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

by James J. Griffin

  Therese moved from table to table, here running her scarf over a man's shoulders, there placing a foot on a man's knee for just a moment, then removing it in a flash of perfectly formed calf.

  Faster and faster she danced, the accompaniment of the guitar growing more insistent, more demanding with each moment.

  The flamenco continued for what seemed an eternity. Therese was infatuation, obsession, forbidden. Every man in that saloon wanted her, yet every man knew, somehow, they could never have her.

  Therese finally reached the Rangers. The guitar and her castanets merged in one blazing crescendo, and then abruptly stopped. Therese threw herself on her back across Jim's lap, one arm around his neck. She stared into his eyes with a fiery passion, her ardor so intense it seemed to set his very being aflame. There was no sound except for the hushed breaths of the audience.

  Slowly, deliberately, Therese pulled Jim's head lower, pressing his lips to hers. She held him there, locked in a long, lingering kiss.

  Finally, she released him.

  "Gracias, mi Corazonl" she exclaimed, in a voice so tempting no man could resist.

  "De... de nada, Senorita" was all Jim could stammer out.

  Therese rose from the Ranger's lap, draped her scarf around his shoulders and pulled him to her, kissed him full on the lips once again, then, bowing to the audience, worked her way back to the stage. A moment later she disappeared, while wild applause, raucous whistles and catcalls rocked the saloon.

  Smoky waved his hand in front of Jim's face while his partner stared after the dancer. "Jim. You still breathin', pard?"

  "Yeah, Smoke," Jim half-whispered. His lips were smeared with Therese's lipstick. "How about Eric?"

  "Seems to be."

  Bill Handy walked up to the trio.

  "Well, what did you think of my dancer?"

  "Incredible," Smoky said.

  "Fantastic," Jim echoed.

  "What about you, son?" the saloonkeeper asked Eric.

  "She can't be real," Eric whispered.

  "I assure you she is. And she'll be back later for another performance."

  "We stayin' for that, Jim?" Smoky questioned.

  "We need to get an early start," Jim answered. "But I reckon we'll stick around here a bit longer."

  "In that case why don't we resume our card game?" said Piccirillo.

  "Not me. The cards just aren't fallin' for me tonight," Jim said. "But I'm sure my pards would like to play a bit more. I'll just watch."

  "Uh-uh. Me neither," Smoky added. "I'm just gonna head over to the bar and have a couple more drinks."

  "I reckon that leaves me," Eric said. "I wouldn't mind playing a bit longer."

  "Then let's get down to business," Piccirillo replied.

  Hank McCarthy and Don Strothers also resumed the game. After several hands Eric's luck had changed for the worse. He had lost all of his winnings, plus considerably more. The youngster became tenser with each lost pot. He was considerably relieved when he threw three like cards on the table.

  "Three jacks. Try and beat that," he said smiling.

  "Good cards, kid. But not good enough," Piccirillo answered. He tossed down three kings. "I win again."

  Eric leapt to his feet, knocking his chair over.

  "You cheated, Mister!" he yelled, and grabbed for his gun.

  The boy halted with his gun only half out of leather. A short-barreled revolver had slid from inside Piccirillo's shirtsleeve and appeared in his hand so quickly its movement was a blur. The gambler stood with the weapon pointed directly at Eric's nose, less than a foot away.

  "I didn't cheat. Go ahead and try for that gun of yours if you want to die right here, kid."

  Smoky had turned from the bar. Jim was half-out of his chair. Both Rangers were helpless, knowing there was no chance to stop Eric's death if he went for his six-gun.

  "All right. You win," Eric stuttered. "But I still say you're a cheat."

  "What you think doesn't matter to me. Just get out of here. And don't show your face in here again." Piccirillo slid the gun back in his sleeve and sat down.

  Jim glared at the gambler, his blue eyes cold and deadly. "Give the kid his money back," he said. "And don't try pullin' that sleeve gun on me, unless you want a slug in your guts. I knew you had a weapon on you somewhere, but I just couldn't figure out where. I've seen sleeve guns before, but sure couldn't spot yours. Right clever hidin' your pistol so well."

  Piccirillo snarled a vicious oath before he replied. "What'd you say, Ranger? I don't believe I heard you correctly."

  "You heard me all right. I dunno whether you cheated or not, but you took advantage of a boy here tonight, a boy who's had enough trouble over the past few weeks. Give him his money back or I take it out of your hide."

  Piccirillo stiffened, and then his face relaxed in an unctuous smile. "All right. I reckon it ain't worth takin' on a couple of Rangers for a few measly pesos. Here you go, kid."

  Piccirillo pulled a handful of coins and bills from his pocket and tossed them on the table. Eric gathered them up and stuffed the money in his shirt pocket.

  "I figure we've had enough excitement for the night. Let's get outta here," Jim said. Sweat was beading his forehead, and he was shivering. He turned toward the door.

  "Look out, Jim!" Eric shouted.

  Jim whirled and pulled his gun, too late. A bullet from Piccirillo's pistol put a hole through the loose fabric of his shirt as it burned between his side and upper arm. Jim's return shot shattered the gambler's right wrist. Piccirillo's short-barreled revolver spun from his hand.

  At the same time, Eric pulled his gun and fired twice, both his slugs tearing into Piccirillo's side, the first glancing off a rib to angle upward through his stomach, the second plowing through a lung and into his heart. The gambler took two tentative steps, eyes glazing. He muttered a curse, and fell onto the table. The table collapsed under his weight, chips, cards, and glasses scattering. Piccirillo rolled onto his back, sighed deeply, and shuddered. With one long gasp the life left him. Jim kicked the gun away from the gambler's body.

  Smoky rushed up to his partner. "Jim! You all right?"

  Jim glanced at the hole in the armpit of his shirt. "I'm okay. It was darn close, though."

  "Too dang close," said Smoky.

  "Thanks for savin' my hide, kid," Jim said to Eric.

  "He was gonna shoot you in the back. I couldn't let him," Eric replied. The boy was clearly upset at killing his first man.

  "I'm certainly glad." Jim shook his head. "I never expected him to try a stunt like that. Dunno what I was thinkin' turnin' my back on him."

  Jim reloaded his Peacemaker, slid it back in its holster, and pitched to his face.

  Jim awoke in a soft bed in an unfamiliar room. Someone had removed his shirt, bandanna, boots, socks, and gun belt. He opened his eyes to find Therese Marchitto gazing down at him. Worry showed in her dark eyes. Even in the dim light, scrubbed clean of makeup, she still was spectacular.

  "I must've been shot worse'n I thought." Jim grinned at the dancer. "Appears like I've died and gone to heaven."

  "You might wish so, but you are only in my bedroom," she softly replied.

  "You mean this ain't heaven, doggone it?" Jim grinned. "Sure seems like it. I am lookin' at an angel, after all."

  "Not at all, on both counts. And you haven't been shot at all, at least not tonight," Therese retorted.

  "Then what am I doing here? And where are my pardners?" "I heard the gunshots in the saloon. I came from my dressing room just as you fainted. I had you brought here," Therese explained.

  "Your partners were here, but they have gone for the night to get their rest. They will return later this morning."

  "But why'd you bring me here? You don't know me." "You are quite ill. The doctor here has no beds at his office.

  You would have had to stay at the hotel, which isn't fit for a swine.

  And there would have been no one to tend to you. So I brought you to my home and made
the doctor come here for his examination." "But since I wasn't shot what did he say is wrong with me?"

  "You have a fever. In addition, you have a bullet wound to your back that was partially healed, but has become infected. And you have quite a number of bruises on your body. The doctor says you need rest."

  "I can't," Jim protested. "I have to be on the trail at sunup."

  "You won't be going anywhere for at least two days," Therese answered.

  "I don't have one day to waste, let alone two."

  "You do not have any choice in the matter," Therese said. "There will be no traveling by anyone for at least a day or more in any event. It is storming—a rainstorm that promises to be a terrible deluge. Already the roads are becoming impassible."

  As if to emphasize the dancer's words, a rumble of thunder echoed through the room.

  "All right, say I am stuck here. That still doesn't explain why you brought me, a stranger, here to your place."

  "Do you think I chose you of all those men in the saloon by accident, Ranger? I assure you I did not."

  "How'd you know I'm a Ranger?" Jim demanded.

  "Bill Handy told me. He tells me everything."

  "I see. But that still doesn't explain why I'm here in your bed. Unless you've got cards you're not showin', you didn't pick me out of that crowd in the Frog Rock then take me home because I'm a Texas Ranger."

  "You're right. I chose you out of all those men because I love hombres with rubio hair and azul eyes." Therese laughed. "Of course, I never expected to have you as a guest in my home."

  "I have to admit I was pretty surprised when I woke up. I guess if I'm gonna be laid up for a couple of days I could do worse than here."

  "Is that supposed to be a compliment?"

  "It was, but I guess it didn't come out that way."

  "Then I shall take it for one," Therese answered. "Now, it is very early in the morning. You should get more rest. I'll brew some tea. That will help you sleep."

  "Please don't put yourself out, ma'am."

  "Ma'am?" Therese laughed. "I can't recall the last time someone called me 'ma'am'. That sounds so old. Please, my name is Therese. And it's no trouble at all to make tea for a handsome man. You just stay there. I will be back shortly."

  "Whatever you say... Therese. And my name's Jim."

  Therese went to the kitchen. Jim could hear her putting a kettle on the stove. Ten minutes later she returned with a silver tray holding a china teapot, two cups and saucers. She placed the tray on a bedside table.

  "I told you this wouldn't take long, Jim. Would you like sugar with your tea?"

  Jim sat up, pulling the covers to his chin to keep his naked upper torso covered. "Two lumps, please," he answered.

  Therese poured two cups full of the steaming liquid and passed one to the Ranger. Jim took a sip, then a good swallow. The tea spread soothing warmth through his worn-out body.

  "That does taste mighty good," he said smiling. "Thank you."

  "I told you so." Therese smiled back, her dazzling white teeth seemed to light up the room. "Jim, it would be much easier for you to balance your cup if you didn't attempt to keep holding those sheets up to your shoulders."

  "I always try to stay decent in the presence of a lady."

  "You needn't worry about that. Don't forget, I helped bring you here and get you undressed. There's nothing left to hide or to be ashamed of. Besides, you're still wearing your levis."

  Jim blushed, but did let the covers slide down to his waist.

  "That's better," Therese declared. "Once we finish our tea, I'll leave you to relax some more. Remember, the more you rest, the faster you will be able to resume your journey."

  "I reckon that's good advice."

  Jim drank two more cups of tea before he settled back with a sigh. As Therese had promised, he was again sleepy, his body suffused with a delicious warmth.

  "I think I'm gonna drift off again. Good night, Therese."

  "Good night, Jim."

  Therese leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, her hand brushing lightly against Jim's bare shoulder. "Sleep well."

  Jim spent most of the next day sleeping and regaining some of his strength. Smoky, Eric, and Sheriff Pierce stopped by for a brief visit, eating dinner with their recuperating compadre. The rainstorm continued, so intense it had even prevented Eric from completing his journey home.

  After they left, the town physician returned to check Jim once again. He pronounced the Ranger's fever rapidly falling, and declared him to be recovering far more quickly than he had expected.

  After supper Therese returned with a tray holding a pitcher of warm water, a basin, soap, washcloth, towel, bandages, and medicines.

  "It's time to redress and rebandage the wound to your back," she said to Jim. "I also have a poultice for your chest. Dr. Morris says that will help reduce your fever. And I thought you might like to wash up a bit. I can also find a razor if you'd like to shave. I could even trim your hair."

  Jim ran his hand over the thick blonde whiskers covering his jaw. "I reckon just washin' up'll do for now."

  Therese pulled the covers to the bottom of the bed. "Whatever you wish. We'll start with your back. Please turn onto your stomach."

  Jim complied, rolling onto his belly.

  "This is going to hurt a bit," Therese warned.

  Jim winced when she pulled the bandage from his back.

  "What I have to do now will probably feel even worse," she said.

  Jim jerked when Therese pressed hard on both sides of the bullet hole, expelling pus from the inflamed wound. The pus soon was replaced by blood. Therese dabbed a cloth to staunch the flow.

  "I know that was uncomfortable, but it had to be done," she explained. "That wound really is looking much better. It's draining quite well. I'll clean it thoroughly and wash your back before I replace the bandages."

  "It wasn't all that awful," Jim reassured her.

  "If you say so, Jim, but I know better."

  Therese took the washcloth, soaked it in the warm water and wet Jim's back. Taking the damp cloth and the bar of soap, she worked up lather, and then began gently scrubbing the Ranger's back.

  "You have a strong muscular back," she said as she worked her fingers down his backbone. "And a good, straight, spine."

  Jim shifted uncomfortably. His face was flushed, and not from any fever or infected bullet wound.

  Finished washing his back, Therese carefully dried it. "I'm going to redress and rebandage your injury now." It took her only a few moments to coat Jim's wound and cover it with a fresh bandage.

  "Now I need you to turn onto your back."

  Once again, Jim complied with her request. Despite himself, he found he was staring at the dancer. Trying to get his thoughts off the woman, he asked her the question he'd been pondering since she first picked him out of the crowded saloon.

  "Therese, you knew I was a Texas Ranger before I ever walked into the Frog Rock, didn't you?"

  "That's right," she admitted.

  "And that's the reason you chose me that night?"

  "Again, you are correct."

  "But why? And don't try and tell me it's just because you like men with blonde hair and blue eyes."

  "That's the only reason," Therese insisted.

  "I'm not convinced. Do you want to keep me from goin' after Reese Macklin? Were you ever his gal, or does he have some kind of claim on you?"

  Therese hesitated before replying.

  "Yes and no. Reese Macklin and I had some good times, but that's all. I found out what he was quite some time back. He beat me when I refused to let him have his way with me. When I threw him out, he threatened to kill me. I think later he realized if he ever hurt me the entire county would hunt him down. Besides, I carry this."

  Therese lifted her skirt, revealing her well-formed calf, and pulled a long, thin-bladed knife from her garter. Her dark eyes flashed with anger.

  "If Reese Macklin ever comes near me again, I will geld him." />
  "Ouch!" Jim winced. He managed a weak smile. "That still doesn't explain the Frog Rock."

  "I wanted to get your attention, in hopes to speak with you privately later that evening. Of course those plans were ruined by the gunfight."

  "Well, you've got your chance now."

  "I wanted to warn you about Reese. He's a very dangerous man."

  "I know that," Jim replied.

  "But you don't know he also has some powerful friends. Friends who have connections in Austin."

  "That doesn't matter. I'm going to hunt down Reese Macklin and his men. Pure and simple."

  "That is what I had hoped you would say," she replied. "Sheriff Pierce and your partner told me what Reese and his men did to your wife and boy, and that you had vowed revenge on them. Now I can tell you the truth. I want Reese Macklin gunned down like the cur he is."

  She leaned close and whispered. Her lips brushed Jim's cheek. "Will you do that for me, Lieutenant?"

  "You didn't need to bother going to all that trouble, not that it wasn't enjoyable," Jim answered. "Reese Macklin and the rest of his outfit are dead men."

  "That is what I wanted to hear. But please be careful. Reese thinks he is invincible because of his connections. And he will stop at nothing to get what he wants." Therese sighed. "Now please, let me finish bathing you before you catch your death of pneumonia."

  Therese took the washcloth and soap. She began lathering Jim's chest, running her hands through its covering of thick blonde hair.

  "You've been hurt quite a few times," she noted, referring to the scars Jim's body carried.

  "I reckon." Jim shrugged. "Comes with the territory."

  "Try to hold still," she asked.

  "I'll do my best," he answered.

  Despite his fierce loyalty to Julia, Jim was still a man, a man alone in a bedroom with a gorgeous woman. Regardless of his determination to remain faithful, his blood was racing and pulse pounding.

  "You need to lift your left arm just a bit," Therese requested. "You do have a slight bullet burn from Piccirillo's shot under it, and I need to make sure I clean that thoroughly. You don't want to have another wound become infected."

  Jim moved his arm away from his ribs. When Therese ran the washcloth over the bullet crease and under his armpit, he laughed involuntarily.