The Cowboy Who Came Calling

by Linda Broday

  “Charlie has his bullets aimed in the wrong direction. He’s no murderer.”

  “I agree.” Hope’s voice came softly. “A little bit farther, and there’s a step from the walk to the street. Here’s my hand in case you need it.”

  “Thank you, but I can manage.” She hoped, grateful that faint shapes and blurs hadn’t fled along with the rest of her sight. But she feared that soon they too would leave and plunge her into a bottomless pit. She’d have no choice in the matter.

  A glacier slid down her spine and into her shoes. How would a life of darkness be? And when she had no one…?

  “It doesn’t look good for Mr. Luke. I wish Charlie hadn’t seen him leaving the old woman’s house. Step down now. And do hurry—there’s quite a crowd at the emporium.”

  “I don’t like this.” The turbulence charging the air chilled Glory’s blood. This was something that ate from the inside out, a hate she’d witnessed firsthand during her father’s trial.

  * * *

  Luke and Soldier rode as one with a single purpose. He’d settle one final score and then…then he’d make certain never to bother the golden-haired beauty again. Tightness in his chest grew and traveled to points south. She appeared to be lodged in his thoughts, and he didn’t see any way of getting her out—should he even have a choice in the matter.

  “Soldier, I hear a man can get lost down south of the border. Rancho Del Norte should be far enough, I figure.”

  Trouble would have to cut a mean trail to find him there. He unscrewed the top of the canteen, took a swig of water, and scanned the brush for his quarry.

  Where had the slippery, murdering scum gone?

  If he hadn’t lost his two-fingered grip on the man’s shirt, he’d have caught the fellow who’d hanged a pitiful old woman.

  Much had happened since the morning he left the Day farm.

  “A feller named Foster gave me twenty dollars to say I saw Jack Day rob that bank,” Penelope Tucker had confessed three days ago. “Then he told me to keep my mouth shut. I did. Till now. Cain’t live with the guilt of what I done, sending an innocent man to the calaboose. I’m not a spring chicken, you know. Reckon I’d like to clear the slate before I get called.”

  Luke left that day not dreaming they’d take her life before he returned. He’d ridden to Abilene intending to get the U.S. Marshal to come verify her claims. A day late and a dollar short on that account.

  “Ambushed and kilt,” a man told him of the marshal’s fate.

  Telegraphing for help left him the last card to play. But that, too, had been for naught. Someone had silenced Penelope Tucker by the time he returned. What had been the good of his efforts? The word of a nobody meant nothing.

  Now he had no choice but to find the man who had murdered Perkins. “Can’t believe I let the scoundrel get away.”

  Soldier perked his ears and bit off some buffalo grass. Good thing the stuff didn’t need any water or it’d die right along with the other vegetation. Even the weeds seemed hard put to survive.

  “I’m not giving up, you hear?” he yelled in frustration. “Better pick a big rock ’cause I aim to find you.”

  Heaven help him, he’d get Jack Day out one way or another. With blindness robbing Glory of the means to provide, Luke couldn’t waste any time.

  And since she wouldn’t marry him…

  Damn! But oh, what sweet lips.

  Thinking of her sultry gaze raised gooseflesh the size of nickels. Such daydreams should be a sin, plain and simple.

  On second thought, he reckoned they were.

  * * *

  Glory and Hope edged near the loud group in front of Harvey’s. She yearned to block the ache in her breast and the hate she’d already heard.

  “I say we form a posse. Run that no-good stranger to ground.”

  “Shoot fire, we cain’t form a posse, don’t have a sheriff.”

  Outrage burned in the back of Glory’s throat. An angry mob was a fearsome thing. She groped until she found Hope’s sweaty palm and held tight.

  “All the more reason to form a citizen’s brigade,” came a surly roar from J. R. Fieldings. “Count me in.”

  “And me.”

  “I will.”

  Calm accented her uncle’s voice. “Do you suppose we oughta see what the feller has to say first?”

  Glory silently applauded.

  “Oh, go fly your kite, Pete Harvey,” the banker scoffed.

  “Yeah, leave men’s work to us. I think a bullet is all we need to wait for,” Joseph Starkweather put in.

  “Nah, waste of good lead. Get a stout rope like the one he strung around old Penelope’s windpipe.”

  “Oh dear,” Hope murmured. “I can’t bear this. Let’s get Mama and Patience and go home.”

  They had barely moved an inch when a volley of shots erupted. Hope shrieked, pulling Glory into a crouch.

  “What is it? What’s happening now?”

  Dear Mother Mary, she wished she could see!

  “Break it up. This meeting’s adjourned.”

  She couldn’t recollect the deep drawl or the steely warning that momentarily quieted the noisy rabble.

  “On whose authority?”

  “You folks need some persuading?” the mystery man replied. “I can just as easy put some bullet holes into a few of you.”

  “Who are you, mister?” Uncle Pete asked.

  “Captain Dan W. Roberts, Texas Ranger.”

  Texas Ranger? Had he come to arrest Luke?

  Fieldings hollered, “We’ve had a woman murdered. Is a little justice too much to ask?”

  “More like vigilantes to me. Go about your business and let me do my job.”

  Good advice. She hoped the captain could restore calm and order, but when a town had a powder-keg frame of mind, the likelihood remained slim. Especially if this captain meant to bring more harm to Luke. The Rangers hadn’t given him much of a chance before and most likely wouldn’t now. Even while she hungered for his touch and couldn’t bring herself to think about him leaving for good, she prayed he stayed far, far away. Out of the clutches of Santa Anna’s upstanding and Captain Roberts.

  * * *

  “My stars, the entire town’s in a fine uproar,” Dorothy Harvey was spouting when they made their way inside. “Who would’ve thought that handsome young man had murderin’ in him?”

  “We don’t know he killed anyone.” Defending Luke came automatically. Glory fumbled for the wooden stool Hope brought.

  “That’s right, Apple Dumpling. Judge not ye lest ye be judged.”

  “What do you know about scripture quotin’, Pete Harvey? Reckon you don’t darken the church doors except for marrying and buryin’s.” Aunt Dorothy launched into a fit of harrumphing.

  Glory smiled at their good-natured bickering. Her mama and papa used to do the same. Despite the hard twinge such memories brought, she welcomed the warmth.

  “A man don’t have to let a preacher put ’im to sleep to get religion,” Uncle Pete said in his defense. “I have a sight mor’n some.”

  “Shush, you old galoot.”

  “Better watch it, Sugar. You know how frisky name callin’ makes me.”

  “Pete, there’s children here!”

  “About time they learned something.”

  The bell over the door tinkled, interrupting the exchange. Though Glory had no reason, she suddenly shivered.

  “Can I help you, Captain?” Aunt Dorothy asked.

  That could only mean Captain as in Roberts.

  “I’m looking for a man named McClain. Luke McClain.”

  Nineteen

  A dousing of ice water couldn’t have made her colder than the Ranger’s statement. Glory tried to swallow. Nothing got past the grim dread blocking her throat.

  “Last saw him three or four da
ys back, Captain. My sister-in-law and her two daughters here might tell you more on account of he stays with them occasionally,” Aunt Dorothy supplied.

  “Why are you looking for him?” Glory blurted the question through stiff lips.

  “Sorry, miss, but I really can’t tell you. Now, is there any truth to McClain frequenting your home?”

  “He’s shown us extreme generosity with my Jack away.” The cultured voice belonged to her mother. “We hold that man in the highest regard. I won’t abide a slanderous word, understand?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  A sound she couldn’t quite place filled the store. Tilting her head slightly, she determined it came from the Ranger. Something striking against an object.

  “For God’s sake, Ruth. Far as we know, he ain’t trying to accuse the feller of nothing. Are you, Roberts?” Uncle Pete asked.

  “Not yet.”

  “We haven’t seen him.” Nor would Glory tell if she had. She adjusted her hat.

  Though it galled to owe the man, and he made her so mad she saw crooked, she’d not offer him up as a sacrificial lamb. The debt she owed amounted to much more than dollars and cents. No amount of money could ever repay him for giving her a brief taste of things other young girls took for granted. Of letting her know how nice kissing felt, how her insides melted. And of the special quiver his mere presence brought. To her those things were worth a king’s ransom.

  “It’s imperative I find him, miss. Or maybe you’d rather the group outside get him first.”

  Glory wavered. The man made sense.

  Silent until now, Hope spoke up. “Luke spent the night in our barn Monday. He left by the time we woke the next morning. None of us have a clue where he went. That’s the honest truth.”

  “Thank you, ladies, for your cooperation.” The loud noise Glory recognized was leather slapping together. Probably gloves of some sort. Gauntlets maybe? “I intend to be in and out of Santa Anna should you remember anything else…or happen to see him. I bid you all good day.”

  By the time the bell announced the Ranger’s leaving, her frayed nerves had come within an inch of snapping. She prayed they hadn’t made things worse.

  “Girls, I’m getting tired,” Ruth declared. “Find your baby sister and let’s go home.”

  “I’ll get her, Mama,” Hope said. “Be back in a minute.”

  The shadow Glory knew as Hope had no more disappeared when she felt someone tap her shoulder. She turned toward the source, not distinguishing the form.

  “Can I talk to you a minute, girl?” Uncle Pete whispered in her ear.

  She slid off the stool and followed the footsteps. “What is it, Uncle Pete?”

  “Didn’t want to spill this in front of the rest. Sam Sixkiller told me your feller got in a scuffle with a guy named Foster over at the Oak Vale stage stop.”

  “McClain?” She didn’t like the way her stomach flopped. More suspicion. A bigger wall of doubt. “When?”

  “Day before yesterday.”

  Dear Mother Mary! A troubling stillness murmured that it had to do with the stage robbery. Or similar mayhem. Though she immediately ruled out Luke’s involvement in Mrs. Tucker’s murder. Whatever else, the man wasn’t the cold-blooded, heartless kind. Still, she couldn’t totally erase his sudden reversal of fortune. Too much money too fast.

  Her uncle wasn’t finished. “Also been meaning to mention I saw McClain riding from your house last week. Now that I recollect, it was the morning of those last stage holdups. Didn’t see fit to share his destination, but he appeared to tote a powerful heavy load. Just thought you oughta know.”

  A fit of nausea rose. “I appreciate it.” Whatever it meant probably didn’t pertain to the good variety. Damn her luck to hell and back! All these years of waiting for kissing and romancing only to find her Prince Charming may have tarnished the princely part.

  “Glory, girl, when did this other problem come on you?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “You can’t see the hand in front of your face, that’s what.”

  Hell’s bells! Her playacting skills must sorely need improvement.

  “No need for the whole wide world to know. Hope…and one other person are all I’ve told. How did you figure it out?”

  “Didn’t take no brains. You can’t fool your old uncle.” His hug relayed deep affection. “You and I know a little secret—that there’s ways of seeing without looking through your eyeballs. We see things no one else does—we see with our hearts.”

  “Oh, Uncle Pete.” She laid her head on his chest to hide the tremor of her chin. “I miss my papa.”

  “So true, girl. But I’m gonna shoulder some of the burden. The world is a lonely place when you’re by yourself.”

  “You won’t tell anyone else, will you?”

  “They’ll discover it eventually. You can’t hide it.”

  Glory stepped from the comforting circle. “Just a little longer.”

  What sounded like wood scraping against the floor aroused her curiosity but she kept silent.

  Uncle Pete placed a smooth walking stick in her hands. “Take this.”

  Dear heavens, no one but toothless old men and crotchety old ladies used such. She supposed virtue must come before pride, however. And if it staved off the inevitable a few more days, so be it. She’d have to become a better actress though.

  “Put it out in front of you when you walk and you can find what’s ahead. Keep you from falling and breaking your noggin.”

  “Won’t it draw more attention to my problem?”

  “Nah, just tell ’em you turned your ankle.”

  She didn’t have the heart to debate the major differences between leaning on the stick to take the weight off a limb and wielding it as some sort of pointer. He wanted to feel useful.

  “But I can’t pay you.”

  “My gift.” He cleared his throat. “Shoulda paid more attention to family ’stead of hunting for buried treasure.”

  “Stop it. I won’t have you apologizing for being who you are and doing what you love. You’re a rare jewel. Besides, you have always been near whenever we needed you.”

  “But I hafta do more. Bless your heart, you can’t take care of Ruth and your sisters now that you can’t see. You’ll need help.”

  “I’ll manage; don’t worry. It’s simply a matter of setting my mind to it.” She’d never admit the task ahead broke her out in a cold sweat. She prayed for courage and stubborn will.

  He leaned to whisper in her ear. “Your ma is up range without a horse. How long’s she been like this?”

  Glory took it he meant Ruth’s wandering mind. “Awhile.”

  “Think it’s a tad too much laudanum?”

  “What are you talking about? Mama don’t…” Her voice trailed. That could certainly explain things. “Uncle Pete, if you know anything, tell me.”

  “Thought I was helping her. Dorothy, me, and you girls are all Ruth’s got. For months, I kinda been giving her bottles of the stuff. Only now she’s drinking it faster’n I can say ‘lickety split.’”

  “You only did what you thought right. I don’t fault you for that. But please don’t give her more until I can ask Dr. Dalton.”

  “Wisht I’d knowed. Gave her a fresh bottle today. Could kick myself all over Georgia and into Mississippi.”

  “Don’t worry. Hope and I will try to watch her.”

  The words came before she thought. Not very likely she could keep an eye on things. She’d have to get accustomed to life as it was and not as she wished it. If only she could. One thing about it—good, bad, or indifferent, changes came whether you whistled for them or not.

  The door jangled the bell again and she cursed her shortcoming.

  “Patience is waiting for us in the wagon,” Hope called.

 
Glory gave the man a reassuring squeeze. “Thank you for telling me about Mama. I’ll treasure the walking stick.”

  “Reckon I’ll come calling in a day or so.” He gave her a peck on the forehead. “Hold down the fort till I get there.”

  “Sure will.” She moved cautiously toward the sunlight.

  “Wait a minute, Ruth.” Dorothy’s heels clicked on the floor. “There’s a letter from Jack.”

  “I’ll bet he’s coming home. I just know it.”

  Ruth’s excitement colored the shadows about her a darker black. Glory thanked Providence that Caesar knew the way home. She untied him and climbed up, wondering how to break more complications to Hope.

  Loud sniffling came from the bed of the wagon. Patience? The logical choice since she knew Hope and Mama sat on the seat beside her. Probably pouting again. She flicked the reins and they began their trip back to the farm.

  “Patience, baby, what’s wrong?” Ruth must have turned, because she exclaimed, “Oh, dear God, look at your face! Who did this?”

  “No one.” Patience seemed sullen and withdrawn, not at all her usual talkative self.

  “Hope? Where did you find her? Do you know anything?”

  “No, Mama. I saw her coming alone from behind the livery. She wouldn’t tell me how she got a bloodied nose.”

  Unless Glory was ready to tell her mother about the vision loss, she had to wait until she could get Hope alone. Though the children in town showed a mean streak from time to time, they’d never actually harmed Patience.

  She flicked the reins again. “Get on, you pokey old beast!”

  No use. The mule continued at his sedate pace. Damnation, they should’ve stayed home today.

  “Baby, tell me what happened this instant and who to blame.”

  “It’s nothing, Mama. I fell, all right?”

  “I’ll put some liniment on your face the moment we get back.”

  The sniffs appeared to quiet a bit.

  “Mama, I tore my dress. Are you mad?”

  “Don’t worry, dearest. Hope can fix that. You know how handy she is with a needle and thread.”

  Silence, broken only by Caesar’s snorts and the familiar creak of the wagon, lasted until they reached home. The seat shifted when Hope and Mama climbed down.