Sweet Cherry Ray

by McClure, Marcia Lynn

  “He’ll drop you cold where you stand if you touch her,” Billy answered.

  Jack chuckled and looked at Cherry. “Pinky said you was sweet on that purty Ranger. What a shame,” he said, shaking his head. “I hate to hafta kill a man as purty as I hear he is. Ain’t enough purty boys in this world. Still, he’s gunnin’ for me…ain’t he, Cherry? And since he’s gunnin’ for me, I’ll hafta shoot him first.”

  “In the back…the way some coward in San Antonio shot his brother?” Cherry asked.

  The back of his hand was hard against her tender cheek. The force of the blow knocked her to the ground.

  “Cherry!” Mrs. Blakely cried. “Hush now! Don’t provoke him any further!”

  “I’ll drop him whichever way I can,” Jack snarled. “He didn’t have no right to come into my town a-lookin’ to gun fer me!”

  “I’ve seen his draw,” Cherry said, struggling to her feet. “And you ain’t anywhere near fast enough.”

  “Even if he is faster than me—which he ain’t—I ain’t worried. ’Cause I got somethin’ he wants.”

  Hot fear ran through Cherry’s veins—the hair on the top of her head prickled.

  Jack reached down, taking hold of her arm and yanking her to her feet.

  “I got you,” he said.

  Cherry shook her head. Gritting her teeth, she growled, “I ain’t goin’ nowhere with you.”

  Black Jack Haley chuckled. “Yes ya are.”

  Cherry screamed as Jack pointed his gun at Billy and pulled the trigger! Billy Parker reeled back, stumbled, and fell against the porch steps.

  “Billy!” Cherry cried. “Billy!” Struggling to break free of Jack’s grip, she tried to get to Billy—to reach him before it was too late.

  “I-I’m fine, Cherry,” he said, holding his forearm. “I-I’m fine.”

  Mrs. Blakely’s sobs were now audible.

  “Shut yer mouth, old woman!” Jack shouted. “I’ll kill him if ya sass me one more time, Cherry,” Jack said, leveling his pistol at Billy once more. “Now, you come along with me…or I’ll kill the boy.”

  “No, Cherry!” Mrs. Blakely whispered.

  “I told you to shut yer mouth!” Jack said, lowering his gun at Mrs. Blakely.

  “No! Don’t!” Cherry cried. “I’ll—I’ll go. Whatever you want…just leave them alone.”

  Jack moved his pistol an inch and fired again, hitting Griff in the right leg.

  “That’s right…you will,” Jack growled.

  Cherry was sobbing, frightened beyond thinking! As Billy moved toward her, Cherry shook her head. “It’ll be fine, Billy,” she said. “It—it’ll be just fine.”

  “Come on, girl,” Jack said, pulling Cherry with him as he backed away. “If any of ya try to follow me…I’ll kill her.” Jack laughed and kissed Cherry’s temple as he pulled her back against his body. “Now…let’s get back to town so I can get a look at yer pretty little Texas Ranger. What do ya think he’ll have to say when he sees I’ve got me a new girl?”

  “He’ll kill you,” Cherry breathed. She winced as Jack twisted her arm behind her back.

  “Oh, I’m afraid not, Cherry. I’m afraid that after today, you’ll be buryin’ yer purty Ranger—and yer pa—right out there in the boneyard with yer ma. Now come on!”

  Cherry tried not to struggle. She looked over her shoulder to see Billy and Mrs. Blakely crouched over Griff.

  “Now come on, Cherry,” Jack said. “You don’t want no more blood on yer hands.”

  “You’re the one with blood on yer hands, Jack,” Cherry sobbed. “Y-you murdered Pinky!”

  “I didn’t kill Pinky, Cherry Ray,” Jack growled as he placed the barrel of his pistol to her back and nodded to his horse. “Lobo McCoy did!” Cherry put her foot in the stirrup and mounted Jack’s horse. In a moment, he was mounted behind her. “Pinky didn’t want me to gun down that purty Ranger of yers. She lied to me ’cause of him. I put the bullet in her chest…but it was yer Ranger that killed her.”

  Jack hollered, and his horse bolted into a full gallop. Tears streamed down Cherry’s face; her mind twisted with fear and confusion. He’d use her—she knew. Black Jack Haley would use her to kill Lobo and her pa! Frantically, she tried to think of a way to escape. As the horse carried them toward Blue Water, Cherry Ray tried to think of a way to save Lobo and her pa—but there was nothing—nothing but terrifying fear and bitter, bitter despair.

  She closed her eyes as they rode past the cherry tree her mother had planted. In her mind, she could see Lobo the day he’d been shot—see his smile only moments before the Baxter men had gunned him down. On her lips, she could almost feel his kiss—nearly sense his arms around her. Black Jack’s breath on her neck ripped her from the daydream. Black Jack Haley was a coward—and Lobo McCoy wasn’t. She knew Lobo would walk straight out in the street to meet Jack. She also knew Jack would be too cowardly to do the same. Jack intended to use her—to use Cherry to distract and dishearten Lobo. She thought about throwing herself off the horse, but she knew Jack would simply stop and force her to ride with him once more. She’d wait—wait until they got to town. Maybe then she could think—find a way to escape from Jack and save Lobo and her pa.

  

  “Jack’s boys are holed up in the saloon,” Lobo told Arthur. “But there ain’t no sign of Jack.”

  “Well, Pinky Chitter’s laid out in Doc Milton’s house…and sure as I’m standin’ here, she’s dead. So where’s Jack?”

  Lobo shook his head. “I don’t know….but I ain’t waitin’ around to get shot in the back. Let’s have us a discussion with his boys.”

  Arthur nodded. He watched as Lobo fearlessly crossed the street toward the saloon. Lobo had a reason to finish what he came to Blue Water for. He knew Lobo’s love of Cherry would give him a strength and determination—a strength and determination even his brother’s death hadn’t given him. Furthermore, Cherry would be cared for and loved—well cared for—obsessively loved. It made Arthur happy to think of Cherry and Lobo married, three or four little grandbabies running around in the pasture. He’d have to get rid of old Snort. That bull was too dangerous to keep when children were about.

  With his own renewed determination, Arthur Ray crutched across the street behind Lobo McCoy. It was coming—the end of Black Jack’s reign over Blue Water. Yes, indeed—it was coming.

  Lobo walked through the saloon doors. He knew Arthur would make certain Jack didn’t shoot him in the back. Arthur Ray was a tough old bird. Furthermore, he had his daughter in mind—her happiness. Lobo tried to push thoughts of Cherry from his consciousness. If he wanted her—wanted her for his own—then he had to finish what he’d come to Blue Water to start. Once Black Jack was in prison, Cherry could be his. He’d never known such powerful motivation.

  “Where is he, boys?” Lobo asked as Fuss Ingram, Tucker Johnson, and Lee Taylor stood up from the table they’d been sitting at.

  “Where’s who, Ranger?” Fuss said.

  “If you boys think he’s gonna show you any more respect and loyalty than he did Pinky…you’re dead wrong,” Arthur said.

  “Pinky did wrong by Jack,” Fuss said.

  “Is that so?” Lobo asked. “Well…I think Jack’s turnin’ a corner, boys. He’s turnin’ a corner, and he’s gonna want to leave everybody else behind. Includin’ you three boys.”

  “Jack won’t turn on us,” Lee said.

  “I ain’t gonna stand here and tell you boys what you already know,” Lobo said. “I just want to know where he is. Fact is, I won’t even drag you boys back to San Antonio—that is, if you tell me where Jack is and ride outta Blue Water right now. Give me Jack and you boys don’t hafta go to prison…or die.”

  “Jack’s gonna blow yer head wide open,” Fuss said.

  Arthur watched as Fuss Ingram drew on Lobo—but before the outlaw had cleared leather, he shouted when Lobo shot the gun from his hand.

  Lee and Tucker put their hands on their guns but paused when Lobo said, “I’l
l drop you cold ’fore ya have a chance to finish drawin’.”

  Arthur smiled—delighted and awed by Lobo’s speed and accuracy. He figured Lobo McCoy was faster than even he’d been in his prime.

  “Coulda shot ya between the eyes just as easy, Fuss,” Lobo said. “So tell me where Jack is.”

  Fuss swallowed. It was obvious he was rattled—still, his fear of Jack held strong.

  “You can tell us now, Fuss…or you can stand there a-wonderin’ if Jack can outdraw Lobo McCoy,” Arthur said.

  “Holster yer iron, Ranger,” Fuss said. “Holster yer iron and…and I’ll…”

  “Jack will drop you dead, Fuss,” Tucker interrupted.

  “Ain’t no way you can beat Jack, Ranger,” Fuss said. “Not with what he’s bringin’ with him.”

  “It don’t matter to me how many boys he’s got ridin’ in,” Lobo said. “I’ll drop him ’fore they drop me.”

  “It ain’t that,” Fuss said. Lobo heard a horse coming hard down the street, but he didn’t turn. He didn’t dare. Fear crept into his mind, trepidation washing over him as Jack’s boys looked past him to the street outside the saloon—as Arthur Ray breathed, “Cherry!”

  “Come on out, Lobo McCoy!” Jack shouted as he reined in the horse before the saloon. “I’ve got yer Sweet Cherry Ray here! She’s hopin’ to see ya one last time!”

  Cherry wiped the tears from her cheeks as Jack dismounted, pulling her from the horse. Black Jack Haley would kill Lobo! He’d kill her pa too! She had to escape. She struggled as he took hold of her arm.

  “Now, you don’t want to die too…do ya, Cherry Ray?” Jack growled. “Come on! Yah!” he hollered, slapping his horse to send it galloping away. Jack pulled Cherry to stand in front of him and put the barrel of his pistol to her head. “Come on out, Ranger! You too, Arthur Ray. Get on out here!”

  Cherry grimaced, sobbed as her pa crutched out of the saloon—as Lobo stepped out as well.

  “Well, my, my, my,” Jack chuckled. “You is one purty feller.”

  “You can go quiet back to San Antonio, Jack,” Arthur began, “or you can go to yer grave with a bit more noise.”

  “I ain’t goin’ nowhere, old man.” Jack cocked his pistol, and Cherry held her breath. “But she is—if’n you to don’t put yer guns down.”

  Cherry looked to Lobo—saw the anger in his eyes—the anger and the fear.

  “You shoot her and ya ain’t got a chance,” Lobo said. “Hidin’ behind a woman,” he added. “You ain’t even got the courage to be a man and face me off proper.”

  “I got plenty a courage,” Jack growled.

  “Don’t look like it from where we’re standin’, Jack,” Arthur said. “It ain’t no kinda man who’ll shoot the woman that loves him. That there’s a coward.”

  “You shut yer mouth!” Jack shouted suddenly. “She done me wrong! She done me wrong, and I give her what she deserved.”

  Cherry watched as Fuss Ingram, Tucker Johnson, and Lee Taylor slowly made their way out of the saloon and into the street. They stood behind Jack, and Cherry closed her eyes. Someone would die—her pa or Lobo. If she didn’t do something, one or both of them would die.

  “Face ’em like a man,” she breathed. “You’re a coward. I know it, your boys know it, and Pinky knew it.”

  “Shut up, Cherry!” Jack growled, moving the barrel of his gun from her head—pointing it at Lobo’s. “Shut up!”

  “Only a coward would hide behind me…provin’ to the whole wide world that he is a coward!” she added.

  He pushed her hard—threw her to the ground with brutal force. And she thanked the Lord for the evil side of pride.

  “All right, Ranger,” Jack said. “We’ll go around. We’ll go around, and you’ll die.”

  “Move, Cherry,” Lobo growled. And she obeyed. Quickly she crawled out of the path of the men.

  “But it’s me and you, Ranger,” Jack added, “Arthur Ray needs to drop his iron.”

  “Well, I would, Jack,” Arthur said. “But, from where I’m standin’, looks like yer boys ain’t movin’ off.”

  “Drop yer iron, Arthur…else Fuss’ll shoot yer girl.”

  “Drop it, Mr. Ray,” Lobo said. “It’ll be fine.”

  Jack laughed. “You gonna face me and my boys alone, Ranger.”

  Lobo’s eyes narrowed. “Way I figure it, there’s only four of you…and I got five shots in my iron.”

  “Pa! No!” Cherry cried as she saw her pa slowly draw his weapon. He tossed it to the dirt and crutched to where Cherry now stood.

  “Pa!” she cried. “Pa, you can’t let him—”

  “He’ll be all right, Cherry,” Arthur said. “He’s right. He’s got six shots and only four outlaws to drop.”

  Arthur smiled at Fuss Ingram when he frowned. Lobo McCoy was the fastest pistoleer he’d ever seen. Furthermore, Lobo was ready to finish his rangering days. Arthur was surprised by the peace washing over him. Black Jack Haley wouldn’t go to prison. He wouldn’t hang either. Black Jack Haley was about to be gunned down by a Texas Ranger.

  “I’ll give ya one more chance, Jack,” Lobo said.

  “Lobo!” Cherry whispered. “No!” Her pa held tightly to her arms. She couldn’t believe her pa thought Lobo could talk Jack into going back to San Antonio to hang! Was he truly going to stand there and watch Lobo McCoy be gunned down?

  “Drop yer iron and come on back to San Antonio,” Lobo said. “Maybe the judge will go easy on ya.”

  “I ain’t goin’ back to San Antonio.”

  “What about yer boys? You gonna take them down with ya?”

  “I’ll take ’em down myself if they turn tail before I’ve dropped you, Ranger.”

  “You ain’t faster than me, Jack,” Lobo said. “I promise you this—yer a murderin’ outlaw. And now…now you’ve threatened to harm my family. I ain’t gonna let ya live. I’ll shoot to kill before I let you live to kill again.”

  “He’s awful fast, Jack,” Fuss Ingram mumbled.

  “Shut up, Fuss!” Jack shouted. “You know I’m faster!”

  Cherry tried to breathe—tried not to faint. The townsfolk in Blue Water lined the street on both sides now—watched from windows and held their breath. Lobo McCoy was about to be gunned down in Blue Water—and when he was, the town would be at the mercy of Black Jack Haley.

  Tucker Johnson took a step backward, and Jack said, “If he don’t kill ya, I will, Tucker.” Tucker stopped, perspiration running over his face.

  “You and me, Ranger,” Jack said.

  Lobo grinned. “If that’s the way you want it, Jack. Then you just say when.”

  “Pa,” Cherry whispered.

  “He’ll be fine, Cherry. He’ll be fine. He’s fightin’ for a life with you. He’ll be fine.”

  The sun blazed hot—the only sound was that of the breeze, a meadowlark’s call, and its mate’s answer.

  Cherry watched—watched Black Jack’s fingers poised above the grip of his gun. She gasped and screamed, “No!” as shots rang out.

  It was over in an instant—in the time it took to draw a breath—Cherry Ray’s life was changed forever.

  She stood, breathless with horror—unable to move as she looked at the four dead men lying in the dirt. Glancing over to Lobo, she watched as he triggerguard-spun his pistol several times before holstering it.

  No one moved—no one seemed to breathe.

  “He done it, Mr. Ray. He really done it. I ain’t never seen the like.”

  Cherry turned to see Billy Parker walking toward them. Blood stained his shirt sleeve, but he seemed unaffected, his gaze fixed on Lobo McCoy.

  “How’d you get here, boy? And what in the world happened to ya?” Arthur asked.

  “I rode Griff’s horse,” Billy said. “Mrs. Blakely’s got Griff in the wagon. She’s bringin’ him in to see Doc Milton.”

  “What happened to Griff?” Arthur asked.

  Cherry’s heart began to beat with a different sort of rhythm—the rhythm a woman’s
heart beats when the man she loves is looking at her.

  “Black Jack shot him,” Cherry mumbled. “He shot Billy too.”

  Cherry felt goose bumps racing over her body—butterflies soaring in her stomach as Lobo starred at her—sauntered toward her. She was only slightly aware of the commotion that erupted around her—of her pa ordering Billy to Doc Milton’s—hollering at the men in town to help him drag off the bodies of Black Jack Haley and his boys. She thought he may have told Mr. Hirsch to send a telegram to San Antonio. Still, she wasn’t certain—for all that mattered in the world to her, all she could see, was Lobo—Lobo McCoy as he sauntered closer.

  She felt a smile spread across her face as her feet carried her toward him—as she ran toward him—as he caught her in his arms—gathered her against his strong body and kissed her.

  “Lobo!” she breathed. “I—he—he—”

  “Hush, darlin’. I don’t want to think about all this no more today. Yer safe—and yer pa. That’s all that matters to me.” He kissed her again—moist affection drenching them both in passion. Cherry thought she heard Laura Parker, heard her gasp, heard Mrs. Parker tell her to quit watching such goings-on—but she didn’t care. Lobo was safe! He was alive and safe, and he was going to belong to her.

  “Marry me, Cherry?” he mumbled against her mouth. “Today—right now. I know it ain’t very romantic—nothin’ like Oklahoma Jenny and Sheriff Tate would do.” He smiled at her—brushed a stray strand of hair from her cheek. “But I finished what I came to do and—”

  “Yes!” Cherry exclaimed, throwing her arms around his neck. “I’ll marry you today…this very minute!”

  Lobo smiled and kissed her again. “I’m in mind we need the preacher.” His warm brown eyes gazed into her blue ones. He loved her! She could see herself in his eyes, and he loved her. Her heart fluttered, beat fiercely as she realized that Lobo McCoy loved her as much as she loved him!

  “Billy,” Cherry said, turning to her young friend. He’d obviously disobeyed her pa and still stood in awe instead of going to fetch Doc Milton. “Fetch the preacher after Doc Milton doctors up yer arm, will ya?”