The Heart of a Texas Cowboy

by Linda Broday

  He rounded a bend and emerged from the small canyon into a little clearing. A dark splotch lay on the ground in front of him. A large animal of some kind? He couldn’t tell but he needed to approach with caution. A wounded animal could be very dangerous.

  “Whoa, boy.” Houston swung down. Gripping his Colt, he crept forward.

  As he neared the dark shape he could tell it wasn’t an animal at all, but a man lying facedown. Houston turned him over and found the face of the missing drover staring at him. His hands and feet were bound and caked blood had formed around a hole in his forehead. Someone had shot Emmett between the eyes.

  Someone had executed him.

  Pain and rage ricocheted through Houston. He rocked back on his heels. Emmett had worked for the Lone Star for ten years and given the Legends everything he had. The middle-aged, crusty cowboy had loved everything about riding the range.

  A thin cigarette paper sticking from Emmett’s pocket caught his eye. Houston reached for it and read the words someone had scrawled.

  One a day.

  No one had to tell him who’d written the note. He stuffed the warning inside his vest then hoisted Emmett onto his shoulders. He eased the faithful employee across the horse’s rump and began the arduous trek back. His mind churned. He had to stop Blackstone. And he had to do it before those expected reinforcements finally caught up, which they would eventually.

  How was he supposed to keep driving the cattle, protect the men, shield his family, and go on the offensive?

  He needed more help, more men. But from where?

  Stoker’s voice echoed in his head. When trouble comes, stand proud. Remember you’re a Legend. You carry the blood of generations of fighting men who don’t know the word quit.

  Damn it to hell if his pa wasn’t right!

  A Legend could handle a bunch of ruthless outlaws. He’d still be standing when the dust cleared. Blackstone had better find a hole, because he was coming for him, and this was Houston Legend’s fight to win.

  Twenty-six

  Houston faced a somber group of men when he walked back with Emmett’s body. Pony Latham came to meet him first. “What are we gonna do?”

  “Are we gonna sit here and wait for the bastards to pick us off one by one?” Joe’s angry voice blended with the murmuring dissent around him. “Emmett was our friend…my friend.”

  Houston watched his deeply shaken crew. Their questions were ones he’d asked himself.

  Clay answered, “He was a friend to all of us. Emmett will be missed, no doubt about it. We ain’t gonna sit idle and wait.”

  “Nope.” Houston squeezed Joe’s shoulder. “Let’s get Emmett in the ground and then we’ll plan. This hurts like hell, but we’re not whipped. We’re going to be a whole lot smarter and twice as cunning from now on. I assure you, his death won’t go unpunished.” Though he didn’t know how they were going to do it yet, surely they could rid themselves of two ruthless outlaws bent on murder and revenge.

  “Damn right,” Pony spat.

  As a rosy dawn broke, someone brought out a shovel. Each man took his turn digging in the muddy earth. When the grave was deep enough, they wrapped Emmett in a blanket and laid him into the hole. Joe brought out his harmonica and played an old hymn. Houston stood at the head of the grave and said a few words.

  He felt as old as Stoker standing there. He forced strength he didn’t feel into his voice and the only Bible passage he knew rang out across the desolate prairie. He kept his words brief out of a need to get moving.

  While the men filled in the hole, Houston walked Lara to the chuck wagon. He was glad for a private moment. His arm tightened around her waist. “Do you have that gun handy?”

  She glanced up. A tear poised on the tip of a long lash. “Yes and I’ll use it. Don’t you worry.”

  The brittle hardness of her tone was new, and it hurt him to hear. He’d never wanted her to feel unsafe, and yet he’d put her in this situation.

  He kissed her upturned mouth. “In a fight, people often get separated and I may not always be able to protect you.” That constant fear had paralyzed him and kept him awake.

  Lara rested her small palm on his leather vest. “I want to take that worry from you if I can. I’ll kill to protect myself and my family. Yuma has taken all from me he’s going to. Each one of these drovers is my family now too. I remember how tenderly Emmett held Gracie, as though she was his child. He was a sweet, kind man and I’ll miss him. Trust me, I’ll fight.”

  Houston brushed the pad of his finger along her scarred cheek, unfazed by the raised flesh. “How did I get so lucky? You’re everything I ever dreamed of finding in a woman.”

  “And I in a man,” she said softly. “When all this is over and we reach Dodge City, let’s do something special. Just you and me. I think I know just what.”

  “That’s a deal. Want to share what you’re thinking?” He nibbled her enticing lips.

  “Nope.”

  “Will I like it?”

  “I daresay you will.” A smile teased her mouth. “You’ll just have to wait.”

  “I have plans of my own for you, Mrs. Legend.” Lots of plans. He’d make her happy if it took a lifetime. “Just keep thinking about our future when you want to give up. Believe me, this fight is going to get very ugly before it’s over.”

  “You’re right. I can’t help but wonder how many will have to pay the ultimate price for protecting me.” Her quivering chin pierced Houston’s heart. He saw how desperately she tried to hold back her fear.

  He opened his arms and she walked into them. Drawing her close, he kissed her, taking comfort in the warmth that spread through him. He hoped she felt the same. At least a little.

  “Darlin’, the men are protecting each other, not just you. I wish I could make this trip easier, but I can’t control what will happen.” Only one thing would help…Blackstone’s death. Houston narrowed his gaze, staring toward the ravine where he’d found Emmett. “From now on, you’ll ride in front of the herd. Someone will be with you at all times. You’ll have to sacrifice a lot of your privacy, but I’d rather have you safe.”

  If only he could, he’d move heaven and earth to spare her more violence and worry. Lord knew, she’d had enough.

  “I told you at the outset that I wanted no special treatment.” She stepped from his arms. Putting her foot on the small step, she climbed up into the wagon box beside Henry and lifted the reins.

  “When you need to feed Gracie, let the drover or Henry drive,” Houston continued. “At night I can’t allow you to leave camp alone to take care of personal needs.” When she quickly opened her mouth to protest, he softened his tone and went on. “I’ll try to make sure I’m available. But if not, you’ll have to let someone else come with you. I’m sorry.”

  Though he saw a second of silent mutiny, she gave him a resolute smile and straightened her shoulders. “I understand. I’ll just have to get over my qualms.”

  “Wish you didn’t have to, darlin’, but I’m afraid it’s necessary for now. Go ahead and roll out. We’ll be behind you.”

  Henry waved excitedly as though leaving on a long ocean voyage. “Good-bye, Houston. I can drive good ’cause we’re fam’ly. If you need stuff fixed, I can do it.”

  “Bye, Bones. I know you can.” Houston watched them move forward only to stop and pick up Gracie from brother Quaid, then he strode to his top drover to relay new rules. The words one a day beat in his head like an Indian death drum.

  Clay glanced at Houston from beneath the brim of his weathered, sweat-stained hat. “Reckon you have a plan.”

  “I do.” Houston told him about putting the chuck wagon out front with a drover whose only job was to protect them.

  “Good idea. At least for now.” Clay thumbed back his hat. “Blackstone will just change tactics once he figures it out.”

  “Yep.” Th
en Houston gave the order for no one to leave camp alone. “When we’re with the herd at night, the men will ride in pairs. To help recognize each other in the dark, I’ll issue a password and countersign each morning. If anyone fails to answer with the correct word, I authorize the drover to shoot him. We won’t take any more chances. Keep the herd tight and don’t let any get away. If they do, don’t chase them down. Let them go. Understood?”

  “For sure. Can’t afford to let any drover ride alone after a cow an’ give the bastards an openin’ to gun him down.” The saddle leather creaked as Clay leaned forward. “I think we should expect Blackstone’s group to multiply any time now.”

  “I agree.” Houston let out a troubled sigh. At least he’d bought them a little extra time by burning the note and sending the bunch in a different direction. He only wished he knew their numbers. He prayed they were small.

  A glance at the Vincents’ wagon reminded Houston he needed to address that. Caroline was clinging to Nick. She was too young to have to manage a wagon and team by herself.

  “Clay, tell Nick to drive their wagon and to stay up front with Lara. We could use him to fill Emmett’s spot, but she needs him more.”

  “They’re so young.” Clay’s voice held a strange quality, as though he was talking about himself. “This unforgiving land makes people grow up too fast. I’ll tell ’em.” The drover sighed. “I’d best relay your orders so we can get these ornery dogies on down the trail a ways. We’re burning daylight.”

  Houston nodded. “Come nightfall, you and me are going to find the murdering bastard’s den.”

  “I’ll consider it an honor, boss.”

  “We’ll find them.” Houston mounted up and rode over to Virgil and Quaid, warning them to be extra careful. The last thing he needed was to have to take their corpses back to Till Boone. A shudder ran through him before he turned and galloped over to the remuda. The Appaloosa deserved a rest. He selected a palomino and switched his saddle.

  Houston glanced up from the cinch he was tightening. “How’s the little mare’s foot?” The animal had developed a limp the previous day.

  Pete, somewhere in his early twenties, met his gaze. “Doing fine. You got that rock out in time. I won’t let anyone ride her for another day or two to make sure.”

  “Appreciate the fine care you’re taking of the horses. I couldn’t ask for better.”

  The young man grinned. “Horses are my life. I hope to start a horse ranch one day.”

  Something about the love in the man’s voice and on his face as he talked about his dream made Houston’s throat tighten. Pete was going to go far…if he got a chance to grow up. Houston thought of Zeb Flanagan, dead before he even found out who he was. Maybe happiness was a way station between too much and too little. Only thing was…Zeb seemed like he’d always lived on the too-little end. Houston would try to see that Pete didn’t.

  “That’s a fine dream, Pete. Maybe with what you make on this trip, you can.” Houston tested the cinch and found it good. He stuck his foot in the stirrup and threw his leg over. “Trouble’s riding this way. Keep your eyes open and your .45 ready.”

  “Yes, boss, I will.”

  Houston rode away feeling guilty. He’d been wrong about trouble riding toward them—it was already there.

  “Take your one a day and shove it, Blackstone,” he growled into the wind. “I’m going to kill you. You’re as good as dead.”

  Twenty-seven

  Midafternoon, Lara spotted a prairie schooner tilting severely to one side straight ahead, with people standing near it and a tent stretched close by. Alarms sounded in her head.

  Pony Latham noticed it about the same time. “Hold up, Mrs. Legend. I’ll ride over and check it out. Might be a trap.”

  He might be right, although the group seemed to be mostly women and children. Who would cross Indian Territory with a bunch of small children if they didn’t have to? She glanced at Gracie in Henry’s arms and remembered how close she’d come to losing her daughter. But who was she to judge without knowing their circumstances? Maybe they hadn’t had a choice.

  Henry leaned forward with a frown. “Want I should get my rock?”

  “Certainly not. I don’t think these people mean us harm.”

  He shrugged. “Okay. Look at the butterfly, Gracie.”

  The child pointed, jabbering with excitement, seeming to have returned to normal, thanks to Dr. Mary.

  Nick and Caroline pulled up alongside. “Who are those people?” Nick asked.

  “I don’t know. Pony went to check them out. Told us to wait here,” Lara answered.

  Caroline craned her neck to see. “I’m so happy to find other women. They’ll give us someone new to talk to.”

  Lara stifled a laugh. Except for preparing the meals, the girl spent all her time in the wagon with her husband. She doubted having others around would make much difference.

  Pony had reached the travelers, and Lara stayed alert as he spoke with them. His relaxed body told her he didn’t see trouble. Soon he turned and rode back. In minutes, he pulled up beside Lara and wiped his face with a bandana.

  “Their wagon has a busted wheel, ma’am,” he said. “Boss will probably camp down where they are for the night so we can help ’em fix it, but I’m just guessing on that. Not my place to say.”

  “I’d say the same, Mr. Latham. My husband won’t leave anyone stranded out here.” Lara knew that much.

  Clay galloped up. “A problem, Latham?”

  Pony explained the situation. “We can’t very well leave ’em out here with those outlaws trailin’ us. Got a bunch of women and little kids.”

  “We’ll help ’em,” Clay said. “Go on down and start making camp. I’m sure Mrs. Legend and Caroline will welcome the company of other women for a spell.”

  That she would. “Thank you, Clay. I look forward to it.”

  As the head drover rode back to tell Houston, Lara released the brake and drove toward the stalled group. She hoped some of the women were her age. But on the other hand, maybe an older one would know the answer to a question that burned inside her. No matter their ages, they would be a welcome sight.

  A short while later, she found the perfect spot near a little stream of water and parked the wagon. Pony Latham went to join a man who sported a long, dark beard. Children ranging in age from about ten down to five ran over, asking Henry if he wanted to play hide and seek.

  “I have to work,” Henry said proudly, sticking out his chest. “But I can play for a few minutes. Okay, Lara?”

  “Go ahead. You’ve earned some fun.” Lara took Gracie and watched her brother scamper off with them. She knew how lonely he was both on the ranch and out here on the plains. He needed kids to play with. In size, the fourteen-year-old loomed over these small ones, but he matched them mentally, which was more important.

  One of the women wearing a prairie bonnet approached her and Caroline as they climbed from their wagons. “Hi, I’m Hannah. It’s nice that you folks came along.”

  Lara stuck out her hand and introduced herself. “I’m married to Houston Legend, the owner of those longhorns coming yonder. We’re headed to Dodge City to sell them.”

  Caroline did the same, adding that she was a newlywed. She appeared curious about the young woman who was clearly in the family way. “Is this your first, Hannah?”

  “It is and I’m very excited.” Hannah’s smile lit up her face. “Time seems to drag its heels, though. I’m getting impatient to have this babe.” She tickled Gracie under the chin and set off a round of giggles. “You have the prettiest little girl. Can I hold her?” she asked Lara.

  “She’s a tad on the rambunctious side, so be careful.” Lara handed the kicking child over. “Her name is Gracie. Do you have names picked out for yours yet?”

  “Hiram the fifth for a boy, because that’s my husband’s name, and Abig
ail for a girl.”

  “Good names. How much longer do you have?” Lara asked.

  “About four weeks.” Hannah drew some other women forward. “These are Martha, Sarah, and Ruth.”

  Lara found the women warm and friendly. The dark-haired Ruth appeared the oldest, judging by a few lines around her mouth. She carried a small toddler who looked to be about two or three years old. He buried his face against his mother.

  “What a handsome boy, Ruth. What’s his name?”

  “Hiram the fourth.” Ruth smoothed his dark hair. “I named him after his father.”

  Caroline asked to hold Hiram the fourth and hugged him to her, a dreamy look on her face.

  “But I thought… Hannah, aren’t you naming your child the same thing if it’s a boy?” Lara thought this was the oddest thing. Why would both use the same name? Maybe it was some kind of competition between them, or perhaps a long-standing joke of some sort. Yes, that must be it.

  Hannah jiggled Gracie. “Yes, I just love that name.”

  “I’m going to name our son Nick when he’s born.” Caroline put Ruth’s baby on her shoulder and patted little Hiram’s back, the dreamy expression still glued on. “I can’t wait to have a baby. Nick and I are trying very hard.”

  They certainly were. Lara would give them top marks for effort.

  Sarah came forward. “We’re so relieved you came along. We’ve been stuck here for three days. We saw some Indians in the distance but they didn’t approach us.”

  “I’m glad we can help. I just pray we don’t bring our trouble to you.” Lara explained about the men trailing behind, sparing them the details. That was Houston’s place and he may not want to frighten these women if the threat was over.

  Standing beside her, Caroline jostled little Hiram, who was grunting and squirming to get down. Everyone else could’ve vanished as far as the girl was concerned. She was dreaming of motherhood.

  Sarah pushed back a stray hair, tucking it inside her bonnet. “Thank goodness your men were able to send them running. We’ll warn Hiram.”