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The Ranger Takes a Bride

Page 9

by Misty M. Beller


  So why did she hate only him? He had to know. Had to find out how to fix this. Before it killed him.

  After unsaddling the gelding and leaving him in Juan's capable hands, Edward jogged up the porch stairs and into the house. The place was quiet, almost eerily so. If Anna was following the doctor's orders, she would be in her bedroom on the lower level. He headed there.

  Knocking on the open door, he peeked around the edge. "Anyone home?"

  "Come in, little brother." Anna rested among the covers, her hair mussed and voice groggy from sleep.

  "Did I wake you?" He stepped into the room and plopped on the chair near the bed.

  "Not really. There's nothing to do all day except sleep and eat and sew." She pointed toward a mound of fabric on a trunk against the wall. "I've made enough baby clothes to last until the child turns twenty."

  He offered a chuckle. "Where's your entertainment staff?"

  "Mama Sarita and Alejandra took Emmaline to town with them. She's dying to see Aunt Laura, so I told them to spend the day."

  Edward nodded. Now he could talk without being overheard. He leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "Anna. Do you know what I've done to make Alejandra so angry?"

  She raised both brows. Maybe his question had been a bit abrupt. No use beating around the bush, though. "What makes you think you've done something?" She tilted her chin suspiciously. "Is there something I should know about?"

  He jerked back and held up his palms. "No, I haven't done a thing." He settled back with his elbows on his knees. "That I know of anyway. It's just…the first few times I saw her, she was plenty nice. Then that time she saw me riding out for work wearing my badge, she acted like I was gonna tie her up and haul her to jail. Ever since then, she gets spittin' mad just lookin' at me. Monty thinks she has something against soldiers, and my badge reminds her of it." He eyed her carefully. "Has she said anything to you about it?"

  Anna sighed. The long, dramatic kind women do when they want you to know they're thinking hard about something. She gazed past him toward the open door, but her mind didn't seem to be where she was looking.

  At long last, she focused on him. The sadness in her face caught his breath. "Edward. I wish I could make it better for you, I do. But it's not my story to tell. What I can say is, you need to find a way to prove to her you're a good soldier."

  He met Anna's gaze, frustration welling in his chest. "But how do I do that? She won't get near me."

  "I don't know, Eddie. I honestly don't. Have you prayed about it?"

  He sat back in the chair. "Prayed? Yeah. I have. But God's not telling me what to do."

  The corners of her mouth lifted a bit. "Keep praying. It has to come in His time. He'll make the way clear."

  Anna's face pinched, and she slid a hand to the base of her huge middle.

  Edward's heart seized. "What's wrong? Should I ride for the doctor?"

  She grabbed his arm before he could jump up and head for the door. "No, silly. Just a twinge. This baby's as feisty as his daddy."

  He scrutinized her, but she didn't look to be in pain anymore. If the baby was coming, the pain wouldn't go away so quickly, right?

  "You must be hungry." Anna released his arm with a motherly pat. "I think there's some peach pie left from dinner last night. Why don't you bring us both a piece, then you can tell me about your latest Ranger adventure."

  Peach pie. Yes, that was just the thing. He rose and strode toward the kitchen. But as he walked, Anna's words came back to haunt him. Keep praying. He'll make the way clear.

  Pausing in the kitchen doorway, Edward surveyed the room that even smelled like Alejandra. God. I don't know what to do. Please make the way clear. Show me how to help Alejandra.

  Chapter Twelve

  A flash lit the night sky as a blast of gunpowder exploded near the shack in the valley below.

  "Give it up, Matthews!" Edward called down to the source of the blast. "You're blocked in. Give yourself up." His breath clouded in the frigid mountain air.

  "I ain't goin' nowhere with you, lawman." Another flash and boom from below.

  "Dead or alive. It's your choice," he shouted back. He scanned the darkness below. No movement that he could see. Where was Lockton? The other Ranger should be in place by now.

  A shouted curse echoed from the valley, followed by the sounds of a scuffle and winded grunts. That's what he'd been waiting for. Edward leaped forward, traipsed down the hill with his Winchester rifle at the ready. Matthews should be the only bandit in this grovel of a cabin, but a Ranger never took anything for granted.

  By the time he reached them, Lockton had the thief on the ground with a knot of rope already started around the man's wrists.

  "I'll take care o' this snake. You wanna check the cabin for the goods?" Lockton snarled as he yanked another loop tight. His scowl alone was enough to make some men turn themselves in.

  Edward booted the cabin door open, and scanned the room with his rifle barrel. Nothing moved. He stepped in farther, and his ears picked up a noise. A soft whining drifted from the corner, behind the small round stove.

  He advanced closer. A dog? There in a shredded flannel blanket, lay a fur-covered skeleton. The only sign it still lived was the slight thump, thump of its light brown tail as the animal looked at him with glassy, soulful eyes.

  Edward dropped to one knee and reached to stroke the animal. It flinched from his hand, but didn't seem to have enough strength to move far. Poor thing. What had the man done to it? Its fur was cold, and patches were missing all over the dog's coat, but its tail still fanned across the blanket. The tail moved again, but it wasn't wagging this time. Was there something underneath?

  In answer to his question, a tiny muzzle peeked out between the hair. The whine sounded again, and this time it was clear the noise came from the puppy that wriggled out from under the dog's tail.

  Edward scooped it up as gently as he could, and cradled the cool body against his chest. It couldn't be more than three or four weeks old. The puppy was lean, but not nearly as emaciated as the mother. A surge of anger washed through him. How could any man, even a blackguard like Matthews, treat his animals with such complete lack of concern?

  The mother dog lay still now, not even her tail moving. With one hand still cuddling the puppy, Edward stroked the coarse hair of the older dog. She responded with a slight dip of her nose. Her ribs were so pronounced, the skin pooled between each of them. Their outline barely rose and fell with each labored breath.

  She wouldn't make it. The unfortunate animal was too weak. Even if he stayed an extra night to nurse her, she might not live until morning.

  He placed the puppy next to its mother, then rose to his feet and turned toward the shelves that appeared to hold food stores. Maybe he could find something she could eat to dull the pain and hunger. After a quick search, the best option looked to be the pot of beans cooling on the back of the stove. He scooped some onto a tin plate, then lowered it to the dogs. The puppy had curled up in the crook of its mother's front legs, and watched him with wide eyes.

  As Edward's gaze trailed up to the mother's pronounced ribs, his chest constricted. They didn't move. He held a finger under her nose, but no wind brushed his skin. The poor animal. She didn't deserve such a tragic ending.

  After some prodding, he finally got the puppy to lick some of the broth from the beans. Lockton came in, and grumbled about having to search the cabin for stolen goods on his own while Edward played with the animals. But a look at the puppy seemed to soften even the seasoned lawman's tough heart.

  Once they had the recovered loot loaded on their horses and Matthews tied on his own scrawny beast, they mounted and started up the winding trail. Lockton led Matthews' horse with Edward trailing them to keep an eye on the prisoner.

  The puppy fit perfectly in the inside pocket of his coat and seemed to be content enough, except for an occasional whine. As soon as they got to the town on the other side of the hills, he'd buy some cow's milk to fee
d the tiny fellow.

  But then what should he do with it? Find someone in town willing to take it in? And how good were the odds that it would end up like its mother, starving to death in a dirty shack? No, this puppy was going home with him. But what would he do with it when he left on assignments? Maybe Anna and Emmaline would have mercy on the little guy.

  ~ ~ ~

  Alejandra leaned to sweep under the smallest chair in the front parlor, while Emmaline chattered to her doll on the sofa across the room. The household had fallen into the habit of speaking Spanish most of the time since she and Mama Sarita came to live there. A practice that made things easier for Alejandra, but didn't much help her learn the American language. But Emmaline wasn't as fluent as the rest of them, and still spoke American when she wasn't talking directly to Alejandra.

  While she worked, Alejandra strained to understand the child's words. Something about making tea and Papa coming home.

  A dog barked in the yard, drawing Alejandra's attention to the window. The ranch had only one dog that she knew of, and he usually went out with the vaqueros to help with the cattle. Had Juan kept him in the barn today?

  The animal barked again, an excited yip that seemed to be an alert. Alejandra strode to the window to get a better view of the yard. A rider dismounted, his broad shoulders recognizable even though his back was turned as he faced the dog. Edward. He held a hand to the animal, while his other gripped the side of his jacket. The dog raised up on his hind legs, peering inside Edward's coat. What in the world? Maybe he had a treat there for the animal. The way its tail wagged, that had to be the case.

  Juan approached them and picked up the horse's reins, then stood to watch Edward and the dog. After a moment, he shook his head and walked away, a grin raising the corners of his mouth.

  Edward straightened with a final ruffle to the dog's head. Holding his coat closed across his chest, he strode toward the house.

  When his boot steps sounded on the front porch, Emmaline looked up from her doll. Seeing him through the window, she leaped from the couch and ran to the door. "Uncle Eddie!"

  She threw herself at his legs, her little girl arms not reaching very far around. There was nothing quite like the love of a child.

  Edward's gaze snagged on Alejandra's before he squatted down to Emmaline's level. "I brought a special present for you, Emmy-girl. But first, have you been good?"

  Emmaline clasped her hands behind her back and nodded. "Uh-huh."

  "And have you obeyed everything your mama and papa and Señorita Alejandra and Mama Sarita have said?"

  Her head bobbed again. "Uh-huh. Now can I see the present?"

  His mouth cocked, pressing a dimple in his cheek. "Okay, then." He opened his coat and reached into his pocket. Then pulled out…a dog. A little tiny puppy, just barely longer than his hand.

  Alejandra gasped, but the sound was drowned by Emmaline's squeal. The girl reached to take hold of the animal, but Edward caught her hands.

  "Whoa, slow down there. Just pet him like this." He cradled her tiny hand in his as they stroked the puppy.

  Emmy giggled. "He's so soft."

  The whole scene made Alejandra's lungs ache. How precious the little puppy was. Especially in the arms of the big, strong hombre, while cute little Emmaline stroked and talked to it. What was a soldier doing with a little puppy like that? Soldiers killed, not rescued. But maybe as a gift for Emmaline, he was willing to make the effort to bring it home. Edward seemed to love his family, if no one else.

  "You know what, Emmy-bug? This little guy's getting hungry. You wanna help me feed him?" Edward sat back on his heels, preparing to stand.

  "What does he eat?"

  He patted the lower pocket of his coat. "I have his favorite milk, right here."

  Edward looked up at Alejandra then, and caught her watching them. She jerked her gaze away, but heat climbed up her back.

  "Alejandra, would you like to come help us?" His voice deepened, becoming milky rich. Something in his tone reminded her of that day in San Antonio, when he helped her obtain the wagon to travel to Seguin. He'd been so helpful. So kind.

  She kept her eyes fastened on the floor. "I, uh. I better not." Reaching for the broom again, she busied herself with the dust pile she'd created.

  A long silence hovered, but she didn't look up.

  Finally, Edward spoke again in a quiet tone. "Come on, Emmaline. Let's go get his food ready."

  And then they were gone. Leaving Alejandra with only her memories to fill the void.

  ~ ~ ~

  Alejandra pushed the hair from her face with the back of her wrist, then thrust her hands into the soapy water again to finish scrubbing the pan from dinner. One stubborn strand of hair remained, tickling her nose. She blew, jutting her bottom lip so the air flew upward. That seemed to take care of the wayward tendril.

  A giggle sounded in the hallway, followed by footsteps and voices as Emmaline promenaded into the room. As usual, she chattered like a magpie. But the voice that responded was not Mama Sarita's. Its tenor was deep and masculine, but not the child's father. What was Edward doing in her kitchen again?

  Alejandra didn't turn around, but kept her ear tuned to what she could understand of their conversation. Emmaline prattled about the puppy and her doll and a lot of other words Alejandra couldn't understand.

  But when Edward's next words came, they were in Spanish. "Alejandra, we just came in to feed the puppy. Is there anything we can help you with first?"

  She whirled to face him. "Um. No." Why wouldn't her brain work? "No, I'm almost done."

  "Okay, then. Just let us know if you find something."

  He wanted to help? But that's what his brother paid her to do.

  Alejandra turned back to the wash bucket, but her ears stayed tuned as Edward's boots clomped to the pantry, then back to the table. He and Emmaline settled down on the floor, and Alejandra snuck a peak to see them cross-legged.

  Edward handed the puppy to Emmaline. "Here, cradle your arms like I showed you, and let the puppy rest on them. There. See how cozy he feels?"

  He removed a lid from a jar, and poured milk onto a small plate. "Okay, now. Can you set him on the floor so we can help him eat?"

  Emmaline gave the puppy a quick peck on top of its head, then placed him in front of the plate.

  Edward guided the little guy toward the milk, and coaxed him to dip his snout in. The puppy must have dipped too far, because he came up sputtering and sneezing little white drops.

  Alejandra bit her lip against a smile.

  "Come on, fella. You'll like it once you try it," Edward crooned to the puppy. For such a big man, he was being incredibly gentle.

  "He's doing it. He's drinking." Excitement laced Emmaline's words, as she rose to her knees and bounced.

  "Easy there, cowgirl." Edward held up a hand to calm her. "We don't want to scare him."

  The puppy seemed to have figured out how to drink the milk, because he lapped for several minutes while Edward held him in position. At last, the animal looked up from its dinner, then collapsed into Edward's hand.

  "I think he might be finished." Edward scooped him up and snuggled him close, his gaze turning toward Alejandra.

  Heat crawled up her neck. He'd caught her watching them. Again. She spun back to her work.

  "Would you like to hold him, Alejandra?" The rich tone of Edward's voice stopped her movement. She forced herself to breathe.

  "Come on, Miss Alejandra. He likes to lick my fingers." Emmaline giggled. "Maybe he'll lick yours, too."

  Alejandra turned slowly back to them, the happy sounds pulling her like food to a starving child. Emmaline giggled again as Edward held the puppy up to sniff her ear.

  One step at a time, her feet carried her toward them.

  Emmaline patted the floor next to her. "Come sit next to me, and I'll show you how to hold it." She took the puppy from Edward as if she'd handled baby animals all her life.

  "You have to make a cradle in your arms l
ike this for him to snuggle into." The little girl demonstrated, a little rougher than the puppy might have liked, but it didn't complain.

  "Like this?" Alejandra mimicked Emmaline's arms.

  "Yes. Now you can hold him."

  The puppy's warmth washed through Alejandra, and she snuggled it under her chin. The little fellow nuzzled her neck, then licked his rough tongue across her finger. She almost giggled the way Emmaline had. But on the heels of the laughter came a longing she hadn't felt in weeks. Rudy used to snuggle under her chin like this. Her precious cat. Was he safe now? Somewhere warm and dry, with a full belly and someone to love him? She had to believe that. Anything else was too hard to imagine. Alejandra bit her lip to hold back the tears. She had to think about something else.

  Emmaline reached to stroke the puppy, and Alejandra focused on the girl. A soft smile curved the child's mouth, and her blue eyes twinkled as she watched the animal.

  Alejandra's gaze drifted to Edward—and collided with his warm brown eyes. Watching her. Something about the softness in his expression. The way his eyes glistened. The sting of tears burned again. He was being too nice. How could she hate the man when he was so kind?

  But she had to stay strong. He was a soldier. And no matter what, she couldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing her weak.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Two days later, Edward carried his bedroll in one hand and the puppy in the other, as he tromped down the stairs. "You hungry, fella? We'll stop outside for a minute, then see what we can round up for us to eat."

  A blast of cold air slapped his face when he opened the front door. On the porch, Edward dropped his bedroll by the door, then jogged down the steps and set the puppy in a grassy area. "Do your business, boy. Tired of cleanin' up after you in my room." It was a good thing Anna wasn't up and around much, or she'd never stand for the dog in his bedchamber. But the puppy was just a little tike, not big enough to stay by himself in the barn.

 

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