Give Me A Texas Ranger

by Jodi Thomas, Linda Broday, Phyliss Miranda

  McCord swore as Dirk lifted his shoulders off the buffalo hide.

  “Stop your complaining. I ain’t never said I was a nurse.”

  “That’s an understatement,” McCord managed as soon as the pain subsided enough for him to breathe. “Where is Anna?” Somewhere in his dreams he’d thought he heard someone ask her to dinner.

  “She went to tell the cook how to make broth for you. He sent some over that Clark and me thought was fine, but she said it wasn’t near thick enough.” Cunningham shook his head. “That woman’s been giving more orders than the captain and, unlike the orders we usually get from him, every man on the place does what she asks.”

  McCord wasn’t surprised. She’d ordered him to come back from the dead, and he’d done so for fear she’d follow him down and spend eternity complaining that he didn’t listen.

  “I swear,” Cunningham mumbled. “I have a hard time believing that woman don’t fight for slavery. She’s a natural master.”

  They both laughed. They’d never had slaves or believed in owning slaves. Like most Texans, they’d fought for Texas rights and it had cost both dearly. If either had anyone close to them they wouldn’t be doing such a dangerous job. McCord had been alone so long he barely remembered how it felt to have family. The war had left him with nothing but land that had gone wild in the years he’d been gone, and no one who cared.

  McCord forced down the pain in his back and his heart. “How long have I been out?”

  “Three days, and she’s barely left your side.”

  “I know,” he answered. Every time he’d come close to waking, he’d known she was beside him.

  Cunningham offered him whiskey, but he declined.

  “Water,” he said.

  The sergeant frowned. “I don’t know about that. With all the holes in you, you’re liable to spring a leak.” He poured a cup of water and held it while McCord drank.

  When he finished he asked, “What happened after…”

  Cunningham knew what he wanted to know. “A dozen of the boys went back for the bodies. Both the men who kidnapped Clark and Anna were dead. The gambler’s body and the man on watch, who Clark shot, were easy to recognize, but the man in black is a mystery. We brought the bodies back to the camp, but no one seems to be able to identify him. He could have been Thorn, who headed up the gang. From what I’ve heard about the man, he might have come alone, thinking he’d have time to torture Anna before the gambler killed her.”

  Anna entered, ending the conversation. She smiled when she saw McCord propped up.

  The sergeant stood away from the table and showed the patient off. “I did what you said. I turned him over. He may look like trampled death, but he’s well enough to complain about my nursing skills.”

  “She can see that,” McCord grumbled. “Mind getting me a shirt from my pack in the barracks?”

  Cunningham frowned. He didn’t seem to like the idea of leaving. “Oh, all right, but she’s been looking at that hairy chest of yours for days.”

  “And take your time,” McCord said to Cunningham’s back.

  The sergeant nodded as he moved to the door. “I should have known you’d wake up meaner than a wet snake. You got no gratitude in your bones, McCord. If it weren’t for knowing you’d do the same for me, I’d have left your bloody body out there in the middle of nowhere.” He closed the door, still complaining.

  Anna’s eyebrows pushed together. “Aren’t you going to thank him?” She set the soup beside his bed.

  “He knows I’m grateful and he’s right—I would do the same for him.”

  “It never hurts to say the words, Wynn.” She pulled a chair beside his bed and picked up the spoon as if she thought he’d let her feed him.

  McCord watched her, thinking how proper she looked. “Is that why you kept talking to me when I was near death, Anna? You thought there were words that needed saying?”

  “I guess.” She didn’t look up at him.

  “I don’t know if I heard everything, but I remember you telling me over and over to stay.” He took a drink of water and waited for her to say something. When she didn’t, he added, “You commanded me to come back, not just from death, but to you.”

  She set the spoon down and laced her fingers, but still did not look up.

  He saw the red burning across her cheeks, but he didn’t stop. “You said when I came back to you it would be to stay. You told me I belonged with you.” He grinned. “I think I even remember you yelling at me one night about how I was your man and I couldn’t die unless you said it was all right.” He laughed.

  His Anna was a strong woman who’d never hesitated to tell him what she thought, but she remained silent now. Maybe she’d never said those words before. Maybe she had thought he was too far gone to have heard. He didn’t care. She’d said them and that was all that mattered to him.

  “Give me your hand, Anna.”

  “Why?” She finally met his gaze.

  “I want to touch you.” When she laid her hand in his, he tugged her toward him.

  “You’re still very near death.” She tried to pull away.

  He grinned. “I’m also very near heaven. If touching you kills me, I can think of no better way to die. Unbutton a few buttons on that very proper dress of yours, darlin’. I’ve been thinking of how soft you feel and how it might taste to kiss my way down your throat again.”

  “I will not, Wynn McCord!” She twisted free and opened the pot of broth. “I can’t believe you’d even ask such a thing.”

  “I’m thinking more of doing than of asking,” he said, still smiling, “and I’m thinking you’ll let me too.”

  She stared at him and he had his answer in the need shining bright in her eyes. Her fingers trembled as she lifted the bowl of soup. “Now, eat your broth or I’ll call the sergeant back and he’ll pour it down you.”

  He didn’t push touching her. He knew what lay beneath that plain blue dress and he’d wait. He couldn’t stop smiling though. She’d been shy with him when she hadn’t known where she stood, but the minute he had pulled her close, she knew how he felt. Nothing had changed between them. They both knew he needed her, but she’d come to him on her own terms, and he’d let her take her time.

  He didn’t move as she sat on the side of the table and began feeding him. Halfway through the meal he watched as the blush came back to her cheeks. She talked of the broth and how good it would be for him, but they were both very much aware that his hand rested on her dress, just above her knee.

  He needed her near and she needed his touch, even if they couldn’t seem to find the words.

  That night when she checked his bandages and made sure he didn’t have a fever, his hand slipped beneath her gown and gripped the warm flesh above her knee.

  Her breathing quickened as he tugged her knee so he could brush her skin.

  “We going to talk about this, Anna?”

  She closed her eyes. “No,” she whispered.

  His grip tightened. “Am I making you feel uncomfortable, or am I hurting you in any way?” His hand moved a few inches higher.

  “No.”

  “I love the feel of you.” His touch turned to a caress. “I might not know how to be gentle, but I’ll never hurt you.”

  She looked at him and smiled. “I know.”

  Then, without him even asking her to, she leaned forward and kissed him.

  Chapter 11

  That night set a pattern to their lives. She was all the proper nurse in the morning when breakfast was brought in and several of the men came to visit, but after lunch she’d shoo them all away, saying McCord needed his rest. Then, in the silence of the office, she’d sit on the table that was his bed and face him.

  Without a word, he’d unbutton her blouse and brush the tips of his fingers over her warm flesh until she finally sighed, leaned forward, and kissed him fully. Anna had no idea if this was the way couples should act. She was far too old to worry about it. All she knew was that McCord loved touch
ing her and she loved being touched.

  His injury prevented them from going further, even though Wynn sometimes told her of what he’d like to do with her while she buttoned up her dress and unlocked the door to the late afternoon sun.

  He grew stronger every day, and every night he held her a little longer before she moved away to her tent.

  Logic told her he was a man without roots or home. The odds were he’d leave her, no matter what she said or how she cried, but when he did, he’d take her heart. She forced herself not to dwell on the future but only to treasure each hour they had.

  On their fifth day together, McCord stood and dressed himself. His back was healing. He’d be whole again soon.

  She watched as he reached for his Colts, then thought better of putting them on, but she knew a part of this Ranger would never feel completely dressed without the guns strapped around his waist.

  “Anna, there’s something I need to tell you,” he said the first chance they had alone together. “I’m moving to the enlisted men’s quarters tonight. Cunningham said he’d help me with my things.”

  “No,” she said, feeling her back stiffen. Just like that, he was leaving her.

  He reached for her, but she stepped away and they both knew he couldn’t move fast enough to catch her.

  He took two steps to the door and pulled the bolt closed. “This may be the last time we have alone for a few days. I’m not sure I’ll have the opportunity or the energy to walk all the way across camp tonight.”

  She moved in front of him. “You’re not well. You need to be here. You still need care.”

  “No, Anna, all I need now is a little time and you. Cunningham is rounding up an old buggy brought in for a wife who’d already left by the time it arrived. I could tie my horse to it and make it out of here. By the end of the week I’ll be able to…”

  A pounding on the door drowned out his words.

  “Annalane! Are you all right?” There was no mistaking her brother’s rant. “Why in the hell is this door locked? Annalane?”

  McCord backed away to sit on the bed, his strength fading.

  Anna opened the door. “Welcome back, Devin. Did you get all your business taken care of?”

  “Never mind that—what are you doing here locked in my office with a man?”

  Anna couldn’t help it—she smiled. “Learning about love and all kinds of forbidden things.”

  Devin didn’t buy the answer for one minute. “Stop being ridiculous. I know you weren’t doing anything, but you must think of appearances. You might have just been doctoring a dying man, but someone…” Devin paused long enough to stare at McCord. “You don’t look that sick.”

  “I’m not sick. I was shot.”

  Anna could see the dislike in McCord’s eyes. If her brother knew how deadly the Ranger could be, Devin would walk more softly. She half expected even an injured McCord to stomp on her brother like he was a bug.

  “He saved my life,” she said simply.

  Devin threw up his hands as he paced like a windup toy. “So what does that mean? Do you think you belong to him for life now?”

  McCord smiled at Anna and she forgot all about her brother.

  Wynn held out his hand and she walked into his arms. Without looking at her brother, she whispered to the Ranger, “Something like that.”

  He kissed her lightly. “You’re mine, Anna. You have been since I first saw you, and like it or not, I’m yours.”

  She laughed. “I like it just fine.”

  “What’s been going on here?” Devin yelled, but no one was listening.

  Wynn kissed her, spread his hand over her hip and pulled her against him.

  “This is outrageous,” Devin shouted, then added, “This is unbelievable.”

  When McCord let her up for air, he said, “I’ll go get the buggy. There’s no use waiting a few days. Can you be ready in half an hour? I want you leaving with me.”

  “But you’re…”

  “We’ll take it slow and the captain will give us an escort to Texas.” He collected his hat and Colts, then turned back to her for one more kiss. As his lips moved away, he whispered, “Come with me, Anna.”

  Devin was five feet away. Her brother seemed to be gagging on the words he’d just heard.

  McCord walked out the door without even looking at Devin.

  Anna started to pack. She’d need bandages and blankets for Wynn. No matter what he said, the trip would be hard on him, but she didn’t argue. She’d had enough of her brother and nothing sounded better than leaving.

  Devin was still yelling and complaining about her deserting him when Cunningham helped her into the buggy. Wynn looked as strong as steel, but McCord noticed his side of the buggy had been padded with blankets.

  They pulled out of the camp and headed southwest toward Texas. Everything had happened so fast, Anna just sat and tried to think. Change had always struck like lightning, but this time she’d stepped into the bolt.

  Wynn didn’t say a word until the guard following them waved and turned back. All at once the world seemed wild and empty and they were alone.

  She was alone, she corrected, with a man she barely knew. A man who probably hadn’t said a hundred words to her since they’d met.

  All panic left when his hand closed gently over hers.

  They traveled in silence until almost dark, then he stopped and led the horses to a small clearing where they had a stream for water and grass to graze. She insisted he rest while she made camp and offered him bread and dried meat from a basket one of the men said Clark insisted on putting in the back of the buggy.

  Wynn looked tired as he lowered himself onto the blankets, and by the time she’d packed the food away he was sound asleep.

  Anna curled up beside him and slept. At dawn she awoke to his gentle kiss.

  He didn’t say a word when she mumbled something about being a mess and crossed to the other side of the buggy to straighten her clothing and wash her face with water from the canteen. After she’d combed her hair without a mirror, she faced him.

  Wynn had hitched the horse and was waiting for her. He nodded a greeting as if they were little more than strangers. Neither seemed to know what to say. They climbed in the buggy and began following the ribbon of road made by wagons.

  As the cloudy day cooled, he touched her leg. “We’re going to hit rain,” he said, then patted her skirts as if he thought rain might frighten her. “We’ll need to make as many miles as we can before it starts.”

  They raced the weather, but by mid-afternoon the rain caught up to them. Wynn pulled the buggy beneath a stand of old cottonwood trees. They climbed out and he watched the clouds as she retrieved apples from their stash of food. When she handed him an apple, Wynn walked away from her and for one panicked moment she thought he might keep walking. He’d asked her to come with him in a hurried moment, with her brother watching. He’d been right about growing stronger, but had he changed his mind about her?

  At the edge of the natural shelter, he turned around and walked back, his head down.

  He didn’t say a word, but took her hand and pulled her toward a cottonwood, where the air hung still and damp and branches almost touched their heads.

  Anna waited. If she had any sense, she’d probably tell him to take her back to the camp. But she didn’t want to go back. She wanted to stay with him. He was the first man in years who saw her. Not a woman alone, to be pitied. Not a battle-weary nurse. Not a sister to be passed along to someone else just because he “couldn’t afford to be picky.”

  Wynn McCord saw her.

  She glared at him now, praying he didn’t suggest they turn back.

  He put his hands on her shoulders and gently pushed her back against the tree. “I need to say the words, Anna. I need to make it plain between us.”

  She could barely hear him for rain and the wind and her heart pounding.

  “I want you in my life.” He stopped, but didn’t let her move. “Hell!” he added. “That
’s not right.”

  She decided he looked like a man fighting the death penalty, but she guessed anything she said right now would not be welcomed, so she waited.

  “That’s not right,” he repeated.

  Tears threatened as she whispered more to herself than to him, “You don’t want me in your life?”

  “No. I mean yes.” He swore. “Facing down outlaws is easier than this.” He straightened and stared at her. “You might not guess, but I don’t usually talk to a woman, any woman. So let me finish and keep your suggestions to yourself.”

  Anger flared, but she held her tongue. If he told her to drop her accent, she’d clobber him right here, right now, even if he was injured.

  “I don’t just want you in my life, Anna.” He started again with no softness in his tone. “You are my life. I want you with me here in Texas. In my life and in my bed until we both die of old age. I think I was a walking dead man before you came along. The war took all the caring I had in me. I don’t even know if I have enough to give you now. But I’d like to give it a try. I want to fight with you all day and make love to you all night. I want to build a house around you and have a dozen kids and stay in one place for the rest of my days. I want to stay beside you.”

  Anna understood. “What about what I want?”

  He raised an eyebrow.

  “Let go of me, McCord.”

  He pushed away, looking very much like he wanted to fight for her, but the only one to fight stood before him. His eyes narrowed, as if he thought she planned to ask for more than he had to give.

  “I want you.” She poked him in the chest. “Broken down, hurt, hard as nails, you’re still the best man I’ve ever known. I want you.”

  A slow grin spread across his face.

  She held up her hand. “But I have terms. You have to tell me you love me.”

  “All right, Anna. I love you.” He circled her waist and pulled her closer. “I love every inch of you.”

  “And.”

  He didn’t let go of her. “I had a feeling there’d be an ‘and.’”

  “You have to tell me you love me every day.”