Give Me A Texas Ranger

by Jodi Thomas, Linda Broday, Phyliss Miranda

  Like she had hoped to do with Marc.

  Chapter 7

  Getting In the Licks

  Their gazes locked. Thomas gently urged her inside the shop, not bothering to close the door behind them. His gaze lowered to her mouth, lingered, then raised to rest on her again. He smiled and carried her hand upward, brushing her knuckles with his lips. “Laney, I’m going to kiss you.”

  Her pulse hammered. Trying to ignore it, she failed. “I know.”

  “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, running his thumb over the pulse at her wrist.

  To her dismay, it beat faster and even more erratically than the moment before, and she found herself impatient for the taste of him. “Thomas.” She whispered his name in a heated rush.

  He cupped her face in his hands and looked deeply into her eyes; then, ever so exquisitely, he lowered his lips to hers.

  His lips were more skilled than his hands—firm, yet soft and warm. He took his time, gently urging her to yield to his masterful manipulation of her senses. She sighed as he tantalized her to open her mouth and allow him to deepen the kiss with a gentle sweep of his tongue. She gave in to the sensations swirling like warm eddies in her bloodstream, igniting heat in their wake. It was only a kiss. An impossible kiss that somehow answered every unasked question she had about passion…until now. Until Thomas.

  Reason whispered for her to stop, that she was heading into trouble, that she hadn’t thought things out clearly. But for once, she wanted nothing more than to be impulsive, to enjoy what she felt and not question it to death. Laney wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back, meeting his tongue with hers in a hungry lick and parry that made her eager for more. A torrent of heat hotter than a windstorm over the desert flared between them, setting his skin ablaze beneath her fingertips, radiating through the cloth of his shirt. His lips blazed a trail of kisses down her neck, making her gasp with the sheer want of him. She moaned as the sound of her name exited his lips in a rush of heat at the valley where her throat ended. Her fingers curled into the soft, silky black hair at the nape of his neck, urging him closer still. Longing for more, every nerve ending in her body tingled with anticipation.

  The iron band of his arm pulled her closer, as if he couldn’t get enough of the feel of her. She sensed his desperation to have no clothes between them, for she felt it too. Laney arched toward him, pressing her breasts against him, wanting more, afraid she would never know the true depth of the glorious feelings his touch had ignited within her. All reason insisted that she hold back, to withstand the sensual onslaught of his lips, but something other than good sense gave a strangled moan within her and she gave herself completely to his kiss, their tongues equal contenders in a tantalizing tangle.

  Someone cleared his throat. Laney blinked away the haze that had enveloped her, suddenly aware once more of her surroundings. It took her a moment to realize that the masculine sound had not come from Thomas, rather from Judge Townsend, who stood in the doorway. To complete her dismay, Dannell was with him!

  The heartbeat that had been thundering in her pulse felt as if it raced to sink into her feet. She pushed away from the wall of Thomas’s chest, trying to straighten her hair, wipe the kiss off her lips, and find some reasonable explanation for her actions.

  What am I doing? What must they be thinking? Dannell would use this public display against her to prove her unfit, and she could blame no one but herself. Yet she’d never known such desire as when Thomas had touched her. Not even with Marc. She’d never dreamed that a single touch could set her soul on fire as if it were a match struck aflame. She’d thrown caution to the wind, wanting nothing more than to make mad, sweet love to Thomas right there in her shop, and with no conscious thought as to who might come in. She’d known the Ranger little more than twenty-four hours and wanted to rip his clothes off.

  If she couldn’t get her feelings under control, what would they be doing by the time she finished the saddle?

  “This won’t happen again,” she insisted aloud, not sure if she was trying to reassure the men, Thomas, or herself.

  “It was only a kiss.” Amusement filled Thomas’s tone. “Don’t look so devastated.”

  “It looked a good deal more than that.” Dannell’s red handlebar mustache puffed as he spoke, a slow flush of anger creeping up his neck to match his ruddy cheeks. “Did it to you, Judge Townsend?”

  “We’ll wait for you out here, Mrs. O’Grady”—the judge graciously did not take her brother-in-law’s bait—“while you say your good-byes to your friend.”

  For once, her brother-in-law was right. That had been a lot more than a kiss to Laney. How could she have responded to Thomas so wantonly? “Thank you, Judge. I won’t keep you waiting.”

  “Remember, we’re busy men.” Dannell gave her a warning look, then took a step backward when Thomas moved closer to him. “Don’t take too long.”

  “She’ll take as long as she needs.” Thomas shot him a deadly glare that sent a shiver down Laney’s spine. Dannell nearly stumbled over his fancy cane as he backed out of the door.

  “I thought so.” Thomas laughed. “A man like that’s all jaw and no jugular.”

  He strolled back to Laney, and when she realized he was going to kiss her again, she stepped backward, throwing up her hands to ward him away. But Thomas would have none of it. He grabbed her hands, pulled her to him and wrapped them around his waist, kissing her quick and hard.

  He finally let her go, but his gaze remained locked with hers. “Whatever hold that man thinks he still has on you, Laney, we’ll handle…together. Just like we’re going to handle whatever this is that’s stirring up between you and me. You’re attracted to me”—he traced a finger down her cheek and tapped her upper lip—“and I’m sure as hell attracted to you.” His voice became whisper soft. “That brother-in-law of yours can bank on one thing…nothing will stop me from seeing where it’s going to lead us.”

  She sucked in a deep breath as he left her arms, moved outside, and mounted his horse. As he rode away, the sight of him sitting powerfully and masterfully in his saddle thrilled her. Sleek, hard muscles, well-accustomed to handling whatever came their way, formed the man who had laid claim to her senses. She closed her eyes and swore to herself, knowing that the voice that had whispered to tread cautiously around the Ranger ever since she met him, now lay in the silent ashes of her will.

  Thomas Longbow wasn’t a man who made promises lightly and she was a woman who had yearned to know a man’s burn.

  Chapter 8

  Come Out Fighting

  Laney dreaded facing Dannell, knowing he would be waiting to attack her like a cougar cornering a field mouse. Oh, he would keep his hands to himself in front of Judge Townsend, but he would verbally criticize what he’d just seen. He never missed an opportunity to make her look bad, mistakenly believing it made him look better. Not that she needed any help putting her reputation in question this morning. She’d done that well enough herself.

  That kiss. That wonderful, glorious kiss. Why couldn’t she get it and Thomas Longbow out of her mind? Why had she forgotten the time? Now she’d made a fool of herself in front of the judge and Dannell, of all people.

  Her lips still tasted of Thomas. Warm, salty-sweet, masculine. A rush of heated thoughts threatened to redden her cheeks as Laney pretended to be in deep concentration when the two men entered the shop. She quickly excused herself to give her cheeks time to quit blushing. “I need to jot down some details concerning my last order before I forget them.”

  “I dare say you made fast friends with that stranger.” Disdain filled Dannell’s tone. “I don’t recall seeing him with you before yesterday.”

  “I make friends easier than some people,” she said, scribbling down the mental measurements she’d taken into account for Thomas’s saddle before she forgot them. And we know who one of those “some people” are, don’t we, Dannell, she thought, hoping he recalled the list of names on the last page of the papers she’d show
n him. Did he really want to play word games?

  Laney hoped this new explanation would sit well with the judge and make Dannell think twice about saying any more. “Besides, if you’ll remember, I needed to thank the man for rescuing me last night.”

  She glared at her brother-in-law, silently daring him to give her reason to tell the judge what had happened at the Vendome dining room.

  Dannell’s brow furrowed, his eyes taking on a hard glint. “I should think a handshake would have been sufficient.”

  Judge Townsend rose from the seat he’d taken on the bench and moved over to the counter, doffing his hat and offering a gentlemanly smile. “I don’t know that I wouldn’t have asked the same, if I were a younger man.”

  Laney smiled up at him. “I appreciate your understanding, Your Honor. And I’m sure Mrs. Townsend thinks you’re just the right age for her.”

  They shared a laugh.

  Laney had hoped she could count on the judge’s good sense. Of all the litigators she had talked to regarding her desire to win custody of Gideon, Judge Townsend had been the one who had given her most hope. She was about to put her dreams in his hands and she hoped she could trust him to see through Dannell’s manipulations.

  “How can I be of help to you, my dear?” The judge took out his pocket watch and checked the time. “I agreed to stop by for a few minutes, but even that has been cut short, I’m afraid. Your brother-in-law informs me that I’m needed at the McGinty Club. It seems William Barclay Masterson is arriving from Denver and is to be the chosen referee for tonight’s fight.”

  “Bat Masterson?” she asked, recognizing the name of the lawman who helped to settle Kansas.

  “The same. I have the dubious honor of telling Mr. Masterson that his actions go against the peace and dignity of the great state of Texas, and that he will not be able to take that role upon himself. Tonight or any other night, for that matter.”

  “I don’t know, Judge.” Dannell shook his head. “The great citizens of El Paso are ready to flex their muscles too. Those two fighters are idolized by every wide-eyed boy, gambler, and sports fan on both sides of the border. Even the ladies are putting their forty cents down for a ticket. Not to mention the governor’s own wife, Sally, isn’t opposed to the contest. She says her husband was elected to carry out the will of the people, and we people have the right to what we want. How are you going to stop the inevitable?”

  “Don’t mistake me. I want the fight as well as any man. It’s big business for the stores.”

  Dannell rocked back on his heels. “I know it’s been good money for my businesses on Utah Street.”

  Your bawdy houses, you mean. Laney shot him a look of disgust. Why wasn’t anyone up in arms about that kind of entertainment in town?

  “The city has swollen to about twenty thousand people,” the judge continued. “That makes for filled-up rooms and lodging houses. But there’s more to this than making a simoleon. I’m hoping you all will have the good sense not to take on the Rangers. They’ve been ordered to shoot to kill first and arrest afterwards.”

  Laney couldn’t hide her shock. “Surely not. There will be women and children among the spectators.”

  “Ask any one of them yourself,” Dannell complained. “You seem to know one or two of them, it seems.”

  She would ask the one she knew. She couldn’t imagine Thomas Longbow harming a child…but then, she didn’t really know him at all.

  So at least Dannell knew that Thomas was a Ranger. Maybe he wouldn’t be so quick to cause her problems if he thought she and Thomas were something more than acquaintances. No—Laney shook her head—she wouldn’t use Thomas like that. She’d fight her own battles.

  “Mr. Longbow is the only one I know personally, and it’s thanks to him that I can finally do this.” She reached into the cabinet below the counter and pulled out a strongbox. “The reason I asked you to stop by, Your Honor, is that I have those papers we discussed, and some money up front to begin the process.”

  Judge Townsend scanned the paper, focusing on the last page. He shot a glance at Dannell then back to Laney. “I assume the two of you have discussed this together.”

  “We tried,” Laney informed him, “but we didn’t have much success with the talk.”

  Dannell cleared his throat as if something were caught in it, then said, “I thought we could discuss this further on the way to the McGinty Club. I believe my sister-in-law has taken liberties with some of the names on that list, and we should go talk to them together to see if there have been any…shall we say, favors offered for supporting her cause.”

  “How dare you accuse me of such things.” Laney looked around for something to throw at him, but decided giving in to her rage would just prove her unable to handle this like an adult. “I believe if His Honor took a good look into your background, he’d discover whose favor you’ve been courting on Utah Street.”

  “I hope your sister-in-law is not correct in her accusation.” Judge Townsend’s face took on a stern expression. “You know what I’ve told you in the past regarding that matter. We’re trying to put an end to the tenderloin district, and if I find out you’re in any way involved with all of that, I will invoke your brother’s will sooner. All she has to do is prove herself as a fit provider for her and the boy. These signatures suggest a very strong case not only against you, but for her right to custody.”

  Tears raced from her heart to well in her eyes, but Laney willed them back. She wouldn’t let Dannell see her cry. No matter that these were tears of triumph. She hadn’t won yet. She still had to finish the gloves and saddle. “Thank you, Judge Townsend. I was hoping that’s what you’d say. I’ll have the rest of the money to you in a matter of days. I just have two more orders to fill before I have it all.”

  If looks could burn, Dannell’s fiery glare would have set her aflame.

  “Then I’ll take this with me, Mrs. O’Grady.” The judge put the papers and deposit money inside a pocket of his frock coat. “I’ll read over your petition more carefully this evening. Hopefully, I can get this Masterson situation under control and won’t have to be dealing with a fight on my hands tonight.”

  “I can almost guarantee you won’t,” Laney said, knowing that Pete Maher would never agree to the battle until he had his lucky gloves. She needed the rest of the evening to finish them, maybe part of tomorrow morning.

  “Sounds like you know something,” the judge teased. “If you do, keep it to yourself. The less I know, the less likely I’ll have you arrested.”

  “She doesn’t know any more than anyone else,” Dannell muttered, whining like a boy who’d been bested. “I’ll bet she doesn’t even know they’ve got a boxcar, filled with a circus tent and lumber, located where it can be attached to any rail line leading out of here. It’s going to be used to build the arena.” He raised his eyes to Laney and smiled smugly. “I’ll bet even your Ranger doesn’t know that Fitz has ordered it to be moved tonight.”

  “Tonight?” Laney asked. “Are you sure Mr. Fitzsimmons said tonight?”

  “I heard him and Dan Stuart himself talking about it at Pete Young’s pool hall.” Haughtiness filled his features as he relayed information the judge apparently had not been aware of. “Fitz said that his wife and new baby would have to go back to the training quarters in Juarez tonight because he would be taking care of some business down at the rail yard. They talked a great deal about the car with the tent and the lumber being moved. They just didn’t say where.”

  If moving the railcar meant the fight would happen tonight, she had to convince Mr. Maher to stop it. The gloves weren’t ready. If he was forced to fight with another pair, she wouldn’t get the bonus. She wouldn’t have enough money to finish paying the custody-trial expenses.

  She had to find where the boxer had gone for the day. “You wouldn’t have any idea where I can find Pete Maher at the moment, would you?”

  Judge Townsend nodded. “As a matter of fact, I do. He’s meeting some reporters at Mr
s. Darrow’s shooting gallery. You’ll find him there.” He winked at her. “Despite what your relative thinks, I do keep track of the players in the game. I just don’t know how long he’ll be there.”

  Just so he’s there long enough for me to catch him in time, Laney prayed, glad when the pair said they had to be on their way.

  Chapter 9

  Fancy Footwork

  After lunch, Thomas was ready for Maher to head back to Las Cruces, but it looked as if the boxer had plans to spend all day in El Paso. For someone nursing sore eyes, Maher was getting around just fine. Thomas had wanted to go back to the shop and see how Laney had fared with her appointment with the judge, and find out why Dannell had tagged along, but he’d been instructed to keep a particular watch on Maher today.

  Something was definitely on the stir. General Mabry had called a handful of Rangers to the rail yards to keep an eye on a boxcar that held the circus tent and lumber that was to be used to build the boxing arena. Word among the reporters tailing Maher was that the car could take track the moment any decision was made to move the fight somewhere outside of El Paso. With five trunk lines feeding the border town, the battle could be sent in any direction. Posting guards around the clock seemed the wisest and most logical move to make.

  Thomas’s assignment now seemed the lesser of those being dealt to others of his corps, and normally he would have minded being left out of the hub of action, but playing nursemaid to a railcar held no appeal at the moment. At least following Maher provided a bit of unusual entertainment and kept boredom at bay.

  The Irish boxer seemed intent upon focusing his mending eyes and trying his very famous hands at hitting one of the targets in the two-million-dollar automatic shooting gallery, the only one of its kind in the entire world. Thomas stretched out his long legs in the booth and watched as a crowd of men placed bets as to how many targets the boxer would hit without missing. Considering his limited vision, the bets abounded. Thomas thought of it as a game for starched-collar men. Trying to make a musical maid beat a kettle drum, plug a trumpeter so he’d blow a bugle call, or catch an Italian spaghetti maker in the breadbasket seemed a lazy man’s attempt at earning bragging rights.