In the wagon on their way back to Fort Bliss, Suzanne glanced up when Gus slid in beside her. Her palms were damp, and she still felt shaky and scared inside. Not trusting her voice, she turned away and stared off into the distance, her hands clenched together in her lap. Tears were a blink away. Nurses were strong for other people, she told herself. They did not fall apart. She pressed her lips tightly together.
“Hold my hand,” Gus whispered. Strong fingers closed around hers.
“I’m not upset anymore.” To her chagrin, her voice cracked with strain. She swallowed and forced it under control. “You saved my life tonight, and I’m at a loss how to thank you for that. I’m trying to handle it.” She took a deep breath. “I think I’m all right now.”
“Well, I’m not. I’m a mess inside. I didn’t want you hurt.” Gus pried her twisted hands apart and wound his fingers through hers. “What’s this?” He pulled a cheap beaded chain from her fingers.
“I don’t know. I was holding it when you pulled me away.”
He dropped it into his shirt pocket. “It’s a chain of some kind. We’ll check it out in the light when we get to your house.”
Needing to touch him, she gripped his hand in grateful response, then placed her free hand on top of his. She didn’t say a word the rest of the way back to the post, just held tight to his big, rough hand with both of hers.
Gus took Suzanne home, while Jake did the same with Elizabeth.
Five minutes after she and Gus walked into her father’s house, Suzanne had Gus sitting at her kitchen table, cleaning him up, checking several wounds where the knife had cut him.
Her mother had peeled off his bloody shirt and put it to soak in a pan of soapy water. Leaning against the wall, his arms crossed, her father, Major Peterson, watched silently.
Gus pulled the chain from his pocket. He’d already examined it. “Major,” he said, pushing the chain across the tabletop to her father, “do you recognize this?”
Major Peterson held it up to the light and read the metal tag attached to the chain. Campo Militar No. 13, Chihuahua. His mouth tightened. “I recognize it, and so do you, Sergeant. It’s Mexican military. Some wear them, some don’t. No name, of course. They only put a unit number on the tag.” He handed the chain back to Gus. “Colonel Gordon will be most interested. Keep me posted, please. And thank you for protecting our Suzanne tonight.”
They chatted for a few minutes longer, and then Suzanne’s mother went with her husband to another part of the house.
Gus, his arm outstretched on the tabletop, watched Suzanne, dark eyes wary, tinged with the hardness that Rangers acquired to do what they did. He had a straight Roman nose and a dominant jaw, shadowed and strong.
Though beads of sweat stood out on his forehead as she worked, he made no sound as she cleaned and swabbed the punctures, which she knew were like raw meat inside. Only the involuntary shutting of his eyes revealed when she hurt him. Beneath the desert tan, the skin of his forearm was turning a black and purple color almost as she watched.
She laid the gauze aside and looked up at him. “Let me run you over to the hospital. They can numb your arm for this. At least you won’t feel the pain.”
“You’re doing fine. Doesn’t hurt at all.”
“Gus, I know better.”
He spread a hand over his mouth and wiped his lips. “Just finish and get it over with.”
Around midnight, she offered to have a soldier take him home. While the spoonful of laudanum she’d given him had taken the edge off the pain, the way he held his arm against his chest told her it still ached. Being a nurse, she refused to give him any more tonight. Fatigue rimmed his eyes with traces of red.
“You need to get some rest,” Suzanne said.
He nodded. “You’re right. I am tired.” Gus turned from the window, where he’d been checking the front yard for intruders again, and sat down on the couch. Yawning, he kicked off his boots and stretched out.
“That’s not what I meant,” she said, insisting she wasn’t upset from the fight anymore. In the middle of her explanation why he should go home, he rolled over and, as if he’d thrown a switch inside his head, fell fast asleep.
Oh, for heaven’s sake. She’d heard Texas Rangers could do that—could go to sleep on command. Until that night, she didn’t believe it.
Now what? Hands on her hips, she stood by the couch in her living room. Her gaze rested on the wide tan shoulders, the thick arms. He was in the prime of manhood, strong, healthy. Most women would call him handsome, if you liked the muscled, macho type. A small sigh slipped out. He didn’t know it, but she liked this one. Very much.
She spread a blanket over him and tucked it around his bare shoulders. “I was so scared,” she whispered. “Thank you for not listening to me. I’m glad you’re here. My folks want you to come to dinner tomorrow night.” Softly so as not to wake him, she stroked his cheek. “So do I.”
She turned off the light and went upstairs to bed.
In the dark, Gus smiled.
Campo Militar No. 13
Chihuahua, Mexico
Diego looked up from the report on his desk, his face angry. “Apparently, if I want a hostage, I’ll have to do it myself. Otherwise, mistakes happen. This time, Major, I’m going with you.”
“Do you think that’s wise, sir?” Major Chavez asked.
Diego pushed himself out of his chair and stared at Chavez. “Probably not, but what’s the alternative? Texas Rangers got her away from you in Mexico, and last week the Arroyos themselves backed off from confronting the Rangers. If we plan it right, we can be across the river, grab Elizabeth Evans, and be back in Mexico with her before anyone knows she’s gone. I estimate from start to finish, it will take three hours.”
El Paso, Texas
“Giddy-yap!” Ruthie called to the horse as she bounced around on Jake’s lap.
Elizabeth smiled when he slapped the reins and said sternly to the horse, “You heard the little lady.”
As usual, Jake was within reaching distance. Until things quieted down across the border, her father wanted her accompanied wherever she went, and Colonel Gordon had agreed.
During the day, Jake—if he was free, or a soldier from Fort Bliss if he wasn’t—escorted her wherever she needed to go and dropped her off. For the next few months, she was never to be out in public without security.
Ruthie lifted her face and gave Jake a loud, damp kiss on the cheek.
He laughed. “Why don’t you teach your aunt to do that?”
The buggy moved away from Elizabeth’s quarters and headed past the well-groomed flower beds for the road through the post. Once through the main gate, it was an easy three miles to El Paso.
Ruthie sat on Jake’s lap, holding his hands with the reins and pretending she was driving the horse herself. Elizabeth spent as much time with her as possible, and so did Jake.
That afternoon, Elizabeth was going into the newspaper office to say hello to everyone and see what she could do to help. She didn’t know many people in town yet, but a few neighbors recognized her in the buggy and called to her. Pleased, she waved back. Jake pulled over and let her out to talk to two women.
When she climbed in again, he drove back out into the street. She smiled at him. “That was thoughtful. Thanks. I hardly know anyone yet.”
“You’ve got a lot ahead of you,” he said.
On the wooden sidewalk outside the newspaper office, she held Ruthie’s hand and read the sign running across the building: the grande examiner. Sadness welled up that Lloyd wasn’t here to see it with her. Jake, watching her, said nothing, though he moved closer.
“I’ll never be able to take his place,” she said.
Jake took her hand. “I think he’d tell you not to try.” He was quiet for several moments and then spoke hesitantly, as though he had to pull the words out.
“You haven’t talked about it, but I don’t think he’d want you and Ruthie decked out in black because something happened to him. We
talked once about it—he called it morbid. He told me how your father dressed you and him in black after your mother died, and he said your father wept every time he did it. You were six years old.”
Jake let out a deep breath. “I’m sorry if I’m saying something you don’t want to hear. It’s just that since he felt strongly about it, I thought you should know.”
“And you?” she asked. “How do you feel?”
“I think grief is private. How you handle it is your decision.”
Elizabeth straightened. “I’ve heard my father make reference to it, but he was a young congressman then in Washington, which has a rigid society. He had to conform or he’d have found himself an outcast. That’s not the case out here. We’re on the frontier, and that eases a lot of the restrictions. I didn’t realize Lloyd felt the same.”
The sadness left as she stepped through the door. Two of the writers jumped to their feet. “Here’s our celebrity back from Mexico. We’re so glad you’re back,” Ezra Stuart said, a balding man with glasses.
When she started to introduce Jake, Ezra grabbed his hand and shook it. “We all know Jake. Lloyd brought him in several times.”
Ezra introduced her to two workers she hadn’t met before. One of them asked, “What can we do to help you get started?”
Elizabeth threw her hands out. “Everything.”
She greeted each of them, trying to learn a bit about them, and who did what at the newspaper.
“I’ve been thinking and need your input on a lot of things. How about El Paso schools? There’s only one and it’s not open all the time. How about we campaign for more public schools for the children? We have ten thousand people now and desperately need more schools.”
She looked up, shaking her head. “And law enforcement. In the last eight months, I understand we’ve had six sheriffs. That’s a serious problem. Our police department needs more structure and tighter rules. And more officers.”
Ezra Stuart stared at her and clapped his hands. “Welcome home, and thank you, Elizabeth Madison Evans. You are certainly your brother’s sister.”
A rush of embarrassment warmed her cheeks. “I have a lot to learn, so you’ll have to lead me like a little child. Lloyd always talked about efficiency and saving the reporters’ time. I probably don’t know how to do that yet, but we can get someone in here who does. We want the Grande Examiner to be the best newspaper in West Texas!”
Everyone cheered and clapped their hands.
Ruthie did the same, jumping up and down and clapping her hands. Jake smiled, shook his head, and took her next door for ice cream.
Elizabeth followed Ezra through the long narrow room and into a small corner office with glass sides reaching halfway to the ceiling. Lloyd’s office. Her office now, she reminded herself.
It was also their telegraph office. When the key started clicking, receiving a message, a buzzer went off in the main office. This was how they got the latest news from other parts of the country.
A counter ran the length of one wall. On it sat typewriters and a typesetting machine, with a printing press set up at its end. A large table with rollers and heavy mats had been placed in the center of the room.
Elizabeth grinned when a telephone jangled two short and one long ring. Lloyd, open to new inventions, had insisted on telephones as soon as they were available. She saw several in the office. He didn’t want his reporters having to chase down some fact in a story that could be verified by telephone. As a result, the stories in the Examiner came together quicker.
Before she finished at the newspaper office, she called everyone together and asked them for suggestions on an edition about Mexico—everything from political instability and the threats of General Diego to forging better relations between Juarez on one side of the Rio Grande and El Paso on the other.
“What would you think if we hired a Mexican reporter from Juarez?” she asked.
The surprised stares on the men’s faces changed to approval and chuckles.
Ezra rubbed his hands together. “How about a column in the Examiner inviting applications?”
“Perfect, Ezra. Let’s do that. And when the time comes to choose, we will decide together,” she said.
“You know, I was worried about the paper with Lloyd gone,” Ezra said. “I’m not anymore. We’re going to be just fine.”
“Shhh, stop kicking me,” a deep voice said in the outer office. “Your aunt is busy now. She’ll be out in a minute.”
“Aunt ’Lithabeth, Aunt ’Lithabeth, I want in there with you. Make him put me down!” Ruthie called.
Elizabeth laughed and stood up. “Gentlemen, I must go for now. I think one Texas Ranger has finally met his match.”
Camp Annex
Jake yawned and rubbed his face with both hands, rasping the bristles on his jaw. He still wasn’t caught up. His desk was littered with papers: Ranger evaluations, schedules, weekly reports.
Six hours in a saddle didn’t faze him, but six hours at a desk kinked every muscle he had. He leaned back in his chair and rolled his shoulders to loosen them.
And ferrying Elizabeth around—when she so obviously thought it unnecessary—didn’t help any. But her father had explained the situation to her. She argued with Jake, but she didn’t argue with him.
“Like it or not, this man,” her father had said, pointing to Jake, “is your bodyguard. Those are my wishes, Elizabeth. And fortunately, he and Colonel Gordon concur. When Jake isn’t available, someone else will take his place. It’s not permanent, so do what you can to help these men keep you alive.”
Taking her into town this afternoon had gone well. She hadn’t protested once. Either Jake was doing something right or Elizabeth was simply getting used to it.
Or figuring out ways to get around all of them and do as she pleased.
No, that wasn’t fair to her. She’d deal with it, and deal with him, up front.
Even though the Army and the Rangers considered it work, he liked spending time with her. A couple of mornings when she needed to finish up an article for the paper, like the one on military medicine, he and Gus took her to the hospital for breakfast with Suzanne.
Gus had added a personal touch to that article, and Elizabeth included his remarks that Fort Bliss was fortunate to have a good Army surgeon and dedicated nurses on staff. That article was forwarded by Colonel Gordon to Army headquarters.
At a light tapping on the door, he raised his head and called, “Come in.”
When the door opened, he smiled and sprang to his feet. Hand outstretched, he crossed the room quickly and greeted his Gypsy friend Laszlo.
“Any trouble getting here?” Jake asked.
Laszlo shook his head. “Only problem was getting past the guard at the entrance. And still he followed me right to your door.”
Jake pulled up a chair for Laszlo, then sat and faced him.
“Remember when I told you Gypsies have ways of finding things out?” Laszlo said.
“I remember very well, and I’m listening.”
“I knew you would, which is why I came.” Laszlo leaned forward, his eyes locked with Jake’s. “Diego is coming after our Hoopa lady.”
Jake dragged a hand down his face and rose from his chair. “From the day we got back, I’ve been afraid of that.” Standing by his desk, he looked at Laszlo. “How did you find this out?”
“One of my people cleans Diego’s office.”
“And?”
“He hears things.”
“What else?”
“There’s an old Gypsy saying that goes, ‘A little wine goes in, a little truth comes out.’ ”
Jake nodded. “I’ve heard that. What came out?”
“That Diego is getting very close to overthrowing Hector Guevara. However, he needs an angry response from the United States. He thinks taking Elizabeth again will bring that about. He also intends to increase the guerrilla attacks on Texas ranchers. Right now he’s at his camp, but I know where he goes to hide, if you want to go
after him.”
“If I could, I’d go tonight, but that’s a decision someone in my government has to make. I can’t just ride into Mexico and kidnap one of their generals and put him on trial. He’ll swear he’s innocent, deny everything. And the next thing I know, he’s free, and I’m in jail. As a result, Mexico and the United States would be at each other’s throats again.” Jake leaned forward. “It’s getting too late for you to start back. You had anything to eat lately?”
Laszlo shook his head. “Not since breakfast this morning. I was in a hurry.”
“Let’s go over to the fort. We’ll have a quick supper, and afterward we’ll share your information with some people I know. You’ve got contacts in Mexico that just might be useful to them.”
He owed this man. Laszlo had taken a big risk to get them out of Mexico and back to Texas. And now he’d come on his own to Texas to warn him of a threat to Elizabeth.
“We have plenty of beds here at the Annex. Later, you’re welcome to stay the night with us.”
Laszlo’s dark eyes lit up. “You mean it? Here, in the Ranger camp?”
Jake nodded.
Laszlo smiled. “I’d like that very much. You make this poor Gypsy feel important.”
Laszlo was important. He had no idea how important.
“Let’s go eat,” Jake said.
The Officers’ Club was on a side street, down two doors from the commissary, and well away from the living quarters for both officers and the men.
“How about a drink first?” Jake said, sliding onto a high-backed stool at the bar. “A sarsaparilla for me,” he said to the bartender.
Laszlo nodded at the bartender. “I’ll have a beer.”
Through the double doors leading from the bar to the dining room, Jake watched officers and their families lining up at the buffet table for Beef and Beer Night. Though the food was casual, fresh flowers and white tablecloths were the order of the day. Pride and a certain elegance was unmistakable. Even the greeter at the door wore a suit and tie, and bowed as the officers entered.
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