Give Me A Texas Ranger

by Jodi Thomas, Linda Broday, Phyliss Miranda

  “How did Buffalo Wallow get its name?” she asked.

  Dixie jumped onto the question. “Because folks decided that Shantytown was too good of a name, and since they felt everyone down there acted like buffalos wallowing around instead of upstanding citizens like them, the name stuck.”

  “We got the reputation for being rough, lawless, with too much six-gun justice,” Audrey Jo added.

  “I’d prefer to think of our folks as being self-reliant and spiritedly independent,” Ella said. Although, in fairness, it had lived up to its name, and if there was a brawl it generally had roots in Buffalo Wallow.

  Raising her gaze, she found the Ranger still watching her. For a moment she studied him intensely before lowering her head. Ella began tapping her finger against her glass, trying hard not to think about the man.

  Although she’d always had respect for the notorious Texas Ranger outfits, they were the ones who had caused her the problems she was faced with. Particularly one Captain Arrington, who had been hell-bent on cleaning up Mobeetie. Her father had seen it coming. Trying to stay one step ahead of the law, he had pulled up stakes and left her and her mother to fend for themselves. He headed to lawless fresh territory.

  A motley crew of con artists, gamblers, horse thieves, and fancy women followed.

  Seemed Buffalo Wallow, a crossroads of renegades and cowboys, was a natural nesting place for them.

  Until the urge to find her father overshadowed common sense, Ella had lived comfortably in Mobeetie, where she was happy running a highly respected millinery shop with her mother. Much different from her raising—one saloon after another.

  There were advantages. Much to her mother’s chagrin, by the age of ten Ella could spot a card cheat across the room, and could handle a gun as good as any man.

  Before she celebrated her seventeenth birthday, her father had disappeared.

  Only months later, her mother gave up trying to defend her husband. Brought on by the disgrace of secrets she was forced to keep, she gave up her will to live, shortly passing to the life hereafter.

  Ella had picked up the pieces and continued to operate the businesses, but in the back of her mind she knew she had to locate her father, so her mother could rest in peace.

  One day, Ella realized she had plenty of her father’s daring blood and boldness in her veins, and struck out to find him. To her disappointment she learned he had accomplished exactly what he had set out to do—stay ahead of the law. But once she located the last place he had owned and operated before he again disappeared, she was determined, come hell or high water, she would make a go of the run-down saloon, operating out of a makeshift combination wood building and tent, in a location she later learned was disreputable Buffalo Wallow.

  Thus, she blamed all of this not on her father but on the Texas Ranger captain who decided to clean up Mobeetie. That certainly justified her not takin’ kindly to the lawmen, although she had to confess not all of them were cut from the same cloth. She’d run across a few of the colorful body of fighting men who symbolized a spirit and sense of purpose when faced with some of the toughest and most desperate outlaws around. So far, that hadn’t changed her opinion of the Texas Rangers in general.

  The music stopped, and quiet grasped the air. The saloon darkened noticeably, as a giant of a man suddenly filled the doorway, blocking out the light of day.

  “Patience Eleanor Stevenson, you’re under arrest!”

  Chapter 3

  The biggest man Hayden believed he’d ever seen—and he’d seen his share of gigantic men—had to duck to get through the entrance to Chip and Hell’s. His barrel chest extended around his hips, making his gut hang heavy over his gun belt. His badge clung vicariously to his vest. Physically it would have been impossible for him to draw a weapon.

  His voice was as commanding as his stature. He sternly repeated, “Miss Stevenson, you’re under arrest.” He marched toward the three ladies, seized Ella by the arm and pulled her to her feet.

  Hayden set his glass down with purpose and squared his shoulders. Ella had done nothing threatening to the three-hundred-pound ogre. No man should lay his hands on a woman…lawman or not.

  Hayden was ready and willing to enter the fracas.

  Time had run out.

  Muley appeared at his side. “Leave it be, Ranger,” he said. He took two steps, then turned back and added, “Redhead is Audrey Jo and the other one is Dixie. They’re used to this sort of malarkey and will take care of her.” He strolled out of the bar.

  As if they’d heard Muley, the two women bound to their feet and surrounded Ella like mother hens protecting an injured chick. “Arrested, for what?” they asked simultaneously.

  From a far corner, several of the cowhands who had just come in edged forward, creating a half circle around the women and the sheriff.

  The table of poker players folded their cards. One crushed his cigar in a dish, and the other three slid their chairs back, prepared for a swift exit or to make sure their six-shooters could clear leather.

  A dance-hall girl slipped off the lap of a patron and headed for the stairs. Chip continued to wipe down the bar, without taking his eyes off the ruckus brewing.

  “Turn me loose.” Ella tried hard to pull free.

  “Can’t ya hear, Sheriff?” Audrey Jo grabbed her friend’s other arm. The lawman made a big show of tightening his grip, pulling Ella toward him.

  “I can hear fine, girl,” he bellowed. “Seems you’re the one who doesn’t know to speak only when you’re spoken to.”

  The exchange ignited Ella, who began thrashing about, kicking the hem of her skirt and then at a chair leg, obviously trying to redirect her anger toward anything that wouldn’t kick back.

  Dixie began chanting, “Lordy, lordy, lordy.”

  Time stopped. Tension hung heavy in the air, sucking the breath out of sensibility.

  “Please don’t.” Hayden’s temperature rose, and he murmured softly, “Mother of mothers, don’t do it.”

  He’d seen this scenario play out many times. Any lawman worth his salt oughta know better than to try to restrain a prisoner in such a way, even a 110-pound woman. He knew exactly what was fixin’ to happen. Somebody was gonna get walloped, and hard—generally it’d be the person doing the holdin’.

  Bad, very bad idea, Lady. Hayden shuddered.

  Sure enough, Ella jerked her right arm out of Audrey Jo’s grip. Spinning, she landed a blow with her fist against the sheriff’s chin, which set the flab on his neck jiggling like a wattle on a stew-ready rooster.

  The sheriff raised his left hand to defend himself in what McGraw realized was a natural instinct, but to some it would appear he was about to return the blow.

  Hayden had never seen a man deliberately strike a woman in public, and couldn’t stomach even the thought. Such men were scum, the lowest of humanity, nothing but a Burrowing Owl preying on a prairie dog in its hole.

  A mortified expression curtained Ella’s face. She stiffened her body and shrunk back in a defensive stance, as though protecting herself from a likely retaliatory blow. She covered her face with her free arm. This wasn’t the first time she’d defended herself from physical cruelty…an animal cowering for protection.

  Hayden’s heart dropped to the pit of his stomach. His fist tightened, and he had to take a deep breath in order to curtail his own temper.

  “That just added another charge—assaulting an officer of the law,” Sheriff Oldham bellowed, fumbling for his handcuffs.

  “I have a right to say what I want.” Her voice trembled as she pulled herself up straight. “First Amendment to the Constitution…freedom of speech.”

  Hayden took a deep breath, expecting her to recite the Constitution word for word, probably including the punctuation.

  “You’ve gotta learn to hobble your lips, Woman.” Apparently giving up on finding his handcuffs, the sheriff proceeded to steer her toward the door. “It isn’t your freedom of speech; it’s your whole damn attitude that’s gotc
ha in trouble.”

  “Let go of me.” Ella’s voice dropped so low that it could barely be heard above the mumbling crowd. “I’ll go freely.”

  “Can’t take that chance.” His face flushed blood red, and he heaved his chest heavily. “I’m tempted to just hang you right here and now, Little Woman.”

  “For what?” Her voice was as unyielding as limestone. “I didn’t deliberately hit you, and you know it.”

  Baldy rushed in, waving his pistol in the air and shouting, “For thievery! She stole a horse. A real ugly one.”

  One man yelled, “Hangin’ offense, ugly or not—”

  Another behind him broke in. “Don’t need to wait for the circuit judge. I seen her do it.”

  One of the cowhands punched another. “Yep, we witnessed it. Dern sure did. Bold as can be.”

  A woman from the far corner yelped, “At least take a vote.” She waved her handbag. “I vote to rid the town of one problem. Those in favor say yea.”

  A thunderous yea ensued. Noticeably the not-so-feminine scalawag didn’t ask for a nay vote.

  “Take it outside!” Chip rounded the counter, and began shooing the patrons out like he’d do a flock of mourning doves. “Free beer’s over.”

  A man bellowed, “We’ll get the rope.”

  Baldy yelled, “I have a horse.”

  Another directed, “The old cottonwood by Boot Hill.”

  “No, at the courthouse,” the sheriff roared. “I want it lawful.” He stepped between the crowd and Ella, who seemed dazed. “And damn quick too.”

  The vigilante lynchin’ committee rushed out into the daylight.

  Ella shot the sheriff a barbed look, then softened it as she caught Hayden’s gaze. Heartfelt desperation and a plea for help flanked her face. Her eyes, as dark as sapphires, caught him off guard, sending a quake throughout his body.

  It didn’t take a book on laws to tell Hayden he had to step up and take control, keeping the gathering from becoming a full-fledged riot. He could no longer consider himself a visitor in town; he was now the ranking lawman. It was obvious the sheriff was in over his head in vigilante justice, and his self-importance had surpassed common sense.

  Enough was enough.

  Hayden preferred to work with the sheriff, not toss around his authority. But he’d come across too many cocky lawmen like Sheriff Oldham, who got their jollies out of flaunting their power much like a mockingbird pestering a cat.

  Sheriff Oldham firmly guided Ella toward the door, with Audrey Jo and Dixie right on her heels. The saloon quickly emptied into the street. The vigilantes obviously thrilled at the thought of breaking the summer heat with a hangin’.

  Hayden broke through the crowd, just as Baldy tossed a rope over an ancient cottonwood.

  “Stop!” Hayden yelled, as he drew up even with the sheriff. “If you can’t control the mob, I will.”

  Sheriff Oldham handed the woman over to Baldy. Grinning like a possum eatin’ a yellow jacket, he pulled Ella alongside him.

  The sheriff turned to face Hayden, eye to eye. “I don’t know who in the hell you think you are, but I’m the law in this neck of the woods. And I’ll arrest you for interfering with me doing my job.” He slipped a noose around Ella’s neck.

  “Hayden McGraw, Texas Ranger First Lieutenant.” He glared at Baldy. “Put another sleazy hand on the lady, and you’ll have me to contend with.”

  “Shows how new you are round these parts, Ranger. She ain’t no lady.” The sheriff spat tobacco juice in the dirt.

  “Apparently you are no gentleman.”

  “And, you’re apparently in cahoots with her.”

  Obviously the lines had been drawn between the Ranger and the sheriff. Nothing new to either one. There seemed to be no gray area where law enforcement tangled. Either they got along to take care of the matter at hand or they detested one another. Generally the local sheriff set the tone for their relationship. Sheriff Oldham was definitely not extending his hand in welcome.

  The crowd quieted considerably. Respectfully, most stepped back several feet. Some seemed interested in seeing what the lawmen would do, while others decided it was time to go about their day. The excitement of witnessing a hangin’ had fizzled out. Nobody cared about a disagreement between two lawmen. One would win out, one wouldn’t, but there’d be no hangin’ today.

  Hayden pulled his badge from his pocket. Sunrays danced off the silver.

  “Anybody can have a blacksmith make one of them from a Mexican silver coin. Jest ’cause you have a badge doesn’t make you a Ranger,” Sheriff Oldham said.

  Infuriated, Hayden’s heart fumed at the insult. He remembered the exact moment the badge was pinned on him by his Ranger father, who had received it from Hayden’s grandfather, a feared los diablos Tejanos—a “Texas Devil.” An outfit of Rangers who rode courageously, straight into the arms of death, and were scared of nobody or nothing. He bristled at the sheriff’s bad taste.

  “That’s a slap in the face to every Texas Ranger who ever lived,” Hayden spat out.

  “Then show me your Warrant of Authority.”

  Hayden McGraw had problems…big problems.

  A beautiful woman with a noose around her neck, no proof he was a Texas Ranger, and a pompous ass of a sheriff with hangin’ on his mind.

  Chapter 4

  It took every bit of self-control to keep Hayden from pistol whippin’ the local lawman. The Ranger needed air. His father had taught him that in order to be the best, he had to be unhurried and courageous enough to take a fraction of a second longer to make sure he was accurate, as well as fast with a gun. This advice served to remind him that he must take the extra time necessary to let cool judgment, rather than hasty emotions, prevail. He set his jaw and took a deep breath. The hot, dusty air burned his lungs.

  He glanced back at Ella, who was watching him intently. Strength and understanding, yet uncertainty, veiled her face. Genuine tenderness reflected in her eyes. He tried to give her a reassuring smile to let her know she’d be safe with him; but for some reason, he didn’t think she’d see it that way.

  Determined to do the job he’d signed up for—stand tall between society and its enemies—Hayden must make his position clear. “Sheriff, I am taking possession of the prisoner, and carrying her back to Mobeetie for trial.”

  “You’re not going anywhere with my prisoner,” the sheriff growled. “Get me a warrant or get out of town, unless you wanna end up in the hoosegow with her.”

  “I’ve got one waiting. All I need is twenty minutes to pick it up.” Hayden prayed Molly Lou’s wasn’t any farther than half a mile away.

  “Not good enough. Show it now or no prisoner.”

  Hayden McGraw had been tested many times, but this jackass had gone too far.

  In long-legged strides, Ranger McGraw took the courthouse steps and pulled up near Ella. Turning to the crowd, he said, “Ladies and gentlemen, I’m a Texas Ranger, and I’m taking control of this situation.” He pinned his silver badge on his jacket then pulled back his coat and rested his hand on his Peacemaker. “Go on home. Excitement’s over. There’ll be no hangin’ today.”

  Sheriff Oldham puffed out his chest. His face flushed, turning blood red. “Go on, folks.”

  Hayden wasn’t sure if the lawman was tuckered out from having to work for a change or relieved he could get his humongous heinie out of the sweltering sun.

  A few citizens wandered off, shaking their heads. A fistful of nosey-butts lagged behind.

  Obviously realizing he was up to his tin star in cow patties, Sheriff Oldham tossed out his final demand. “The only way I’d put her in your custody is if you’re family.”

  “I am!” Hayden almost choked on the words.

  The sheriff guffawed. “I still wanna see that warrant in no more than twenty minutes.”

  “It’ll be here.”

  “Do tell.” Sheriff Oldham smirked in a gotcha way. “And I reckon you don’t even know her name.”

  He plastered on
a possum-eatin’ grin on his snout, apparently figuring he’d played his best card, not knowing Hayden had an ace in the hole.

  A knack for remembering details to a flaw.

  “Patience Eleanor Stevenson.” He pushed his Stetson back with his thumb. “But I call her Puddin’ Cake.” He turned to Ella, and said, “Don’t I, wife?”

  If looks could kill, Ella’s face would be on every wanted poster between the Canadian River and the Rio Grande. She set her chin in a stubborn line and glared at him, either in suspicion or surprise. Now why in the hell didn’t she look all that pleased with his efforts? After all, he’d saved her from a neck stretchin’.

  Baldy backed away when Hayden reached for Ella, pulling her to his side.

  The Texas Ranger deliberately rested his hand on her hip, patting her lightly. Through the bustle, he knew she didn’t feel his touch, but he figured the sheriff would see it as intimacy.

  Hayden had to admit, she sure as hell felt good at his side. “Come on, Puddin’ Cake, I rode long and hard to get here, and I’m ready for a hot meal and some husband time.”

  She shot him a half smile that could have turned sunshine into snow. And he’d been the one suspended for having a piss-poor attitude?

  Redemption was imminent.

  “I know I’m pretty ragged lookin’, darlin’, but I didn’t take time to clean up ’cause you were always on my mind.” He grinned.

  Sheriff Oldham would have wanted to know their kinship sooner or later. Hayden didn’t know the woman from Bass Outlaw, but now he’d claimed her as his wife. Had he done the right thing? Of course, there was still the possibility that in due time she’d face a hemp committee for horse thievery. But not if he could help it.

  Ella looked at him in a questioning, almost fearful way.

  Damn bad time for Hayden to notice her long, mahogany hair shining in the sunlight. It reminded him of a handsome bay; and just think, he’d been accused by some of not having a tender bone in his body. Maybe it was because he’d never known anything but rangering. He figured he’d been raised by the famous lawmen, because that’s about all he ever remembered. His father, grandfather, and the Texas Rangers.