Lone Star Ranger #3

by James J. Griffin

  “You can’t help yourself, can you?” Nate said, laughing.

  “I have to admit I can’t,” Chuck said. “I try, but I just can’t seem to stop.”

  “That’s all right,” Nate said. “If your food tastes half as good as it smells, we can put up with the rhymin’.”

  “That, I can promise you,” Chuck answered. “How about a couple of nice, thick steaks, along with fried potatoes, black-eyed peas, homemade bread with fresh churned butter and molasses, and for dessert two slabs of apple pie?”

  “That sounds mighty good to me,” Hoot said. “Just don’t cook my steak too much. I’d like it so rare it’s almost still mooin’.”

  “Not me,” Nate said. “I want mine so done it’s almost burnt to a crisp.”

  “You got it, fellers. Comin’ right up.” Chuck disappeared into the kitchen. Hoot took a swallow of his coffee, then leaned back in his chair. He took out the makings, rolled a quirly, and lit it.

  “You really oughta try smokin’ again, Nate,” he said. “You didn’t give it much of a chance. And there ain’t nothin’ which goes quite as good with a fine cup of coffee like this one than a good smoke.”

  “I’ll leave the smokin’ to you, thanks just the same, Hoot,” Nate said. He also took a gulp of his coffee. “Boy, you’re right about the coffee, though. This is one fine brew.”

  There were two young cowboys, one about Nate’s age, the other close to Hoot’s, at the table next to theirs, already working on their supper. The older of the pair looked over at Nate and Hoot and gave them a friendly grin.

  “Howdy, fellers,” he said. “You from around these parts, or are you just passin’ through like we are? My name’s Matt, by the way. Matt Geyda. My pard’s handle is Jonathan Mulero.”

  “Howdy,” Jonathan added.

  “Howdy yourselves. I’m Hoot Harrison, and this here’s Nate Stewart.” Nate nodded. “Yeah, you might say we’re passin’ through,” Hoot continued. “We’ll only be in town for tonight. How about you boys?”

  “We’ll be headin’ out first thing in the mornin’,” Jonathan answered. “We ride for the Box QL ranch. The spread’s about sixty miles south of here. If you rode in from the east, you saw the herd we’re drivin’ north, bein’ held at the old mission. There’s two other ranches, the Triangle H and the J Bar J, on the drive with us. We’ve got a little more than a thousand head, all told.”

  “We did see ’em,” Nate confirmed.

  “They were a fine lookin’ bunch of cows,” Hoot added. “Most longhorns aren’t that chunky. They’re usually kind of rangy, and tough. Not a lot of meat on ’em. Yours look nice and fat.”

  “As long as they don’t stampede, and run a lot of the fat off ’em, they should bring a good price at the railhead,” Matt answered. “Hey, you two wouldn’t by any chance be lookin’ for work, would you? The boss is tryin’ to hire on a few more hands. We lost three men crossin’ the Llano River. It was in flood, and they got swept away and drowned. We lost about forty head, too.”

  Hoot shook his head. “Nope, we sure aren’t. Nate and I are with a company of Rangers, headin’ for the Big Bend country. There’s some tall trouble down that way, and we’ve gotta put a stop to it.”

  “You two seem awful young to be Rangers,” Jonathan said.

  “We’re older than we look,” Hoot replied. “And Nate, here, is still a probationary Ranger. It’ll be a while before he’s taken on as a regular.”

  “I needed to sign on with ’em,” Nate explained. “I had an older brother, who had the same name as yours, Jonathan. He was a fine cowboy. You would’ve liked him. We lived with our folks on a small ranch just outside San Saba… until a real bad bunch raided the spread.

  “They killed my ma, pa, and Jonathan. They also shot me, and left me for dead. But the Rangers found me, and patched me up. I thought I was gonna have to head back home to Delaware, but things turned out different. Besides, I can’t rest until I find the men who murdered my folks. They’re still out there, somewhere.”

  “They’ve murdered lots of others, besides Nate’s family, includin’ six of us Rangers,” Hoot added. “That’s why they’ve got to be run to ground, as soon as possible, before they kill even more folks. They’re a real dangerous outfit.”

  “Sounds like they’re a rough bunch to tangle with,” Matt said.

  “They are,” Hoot agreed, “but us Rangers are tougher. When we catch up to ’em again, they’ll find that out.”

  “Especially that pale-eyed, pasty skinned devil who leads the outfit. I’ve got a bullet with his name on it. Enough about them for now, though, Hoot. Here comes our supper,” Nate said. Chuck was returning, carrying a tray piled high with steaming hot food.

  “Here ya go, fellers,” he said. “Almost raw steak for you, Hoot, and one charred black for Nate. Plenty of spuds and peas, and a whole loaf of nice, warm bread, along with all the fixin’s. Nobody’ll ever be able to say they rode away from Chuck’s still hungry. I’ll bring another pot of coffee soon’s you finish that one.”

  “Thanks, Chuck,” Hoot said. He and Nate dug into their food. As Chuck had promised, everything was indeed tasty. The steaks were tender, the potatoes crispy, and the peas fresh from the garden patch behind the café. The bread was soft, and just warm enough so the butter melted into each piece. After they had finished the main portion, Chuck took their plates, then returned with two huge pieces of apple pie, along with yet another pot of coffee.

  “Was everything all right, fellers?” he asked.

  “Best grub I’ve had in a coon’s age,” Hoot answered.

  “You mean the best chuck you’ve had in a month of Sundays,” Nate said. “After all, this is Chuck’s chuck. And you don’t need a lot of pluck to try it.”

  “Aw, shucks,” Chuck said.

  “Well, at least no one here’s like an old hen. Didn’t hear anyone cluck about it,” Nate added.

  “Will the both of you just stop it?” Hoot said. “Or do I have to shoot the two of you? No jury would ever convict me if I did. Then I’d leave your sorry carcasses lyin’ in the muck.” He slapped his forehead. “Lord help me, now even I’m doin’ it. Chuck, hand over that pie.”

  “Of course.”

  Hoot and Nate took seconds on the pie, and finished up with final cups of coffee. Hoot rolled and smoked another quirly.

  “I see you’ve just about finished your supper,” Matt said. “We’re already done. Either of you have any plans for tonight?”

  “Not especially,” Nate answered. “We’re pullin’ out at sunup, so we’ll probably just head back to camp and turn in early.”

  “Before you do, why don’t you stick with me and Jonathan for awhile?” Matt suggested. “We can see what else there is to do in this town.”

  “I dunno,” Nate said. “What do you think, Hoot?”

  “It’s gonna be a long time before we see anythin’ resemblin’ civilization again,” Hoot answered. “I don’t see any harm in seein’ what this town has to offer. It’s still early, so we’ve got plenty of time to see the sights before we turn in.”

  “Then that’s settled,” Jonathan said. “Let’s pay ol’ Chuck and get on outta here.”

  ****

  “Which way do you think we should head?” Jonathan asked, once they left the café.

  “It don’t matter much, I guess,” Hoot answered. “Nate and I don’t know any more about Menardville than you fellers.” He glanced up and down the street. “Why don’t we just mosey our way down toward the saloons? That seems to be where most of the action’s at.”

  “Hold up just a minute, Hoot,” Nate said. “You ain’t plannin’ on gettin’ drunk again, are you? I’m not certain I’m ready to feel that bad again. I can still taste how dry my mouth was, and feel the poundin’ in my head. Just the thought of takin’ a drink has my guts churnin’ already.”

  “Nah, that’d be a real bad idea, especially with all these cowboys in town,” Hoot answered. “The last thing we’d need is to get drunk,
then get in a fight. That’d get us in Dutch with Cap’n Quincy for certain. I reckon we can wait a spell for our next taste of red-eye. I just want to see what some of the other fellers are up to. It’s too soon to turn in.”

  “Mebbe we can find a dance hall, and try dancin’ with some of the girls,” Matt suggested.

  “You know how to dance?” Hoot asked.

  “Nope. He sure doesn’t. He can’t dance worth a lick,” Jonathan answered. “Neither can I. But it seems like it might be fun.”

  “It sounds like a good idea to me,” Nate said. “Heck, I can’t dance, and I’d bet ol’ Hoot here can’t either, but I’d guess those girls could teach us a few steps. And I’ve heard some of those dance hall girls are awful pretty.”

  “Those gals at the Dusty Trail back in San Saba had you scared half to death, pard,” Hoot said.

  “Yeah, but that was different,” Nate answered. “We’ll just be dancin’ here, nothin’ else. At least, I don’t think so.”

  “I say let’s try it,” Matt said. “Can’t really hurt nothin’, just dancin’ with a gal.”

  The others voiced their agreement.

  “Which way do you think the closest dance hall might be?” Jonathan asked.

  “Probably the same direction we’re headin’, down by the saloons and gamblin’ parlors,” Hoot answered. “Most towns keep places like that in one section, away from the nice part of town. So-called respectable folks don’t want places where a man can have a good time too close to ’em.”

  “Then we’ll head that way,” Nate said. “We’ve talked long enough.” He started down the street, with the others hurrying to catch up.

  With several outfits in town, spending the night before resuming driving their herds north, the streets were crowded with cowboys and wranglers.

  The saloons, gambling dens, dance halls, and other places of entertainment were doing a booming business, packed with men out for a last night of celebration, since the next opportunity could be weeks, or even months, away.

  Not wanting to take even the slightest chance of stirring up trouble, Nate, Hoot, and their new found friends gave everyone who crossed their paths a wide berth. There was no telling what the slightest thing might be which would set off a drunken cowboy, and start a fistfight, or worse. Better to be safe than chance getting killed in a gunfight for no good reason, just because a drunk man decided to go for his gun.

  They had gone only about two blocks when Nate stopped so short that Matt, who was following close behind, ran right into him.

  “Nate, what’d you stop so quick for?” he asked.

  “Look!” Nate pointed to the window of the building next to them. A sign hanging just inside proclaimed the establishment as “Gramma Payne’s Bakery”.

  On display were all kinds of cakes, pies, and pastries. But what had caught Nate’s eye were several plates piled high with doughnuts, some plain, others dusted with powdered sugar.

  “Doughnuts!”

  “Yeah, so there’s doughnuts,” Matt said. “That don’t mean you have to stop so sudden-like I nearly broke my nose on the back of your thick skull. Lucky I didn’t break any of my teeth. My pa’s a dentist, and he sure would’ve given me what for if I’d come home with a mouthful of busted teeth.”

  “I’m sorry, Matt,” Nate said. His eyes were moist. “But my ma made the best sugared doughnuts in the world. In fact, she fried up a passel of ’em for breakfast the same day those raiders killed her. I can still taste ’em. I hadn’t thought about that since, but now that I see these doughnuts here, I’ve sure got a hankerin’ for some. You fellers mind if we stop here first, so I can buy a couple?”

  “Not at all,” Matt answered.

  “I wouldn’t mind a doughnut or two myself,” Jonathan added.

  “Nate, mebbe we can buy enough to take back for the rest of the boys,” Hoot suggested. “They’d appreciate that, for certain. Matt, mebbe you and Jonathan can buy some for the other men in your outfits, too.”

  “That’s a good idea,” Nate agreed. “In fact, we can buy some for the dance hall gals, too. Some fresh doughnuts might make ’em treat us extra special.”

  “I dunno,” Matt said. “Those gals probably want to keep their slim figgers. They might not want to chance eatin’ doughnuts.”

  “One or two won’t hurt ’em,” Hoot said.

  “Then let’s get ’em,” Nate said. He opened the door and stepped inside the bakery, with the others right behind him.

  “Howdy, boys,” the woman behind the counter greeted them. “I’m Maudie Payne, but everyone calls me Gramma. You’re in luck. I usually close up shop by three, but with so many men in town I baked extra, and stayed open late, figurin’ I’d get some extra business. I have, too. So, what can I do for you fellas?”

  The bakery owner was in her late fifties. She had gray hair, tied back in a bun, blue eyes, and a friendly smile. Her ample girth indicated she not only enjoyed making her baked goods, but sampling them, too. There was a spot of flour on the tip of her nose, and more flour dusted the red-checked gingham apron she wore.

  “We’d like some doughnuts,” Nate answered. “How much are they?”

  “You’re in luck. I just finished making them. Those doughnuts are so fresh they’re still warm. And they’re only a nickel apiece,” Gramma Payne said. “How many do you want? Two or three each?”

  “No, more than that,” Nate said. “We want to buy some to take back to our partners, also.”

  “I see. You boys are with one of the trail herds passin’ through town?”

  “Matt and Jonathan are,” Hoot explained. “Nate and I are with a company of Texas Rangers headed for the Big Bend. We’re camped for the night behind the livery stable.”

  “I thought I saw a couple of men wearin’ Ranger badges walk by a bit earlier,” Gramma said. “Guess I was right. Well, how many doughnuts do you think you’ll want?”

  “How many are there in the window?” Nate asked.

  “I made twelve dozen, and I’ve sold two of those, so there’s ten dozen left.”

  “We’ll take all of those,” Nate said.

  “All of them?” Gramma echoed. “That a hundred and twenty doughnuts.”

  “I know that. Matt, Jonathan, how many do you think you’ll need? Whatever you don’t take, Hoot and I’ll keep.”

  “I figure three dozen should be just about right for us,” Jonahan answered. “What do you think, Matt?”

  “Sounds good to me,” Matt answered.

  “That leaves seven dozen for us,” Nate said. “Miz Payne…”

  “Not Miz Payne… Gramma.”

  “Gramma, we’ll take two each to eat now. If you could wrap up the rest for us, that would be just fine.”

  “Certainly. That’s eighty-four doughnuts for you, so the total is four dollars and twenty cents. For your friends, their total is one dollar and eighty cents. And I’ll let you have two sugar cookies each. My treat.”

  “Thanks, Gramma.”

  The doughnuts were soon packed in several brown paper bags, which were secured at the top with string. Gramma Payne insisted the boys try one, and a sugar cookie, before she accepted their payment. All four agreed the cookies and doughnuts were the best they’d ever tasted. Nate had to admit they were even a bit better than his mother’s.

  “If you boys ever pass through Menardville again, you be sure and stop in now,” Gramma ordered.

  “We sure will. You can count on that,” Hoot answered.

  “Good. Now don’t y’all be eatin’ too many of those doughnuts at once,” Gramma warned. “You’ll give yourselves a real bellyache if you do.”

  “We won’t,” Matt assured her. “Muchas gracias, Gramma. Fellers, let’s go find those dance hall gals.”

  ****

  All four boys were in a jovial mood. They had full bellies, and were looking forward to a few hours in town before their hard work would resume at sunup, Nate and Hoot pushing west with the Rangers, Matt and Jonathan trailing the Box QL he
rd north for several hundred more miles.

  They meandered down the street, watching the passersby, looking into store windows, and munching on doughnuts. Their attention was drawn by a sudden commotion in the middle of the street.

  “Get away from us,” a woman screamed. “I told you we don’t want anything to do with you drunken, uncouth louts.” That was followed by a resounding slap across the face of the cowboy accosting her and her companion. There were five others with him.

  The two women were young, blonde, in their early twenties, and well-dressed. The face of the one who had slapped the cowboy’s cheek was set in furious lines. The other’s was flushed with embarrassment.

  “Now, honey, that weren’t at all nice,” the cowboy said. “All we wanted was a little kiss from you and your pretty friend there, and mebbe for y’all to have a little drink with us. Now, we’re gonna have to teach you a lesson.”

  He grabbed the woman and hugged her to him, kissing her roughly. Her struggles against his powerful grip were to no avail.

  “Nate, it seems like we’re gonna have to take a hand in this,” Hoot said. “Otherwise, there’s no tellin’ what might happen to those gals.” Without waiting for a reply, he dropped his sacks of doughnuts and stepped off the walk. When he reached the cowboy, he grabbed him by the shoulder and whirled him around. The surprised man loosened his grip on the woman, and she broke free.

  “The lady said she didn’t want to be bothered, mister,” Hoot said, his voice low and threatening. “So why don’t you just leave her alone? You and your friends go back to the saloon and get yourselves some more whiskey. I’m certain you’ll be able to find a gal there who’s willin’ to put up with your pawin’ at her.”

  “This ain’t any of your affair, sonny,” the cowboy sneered. “If I were you, I’d just back off, before you get hurt. There’s six of us, and one of you. Not that it’ll take any more’n me to put you in your place.”