Today she’d worn her jeans, one of Royce’s shirts, and an old duster jacket she’d found in the chifforobe. She’d piled her hair on top of her head, put on an old work hat, and stuffed any stray locks under the band. For good measure, she spit on her hands, rubbed them in the dirt, and then smeared it over her face and neck. Dressed as she was, she didn’t think anyone would recognize her. Strawberry was a different story. She’d have to hide her somewhere while she skulked about town.
Texanna tied her horse to a tree in a grove just outside of Waco and, with the Winchester balanced on her shoulder, walked the rest of the way into town. Avoiding the stores where she might be recognized, she continued to walk up and down the sidewalk within easy viewing distance of the bank. Shortly before noon she noticed Royce, Pete, and several other deputies stationed at various points around the block. She tried to remain in the shade under the overhang of the storefronts so she wouldn’t be seen.
It was time to get inside the bank. Her plan was to somehow get upstairs and set up a position from the second floor window. From there she’d be able to see directly down on the street and the side street. She’d just started across Austin Avenue to the bank when four riders came down the street. They stopped a block away, tethered their horses, and split up.
Texanna imitated the walk of a cowboy thrown from his horse one too many times. From under her hat she noticed Royce glance her way and then toward the scattering four riders. She sighed with relief, and mimicking a gimp leg, hitched herself up the steps and into the bank.
At the teller’s window, she kept her head low and spoke through her nose as if she had a speech impediment. “Kin you gibe me the papers to deposit my dollars?”
Herschel, if she remembered his name correctly, eyed her suspiciously and slid a form and a pencil across to her.
She gave him a twisted grin and snorted a couple of times. “Be kay ifin I sits on them thar steps?”
He nodded. “Yes, Ma…sir…ahem, uh, I mean yes, that’ll be fine.”
Texanna wanted to laugh but bobbed her head and moved to sit on the stairs. She laid the Winchester on the step above. From there she had a good view of the front door and could crawl up to the second floor without being noticed. One of the riders made the block and was about to enter through a side entrance. She quietly grabbed the rifle and hustled up the stairs.
The man walked up to the teller and dropped a sack of coins on the counter. “I’d like to leave this for deposit.”
“Do you have an account with us, Mister?”
“No, but I’d like to open one.”
The teller cut his eyes toward where Texanna had been sitting on the steps, looked back at the customer, and then shoved paper and pencil toward him. “Please stand here, and I’ll take it when you’re finished.” He turned and glanced to the second story landing.
Texanna’s stomach clinched with nerves. The man was Jim Bass. His picture had been in the history book of Pearl’s. She removed her hat so Herschel could see her face and held her finger over her lips. It shook so much she was afraid he’d think she was waving. She forced it to stay steady and pointed to the man at the counter and then to the one standing on the outer steps with his back to them. Before she could mouth, “wait,” Herschel had sounded the alarm.
The man at the counter quickly drew his gun, aimed at the teller, and covered his mouth with a bandanna. “Hold it right there, fella.” Herschel stopped, hands in the air. “Now, turn around.”
Texanna drew a bead on Bass with the Winchester. She was shaking so hard, the words came out in a stutter. “Drop…the gun, Mister.”
The robber swung the gun her direction and without thinking, she shot him in the arm. The gun dropped from his hand and slid across the floor. The robber at the door fired, forcing her to hit the floor. Before his bullet hit the wall above her head, the outlaw was down from an outside bullet.
On her knees, she crawled into the upper floor office facing the front of the bank. She positioned herself at the open window and kept her eyes on anyone at Royce’s back. His men were placed along both sides of Fourth Street across Austin Avenue from the bank. Shots came from each side of Fourth Street. It paralleled the bank, so she couldn’t see how many robbers there were. With all the shots, it had to be more than four.
Royce was positioned behind a water trough in front of the barbershop directly across from the bank. Pete was a yard back and partially hidden behind a stack of wooden storage boxes. Jason was across the side street, lying flat in the bed of a buckboard.
Texanna heard cries of pain and realized two of the robbers on the street beside the bank had been shot. She’d started to relax some when she noticed a gun rise from behind the buckboard where Jason hid. The man rose until she saw it was Ross. Her heart stopped. Ross was the murderer. The young man looked toward Royce, and Texanna stood and screamed. “Royce, behind you!” The words were no sooner out of her mouth when Bull Tate stepped from the alley behind the McLelland Hotel and aimed his pistol at her. Gunfire exploded. Pain ripped through her shoulder, knocking her backwards. Her legs crumbled beneath her, and the world went black.
Royce had heard Texanna scream, but he couldn’t see her. He’d swung at her warning and seen Bull step from the alley and fire spurt from his gun, but he wasn’t hit. Evidently Ross had seen him at the same time, and they both had opened fire on the big man. The gun smoke was settling as Pete and Jason checked the bodies.
He turned to Ross. “What are you doing here?”
Ross shrugged. “I saw the trouble and thought I’d give you a hand.”
“Thanks. I appreciate it.” Royce looked around him and toward the bank. “Did you hear a woman yell?”
“Yeah, I did. She said, ‘Royce, behind you.” That’s when I turned and saw Bull.”
Oh, God. Texanna had been here. Royce hadn’t dreamed her voice. Where the hell was she now? He ran toward the bank and stopped at the sight of Herschel’s prisoner. “How’d you catch him?”
Herschel nodded toward the second story. “Someone shot his gun arm before he could shoot me.”
Fear curled in Royce’s belly. He bellowed. “Texanna! Where the hell are you?” Alarm and dread sent him racing inside and up the stairs. Jason was close behind him. “Dammit, Texanna, answer me!” Panic quivered in every cell of his body. On the second floor, all the doors were closed except one. With long angry strides, he charged into the room and stopped. Texanna lay on her back in the floor. The left shoulder of the duster she wore was covered with blood and it pooled onto the floor, forming a puddle beneath her. Royce fell to his knees and drew her into his arms. A howl of pain and rage rose from his chest. “No, God, please noooo.”
Royce held Texanna in his arms, rocking back and forth, sobs shaking his body.
Jason’s eyes never left Royce and mirrored the terror Royce felt. He yelled down the stairs, “Get Doc. Make it fast.”
Jason knelt and pulled a clean handkerchief from his pocket. “Here, Royce. Hold this on the wound to stop the bleeding.” Royce nodded and held the cloth in place. “Doc will be here in just a minute.”
Just as he finished talking, Doc walked through the door. He kneeled beside Royce. “You know I’ve got to check the wound.” Royce nodded and gently leaned Texanna back across his arm. Doc tore Texanna’s blouse and gently probed the wound. “I’m sorry, son, but she’s going to need surgery.”
Royce’s face was gray. Jason reached for Texanna. “You look like you’re about to fall over any minute. Here, let me carry her to Doc’s office for you.”
“She’s my wife. I’ll carry her,” Royce growled.
“Can I do anything to help?”
Royce looked back at the window. His voice broke. “Get the Winchester.”
Half the town stood in the street and watched quietly as Royce carried Texanna to Doc’s office. Women wept and wrung their hands, and men shook their heads in dismay. Jason stopped beside Pete. “Would you ride out to Matthew’s and tell him he’s needed?”r />
“Sure thing. On the way back I’ll stop and take care of the evening chores at Royce’s.”
Jason clasped Pete’s shoulder. “Thank you. Please, while you’re out there stop at Aggie’s and check on Garrett.”
“I’ll do it.”
****
Danielle stood on the landing as Judge Stokes, her father, came through the front door. Tonight, his shoulders sagged with fatigue and when he removed his hat, she saw lines of worry etched his face. She lifted the hem of her green and black striped gown and walked down the stairs. “Here, Papa, let me assist you.” She helped him ease out of his jacket and hung it on the rung beside his hat.
“Thank you, dear.” He turned and kissed her cheek. “You look lovely this evening. Another new gown?”
Yes, it was but she didn’t want to talk about clothes. “Is it true, Papa? Is the marshal’s wife near death?”
“Yes, dear, I’m sorry to say she is. Such a tragedy. That a woman in this town could be gunned down in a robbery attempt is beyond considering. Of course, if she’d been at home where she belonged, it wouldn’t have happened. But then, gossip about town said the marshal would have been killed if she’d been at home.”
“Well, from what I heard, she got what she deserved. The very idea, dressing up like a man.”
His jaw dropped. “I didn’t raise you to have such unchristian thoughts, young woman. Your remark was callous.”
Tears pooled in her eyes, she worried her bottom lip. “I can’t help it…Royce was supposed to marry me.” Her hand played with the locket around her neck. “Especially this time. You know he was about to court me…”
His eyes left her face and landed on the necklace she fingered. “Lord forgive me for spoiling you so. You’ve grown into a spiteful, insensible woman. I’m ashamed of how poor a job I’ve done raising you after your mother’s death.”
“How can you say that about me?” The old man was a fool. She was only protecting what was rightfully hers.
“Give me the locket, Danielle.”
“What…why?” She backed away from him.
“You know why. It’s not yours. It belongs to Texanna Dyson.”
Her laugh turned into a horrible shrill chortle but she didn’t care. “That bitch won’t need it anymore. She’s dying and I’m glad.” She clutched the locket. “The whore ruined my life and she owes—”
His hand caught her on the cheek sending her flying into the wall. Her head bounced, and she slid to the floor. It was the first time he’d ever raised a hand to her. Maybe she’d gone too far this time.
He shook his head. “Dear God, I fear it’s too late to save your evil soul.”
****
Royce sat in a chair by the bed where Texanna lay, still asleep from the gas Doc had given her for the surgery. His white shirt was covered with Texanna’s dried blood. It sickened him, and, with a yank, he sent buttons flying around the room. Standing, he tore the shirt off and stuffed it in the trash can beside the door. He sat back down, stroked Texanna’s hand and kissed the palm, noticing its unnatural coolness due to her blood loss. Matthew sat on the other side of the bed watching him, always there to help him if needed. Royce shook with the need to weep and howl like the wounded animal he was. Why did God give such love and joy and then take it?
His eyes were dry and hurt as if they were being sucked from their sockets. He was about to get up and find water to soothe them when Doc came back in the room and handed him a wet cloth.
“Lay this over your eyes. It’ll help a little.”
“Thanks.” Royce slid down in the chair, laid his head back, and covered his eyes with the damp rag.
Doc pulled a chair up beside him and sat down. “I’m going to be straight with you, Royce. She’s bad. The bullet hit the bone near the joint and damaged a lot of tissue. If she lives, she may not have full use of her arm. She’s lost a lot of blood, but if fever doesn’t set in, she may be able to overcome that. We should know something by tomorrow morning.”
At Doc’s first words, Royce froze, not ready for the rest he knew were coming. He couldn’t look at the man, just squeezed his eyes tight behind the cool linen to stem the fresh flow of tears. Oh, God, no. Please don’t take her from me. Haven’t I suffered enough? He sat forward and dropped his head into his hands. The wet rag fell unnoticed to the floor.
Doc cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, son. I wish I could do more.”
Chapter Twenty
Matthew moved his chair around the bed. His brother’s big hand moved over Royce’s back, kneading the muscles. “Don’t give up, brother. Miracles do happen.”
Royce nodded. Tears clogged his throat. If he spoke, he’d lose all control. He had to be strong for Texanna and for Garrett. Oh God, Garrett. What would he tell the boy if Texanna didn’t make it? His body shook as he struggled to hold his agony inside.
He lifted his head and turned to Matthew. His voice was hoarse and foreign to his ears. “Where’s Garrett?”
“He’s at Aggie’s. I’ll pick him up and take him home with me in the morning.”
“If…if she’s not better in the morning, I want Garrett here.” His voice cracked. “To say…goodbye.”
Matthew’s eyes were filled with worry. He nodded. “We’ll have him here.” Royce stood and embraced the man who’d been with him through every tragedy and celebration of his life. They clung to each other for a moment then Matthew squeezed his neck and stepped back. “I’ll be outside with Doc if you need me.”
Doc brought warm wash water. Dressed in a clean shirt, Royce pulled off his boots, cautiously climbed onto the bed, and lay facing Texanna. He curled his arm over the top of her head, being careful not to jostle her injured arm, and breathed in the scent of her hair. His other hand touched her waist and stroked her ribcage. “Please, honey, don’t leave me. I need you so.”
Texanna’s mouth was dry, and a deep throbbing echoed in her left shoulder. She felt Royce’s presence next to her, smiled, and moved to turn toward him. Searing pain tore through her shoulder, and she cried out. “Hurt…Royce…hurt.”
“Be still, love. You’ve been shot.” He kissed her forehead. “Let me get Doc. He’ll give you something for the pain.” She heard his stocking feet pad across the wood floor.
The pain built, and she tossed her head from side to side. “Oh God! Please make it stop.”
He kissed her, and she tasted his tears on her lips. “Doc’s coming. Breathe slow and deep.” He brushed the hair back from her forehead. “I love you so much, Texanna.”
“Royce…happiest month of my life.” She curled her good hand in his hair and drew his lips back to hers. “My husband, my wonderful husband.”
The door opened and Doc, Matthew, and Jason came into the room. She tried to smile for them, but the pain was splitting her wide open. She started at the sight of the large syringe Doc carried. Dang, it looked like something you’d use to oil a car. She closed her eyes and waited for the painful stick. As the medicine entered her bloodstream, the room began to spin and fade.
“Love you Royce. Love you forever. Garrett. Want to see Garrett.”
Royce sat or lay beside her all night long. She woke again twice, and Doc gave her another shot. While awake, she continued to ask for Garrett. Royce knew she believed she wouldn’t make it and wanted to say goodbye to the boy.
Four years ago, when Pearl disappeared, Royce thought he’d die with grief. Now, watching Texanna suffer and knowing she wouldn’t make it, he knew what death felt like. His heart was a stone in his chest. Its weight was hard to carry and threatened to choke him.
Matthew brought him breakfast before leaving for home. Royce tried to eat, but the food wouldn’t go down. Coffee was the only thing he could tolerate.
Royce stroked Texanna’s hand. Her skin was soft and warm—too warm. Early this morning she’d developed a fever. They’d sponged her every hour, but it continued to rise.
Later that morning, Matthew and Jason came in with Garrett. Garrett rushe
d to his father’s side, and his eyes pleaded with him to deny what Matthew had told him. Royce gathered him close and let the boy’s tears mingle with his own.
“Why, Pa, why?” Royce held him until he could regain his control and speak.
“You remember when Texanna told you her neighbor Pearl, your real mother, sent her here for a purpose?” Garrett nodded. “She came to save me from getting killed in that bank robbery yesterday. Bull Tate found a way to hurt me worse than if he’d killed me. He shot Texanna.”
They looked at the bed to see Texanna watching them. She tried to smile and winced but held out her hand to Garrett. Garrett grasped it, and she pulled him closer. “I love you, Garrett.” Her lips trembled, and she shuddered. “You’re the son…I’ve always wanted.”
He laid his head on her stomach and sobbed. “Don’t leave me, please don’t leave me.”
She laid her hand on his hair. Every word was an effort as she spoke. “I want to stay…watch you grow to be a man, but…I can’t.” She cupped his cheek. “I need…promise me.” Texanna’s eyes found Royce’s as she stroked Garrett’s hair. “Listen to your father.”
Royce put his hand on Garrett’s back and rubbed gently. “Texanna came to us to deliver a message from your ma, because the history books say you died robbing a train when you were eighteen-years-old.”
Garrett straightened. “I wouldn’t never rob a train.” His expression was indignant and drew a chuckle from the adults in the room.
“Maybe not, Son. But sometimes when we’ve lost people we love, we forget our upbringing and do stupid things.”
Garrett looked back at Texanna and squeezed her hand. “I promise, I won’t do nothing stupid.”
She brought his hand to her lips, kissed it and then laid it against her cheek. “I love you so much…as does everyone…here. When you hurt…or feel lost, find them…” Her hand knotted in the sheet and she gasped. “They…will help…you.”
My Heart Will Find Yours Page 22