To Love a Texas Ranger

by Linda Broday

  Houston got to his feet to leave but stopped when Sam asked him to stay.

  Sam stood and pulled out Sierra’s seat. “I’ll join you on the porch in about thirty minutes.”

  “Certainly,” she murmured and slipped from the room.

  He leaned across the table and met Luke’s eyes. “We need to talk.”

  Weston released a low oath. “I can’t imagine what about.”

  “Can’t you? Come with me.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  “My brother would love to make our fight very uneven.”

  With a sardonic lift of his brow, Luke pushed back his chair. “Lead the way, amigo.”

  Sam pointed Weston to a small room containing a sofa and two chairs. Houston moved to a decanter, poured three glasses, and handed Weston one.

  “What do you have against my father?” Sam said.

  Luke pressed the glass to his cheek before slowly taking a sip. “Who says I have anything?”

  “You did,” Sam snapped. “The things you said on the trail. I can refresh your memory if you want. And I saw the way you stared at him tonight.”

  “Some have nothing, go to bed hungry and sick.” Luke’s eyes grew cold and hard. “Your father sits on his big fancy horse, surveying his kingdom with never a care for others.”

  “Shows how little you know. He gives anyone a job who wants to work, provides a doctor when they’re sick, and grieves over them when they die. He cares for their children and gives them an education. The people on this ranch are family. So before you judge him, you need to get your damn facts straight.” Sam downed the amber liquid that burned his throat and set down the glass. “Tonight, he invited a wanted man to sit at his table and fed him steak.”

  Houston dropped onto a chair, silently listening to the exchange. He glanced at Sam, lifting an eyebrow. Sam knew he thought he was crazy. Maybe he was.

  Luke sauntered to the window, staring into the black night. “Did you mean what you said about helping me?”

  “I’ve taken your measure and seen the kind of man you are. I wouldn’t stick my neck out for you if I didn’t think you were worth the risk.”

  “You’re a strange lawman, Sam Legend.”

  “Maybe. But I’ve always tried to be fair. A few times I lived to regret it.”

  “No one’s put much stock in anything I said before. This’ll take some getting used to.” Luke turned to face him. “I swear on my mother’s grave that I didn’t kill Judge Percival.”

  “I believe you.”

  “I can’t prove it.”

  “Someone has to know who did. If they exist, I’ll find them.” The stress of the day suddenly dropped over Sam. “I’m sure you’re beat. I’ll walk you to your quarters.”

  A short distance from the headquarters, Sam opened the door to a one-room dwelling and lit a lamp. “It’s not much, but it’s clean. You’ll find blankets in the trunk at the end of the bed. You’ll eat in the cook shack with the hired hands.”

  “It’ll do.” Luke flashed a quick grin. “Lots better than the one we took shelter in from the rain.”

  “Weston, I haven’t said as much, but I owe you my life. By all rights I shouldn’t be here.”

  “Goes both ways. Get some rest.” Luke stuck out his hand.

  Sam clasped it, giving a nod. The man who’d never known his father, who’d spent years being called a spawn of the devil, had become a friend. It would make his job harder; that was for damn sure. But trusting Luke Weston felt like it had cleansed a piece of Sam’s soul.

  Twenty-three

  Sam found Sierra waiting when he strolled onto the porch. He dropped heavily into the rocker next to her, relieved after his talk with Luke. Somehow, someway, he’d give Luke back his life, just as the outlaw had done for Sam. And then they would be even.

  “Sorry about the delay. Needed to talk to Luke.”

  “I hope everything’s all right. He’s a good man, Sam.”

  “Everything’s fine. I agree that he’s a good man. He just irritates me at times. I don’t know how to explain. It’s a thing between men.”

  Her brow wrinkled in thought. “Sort of like trying to prove who’s better?”

  “Exactly.”

  “I saw that in my brothers.” She smiled and leaned her head against the high-backed rocker. “Sam, it’s lovely here. If I owned this ranch, I’d never leave.”

  Moonlight bathed her beautiful face. Memories swirled like autumn leaves, bringing an ache that almost doubled Sam over. Firelight flickering on her hair—her shoulders bare. Their last kiss. When would he stop yearning for her? With great effort, he finally dragged his attention from her blue eyes and honeyed lips.

  “This land is in my blood, but not the same way it is for Houston or my father,” Sam admitted softly.

  Perhaps for the first time, he realized the words held truth. For Sam it was the beauty and the calm that he loved. Not cattle or turning a profit or the power that came with owning so much land.

  It was finding contentment after a trying time…or peace after a hanging that nearly took his life.

  The moon was just rising, and the fragrant smell of sage drifted in the breeze around him. Nowhere in all the state of Texas did the air smell so fresh and pure. The faint lowing of cattle blended with the tranquil night.

  “I’m glad you’re here, Sierra. I regret what happened between us last night. I was an ass. You didn’t deserve that.”

  “You’re a hard, complicated man, Sam Legend.” She stared into the darkness.

  Sam winced at the pain in her voice. “All the same, I’m truly sorry.” He was silent a moment, then added, “I’d like to send to Waco for your things.”

  Her eyes reminded him of the Texas sky, bright blue and filled with mystery.

  “No need. I intend to go back there to live. I just hope Mrs. Jones at the boardinghouse hasn’t thrown them out. I’m sure she’s wondering what’s happened to me.”

  “I’ll send her a telegraph and ask her to hold them.”

  “Thank you, Sam. What I have isn’t much, but I’d hate to lose it.”

  An awkward silence dragged as he searched for a way to change the conversation. Finally, he said, “Houston will be out shortly.”

  “You and he have lots to catch up on.” Sierra turned to face him, and he found hard lines around her set mouth. “I’m tired, and I have to collect Hector from Sofia. The boy asked to sleep in my room for a few days until he can get used to the strange sounds and people. Mrs. Ross brought in a small bed for him.”

  “Your soft spot for him shows the depth of your heart.”

  “He’s lonely and grieves for his mother—his family. Something I relate to.”

  Back to mothers. It’s where all roads seemed to lead.

  “You haven’t mentioned your mother. Is she with your father?”

  “No,” Sierra whispered. “She took her own life, and I’m to blame. Mama was unable to live with the pain of losing her daughter.”

  Funny, she’d never mentioned having a sister before. Curiosity made him want to ask, but he kept silent. He wasn’t certain she wanted to say more. Sam started to reach for her hand, only to think better of it. “Whatever happened, I’m sure it’s not your fault.”

  “You’re wrong. But nothing I can say or do now will bring them back.”

  “You might feel better getting it out. Despite being a donkey’s behind, I am a good listener.” Sam took a gamble. “At the river you said your father told you that everyone you touched died. Is this what you meant? Was Whitney your mother?”

  Sierra was silent for such a long time, and it was then that Sam knew silence could be a speech.

  What she didn’t say filled volumes. He was beginning to understand her angry declaration that he couldn’t fix her. Clearly, terrible secrets weighed on her. He fel
t the ache of her pain in his bones. Blame, self-loathing, fear. You name it.

  “No. You may as well know—Whitney was my twin sister. What I did was so shameful I can’t bear to think of it.” She raised her eyes to his. “The night before we reached the Brazos, I wasn’t entirely truthful.”

  “About your fear of water?”

  “I didn’t tell you how deep my cowardice goes. Whitney drowned two years ago…while I watched, helplessly frozen on the shore. She begged me to save her, but I stood rooted in fear. I had a rope in my hand, but I couldn’t throw it to her. I got the scar above my lip digging her grave. Father made me do it…alone. He said it was my punishment.”

  Anger at the horrible cruelty shook Sam. There were gaping wounds inside Sierra that hadn’t even begun to scab over. He didn’t trust himself to speak, his fury was so great.

  Sierra went on, “She was my father’s favorite and more like him than any of us. Where he went, she tagged right behind. He will never forgive me for taking Whitney from him.”

  Sam interrupted. “That wasn’t your fault. It was a horrible accident.”

  Sierra flung herself from the chair and leaned against the porch support. “And now Mama. I put her in that deep grief. I took beautiful, loving Whitney from her.”

  Unable to bear her misery, he went to her. Thinking only of comforting her, he folded his arms around her. Rubbing her slender back, he held her while she cried.

  Raw pain spilled from her wounded heart.

  Minutes passed before she was able to speak. “I never wanted you to see how…broken I am.”

  As his arms tightened around her, he brushed her temple with his lips. “There’s no shame in being human. We all fail in some way or another. And that’s okay. We don’t have to be perfect. We only have to try our best.”

  “Rocky’s the only family I have left who’ll claim me. If I lose him…”

  “You won’t. I’m going to find him. I promise that.” Sam’s jaw clenched. One way or another, she was not going to have reason to blame herself for one more devastating loss.

  Sierra raised her face. Droplets lingered on the tips of her long, dark lashes. Sam brushed them away with the pad of his thumb. He couldn’t deny the strong magnetic pull drawing him to her. He couldn’t control the hunger that burned inside. He only knew he had to taste her lips or die.

  “Do you mind if I kiss you?” he whispered.

  Without a reply, she rose on tiptoe and pressed her mouth to his. There was nothing shy about the need appearing to drive her. She seemed sure of what she wanted, bold even, despite the differences standing between them. Or maybe it was the fierce need for the warmth of a touch. It had been a long while since she’d had that.

  The minute their lips met, Sam was lost.

  The wild stampede of his heart sent an explosion bursting through him. Heat collected in his stomach and seared into his brain, branding her there forever.

  Why had he thought it a good idea to meet her out here?

  The torment of seeing her was bad enough, but holding and kissing her ripped away his last shred of willpower.

  His hand splayed across her back, holding her near. Whether right or wrong, he wanted her more than anything on earth.

  Shifting, he deepened the kiss and let his hand slide along the soft lines of her body. In the back of his mind he knew he had to let her go, but he couldn’t pry his hands loose.

  What he felt was primal and savage, as though he stood in the midst of a thousand thundering buffalo. His heart pounded in his ears. His breath became ragged and harsh. His blood pumped through his veins with a force he’d never felt.

  She needed him.

  And even if he was about to get trampled to death, he’d give everything within his power to make her whole and happy. Yet he knew she had to find that within herself. She’d been right in saying he couldn’t fix her.

  But he could damn sure help.

  Before she left the Lone Star, he vowed Sierra Hunt would know more than the pain and heartache that had walked in her shadow all her life.

  Twenty-four

  Sierra leaned into Sam, lost in his passion. The kiss ignited sleeping embers that had started at the shack, and later banked at the river with no chance of ever fanning back to life.

  Now, the blazing fire burned a path through her.

  In the mountains when a wildfire broke out, you raced ahead and lit another one in hopes of stopping it. Maybe that’s what this was. A secondary fire that would burn up the fuel of the first and snuff it out.

  A sob tore from her heart and hung in her throat. She couldn’t bear for this fragile love to die. But last night in the moonlight, she’d realized once and for all that Sam didn’t love her, at least not in the way she yearned for.

  This man, this Texas Ranger, was everything she’d dreamed of finding. Often during lonely, endless nights she’d dared to hope for someone who could see past what she’d done and not judge.

  Yet even though Sam Legend didn’t love her, she knew he cared. Just now, he hadn’t turned away in disgust when she finally, for the first time, bared her soul.

  She’d trusted him with her secrets and her failures.

  Shivers of delight followed his touch as he moved along her body. She quivered under the tenderness of his mouth as it drifted down the column of her throat to the fabric of her collar.

  Sierra laid her palm on the side of his face.

  All they’d ever had were stolen moments. An ache for something lasting swept along her nerve endings. But maybe this was all there would ever be. If so, she’d settle for what she could get if he would only stay. Except in her heart she knew he wouldn’t.

  Sam had an insatiable need to keep moving, just like her father. Restless feet had ruined her family, and it would destroy her and Sam. He’d not been home in two long years. She couldn’t tie herself to such a man.

  The whole sum of her life would be more than standing at a window, watching the road, waiting for him to remember that he had a wife, a home, possibly a child.

  Wondering if he might be hurt or dead.

  Waiting for a few stolen moments when he would notice her.

  No. Her thoughts returned to the mountains and the aftermath of a fire that had left everything scorched and desolate, the landscape unrecognizable.

  She wouldn’t want to live with nothing but charred piles of ash inside.

  Sometimes love couldn’t save two people.

  Maybe it was best to saddle a horse and leave while she had enough strength.

  Trembling at thoughts of leaving, she leaned back to look up into those gray eyes she loved. “Why did you invite me out here, Sam?”

  He wore a puzzled expression. “I miss sharing a campfire and listening to the sounds of the night with you. I loved those nights on the trail. I don’t want that to end.”

  “Everything has to end.” She meant both the words and the hardness that sneaked into her tone as a reminder for herself.

  Sam tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and kissed her cheek. Sadness filled his eyes. “You’re right, pretty lady.”

  When the screen door creaked behind them and boots struck the porch, they jerked apart.

  “Pardon me, ma’am,” Houston said. “I didn’t know you were out here. I need to talk to you, Sam.”

  Sam shoved a hand through his hair. “It’s all right, Houston. We were finished.”

  “I need to collect Hector and head to bed anyway,” Sierra said. “I’m sure you brothers have lots to discuss. It was nice meeting you, Houston.”

  “Same here.”

  Sierra stepped into the dark shadows. At least she knew what to do for needy little boys. Grown-up ones were far too complicated.

  Pausing under low, overhanging branches of a solitary elm tree, she glanced back. Her gaze searched for the Texas Ranger, whose wa
rm kisses had given her frozen soul a place to thaw. If only for a moment.

  The brief pleasure of their passion would have to last a lifetime. “I love you, Sam,” she whispered brokenly from deep in the cool shadows. “I wish you loved me back.”

  * * *

  Sam stared after her for a moment, then plopped down into a chair, feeling spent. “What’s this about?”

  “Luke Weston.” Houston took the chair next to Sam. “Knowing he has a price on his head makes me nervous. Even without his gun belt and pistol, that man looks lethal. The rage in those eyes makes me want to run for cover, and I’m not a fainthearted man. What are we dealing with?”

  “He’s nothing to worry about.” Sam glanced toward the dwelling that housed Luke. The windows were dark. Probably already went to bed. “I got to know him pretty well during the trip. He has guts and then some.”

  Houston bristled. “That’s not what I’m asking. How dangerous is he? Will I wake up to find him standing over me?”

  “Nope.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  “Weston gave his word.”

  “That’s it? A wanted man gave you his word?”

  “I trust him. Houston, I owe him my life. If he hadn’t cut me down after the hanging, I wouldn’t be here.” Sam touched his scar, recalling those pale-green eyes of the man kneeling over him.

  Houston let out a whistle. “That’s a mighty big debt.”

  “I feel sorry for him. He grew up poor. Never knew his father, though I gather he was white. Luke’s mother, a woman of Mexican descent, died a couple of years ago. He had plenty of opportunity to shoot me. But he didn’t.”

  “So why bring him here?”

  “I’m going to help clear his name. I owe him that much. He’s not as bad as he wants everyone to believe. I’ve seen his honor and the depth of his heart. He put his life on the line for me more than once.”

  “I’d feel better if you took his gun,” Houston complained.

  “He’s not under arrest. I’m only holding him here until I figure out how to proceed.”