Sweet Cherry Ray

by McClure, Marcia Lynn

  Once they were gathered behind the general store, Billy said, “Yer pa sounds awful determined, Cherry.”

  “I know it,” she said.

  “But don’t you worry,” he said. “Arthur Ray is the best Texas Ranger that ever lived. Jack knows it too. It won’t come to nothin’.”

  All at once, Cherry felt the need to burst into tears, to sob long and hard. Every inch of her body longed for Lobo then—to be held safe and protected in his arms. She thought then of Sheriff Gibbs’s telling her pa folks were uneasy about Lobo’s presence in town. Not that she didn’t already know it; the gossip and whispering and speculation had been going on since the moment he’d ridden into Blue Water. Furthermore, it had only gotten worse over the past several weeks. Living with Black Jack Haley in their midst had frightened people into suspecting anyone new of evil doings. And Cherry still didn’t know why Lobo was in Blue Water. He seemed to be waiting for something—or someone. What was he waiting for? Was he waiting for Jack to return? Would he join up with Black Jack and his boys? Certainly he’d played cards with Fuss the day Fuss and Pinky had seen Cherry and Lobo outside the saloon. Cherry hadn’t talked to him since—though she’d seen him riding through town on several occasions and therefore knew he was unharmed. She guessed he and Fuss Ingram must have had a friendly game of cards in the end.

  Oh, how she wished he’d ride up at that very moment—ride up, dismount, and gather her into his powerful arms—promise her everything would be all right.

  “Let’s go, Cherry,” Billy said. “Let’s go back to yer pa’s place, and you can read that new Oklahoma Jenny book ya got from Mr. Hirsch to us.”

  “What’s this one called, Cherry?” Laura asked.

  Cherry forced a smile and pulled the book out of the pocket of her britches.

  “Oklahoma Jenny and Lawless Sue.”

  “Oklahoma Jenny and Lawless Sue?” Pocket asked. “What’s it about this time, Cherry?”

  “I don’t know. I just picked it up this mornin’.”

  “Well, let’s get to it,” Billy said.

  Cherry smiled. She’d always imagined her own children would turn out to be just about the same way the Parker children had—adventurous, fearless, and full of mischief. She liked them ever so much, and she particularly enjoyed reading to them.

  “Okey dokey,” Cherry said, trying to ignore the fear still lingering in her bosom. “But just for an hour or so. Pa will skin me alive if I’m late for supper again.”

  “Afternoon, Mr. Ray,” Lobo greeted as Arthur tossed a sack of flour into the back of the wagon.

  “Afternoon, Lobo,” Arthur said.

  His heart was still hammering with residual anger. Clarence Gibbs was a coward and it infuriated him! Yet for all Arthur’s talk of confronting Jack Haley when he rode back into town, he knew he couldn’t—not yet—not until Cherry was settled somehow—safe. All these years he’d let it go, let Black Jack Haley linger in Blue Water, let him go on outlawing—all for Cherry’s sake. Arthur knew he was older, slower, and with only one leg to boot. If he were to challenge Jack and lose, Cherry would be left all alone. Nope! He had to think of Cherry first. She’d be settled someday and then—then he could face Black Jack Haley.

  “I…uh…I was wonderin’ if I could speak with ya for a time, sir,” Lobo said.

  Arthur looked up—studied the young man’s face for several moments. Something was on the boy’s mind. Arthur figured there was more on the young man’s mind than a young man should have to have there. Still, though he suspected he knew why Lobo McCoy had come to Blue Water, he’d sure like to know the whole truth. The expression on Lobo McCoy’s face gave Arthur over to thinking the boy might be ready to tell him.

  “All right,” Arthur said, leaning up against the wagon.

  Lobo glanced around them, swallowed hard, and said, “I…I don’t mean to make it difficult for ya, Mr. Ray…but would ya mind if we talked where it might be a bit more private?”

  “Not at all.” His curiosity was piqued to the sky. As Lobo began looking around for a private place to converse, Arthur said, “You got a room over at the boardin’ house, don’t ya, boy?”

  “Yes, sir,” Lobo answered.

  “Well, seems to me that’s as good a place as any,” Arthur said.

  “Yes, sir. It is.”

  Arthur followed Lobo down the boardwalk to the boarding house. He smiled when the young man led him around to the back of the building and through a door there instead of using the front door.

  Once they were inside his room, Lobo closed the door, locked it, and offered Arthur a chair.

  “What’s all this about, boy?” Arthur asked. He figured he knew—wondered why it had taken the boy so long to come to him. Pride perhaps. Or maybe just pure anger.

  “I…uh…I got an awful confession to make, Mr. Ray,” Lobo said.

  Arthur fought the smile wanting to spread across his face.

  “And what’s that?” he asked.

  Lobo reached into the pocket of his britches and placed a large, old Mexican coin in Arthur’s hand.

  Arthur chuckled and studied the coin. “It’s a fine job. Who done it for ya?”

  “A jeweler over in New Orleans.”

  “Lobo McCoy,” Arthur chuckled. “I don’t mean to steal yer thunder, son, but I knew who ya was the first time I laid eyes on ya…well, the first time ya told me yer name anyway.”

  “Well, who I am ain’t really what I was meanin’ to confess, Mr. Ray,” Lobo said. “Though I’m a might certain that yer knowin’ who I am ain’t gonna make this any easier.”

  “Go on,” Arthur urged. The hair on the back of his head prickled, and a dreaded sort of anxiety washed over him.

  “Well, I reckon ya know why I’m here in Blue Water.”

  “I reckon I do,” Arthur said.

  The young man was agitated, nervous—not at all the behavior that had made the name of Lobo McCoy so well-known among outlaws and lawmen alike.

  “Then I reckon ya know how dangerous the town of Blue Water is just now,” he said.

  “I reckon I know that too, boy,” Arthur said. Habit caused him to let his hand rest on the grip of the pistol in his holster.

  “Well, it’s yer girl, Mr. Ray. I know yer quite well aware of the mischief she gets herself into.”

  “But yer gonna tell me I ain’t aware of the worst of it, ain’t ya?” Arthur mumbled. Again the hair at the back of his neck prickled with dread.

  “I’m afraid so, sir.”

  “I’ll drop ya cold dead if ya’ve done anythin’ the like of—” Arthur began.

  “Oh, no, sir!” Lobo interrupted. “It ain’t nothin’ so bad as that. I just worry for her keepin’ safe. She’s awful curious, Mr. Ray…awful curious.”

  “Have ya told her why yer in Blue Water?”

  Lobo shook his head. “No.”

  “Why not?”

  The young man swallowed hard. “I…I don’t want her thinkin’ badly of me, I guess—bein’ fearful.”

  Arthur’s eyes narrowed. Cherry wasn’t too good at hiding her thoughts. He had seen her feelings for Lobo McCoy. The moment he’d ridden into town, Cherry’s eyes lit up like the stars in the heavens. He’d seen the excitement in her eyes the first time Lobo had come dragging her home from spying on him while he was bathing in the creek. He’d seen the radiance on her face the next time he’d come dragging her home like a bad pup—the day they’d been shooting whiskey bottles off fence posts. Both times the fear rising in him increased: he knew who Lobo McCoy really was, knew what kind of a life he led, and Arthur Ray hadn’t wanted that life for his daughter.

  Arthur handed the old Mexican coin back to Lobo. Lobo leaned back, returning the coin to his pocket. “There’s a bit more I’m inclined to confess, Mr. Ray,” he said.

  “What’s that?”

  “It’s—it’s been twice now that I’ve…that I’ve…that I’ve kissed yer girl, sir,” he stammered.

  Initially, Arthur felt rage replacing fe
ar in his chest. He saw the young man’s eyes drop to the gun at Arthur’s hip. “Go on,” Arthur said, trembling with fury.

  “First time was that Sunday we were shootin’ whiskey bottles. Thought I’d teach her a lesson in bein’ so trustin’ of strangers,” Lobo explained. “Then…then the other day…well, she got us both in a pickle, and I—I…truth is I couldn’t help myself, Mr. Ray.”

  Arthur inhaled a deep breath. His anger was subsiding as understanding began to seep into his mind. Black Jack needed hanging. Arthur Ray had spent ten years ignoring the fact of it—allowing the outlaw to linger in Blue Water free as he pleased, all for the sake of caring for Cherry, defending her, providing for her. In those moments, Arthur had begun to realize that someone else was beginning to care for his daughter—watch out for her, protect her, attempt to keep her from mischief and harm. It wasn’t the life he wanted for Cherry—the life a man like Lobo McCoy led. Yet if Lobo changed—gave up the life he was leading in favor of something else—maybe then Arthur finally could confront Black Jack Haley—rid Texas of his murdering ways.

  He studied Lobo for a moment. The boy looked weary—tired of running and chasing and knowing constant anger.

  “There’s a time in every man’s life, Lobo,” Arthur began, “a time when he comes to a split in the trail. If he chooses one trail…then his life goes on the way it always has. But, if he chooses the other trail, things can change…he can change. What’s yer plan, boy? Which trail are ya gonna take? You gonna stay on the trail to Black Jack and the life that’ll bring ya? Or are ya thinkin’ on headin’ off the other way…the way that might lead to me chucklin’ at you sparkin’ with my daughter instead of hangin’ ya high myself?”

  “Maybe I ain’t to the split in the trail yet, Mr. Ray. Maybe I just gotta do what I came here to do ’fore I can ride off in either direction.”

  Arthur nodded. “Maybe.”

  “I…I just thought ya oughta know about Cherry, Mr. Ray. I ain’t slept a wink over worryin’ she’ll be standin’ in the wrong place when Black Jack rides back in.”

  “I’ll see that she ain’t.” His eyes narrowed at the young man. Yep. Maybe the time had finally come that Arthur Ray could stand up on his good leg, call Black Jack Haley out into the street, and try to do what he should have done ten years earlier.

  “Thank ya for not shootin’ me first and askin’ questions later, Mr. Ray,” Lobo said as he stood up, indicating their conversation was over.

  “Yer lucky I didn’t, boy. If anybody else woulda touched my Sweet Cherry…I’da shot him clean between the eyes. Yer a brave man, Lobo McCoy.”

  “She is a sweet girl, Mr. Ray. Full of mischief and vinegar…but sweet as they come.”

  “That’s why her mama and me named her what we did—Sweet Cherry Ray,” Arthur chuckled.

  “You mean Cherry Ray?” Lobo asked.

  Arthur shook his head. “Nope. Sweet Cherry Ray. Cherry’s full name is Sweet Cherry.” Arthur smiled. “Next time you catch her up to no good, you let her know you know her real name.” He laughed. “If that don’t bring out the temper in her, I don’t know what will.”

  Lobo smiled and offered Arthur his hand. Arthur’s eyes narrowed as he looked at the young man. This young man could be about to break his daughter’s heart—scar her beyond recovering. Still, there was something in Lobo’s eyes—the light of a man in line to change.

  Arthur accepted Lobo’s hand. His grip was firm and true.

  “Thank ya again for not shootin’ me, Mr. Ray.”

  “Yer welcome, boy.”

  Lobo closed the door to his boarding house room and went to the window. He watched Arthur Ray crutch himself down the boardwalk, back toward the general store. Wiping the perspiration from his brow, he shook his head—relieved and grateful to be alive. Arthur Ray may be older and missing one leg, but he wasn’t someone a man went up against too easily, and Lobo knew he was a lucky man to have kissed Arthur Ray’s daughter and lived to tell about it.

  He drew his iron and spun the cylinder. Black Jack’s boys were gathering in town. It wouldn’t be long before Lobo would know what his future held.

  Lobo left the boarding house, fetched his horse, and rode out toward Arthur Ray’s ranch. No doubt there’d still be some old broken whiskey bottlenecks out near the east fence. If he was going to impress Black Jack Haley with his quick-draw—well, the more practice the better.

  As Lobo rode beneath the hot summer sun, he couldn’t stop the smile spreading across his face. He didn’t want to.

  “Sweet Cherry Ray,” he chuckled. “Well, that’s about the plainest truth I ever did hear.”

  

  Cherry and Laura held hands, following Billy and Pocket back to the ranch. It was a beautiful, fragrant day. Yet Cherry’s mind and heart were still unsettled. She was worried for her pa. He’d sounded so determined, so sincere about not letting Black Jack Haley outlaw free and unpunished any longer. She knew it was the Ranger in San Antonio, the one Jack had shot in the back. She wondered—had her pa known the murdered Ranger? Was that what had his feathers so ruffled?

  She thought of Lobo then, of his handsome face, alluring smile, and delicious—oh, so delicious—kiss. Why couldn’t he just be a regular cowboy? Why did he have to be so mysterious and intimidating?

  In those moments, Cherry wanted Lobo McCoy for her own more than ever! In truth, every passing moment found her more desperate to own him—more desperate to know his secrets—to know why he was in Blue Water.

  Cherry shook her head. She would think about it later—all of it. For now, she’d sit down in the grass with the Parker children and enjoy her new Oklahoma Jenny. She frowned for a moment. What would Oklahoma Jenny do? Would she let herself be so unsettled, wait for Sheriff Tate to take notice of her? Of course, Oklahoma Jenny already owned Sheriff Tate’s heart. Still, if she hadn’t—if she hadn’t already owned his heart, his love and devotion—would she sit in silence waiting? Nope! Oklahoma Jenny would walk right into Sheriff Tate’s jailhouse, take hold of his coat lapels, and kiss him square on the lips. She’d tell him she loved him and demand he was her own from that moment on.

  Cherry smiled at the thought of waltzing up to Lobo and doing the same. Sheriff Tate was a calm, chatty, rather cheerful man. Cherry shook her head in realizing what kind of a man Lobo was in contrast—secretive, watchful, and most of the time quite serious-minded. Still, he was wonderfully amusing when he was unguarded—as he had been when he’d seen what a good shot Cherry was. And she loved his protective nature! She thought of the times he’d scolded her, warned her about being more careful—it was ever so endearing. And then—then there was his kiss! Goose bumps broke over her arms and legs as she thought of the moist flavor of his kiss. Heavenly!

  Too much thinking was beginning to cause Cherry’s head to ache. She needed some rest. She’d read to the children for a while. There was always time for worry and wonder afterward.

  “Hurry up, Cherry,” Billy called. “There’s a new family in town, and me and Pocket want to spy on them awhile before supper.”

  “A new family?” Cherry asked.

  “Yep,” Pocket answered.

  “They’s got three girls and two boys,” Laura said.

  “When did they arrive?” Cherry asked, for she had heard nothing of the new family in town until that very moment.

  “Just this mornin’,” Billy answered. “They’re takin’ over the boardin’ house in town, now that Mrs. Coleman is movin’ back east with her daughter.”

  “Billy thinks one of them new girls is purty,” Pocket said. “She looked at him once, and he’s still blushin’.”

  “Hush up, Pocket, or I’ll break yer nose,” Billy said.

  Cherry smiled. A new family! That might make for some interesting goings-on—at least for a while. She wondered how old their children were. Did they have any girls her own age? She frowned. What if they had a beautiful daughter her age, just pretty enough to catch Lobo’s eye?

  “How old are
the girls?” she asked. “Is there one my age, do you think?”

  Billy shrugged. “All three of the girls look to be about the same years as me and Pocket,” he said. “The two boys too. It’s hard to say.”

  Cherry rolled her eyes. For all his spying and nosy ways, Billy never seemed to hang on to whatever information he might gather.

  “Here, Cherry!” Laura exclaimed. “Right here under this big oak!”

  “Did yer pa have that broken fence fixed?” Pocket asked, nervously eyeing old Snort. Old Snort stood just behind the fence. Even Cherry thought the enormous Texas longhorn seemed to be glaring at them. Her pa’s prize bull was worth a big sum. Still, Cherry didn’t care for him. Not one bit.

  “Yeah,” Cherry said. She thought of Adam Cunningham. She’d seen him just that morning, and he seemed to be feeling better. Still, she hated old Snort for horning the cowboy.

  “Even still, let’s sit back here—behind the tree where Snort can’t see us too well.”

  “Fine with me,” Pocket said.

  “Now,” Cherry began as the children sat down in the fragrant, green grass beneath the tree, “let’s see who Lawless Sue is.”

  

  “As Jenny peeked through the window of the old cabin, she thought sure she smelled blood,” Cherry read. “With a nose like a new hound pup and eyes like a cougar, Oklahoma Jenny carefully opened the cabin door and peered into the darkness.”

  “She’s in there!” Pocket whispered. “I know she’s in there!”

  “Hush, Pocket!” Billy scolded. “You’ll ruin the story. Go on there, Cherry. Who’s in the cabin?”

  Cherry smiled as she looked at Laura’s widened eyes. So excited by the story, the girl had twisted the fabric of her dress into knots. She continued reading.

  “One more step, stranger, and I’ll blow a hole in yer gut the size of Texas,” Lawless Sue said.

  “That you, Sue?” Jenny asked. Jenny held her breath, kept her finger inchin’ on her Winchester’s trigger as Lawless Sue stepped outta the shadows.

  “Oklahoma Jenny,” Lawless Sue laughed. “I mighta known it’d be you who’d be ridin’ out this way.”