Chet shifted uncomfortably in the saddle. James’s little girl had gotten under his skin. First she surprised him with her age, next she shot a charging boar between the eyes without a flinch, and now she handled Dugan’s newly broke mare like she’d been born in the saddle. Why hadn’t he noticed these things before? It rightly embarrassed him. He needed to have shown a little more foresight or at least paid more attention to the Talbot household.
A Texas Ranger prided himself in his good judgment and intelligence. Many times he’d heard a good ranger needed to ride like a Mexican, trail like an Indian, shoot like a Tennessean, and fight like a devil. Nothing was ever said about sense with a woman. Good thing only the Lord knew his thoughts.
Ever since he learned about Serena’s age, being around her made him feel rather peculiar, and today he found himself admiring her spunk. Of course, being the only child of James Talbot meant she knew how to handle herself like a man. He should have figured that out when he noticed she refused to use a sidesaddle. Scary thought when Chet had already angered her the night before.
He glanced her way, not really meaning to, and she smiled back at him. Her innocent look made his toes numb, and a chill raced up his spine. He’d never reacted like this to anything in his whole life…until now.
How many times had he thanked God for giving him a steady hand and a clear head? He prayed every time a bullet or arrow whizzed by without so much as piercing his clothes. Those qualities, vital to a ranger’s way of life, kept him alive and able to defend his beloved Republic. In addition, he owed his life here and in eternity to the Lord. Jesus rode with him everywhere he went, guiding and giving him courage to complete the task of defending the people of Texas.
Chet prayed and studied God’s Word every day of his life. He’d learned life didn’t always happen like he figured, but he couldn’t dwell on it. A man had to wait until the smoke cleared and see how God worked. He’d learned to expect the impossible and not flinch when trouble came knocking. But nothing had prepared him for these new findings about Miss Serena Talbot. The little lady kept amazing him everywhere he turned.
God must be chastising him for his prideful talk when he hurt Serena’s feelings. Well, he’d never do it again. This strange feeling unnerved him.
“Pa, where are you headed tomorrow?” Serena asked, breaking the silence.
“Rio Grande,” he said with no emotion creasing his rugged, lined face.
“How long are you going to be gone?” She knew Mexico and Texas were in heavy dispute over the border. The Republic claimed the Rio Grande, but Mexico insisted on the Nueces River.
“Couple of weeks, Little One. I plan to be back for your birthday.”
Serena sighed. “It’s not my birthday bothering me.”
“I know.” He sounded tired.
“I’m not complaining, Pa. I just love you.”
Chet felt as though he shouldn’t be hearing James and Serena’s conversation. Rather too personal for his liking.
“Oh, if God would only let peace come to Texas,” she said with a sigh. “Can you imagine Indians, Mexicans, and Texans all getting along like friendly neighbors? I mean, I know the Tonkawas, Choctaws, and Delaware sometimes scout for you.”
Her pa nodded with a grim smile. “We’ve had some real good Mexicans help us out, too.”
“But I’m dreaming and talking like a child. As long as men walk the face of the earth, there will be war,” she said. “And I do respect your commitment to Texas.”
Her pa cleared his throat. “It doesn’t matter who’s threatening the lives of folks, they have to be stopped. If the Rangers don’t step in, the innocent will die.”
“I understand, Pa, I really do.” Serena said nothing for a few minutes, then asked, “Do you believe we’ll one day be a state?”
Her pa shook his head. “Hard to say. A lot of folks would like to think so.”
“What would happen to the Rangers then?” she asked.
He chuckled. “Chet, you answer that one.”
Serena turned in the saddle, her deep blue eyes penetrating his soul—trusting and seeking an answer.
Suddenly, Chet couldn’t remember his own name.
Chapter 4
James slowed his horse to keep pace with Chet. The older man peered into his face. “Didn’t you hear me?” he asked. Again, Chet felt color burn his skin. “Ah, I reckon my mind went to wandering.” Why did the cap’n have that angry glint in his eye?
James chewed on his lower lip, a sign indicating he contemplated a serious matter. “Serena wondered what might happen to the Rangers if Texas became a state.”
Chet swallowed. He sure didn’t like the hard look on James’s face. He must have riled him, except the cap’n didn’t get provoked too easily. “Hard to say,” Chet began, determined to give the popular subject his best. “Statehood might be fine enough, but I don’t think we’d get along with the army—have a hard enough time with the Republic’s army. Too many rituals and regulations for me. I don’t see any purpose in wearing uniforms or keeping my boots and buttons polished. And I couldn’t ever take orders from a man I hadn’t ridden with. Texas Rangers earn their rank by showing they have guts and use their heads. I can’t respect a man simply ’cause he wears a fancy uniform.”
Serena turned in the saddle to address him. The late morning sunlight fairly glistened in her dark hair, giving it a copper cast. “So do you think Texas could get along without the Rangers?”
“Texas will always need rangers,” he said, sitting straighter in the saddle. “I guarantee you the US Army or our Republic’s army would not consider any fighting without first sending us to clear the way.”
She smiled, and he noticed her sparkling white teeth. “Thank you, Chet. I agree with you. Nobody can keep us safe like the Rangers.” She reverted her gaze back to the path ahead, leaving him feeling plumb foolish. And he had no idea why.
“You and me need to talk,” the cap’n said under his breath. He spurred his horse forward to ride alongside his daughter, leaving Chet short of bewildered.
Serena wondered what she’d said to embarrass him. He looked akin to a ripe tomato. Then she had a thought. He must be sweet on Moira and seeing her must have gotten him flustered. Serena supposed it didn’t help matters any with her bold statement about him probably liking Moira. Her dear friend filled his requirements and looked comely, too.
Pa had picked up on Chet’s discomfort. Of course, Pa had a way of knowing what people were thinking long before they said a word.
A knot settled in Serena’s throat. If Chet had eyes for Moira, Serena might as well forget anything ever blossoming between them. Her sweet friend would make a good wife. But…Moira said Aaron Kent had come calling, and she’d rambled on and on about him. Surely she’d rather have Aaron than Chet. At least the widower didn’t live a dangerous life. Good thing she hadn’t shared her dreams with Moira, especially with Chet possibly interested in the pretty redhead.
Lord, help me not to be selfish and jealous. I know I’ve given this to You, but it doesn’t help this ache in my heart.
Maybe she did need to talk to Ma about Chet. Like Ma had said, some things only a woman understood.
By the time the three made it back to the cabin, Ma had a noonday meal almost ready for them. She’d pulled one of the hams from the smokehouse and cooked it with a bunch of fresh green beans. Ears of buttered corn boiled on the fire with a pan of corn bread baking beside the pot. Ma always cooked hearty meals when Pa came home.
Outside the barn, Ma admired Serena’s palomino. She patted the mare’s neck and let it nuzzle against her. “Beautiful horse. No wonder your pa had to have it for you. Have you a name for her yet?”
Truthfully, Serena had been thinking on it. “I like the name Fawn. The palomino’s color puts me in mind of a baby deer.”
“Sounds real fitting,” her ma replied, giving the mare another pat, “and I don’t recollect hearing a horse called by that name before.”
“Woul
d you like to go riding tomorrow evening?” Serena asked.
“Yes, I believe I would. Might be nice after your pa’s gone.”
Pa leaned up close to Ma and kissed her on the cheek. Tears welled in her pale blue eyes, a sadness seen much too often. Serena felt compassion wash over her. For a brief moment she asked herself if she really wanted the same heartache and separation in her life.
“Let me finish in the house,” Serena said, gathering up her skirt. “I’ve had Pa to myself all morning, and now it’s your turn.”
Pa took Fawn’s reins, and she left her parents to a few stolen moments alone. Chet tied his horse to a post and wordlessly followed Serena inside.
“Shall I tie an apron on you?” she teased. Odd, he looked uneasy. “Something ailing you, Chet?”
“No, nothing.” He looked like a bull calf at a quilting bee.
“Why don’t you sit down while I finish here?” She went about her business, trying to shake herself of his disturbing presence. What had happened to the free-talking ranger she’d known and grown to care about for the past two years?
Once Chet eased down onto a chair at the table and removed his hat, she ladled him a tall mug of water. He murmured his thanks and watched while she placed butter, dewberry preserves, and sliced tomatoes on the table. All the while, his piercing gaze increased her nervousness. While filling a huge bowl with the ham and green beans, she dropped a big wooden spoon on the floor. Snatching it up, she slammed the spoon on the table a little harder than she intended.
Exasperated, she began, “Chet Wilkinson, we’ve known each other for quite a spell, and you have never acted this way before. So why don’t you just tell me what’s wrong? Are you sick? Did you and Pa have words? Are you still mad about last night or me shootin’ the boar this morning?”
Chet raked his fingers through yellow hair. “You could pester a man to death with your questions.”
“Oh,” she said, raising a brow. “You certainly have gotten mean-spirited all of a sudden. I was only trying to help.”
He narrowed his pine green eyes and lifted the tin mug to his lips. In a huff, Serena covered the bowl of vegetables and ham with a clean towel and pulled out the plates and utensils. Realizing the corn must be ready on the cook fire, she grabbed another towel and bowl, then stormed outside.
What made her think Chet Wilkinson could possibly be the man God intended for her? The man had suddenly become intolerable and sullen. She didn’t need a moody man, leastways one who couldn’t answer a little question without getting sour as day-old milk.
She didn’t need him, and neither did Moira…or any sensible woman. And he claimed to be a God-fearing man. He needed to spend more time in his Bible and less time on himself.
“Miss Serena.”
She startled and dropped the towel, narrowly missing the fire. “That’s the second time today you’ve scared me,” she said, ready to take on the devil if necessary. Her gaze flew to his eyes, and she clearly met the contrite ranger. He held his dusty hat, toying with the brim and standing as though he’d been riding for a month without a stop. The pleading look in his eyes softened her…a little.
“I apologize for snapping at you. Don’t know what got into me, and…I didn’t mean to ruffle your feelings,” he said, then expelled a heavy breath.
Serena bit back a curt remark. Maybe he had the Rangers’ next job on his mind—or the one they’d just come from. Pa rarely talked about the perils and circumstances about his work, and sometimes he was short when he fretted over a matter.
God instructed her to forgive.
“It’s all right. You have your own feelings, and it’s none of my business anyway.” She bent to lift the kettle from the fire.
“I’m not used to women,” he continued and bent to help her.
Serena smiled. That word sounded better all the time.
“Haven’t seen my little sister or Ma in quite a spell. Guess I’m not used to y’all’s ways.”
She nodded. “I think we got along better when you considered me a little girl.”
His eyes brightened, and he took the kettle of corn from her. “Oh, but then I learned the truth and got into trouble.”
Serena laughed, and the two walked toward the cabin. “I’m glad you’re coming for my birthday.”
“I think I’d like it…very much. Will I get in the way of your friend?”
“Moira?” Serena’s heart suddenly plummeted.
“I didn’t remember her name, but you might prefer having her all to yourself.”
Her insides relaxed. “No, the more the better. In fact, Ma mentioned having all the Nialls come for supper. They’re a wonderful family who care about each other and love the Lord. Mrs. Niall visits a lot when Pa’s gone—makes Ma laugh and tells her stories about Ireland.”
“I reckon being the wife of a ranger is real hard,” he said. “Not too many women could handle it.”
“Depends,” Serena replied slowly, as a bushel of answers raced across her mind. “If a woman loves a man, she can’t be happy unless she’s a part of his life.”
He opened the cabin door. She turned to thank him, but his gaze peered into hers and sent an unsettling chill up her spine.
“Imagine you would know.” He hesitated, wetting his lips. “I mean, since your pa’s a ranger and all. You’d know what kind of woman it took to marry up with one.” His face reddened again, and she felt her own grow warm.
“I suppose,” she said, placing a jar of honey on the table. “I don’t know any other way.”
He cleared his throat. “Would you be interested in taking a walk this afternoon and leaving your ma and pa to some time alone? Your ma looked real upset when we left them out there.”
“I’d take kindly to your offer,” she said. “The river’s a nice cool spot.”
“And I haven’t been wading for fun in quite a spell.”
Silence permeated the room. Oh, Lord, are You making progress?
Standing in the small room, arranging the rest of the meal about the table, Serena felt Chet’s gaze studying her. Oh, for a woman’s figure. She didn’t relish the thought of Chet staring at a fence post. Her nose stuck out farther than her bosom.
She decided to sit across the table from him. With everything ready but the corn bread, they’d eat as soon as Ma and Pa came in from the barn. In the meantime, she had the handsome ranger all to herself.
Searching for a topic that steered away from her fragile emotions, she remembered he and Pa would be leaving in the morning.
“I’ll be praying for you and Pa’s trip to the Rio Grande,” she said, wishing her voice sounded stronger, more encouraging.
“Appreciate it,” he said and laid his hat on the floor beside him. “We need all the prayers we can get.”
Silence filled the corners of the cabin, and Serena wished she had something to do.
“Blueberries,” Chet said, breaking the quiet surrounding them.
She lifted a questioning brow. Did he have a hankering for berry pie?
“Your eyes,” he said, picking at a loose thread on the sleeve of his shirt, “are the color of ripe blueberries.”
Before Serena could respond, the sounds of Ma and Pa laughing met her ears. Her parents entered. Ma’s hair had slipped from her tightly wound bun, and her cheeks were rosy.
Pa’s wide smile quickly changed to a frown when he saw Chet and Serena seated at the table. “After we eat,” he said to Chet, “you and me are gonna have a long talk.”
Chapter 5
Chet had been hungry before James made his announcement, but his appetite soon disappeared. Second time today the cap’n announced a need for them to talk, which meant he planned to do the chewin’, and Chet would do the listenin’.
Now he sat across from the cap’n, who cut his gaze at him sharper than a bowie knife. He was in a fine pucker about something. He’d been around James Talbot long enough to recognize a bad mood.
Serena already made him feel peculiar, and with he
r sitting so close beside him, droplets of sweat rolled down his cheeks. Fortunately, Mrs. Wilkinson still acted normal, and she smiled comforting-like while passing him the corn bread. Every bite of food hung in his throat, worse than his own cooking. The meal seemed to take forever.
Awhile later, James cleared his throat, rattling Chet’s nerves. The cap’n stood and downed his coffee.
“Good food, Rachel,” he said with an appreciative nod. “Chet, you coming?”
“Yes, sir,” he replied, sliding off the other end of the bench he shared with Serena. “Thank you, ma’am, for a fine meal.”
Rachel smiled. “You’re welcome, but you didn’t eat much.”
Chet noted a glimpse of compassion in her eyes. She must know what had upset the cap’n. He stole a look at Serena. She looked as confused as he felt.
Outside, he fell into step beside the cap’n. “Don’t recollect what I did to anger you, but I reckon you’re about to tell me.”
“I am.” His tone reminded Chet of the many dismal times on the trail when they’d be riding into a dangerous situation against the odds.
They strode away from the cabin and toward a huge post oak shading a corner of the pasture. Chet had enough of waiting, but the Bible had a lot to say on patience. So he leaned against the tree, first kicking up a mound of fire ants and then daring to peer into James’s blue eyes, almost as intense as Serena’s.
“We’re leaving in the morning,” the cap’n said, standing square in front of him without a trace of friendliness. He looped his thumbs in the waist of his pants.
“Yes, sir.”
“And I want you to forget everything about Serena.”
Chet raised a brow. “Serena? What are you talking about?”
“Don’t be acting like you’ve lost your senses.”
Suddenly Chet felt anger race through him. “Well, maybe you ought to explain yourself, ’cause I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
James’s jaw tightened. “You’ve been looking at her all day like some moon-sick calf. And I’ve already told you that no ranger is going after my daughter.”
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