Ranger's Revenge (Texas Ranger Jim Blawcyzk Book 7)

by James J. Griffin

"I didn't treat anyone for an abdominal wound, that's for certain," Dr. Vender said.

  "Of course not," Capt. Trumbull answered. "Those men wouldn't dare stop at any doctor around here. I'll send wires out immediately to see if any medico within twenty-five miles or so treated anyone who'd been gut-shot. I'll do the same with the undertakers, in case they handled anyone recently who'd died from a bullet wound."

  "It would be highly unlikely for anyone with a .45 slug in his intestines to be able to ride very far," said Dr. Vender.

  "If Charlie shot that hombre plumb center like he says then he's dead," Jim said. "His pards probably buried him someplace where the grave wouldn't be found that easy."

  "You're probably right," Capt. Trumbull agreed, "but we have to be sure."

  "Before you go, Charlie got a pretty good description of the horses those hombres rode, too." Jim added.

  That's good," Capt. Trumbull answered. "I can put that out also. I'll get right on it."

  "And once Charlie's given you what you need you'll have to leave, Captain," Dr. Vender ordered. "The boy's already done too much. He only regained consciousness a couple of hours ago. He still needs plenty of rest."

  He taped the last strip of bandage to Charlie's chest.

  "I'm done here, Charlie. You've been a fine patient, not at all like your dad. Now you can tell the captain about those horses."

  Charlie provided his description of the raiders' mounts.

  "Good job, son. This might just help a lot," Capt. Trumbull praised Charlie.

  "And now I have to insist you leave, Captain. I know Jim only too well. He'll keep you here half the day if I let him."

  "All right," Capt. Trumbull said. "Jim, don't fret. We'll find those renegades, and when we do they'll be brought to justice. In the meantime you and your boy rest so you can both get back in the saddle as quick as possible. I'll be back to visit you the day after tomorrow."

  "Adios, Cap'n."

  "Adios, Jim, Charlie," Capt. Trumbull replied. "And Charlie, keep your dad in line for me, will you?"

  "You can count on me, Captain Trumbull."

  Once the captain left, Dr. Vender gave his patients one last going over. "You're both doing fine," he said, "but I want the two of you to try and sleep some more, Charlie, I'm going to give you just a bit of laudanum to help ease your pain. Jim, I don't think you'll need any more at this point. I know you prefer not to take it anyway, and I don't want to chance your becoming addicted." Dr. Vender put the top on the bottle of laudanum. "I'll be back to look in on you later, and I'll have Jane bring a bit of supper for you then. In the meantime is there anything else you need?"

  "Doctor Vender, when can I see my mom?" Charlie asked.

  "Perhaps tomorrow if you feel up to it, Charlie. That's why you need to rest some more."

  Charlie's eyes reflected his disappointment.

  "Doc, there is one thing you can get for me," Jim asked.

  "What's that?"

  "I could use a pencil and some paper. I want to jot down a few notes."

  "I'll send Jane right in with some." As soon as Dr. Vender left the room, Charlie leaned up on his elbow and called out to his father. "Dad?"

  "Yeah, Charlie?"

  "You're not gonna listen to Captain Trumbull, are you? You're goin' after those men who shot me and hurt Mom, and stole my horse."

  "That's right, Charlie. I couldn't live with myself if I didn't."

  "Good. I knew you would, Dad. I want you to. I know Mom would want you to also. No matter what happens."

  "Thanks, Charlie. Knowin' that makes my leavin' you and your mom behind while I go after those renegades a whole lot easier."

  "How soon are you leaving?"

  "Just before sunup, when I'm sure Dr. Vender will be asleep. I'll need to borrow his horse and buggy to get to our place. As soon as it's light enough, I'll search for any clues around our house then hit the trail. That'll give me a good start before Capt. Trumbull finds out I'm gone."

  "Dad, I'm startin' to get sleepy again."

  "That's the laudanum, plus you're still fightin' off the effects of that bullet," Jim pushed out of bed and stood at Charlie's side.

  "Charlie, I just want to tell you how proud I am of you, son. And don't worry. I'll be comin' home soon as I can. But I won't be back until I've run down every one of the hombres who shot you."

  "I know," Charlie murmured. As the drug took more effect, the boy looked at Jim's bullet-scarred upper torso and chuckled.

  "Guess I'm gonna have a bullet mark on me just like you, Dad."

  "Looks that way, Charlie." Jim forced a grin.

  "Good luck, Dad. I'll pray for you, every day."

  "Thanks, son."

  Jim tousled Charlie's hair.

  "I love you, Charlie."

  There was no response. The laudanum had done its work, and Charlie was fast asleep.

  Jim sat on the edge of his bed, taking pencil in hand. He smoothed a sheet of paper on the bed stand and wrote:

  My dearest Julia,

  I have never been able to find the right words to tell you how deeply I love you. Nothing will ever change how I feel about you. I want to be sure you know that, so I'm writing you this letter before I leave to do what I must do.

  I have to find the men who tried to destroy our family and make sure they pay for what they did to you and Charlie. I couldn't face you if I didn't do everything I could to track them down. I know you'll understand that I have no choice.

  Charlie is recovering fast and he's promised to help care for you until I return. You and he will be in my prayers every day. I am sure, with the Lord's help and Doctor Vender's care, you will soon be well. I will return to you as quickly as possible. Until then, I remain,

  Your loving and devoted husband Jim

  Jim looked over his letter, folded it, and set it aside. He stretched out on his bed, prayed and lay staring at the ceiling until sleep finally claimed him.

  About half an hour before the sun rose, Jim awakened. He slid into his clothes and boots and tucked his Colt into his waistband. As was his habit, he tousled Charlie's hair. He turned to leave, then turned back, leaned over, and kissed the sleeping boy's cheek.

  "I love you, Charlie. Take care of your mom for me."

  Jim slipped out of the room, closed the door, and crept into Julia's room. He placed his letter on the table by her bed and took her hand in his.

  "Julia, I love you. Never doubt that, and never forget that," he whispered.

  Jim fought back tears as he kissed Julia's lips. He sat alongside her for a few more moments and prayed for her recovery.

  "Julia, I have to leave now," he finally said.

  Without looking back, Jim got up, left the room, and quietly made his way from the house to the stable.

  "Easy, Bess, easy. That's a good girl." Jim's soft tones and gentle touch soothed the doctor's chestnut mare. He soon had her in harness. Moments later, he held the mare at a slow walk as she pulled Dr. Vender's buggy out of the yard. Once they had cleared the edge of town, Jim pushed her into a fast trot.

  Chapter 8

  Just below the top of the rise overlooking his JB Bar Ranch, Jim pulled the mare to a halt. He climbed out of the buggy and turned the horse back toward town.

  "I'm gonna leave you here, Bess, and walk the rest of the way. It wouldn't do for Jeff to see me usin' the doc's rig. You head back home, girl."

  Jim gave the mare a gentle slap on the rump. She'd taken a sleeping Dr. Vender home many times after he'd been up most of a night treating a severely ill patient or delivering a baby. Bess would be standing at her stall door within an hour.

  Jim stood for a moment on the top of the rise to gaze down at the JB Bar looking peaceful in its tranquil little valley. The ranches appearance was softened by the early morning mist, and smoke curled from the chimney. Evidently Jeff Timmons was cooking his breakfast. The bucolic scene belied any evidence of the recent violence. The only indication of something amiss was the lack of horses in the pastures a
nd corrals. But to Jim's great relief, Sam and Sizzle were still there, sharing a corral. Jeff Timmons' buckskin, Socks, was in the adjoining corral. The horses were munching their morning hay.

  Jim whistled and both of his horses jerked up their heads, ears pricked forward at the familiar sound. The geldings spotted him as he started down the hill and trotted up to the fence, whinnying a greeting. Jim hurried to the corral and ducked under the rails.

  "Whoa, easy there! Oof!"

  Jim grunted as Sam buried his muzzle in his belly, while Sizzle nuzzled at Jim's neck, both horses nickering a welcome. Jim scratched their ears and laughed.

  "How you boys doin'? Let me take a look at you."

  Jim examined both paints. Sizzle was in fine shape, the raw scrapes on his neck almost completely healed. "You look just fine, Siz," Jim said before turning to Sam. '"0l' pardner, I'm sure glad my bullet missed, I never thought I'd see you trottin' around again."

  Covered with thick scabs, Sam's bullet wounds were healing well. Jim ran his hands down Sam's left foreleg, stopping just above the ankle. He carefully felt the large lump apparent there. Sam flinched when Jim pressed on the swollen tissue.

  "I'm sorry, but I need to see you move out a bit, pal," Jim told the horse. He slapped Sam gently on the shoulder. The gelding snorted and trotted away, limping on that left leg. He turned and trotted back to Jim. Sam dropped his nose to Jim's hip pocket, begging for his customary treat.

  "Oh no you don't," Jim said laughing. "I'll get some peppermints for you in a while. They're in the house."

  Jim once again ran his hands over Sam's left leg. "Sam, I'm not gonna have to put you down, thank the Good Lord." He stroked Sam's neck. "But your days of helpin' me run down renegades and Comanche are over. That tendon's never gonna be the same. Looks like you'll spend the rest of your life bein' lazy, doin' nothing but eatin' grass and gettin' fat. I know you might not be happy about that, and I'm sure gonna miss havin' you under me, but you deserve the rest, ol' pard. And I wish I could spend some time with you before I leave, but I've got to get movin'."

  Jim turned back to Sizzle. "Soon as I gather up what I need, you and I are gonna hit the trail. And we won't be comin' back for a while, not until we run down the renegades who hurt you and Sam. I'd purely like to bring a couple of those hombres back for Sam to chomp on. Anyway, Siz, I guess you're gonna have to be a Ranger mount after all. Your career's startin' a bit sooner than I'd planned, but I know you'll give me your best.

  Jim gave both horses a final pat on their muzzles, then went to the house. He opened the front door and stepped into the kitchen.

  Jeff Timmons was at the stove. He whirled at the sound of footsteps behind him, yanking his Colt from its holster.

  "Hey! Careful, Jeff!" Jim shouted raising his hands shoulder high as Timmons leveled his six-gun at Jim's stomach. "It's me, Jim. I own this place, remember?"

  "Jim!" Jeff put up his gun. "Sure didn't expect to see you. I thought you were still at the doc's. And you should know better'n to sneak up on a man like that."

  Jim lowered his hands.

  "I reckon you're right. I just didn't think about it, bein' back home and all."

  "It's good to see you," Jeff said. "But what're you doin' here? Last I'd heard you were gonna be laid up for at least a couple more weeks."

  "Doc Vender said I could recuperate just as well here as at his place, so he let me go," Jim responded.

  "That is good news. What's the word on Julia and Charlie?"

  "Charlie seems to be doin' right well. He should be fine. The doc says Julia's gonna be fine too, but she's still in a coma."

  "I'll keep prayin' for them," Jeff promised.

  "I appreciate that."

  "Jim, I've got breakfast just about ready. You want some grub?"

  "Sure, sounds good."

  Jim glanced around the kitchen, which was spotlessly clean. Everything was back in place, the broken china gone. There was not a sign of the mess left by the attack on his wife.

  "Looks like you did a bang up job cleanin' around here, Jeff. And my horses look like they're healing up right nicely too. I surely appreciate what you've done. I'm kinda surprised Sam let you near him."

  "Thanks. It did take a while before Sam would trust me enough to even approach him. Far as the house, I couldn't leave it like it was. Only thing I wish is there'd been some clue left behind as to who did this. I went through everything with a fine toothed comb to make sure there wasn't somethin' we could have used." Jeff thumbed back his hat and ran his fingers through his sandy hair. "I found nothin'."

  "Not much we can do about that." Jim shrugged. "Jeff, where'd you put my gunbelt and Stetson?"

  "There wasn't much left of your hat. That bullet you took went clean through it. Plus it was blood and mud soaked, so sittin' in the sun for hours it shrank real bad. You'll need a new one. Far as your gunbelt, it's on the chest in your bedroom. Your Winchester's there too. While I've been watchin' your spread, I had time to replace the stock for you. That rifle's good as new."

  "I'm grateful for that," Jim said. "That gun's been with me for quite a while."

  "Least I could do," Jeff answered. He lifted the lid off the coffeepot. "Coffee's ready, and the bacon's just about done."

  "That's fine. Listen, I'm gonna get my gunbelt. I'll be right back for that chuck."

  "It'll be waitin' for you."

  Jim disappeared into his bedroom. He took his gunbelt from the chest and buckled it on, sliding his Peacemaker into the holster on his left hip. He grabbed some spare clothes from a drawer and laid them on the bed. That done, he placed his Winchester alongside the clothes.

  "I'm ready to dish everything out," Jeff said when Jim returned to the kitchen.

  "I'm afraid I don't have time to eat," Jim answered. "Drop your gun and get your hands up, Jeff."

  Jeff turned from the stove to see Jim, Colt in hand. The Peacemaker was leveled at Jeff's belt buckle.

  "Jim? What is this?" Jeff's brown eyes were wide with disbelief as he stared down the barrel of the gun aimed straight at his gut.

  "I said, unbuckle your gunbelt and drop your gun. The knife too. Then get your hands up. I won't ask you again."

  Jim thumbed back the hammer of his Peacemaker.

  "Guess I've got no choice."

  Jeff unbuckled his gunbelt, let it fall, and lifted his hands over his head.

  "You gonna tell me what this is all about?"

  "Cap'n Trumbull ordered me not to go after the men who attacked me and my family. I can't take those orders," Jim explained. "I'm headin' out after 'em right now."

  "You lied to me Jim. You weren't supposed to leave the doc's yet, were you?"

  "Right smart guess," Jim answered. "Now lie down on your belly."

  His gun still aimed at the young Ranger, Jim opened a drawer and removed a length of clothesline.

  "Jim, there's no need for this," Jeff protested.

  "Just get on your belly. Hands behind your back."

  Jeff stretched out on the floor and Jim began to tie his hands together.

  "Jim, I wouldn't stop you from goin' after those hombres" Jeff said. "In fact, I agree with you. You should go after 'em. I'd like to ride with you."

  "I can't take the chance you' re tellin' the truth," Jim answered. "Besides, this way you won't get into trouble with Cap'n Trumbull. You can tell him I got the drop on you and hogtied you."

  Jim finished tying Jeff's wrists, and then he wrapped a rope around the young Ranger's ankles.

  "I'm not tyin' you too tight. You'll be able to work yourself free in an hour or so," Jim said. "That'll give me enough time for the head start I need. And there's no one around to hear you shout, so I won't gag you."

  "Jim, you're makin' a big mistake," Jeff said.

  "Maybe so, but I have to do this." Jim checked Jeff's bonds one last time. "Jeff, you've been a good pard the times we've ridden together. I sure hope we can again someday. I'm real sorry I have to leave you like this, but I don't have any choice.
"

  "I reckon I understand, Jim. I still think you're makin' a mistake, but I won't hurry and tell the captain about this. It might take me a few hours to get myself untied. Maybe even all night." Jeff grinned. "Good luck."

  "I appreciate that, pard. Oh, and thanks for not puttin' up a fight. You know I never would've plugged you."

  Jim started back toward the bedroom to retrieve his clothes and Winchester. He stopped short at the sound of approaching hoof beats and glanced out the window to see Dan Huggins tying his blue roan to the rail.

  "Doggone it! I should've known there'd be a man along to relieve Timmons," Jim muttered.

  Dan Huggins stepped through the kitchen door. He had just enough time for a glimpse of Jeff lying tied up on the floor before Jim sank his fist deep into the young Ranger's belly. Dan grunted as all the air was driven from his lungs. He folded, and Jim smashed a second blow to the point of Dan's chin, straightening him. Dan never knew what hit him. He stood for a moment, eyes glazing, and toppled forward. Jim bent to catch him at the waist, letting the stunned Ranger fall across his shoulder. He carried him into the living room and dropped him face-up on the couch.

  "Looks like you'll be out for at least a couple of hours. Sorry, Dan," Jim spoke to the unconscious Ranger. "Sure hope your dad'll forgive me for doin' this to his boy."

  Jim had ridden with Dan's Ranger father, Sergeant Jim Huggins, on many assignments. Huggins had saved Jim's life on at least one occasion.

  Jim went back to the bedroom to pick up his spare clothes and his rifle. Returning to the kitchen he gulped a quick mug full of strong black coffee, then wrapped most of the breakfast Jeff had cooked in a kitchen towel. He also took a can down from a shelf, emptying its contents, peppermints, into his hip pocket. He checked the fire in the stove to make sure it was banked, so it would not overheat and set the kitchen ablaze.

  "Jeff, I'm leavin' some grub for you and Dan," he told Timmons. "It'll still be warm by the time you get yourself untied and Dan wakes up. I'm gonna turn your horse and Dan's out in the pasture with Sam."

  "I can't change your mind?"

  "Not a chance. I'm gonna catch up to those hombres, and they're gonna die with a bellyful of my lead in 'em. Bet a hat on it."