“Sorry, Jake,” she said, then pushed him over the edge.
Like a log, he rolled down the bank, gaining momentum until he splashed into the creek. And sank.
He wasn’t supposed to sink!
She grabbed up her skirt and leaped, landing hard on her backside, and slid the rest of the way down, her skirt riding halfway to her middle.
She jumped into the creek and dove down, following the air bubbles. She found an arm, pushed off the bottom and shot for the surface, pulling him up with her. When his head broke the surface, his eyes were still closed.
Creek water poured down his face.
Bobbing beside him, she fished a foot down, feeling for the bottom. The creek was surprisingly deep and cold. Holding Jake, she pushed away from the bank and looked for a place to hide. A short distance away was a tall patch of bulrushes.
“Good enough for Moses, good enough for you,” she muttered to him.
Both of them would be hidden and out of sight, especially with night coming. But big as he was and completely dressed, he was weighing her down. Her wet skirt had tangled around her legs. She had to push to keep her own face out of the water.
With hardly a ripple she rolled onto her side, her left arm around his chest, towing him, and keeping that blond head of his out of the water.
He groaned a deep, breathy sound she could feel in his chest.
“It’s all right, Jake. Stop squirming. I’ve got you. Don’t fight me or we’ll both go down.”
“God . . . help me,” he whispered, as though just realizing where he was. He raised his chin, panic in his eyes.
Quickly so as not to tip off the Mexicans, she lowered her face and kissed him full on the mouth, shutting off any sound from him. Under her mouth, his eyes opened wide.
She slid her mouth sideways a fraction. “Shhh, they’re back. I hear them up there. Don’t make a sound. If they find us, they’ll kill us both. Understand me?”
He nodded. “Yes, but—”
Her mouth covered his again.
She bent the stiff green stalks aside and peered through, swimming and working deeper into the rushes. She shifted Jake around in her arms and hugged him tight, wondering if he was going to die and how she could live with herself if he did.
She fisted a handful of rushes and wrapped a leg around the stalks, floating upright in the water and holding Jake against her. He couldn’t reach bottom, either. The creek was over their heads.
Her breath caught when shots rang out, followed by curses and shouts coming from the top of the bank.
A loud, deep voice yelled, “Hold it right there, General. One move and you’re dead. Under the laws of the state of Texas, you are under arrest.”
It was Gus! Thank you, God.
“Gus!” she called. “Jake’s down here in the creek with me. Please, help us. Jake is hurt.”
There was a long pause. “I don’t see you.”
“Off to your right, in the creek. Hold on a minute. We’ll swim out so you can see us.”
“Jake can’t swim.”
She made a face. “I know that now.”
“If I throw you a rope, can you tie it under his arms?”
“Yes. But hurry. He needs a doctor.”
As soon as the men hauled her up the bank, she ran to Jake and fell on her knees beside him, feeling his throat for a pulse. He’d passed out again. She stood and looked at the men. “He’s unconscious. Get a wagon and take him to Fort Bliss. And please hurry.”
The Rangers had General Diego and Major Chavez handcuffed, legs bound. Three Rangers held Colts on them.
Both the sheriff and his deputy were there, getting ready to take the prisoners to the jail in El Paso.
Gus approached the sheriff. “These men are accused of both state and Federal crimes, Sheriff,” he said. “The last thing this town needs is a company of angry Mexican troops invading to reclaim their general. I think everyone would feel safer—you included—if we get these men out of El Paso at once. Until we get the jurisdictions settled, they belong in the stockade at Fort Bliss.”
Glass jingled behind her. Elizabeth spun around. An Army medic, wheeling a rubber-tired cart past the Fort Bliss Emergency Room, met her startled look with a sympathetic smile. Elizabeth swallowed. The smell of disinfectant clung in the back of her throat. She hated hospitals, needles, the hushed voices. And the white silence turned her insides to jelly.
She slumped onto the bench again with Gus and Fred. Time and again, they got up and walked with her when she went outside and stood under the portico of the large masonry building. She looked up and down the street that led to the parade grounds at the end of the block.
“Relax,” Gus said. “There’s nothing to worry about. Jake’s safe. You’re safe. There are guards at the gate, and sentries patrol everywhere else. No one gets onto this post without permission.”
A young doctor in a white surgical coat sat down beside her. “Captain Nelson has been examined and is resting now in a room upstairs. He has a deep cut on the back of his head, and as near as we can tell, he’s suffered a concussion. We’re going to keep him here and observe him for a few days. Just a precaution. He should be fine in a week or so.”
He smiled and patted her shoulder. “He’s in Room 224. Go on upstairs and see him.”
Elizabeth got to her feet.
“Doctor, I’m soaked. We jumped into the creek to get away. Can I possibly borrow something dry until tomorrow?” When he hesitated, she added, “I’m Elizabeth Evans, Senator Madison’s daughter. My father and I are living temporarily on post. I’ll see they’re laundered and returned to the hospital tomorrow.”
“Of course. I’ll let someone know right away.”
Elizabeth blew out a breath, relieved. She intended to stay in Jake’s room. She asked no one. She simply went.
Usually she never mentioned her father, but this time his name and position helped. If necessary, she’d throw it around. She intended to stay in Jake’s room all night, and if they didn’t like it, well, she’d deal with that when it came up.
“I’m going to sit in his room with him,” she said to the doctor and Gus.
Gus nodded. “And I’ll sit outside the door.”
“I thought you told me a minute ago there was nothing to worry about.”
“I intend to make sure of it.”
Elizabeth didn’t want Jake waking up alone in a strange place. Bad enough to have a cracked head. He didn’t need to worry about where he was in the middle of the night.
Jake spread a hand across the back of his head and frowned. Bandaged. A deep, dull pain shoved at the back of his eyes. He was in a high, narrow bed with metal sides.
A hospital?
Slowly he turned his head toward the only light in the room—a wall lamp, the gas turned down low.
Barefooted, wearing a pair of baggy Army trousers and a khaki shirt, Elizabeth was dozing in a chair in the corner, her legs drawn up under her. Her dark hair had fallen over one cheek, giving her an innocent, girlish look. Lifting her head, she got out of the chair and hurried over to the bed.
Bits and pieces came back to him: the fight with Diego, getting struck from behind, then rolling out of control down the creek bank. And cold water filling his ears, his nose. He shuddered. He’d never forget that feeling. Never.
“You pushed me into the water,” he whispered.
She smiled down at him. “You remember that, do you?”
“But not much more . . . How did I get here?”
“In a caravan of noisy wagons, with half of El Paso’s horses and buggies trailing behind. It was an interesting ride. Now go back to sleep.”
He glanced at Elizabeth again. She’d kissed him in the water to shut him up—like a soft punch in the mouth. Nothing romantic about that kiss. The more he thought about it, the more he didn’t like it.
As if she read his mind, she leaned down and kissed him softly on the lips.
“See you in the morning,” she said.
> “That’s better,” he said, sighing and closing his eyes. A gray fog folded around him and he drifted off to sleep, happy to be watched over.
For the next two weeks, his Rangers and Elizabeth made Jake take it easy. Since he couldn’t do much else, she insisted that he, and any other non-swimming Ranger, learn how to swim.
Reluctantly he gave in, but only after dragging four of his ten-man Ranger crew out to the water with him.
“I’ll help you,” Gus said to one of the men, striding around the little pond at the far end of Fort Bliss. It wasn’t over anyone’s head except in the middle.
Elizabeth had found a swimming outfit in town, ugly to be sure, but at least she could swim in it. It had bloomers down below her knees, stockings, and a long ruffled tunic over it.
The men swam in simple trousers and a shirt.
The first day, Elizabeth showed them breathing positions and how to move their arms. Five large, well-muscled men stepped into the pond and did the swimming exercises, silent and sullen at first. But soon their embarrassment wore off.
The next day, she and Gus each took a learner deeper into the pond and made him lie on the water. Gus held them up while Elizabeth coached them about how to relax.
Watching from the bank, Jake called out encouragement. “Hey, listen to her. She knows what she’s talking about. I’m here to prove it.”
By the end of the week, almost all of the men were getting the hang of it, learning well the basic strokes. Elizabeth, pleased by their progress, let them know they were now swimmers. Together they clapped to their success.
“It seems they have lost their fear of it,” Elizabeth announced that evening to Jake. To celebrate the fact, she had a little party at her house for everyone.
Jake, she thought, was hopeless. He was one of those heavy-boned men who did not float easily. He sank.
The fort’s small two-seater buggy Jake had access to was waiting out front when Elizabeth left the newspaper office the following evening. If he wasn’t tied up with work, he always came for her. If he couldn’t get away, he sent another Ranger in his place.
When he saw her coming, a smile broke out across his face. He put away the paper he was reading, reached for her hand, and helped her into the buggy.
“How’d it go today?” he asked.
“Gets better all the time. People are giving me items for the paper. The Presbyterian minister even stopped by and gave me a list of the Women’s Benevolence Club meetings. Someday I’ll write a piece about it.”
She smoothed her blue-striped skirt over her knees and looked up. “He said we have three fatherless families in town. I didn’t know that.”
“Neither did I,” Jake said. “The number’s gone up. I knew about two. Every week there’s a fight or a shooting in town. We need a bigger jail. The sheriff is short on men and jail space. He’s county. We need a city police force. The less serious ones, he lets out on bail—has to—until their court dates come up. He only jails a shooter if it’s a killing. Otherwise, bail or no bail, they take off.”
“Lloyd once said the town is growing too fast.”
“He was right about that, but how do you slow it down? And why would you want to? El Paso has a great future ahead of it. That’s why they put us here. Ordinarily Rangers go in only when there’s trouble. But I’ve got Rangers walking El Paso streets as a deterrent. Bad enough with our homegrown outlaws, but Mexican crimes are increasing all the time. Bandits pour over the border and steal whatever they get their hands on. Mexico’s trying to help, but we have to get tougher ourselves.”
Elizabeth’s eyebrows drew together. El Paso was up to ten thousand people now, ninety percent of them having arrived in the last two years. They came with the four railroads. Opportunities for everyone, thieves and outlaws included. Jake didn’t want her out on the street after dark.
He flicked the reins, urging the horse faster. “It’s worse than you think,” he said. “There are saloons and gambling parlors on every street. Every street! Town needs a proper police force.”
“Maybe you should talk to the city council.”
“I’m thinking about it.”
She twisted around in her seat. “While you’re thinking about it, think about stopping by Bailey’s General Store on our way back to the fort, and I’ll set up a time to talk to Tim Bailey. His wife came into my office today to tell me about some new butter thing with peanuts that people are going giddy over in Austin and back East. She thinks it’ll make a great article for the new Homemaker Hints page I’m running in the women’s section.” Elizabeth laughed. “Of course, Tim Bailey is going to stock it, so it’s good advertising for him.”
Bailey’s, one of the largest and most prosperous stores in El Paso, was located farther down Main Street than most of the other shops. It was a stand-alone building with lots of buggy space on each side.
Jake pulled up to the store, then jumped down and walked around to help Elizabeth out of the buggy.
Elizabeth looked up at him. “This morning, you said your icebox had three eggs, two biscuits, and a bottle of milk in it.”
“Which is why I took you and Ruthie out for breakfast.”
She gave an unladylike sniff. “Sure, to the post cafeteria—and I paid.”
He laughed. “I told you. I forgot my wallet.”
At the entrance, he braced the front door open with his shoulder for her and then followed her into the store, past a large pyramid display of canned fruits and vegetables.
Jake chuckled. “Tomorrow I promise I’ll go shop for food. . . .” His voice trailed off.
Behind the counter, a white-faced Tim Bailey scooped a handful of bills from the register. Eyes wide, he pushed the money across the counter to a customer, a bearlike man with his back to the door. At the sound of voices, the huge man spun around.
Gun!
Jake exploded into a blur, racing for the counter. A jump, a flying kick, and the pistol was shoved upward an instant before flame burst from its muzzle. The glass in the front door they’d entered just seconds before blew out from the shot. A second shot hit the display of canned tomatoes, showering red pulp everywhere.
Elizabeth screamed. The display toppled to the floor, cans rolling in every direction.
The heavy pistol hit the floor and slid down the dry goods aisle. The gunman lunged at Jake, who twisted out of the way just in time. Jake ran to a nearby rack of spades and shovels, grabbed one, swung around and struck the man across the face as he was about to throw a fist. The man went down with a thud.
Jake stood over him, the shovel ready for another blow.
“Elizabeth, are you all right?”
“I think so, Jake . . . yes.”
A quick glance confirmed it—she was all right. Jake let out a sigh of relief.
Flat on his back and dazed, the big man rose up on one elbow. Blood dribbled from his mouth. “You busted my jaw,” he muttered, the words slurred.
Jake had held back because Elizabeth was there. She looked stunned by the scene before her. The last thing he wanted was for her to see him kill someone. He regretted she’d seen him do this much. But if one of those shots had hit her . . . He threw down the shovel.
The man turned his head and spat blood. “I’ll kill you for this, mister. I don’t care who you are. I’ll kill you.”
Jake jumped on the man then, slammed his face against the wood floor. He leaned down, pressed his mouth against the man’s ear, and whispered, “Do that again, I break your neck.”
Wide-eyed, the man stared at Jake, a confused expression on his face. “Who are you, anyway?” he groaned.
“Just your luck, I’m a Texas Ranger.”
Elizabeth watched from the end of the counter, the shock beginning to fade. To Jake’s surprise, she’d already gone after the gun. Legs spread, arms stiff, she held it straight out in both hands, pointing it at the robber.
Strong woman. She was an ex-Army wife, and it showed. Wouldn’t she hate to hear that?
“
Be careful with that thing,” Jake said. “Don’t shoot me by mistake.”
Keeping her eyes riveted on the robber, she clipped the words out, “I know how to use it, and I will if I have to.”
Her face and hair were wet with pieces of tomato. Jake swallowed. An icy tightness gripped his chest. She’d been that close to the bullet strike.
Jake nodded. “If he gets away from me and comes at you, fire and keep firing till he goes down.” He turned to Tim Bailey, who stood behind the counter, speechless. “Call the sheriff, sir.”
Bailey darted around the counter and out onto the sidewalk, hollering for help, yelling for the sheriff. Two male bystanders rushed into the store.
“Stay out!” Jake shouted.
“They’re going after the sheriff now,” Bailey said, panting. “Thank you, Jake. You saved my life.”
When they’d finished with Sheriff Morgan, Jake led Elizabeth to the buggy, helped her in, and shut the door behind her.
“That took forever,” he said, slapping the reins.
Giving statements and completing paper work for the authorities took longer because the Frontier Battalion was involved and would want their statements. So would Fort Bliss.
A small crowd of onlookers stared and whispered among themselves in front of the store as Jake and Elizabeth pulled out into the street, leaving them behind.
The corners of his mouth dug in. He gave a long, grunting stretch. He was tired and his leg ached from hitting the floor with the gunman. He reached across the seat and took Elizabeth’s hand, winding his fingers through hers. Her face was a chalky mask, and the small hand in his felt like a chunk of ice. “You look as washed out as I feel,” he said.
“Everything happened so fast.” She turned in her seat and stared at him. “You could easily have killed that man in the store, but you didn’t.”
She didn’t miss a thing. “Wasn’t necessary once I had him under control. It was better not to. I’m a Ranger and he’s a civilian. And Mexican. That complicates things.”
River to Cross, A Page 19