Texas Lucky

by Maggie James

  She was confused. They had talked about it many times during the long winter. She would go to a bank in Dallas and explain how the weather had taken its toll on her cattle and she needed a loan to get the remaining steers to market. The calves and cows would be cut out during roundup to keep the herd going. Things were going slower than she had hoped, but she was still optimistic.

  “Well, have you?” he persisted.

  “You know I plan to borrow the money.”

  “On what? Have you counted the steers you’ve got left, Tess?”

  “Why, no, I—”

  “I figure there’s five hundred or so. That means you lost near about fifteen hundred. Now, what bank is going to be stupid enough to loan you money to get five hundred head of cattle to market? It’s not worth it. What you need to do is sell what’s left to drovers and then give up.”

  “Give up?” She was aghast. The thought had never occurred to her, and for Buck, who knew how determined she was, to say such a thing was like hearing it from a stranger. “You know I’ll never do that,” she said hotly. “We can get them there—you and me. And if I can’t pay you while we’re on the trail, well, I’ll make it up to you when I sell the steers, and—”

  “You could sell them to Curt Hammond. He’d be willing to buy. He said so.”

  She leaped to her feet, knocking over her cup of coffee but not caring as she furiously cried, “You’ve been talking to him about me? About my problems? How could you do such a thing, Buck?”

  His face softened with the reality that perhaps he had gone too far. “Well, I was only trying to help. Every time I see him—at Gilley’s or sometimes on the range—he asks how you’re doing. I saw him in Dallas. Fact is, we had supper together. He was talking about his good luck this winter, and I remarked how he made me feel bad ’cause you’ve had such a time of it. The next thing I knew, it just all came spilling out.”

  Tess sank back in her chair and covered her face with her hands as she swung her head from side to side. “I don’t believe I am hearing this, Buck. You actually told him.”

  “He said he’d help any way he could.”

  She uncovered her eyes. “I don’t want his help,” she said firmly. “And I want you to promise me you will never discuss anything to do with this ranch with him again.”

  “Well…” he pushed his plate away, got up, and went to stand at the fire, back turned to her.

  She had to strain to hear his next words.

  “You’re gonna need somebody’s help, Tess, ’cause I’m leaving.”

  She would have rushed to him but did not trust her suddenly quaking knees to support her. “You can’t mean that.”

  He dug in his pocket and brought out a crumpled envelope and tossed it on the table before saying, “You know I can’t read too good, so I had to get somebody to read this to me.”

  Tess saw from the address it was from Katie, and, taking out the letter, she smoothed it with trembling fingers and began to read.

  With each word, her hands began to shake even more until she finally dropped the letter on the table, unable to continue.

  She had read enough, anyway, to know what was wrong with Buck and why he wanted to leave.

  Katie had written that she had decided she did not want to leave her family, after all. She still loved Buck and wanted to marry him, but he would have to prove he loved her, she said, by returning to Sante Fe and going to work for her father.

  “Are you really going to do it?” Tess asked tremulously.

  He whipped about to face her. “Hell, yes. And if you’re smart, you’ll give this place up, Tess.”

  “After one bad winter? I can’t stop you if you want to leave, but don’t attempt to ease your conscience by trying to make me quit.”

  “You’re just stubborn.”

  “If that were true, I wouldn’t even be here. I would not have become a rancher in the first place.”

  “I never understood why you did.”

  “Because…” She drew a ragged breath. “It’s beautiful. With all the work and hard times and bad weather, it’s still beautiful, and I love it.”

  She began to walk about the room, speaking more to herself than him.

  “I love to ride this land and know it’s mine. I love to smell the sage and listen to the mockingbirds. I’ve learned the names of the trees and the shrubs and the flowers. There are wild turkeys eating out of my hand, and I’ve got a horse that seems almost human sometimes, because he understands everything I say. It’s my world, and I’m not leaving it.

  “You, however…” She turned on him, but not in anger, for they had shared too much. “You have my blessings to go in peace, Buck. I know you love Katie, and I wish you every happiness.”

  “Oh, Lordy, honey…” He stumbled over to wrap his arms around her in a bear hug that left her breathless. “Don’t you know I don’t want to leave you? But I’ve loved Katie for so damned long, and I know she means it. If I don’t go back, she’ll never marry me.”

  Tess tried for a smile. “You don’t owe me an explanation, Buck. I’m just grateful you stuck by me as long as you did.”

  He held her hands as he searched her face for answers. “But what will you do? You don’t have any money left. We had to spend so much on feed, ’cause you didn’t have time to grow your own hay and corn. And it’s like I said, the bank won’t lend you money on a measly five hundred head of cattle. Maybe Curt Hammond will work out a deal for a percent of your profit if he drives your herd to market with his. It’s something to think about.”

  “It’s nothing to think about,” she snapped, drawing her hands from his and going to the table to clean up the mess from the coffee. “I’ll never ask him for help, and you, of all people, should understand why. You know as well as I do he’s been praying I’d go under, because he wants my land.

  “Well, it won’t happen,” she said with an angry swipe at the spill. “I’ll try to get those steers to market by myself before I ask for his help.

  “Maybe,” she went on, calming a bit as she thought about it, “I can ask George Petersen to give me a hand. You know he owns the Circle G south of here. I could even go on the drive, too, to help out. And maybe Perry will be here by then. I made sure to save enough money for his ticket. Next time I go into town, I’ll send it to him, too. It’s time he came on out here, anyway.”

  “I sure hope it works out for you, Tess. I sure do. Now I’ll go get your letter. Maybe it’ll make you feel better to read what he’s got to say.”

  He left and returned a short while later. Tess was eagerly waiting to snatch the envelope from his hand and tear it open.

  But once more, as she read, a chill spread from head to toe.

  Buck saw how she went pale and wanted to know what was wrong.

  Voice trembling, she read the heart-wrenching lines from her aunt.

  Tess,

  Thanks to you and your letters Perry has run away. No doubt he’s on his way to Texas to find you. I don’t care what happens to him or you, but if he makes it there you tell him if I ever see him again he’s going to jail for stealing money from me.

  Elmina

  Tess looked at the date on the letter and wailed, “She wrote this last November. That was nearly six months ago. He should have been here by now.”

  “Not necessarily,” Buck said. “He would have had to get from Pennsylvania to Chicago before taking a train, and that would have taken some doing that time of year.”

  He drew her back to the table and they both sat down as he continued to endeavor to allay her fears. “It’s probably just now about time he was getting here.”

  “But where would he go?” she fretted. “All he had was the address of the post office in Dallas.”

  “That’s enough. If he went there asking about you, surely somebody would tell him how to get here. Everybody there knows where your ranch is, Tess. Now stop worrying, because all you can do is wait till you hear from him.”

  “I can’t. Not till I make sure
those people there know exactly what to tell him. And what if he doesn’t have any money? I remember I was almost broke when I got to Devil’s Eye, so I’m going to leave money for him to pay somebody to bring him here.

  “That’s what I’m going to do,” she rushed on excitedly. “In fact, I’m riding into Dallas tomorrow. You can come with…” she trailed off when she saw how he was looking at her with guilt, and she felt foreboding creep into her once again. “What is it, Buck?”

  He looked everywhere but at her. “I was planning on leaving tomorrow, Tess.”

  Feebly, sickly, she echoed, “Tomorrow? But—”

  “Katie sent her letter last fall, too. She hasn’t heard from me and is liable to think I’m not coming, so I best get started in the morning.”

  “Yes, I suppose you should,” she said quietly. “I’ll pack some food for you.”

  “You aren’t mad?” he dared ask. “That I’m not sticking around till after roundup? I mean, if I’m going, I might as well, and you can find somebody else, and—”

  But Tess was no longer listening.

  She was far too busy worrying about Perry and where he was…how he was.

  He would make it.

  He had to.

  Because he was all she had left in a world that suddenly seemed lonelier than ever before.

  Sanchina Durand got out of bed, but despite the cold did not reach for her robe.

  She was wearing a flannel gown, soft and clinging to accent her generous curves. She wanted Señor Hammond to feast on her wide hips and narrow waist that accented her very large breasts.

  During the day, as his cook and housekeeper, it was necessary to wear clothes that were hardly revealing, but it was night now…and she had waited long enough for Señor Hammond to feast on all that she had to offer.

  Never had he looked upon her as a man looks at a woman. His vaqueros, however, were a different story, Sanchina frowned to think as she brushed her long black hair. They were bufons—clowns—and it made her sick how they were always trying to get in her bed.

  Luke was the worst. He would find excuses to come to her kitchen and talk filthy, and once he had even pointed between his legs and told her to look and see how big she made him.

  But that was the first and only time—she smirked as she remembered—because she had slammed his crotch with a skillet and he had stumbled out, doubled over and bleating like a sick calf.

  She thought, also, of the times she had subtly tried to let Señor Hammond know he was welcome in her bed, but always he pretended not to grasp her meaning.

  Tonight all that would change, for she planned to do whatever was necessary to get him to make love to her.

  And, when he awoke in the morning after a night of unbridled passion, he would, of course, do the honorable thing—he would marry her, and she would never have to worry about anything again.

  Neither would her madre and padre and the rest of her familia. The Lucky 13 was a large ranch, and though it was new, Señor Hammond would make it grow, and there would be plenty of work for everyone.

  But security for her family was not altogether Sanchina’s purpose in seduction. Señor Hammond was also a very good-looking man with a hard-muscled body, and she wanted him.

  Dabbing on a bit of cologne and pinching her cheeks to make them rosy, Sanchina tugged the bodice of her gown down a little bit lower.

  She was ready.

  Opening the door, she tiptoed into the hallway leading from her room off the kitchen to the big room at the front of the house.

  She could see the soft glow from the fireplace and how Señor Hammond was sprawled on the sofa, an empty whiskey glass at his side.

  She had seen him that way many times and would pull off his boots, tuck a blanket around him, then leave him.

  But not this night.

  She knelt beside him and unbuttoned his shirt and began to dance her fingers across his chest.

  He stirred, and she dipped her hand lower while moving to gently blow her warm breath against his ear.

  Boldly she touched his crotch.

  He shifted his weight a bit, his buttocks wriggling ever so slightly, and she was pleased to see the corners of his lips twitch as though he were about to break into a smile.

  She blew on his cheek and leaned to press her breasts against his chest. Her nipples were hard, and she moved so he could feel them.

  He moaned softly, and she felt the beginnings of his erection.

  His lips parted to whisper something she could not hear, and she leaned closer as a hot rush spread through her loins to think he was only pretending to be asleep to tease her. He was going to ask her to open his trousers to unleash his hardness, and—

  “Tess…”

  Sanchina’s fingers, already working on the buttons of his fly, froze.

  “Ahh, Tess…”

  Who the hell was Tess?

  And then it dawned.

  She had heard Pete and Caleb talking about the woman on the next range…and her name was Tess.

  Sanchina reeled backward, rage slapping her in the face.

  So now she knew the reason he had always spurned her.

  He lusted for the puta.

  Sanchina got to her feet and, with fists clenched at her sides, glared down at him, biting back the curses she longed to shriek.

  It would not, she was forced to acknowledge, be as easy to seduce him as she had hoped. He was enamored of another and she would have to work harder to make him want her.

  But it would happen, she vowed as she returned to her room, disgruntled and disappointed. She would make him want her…but not because his blood was already heated from drink.

  She would seduce him when he was sober, so he would know it was her he was making love to and feel obliged to wed.

  Not the puta known as Tess.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Tess and Buck stood outside the stable.

  “I reckon this is it,” Buck said around the lump in his throat. “I hope you know I don’t like leaving you like this.”

  Tess had difficulty swallowing as well. It was terrible to say good-bye, and it could not have come at a worse time. “I’ll miss you, Buck, but I understand how much you love Katie and want to marry her.”

  “I appreciate your writing all them letters to her for me in the past, but I’m gonna learn to write myself. And read, too. Then I can send you a letter and let you know how we’re doing, and you can write me back and tell me how you are.

  “And try not to worry about your brother,” he added. “He’s bound to have your grit, so he’ll turn up sooner or later.”

  She gave him one last hug, and he mounted his horse and rode away.

  She watched till he was out of sight, then turned toward the house. There were chores to be done before she could get away to Dallas to see if there was word of Perry.

  A short while later a rider came in—a man she had never seen before, but she was not frightened, not with a loaded rifle over the door that she knew how to use.

  “Miss Tess?” the rider tipped his hat to her before swinging down off his horse. “My name’s Jed Woolwright, and I work at the Circle G.”

  She shaded her eyes with her hand against the sun. “I’m pleased to meet you, Jep. Come on in. I think I can rustle up a slice of pie and a cup of bellywash.” She was proud of how she had picked up the western dialect.

  “I wish I had time, but I’m late gettin’ back to the ranch. Mr. Peterson was expecting me yesterday, but I had me a high ol’ time last night with some of the boys in town. He’s gonna be madder’n a wet prairie hen.

  “Stopped by to give you this, though.” He turned to unbuckle a saddlebag. “I had to go by the telegraph office to send something for the boss, and the dispatcher asked if I’d drop this off to you. Said it came in last night, and he figured you’d want it quick. Can’t tell you what it says, though, ’cause I can’t read, but Bo, the dispatcher, he said it had somethin’ to do with your brother, and—”

 
Tess snatched the paper from his hand as soon as he pulled it from the saddlebag.

  The telegram was, indeed, from Perry. He was stuck at a way station, did not have the money to make it the rest of the way, and would wait there till he heard from her.

  “Thank God you got it to me,” she exclaimed, relieved, “but tell me, do you know of a place called Alamedo?”

  He tugged at his mustache. “I think it’s just over the spot on the Shawnee Trail where the Cimarron River meets the Arkansas. Not much of a place. Just a stopover for stagecoaches running from Kansas City or Sedalia or St. Louis to Dallas.” He frowned. “It’s also smackdab in the middle of Indian territory, too, and I heard in town they’ve been having some trouble up that way. Renegade Apaches. The Army’s supposed to be sending out patrols to rout ’em out before the trail drives begin.

  “Say”—his eyes narrowed—“you ain’t thinkin’ about goin’ there, are you?”

  She held out the telegram, forgetting in her panic that he had said he could not read. “It’s from my brother. He’s at Alamedo. I have to go get him.”

  “Well, don’t look at me, lady. I’m a cowpuncher. Not no injun fighter. And right now”—he swung back up in the saddle and grabbed the reins—“I gotta get back before I ain’t got no job to get back to.”

  “Is there anyone at your ranch who’d be willing to go with me?” she called as he set the horse into a gallop.

  “No, ma’am,” he shouted back. “Ain’t nobody that crazy.”

  After hearing about the Indian trouble, she did not want Perry traveling by stage. An Army patrol needed to go after him, but she did not know how to go about arranging for that. If she had the money, she would hire armed guards and go after him herself.

  She began to pace about in front of the cabin, wringing her hands, because she did not know what to do.

  And then the idea struck her.

  She stopped pacing and turned toward the gentle crest to the east…toward the boundary of Curt Hammond’s land.

  He would know, and he would help. Hadn’t Buck told her to stop being stubborn? Well, she could sure do that when it came to her brother. She was willing to do anything, by God, to bring him to safety.