He made her relive every minute, every second, of the long night. She could practically smell the fear she had felt. She heard the clip clop of a single horse’s hooves. The absence of any sounds from the farm animals. “They didn’t harm anything. Maybe they didn’t mean mischief.”

  “Aside from scaring you to death?”

  A breathy chuckle escaped Leta. He didn’t downplay her fear. “It’s a warning, but about what? Don’t try to get justice?” She thought of the missing defendants from yesterday’s court case, and shivered.

  Buck stroked his chin. “I saw the cattle in the pen on the way in. That’s a good idea.”

  “Until they eat up all the grass.” She drew in her breath. She’d worry about feeding them later. “It’s close to time to send them to market. I won’t breathe easy until I send them off.” And until she saw how much money they fetched. On which side of the razor’s edge between survival and loss, prosperity and poverty, would the sale fall? She shook herself. If she didn’t close her mouth, she’d blab every one of her problems to this man, something she had vowed she would never do.

 

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