Kiss Of The Night Wind

by Taylor, Janelle

  T.J. felt bad about lying to his Ranger friends, but he had to think only of Carrie Sue now. His duty had been met, and he had done far more than should be expected of any man. He had used and betrayed his love and almost gotten her killed. They deserved freedom and happiness, and it was up to him to obtain them.

  T.J. left her sleeping peacefully while he took a bath, shaved, and changed clothes. Until they left town, he would remain at her side. Once they were on the trail, the Rangers and prisoners would go on ahead while he drove slowly in a wagon with the coffin. When he and Carrie Sue were alone, he could unseal the wooden box. At the outskirts of Waco she would be compelled to hide again until he reached the house which Hank had rented for him. While he was filing his reports, attending the trials, and retiring from the Rangers, Hank Peterson would take care of her. Afterwards, it was off to Montana and a new life together.

  As T.J. looked down at his love, he murmured, “From the moment I first laid eyes on you, I knew I couldn’t rest until you were mine. I’ll make you understand and forgive me, Carrie Sue. We’re meant to be together.”

  T.J. stretched out beside her and closed his eyes. He was exhausted from nightly vigils and daily worry. He could relax and rest now because he knew she was going to get well and his ruse had worked perfectly.

  Carrie Sue awakened off and on Saturday. T.J. was always at her side. While her head was clear, she was worried about her brother, but T.J. kept telling her that Darby was fine.

  The last time she awakened that day, after feeding her nourishing soup, T.J. told her of his impending plans.

  In a weak voice, she asked, “You really are taking me away?”

  “I never lied about that, Carrie Sue. I love you and want to marry you, but this is the only way. You have to trust me and cooperate.”

  Carrie Sue’s eyes were heavy. She closed them and went to sleep, his last words running through her mind each time she stirred.

  Sunday morning, Carrie Sue was more lucid and for a longer period of time. She asked for coffee, bringing a smile to T.J.’s lips.

  “I hope this means you’re feeling better,” he hinted.

  She was propped against pillows. “My shoulder hurts like heck. I feel as if I’ve honestly died and been dragged back to life.”

  T.J. stroked her silky hair—which he kept brushed—and said, “I was determined not to let you go, woman. You owe me.”

  Her violet-blue eyes gaped at him. “I owe you? How did you come to that crazy conclusion, you conniving lawman?”

  “You’re the one who tempted and teased me until I lost my head and heart over you. You’re to blame for making me pull those stunts so I could have you. At least we got Harding, so you have your revenge and justice.” He told her about Quade Harding’s deeds and death.

  “I feel too bad for that news to enliven me. What about Darby?”

  T.J. explained what he had told Darby before and after her shooting. He related what he believed would happen to the bandit leader. “That’s the best I can do for him, love.” He sat beside her. “Aren’t you relieved his outlaw days are over? Now, he can work on getting his head and life straight. I told him that when he gets out of prison, he can come live with us. He knows where to look, and he’s plenty welcome. None of the other boys know the truth. Darby and I figured it was too dangerous to tell them you aren’t dead. This way, none of them will come looking for you after they get out of prison.”

  “You mean Kadry Sams and Dillon Holmes.”

  He grinned and chuckled. “That’s right, my clever vixen. I’m a possessive and jealous man. I don’t want either of those lovesick cowboys chasing my wife. I’d like a peaceful existence for a change.”

  She tried to move away from him, but she couldn’t. She was too weak and it hurt her shoulder. Touching him caused a mixture of feelings: anger, irritation, confusion, love, and desire. “What if I refuse to marry you, Mr. Traitorous Rogue? Am I supposed to forget and forgive just because you had a mission to carry out? How do I know this isn’t another one of your crafty tricks?”

  He captured her hand and kissed it. “For what reason, woman? The Stover Gang is in jail. And you’re in no condition to rescue them. Even if you were, I think you’re smart enough to realize this is for the best. You don’t want Darby killed or continuing as an outlaw. I saved his life, Carrie Sue, and he has a chance for a fresh start after he’s served his time. There was no way you would help me stop him, so what did I do so wrong by tricking you for a while? I never lied about the important things like love and marriage.”

  She wanted to discuss this further, but she was drowsy. “The problem is…Rogue, I don’t know…if I can ever trust you again.”

  “Let’s get you tucked in and comfortable. You need sleep, love. You’ll have lots of time to punish me with this sharp tongue later. Right now, you have to get plenty of rest. We leave in the morning. It’ll be tough going for you until I get rid of them and unseal that coffin.”

  “I don’t…want to…ride…in a coffin,” she argued.

  “Would you prefer to travel with the prisoners, stay in jail with them, stand trial with them, go to prison with them? Are you that angry with me, Carrie Sue? Do you hate me that much?”

  “Behave, Rogue, I’m…too tired to quarrel. Good-night.” She closed her eyes and went to sleep.

  T.J. settled her in bed and kissed her forehead. “You might be furious with me, woman, but you love me. It’ll work out for us.”

  When she awakened again later, T.J. showed her the newspaper with her coffin picture and read the stories to her. He told her about the sheriff checking her at the hotel and what he told the doctor.

  Carrie Sue was amazed, and impressed. “You’re one clever and daring man, Rogue. Or should I call you Thad now?”

  He grinned and shrugged. “Whichever name you prefer, love. I mostly go by T.J., but a few friends and Rangers call me Thad. You’ll be Mrs. Thaddeus Jerome Jamison, Carrie Sue Jamison.”

  “If I marry you,” she scoffed, jerking her hand from his.

  He glued his gaze to hers. “You have no choice, woman. I saved your life and I’m keeping you out of prison. You belong to me.”

  “I see, swap one prison for another kind? Is that my choice?”

  He sighed loudly in frustration. “Come on, Carrie Sue, give me another chance,” he entreated.

  “Another chance to use me and betray me?”

  “Lordy, you stubborn vixen! You really want to punish me, don’t you? What can I say or do to convince you I love you?”

  She replied, “I don’t doubt you love me, Ranger Jamison, but trust is a big part of love and marriage. You lied to me.”

  He countered, “And you didn’t lie to me plenty of times?”

  Carrie Sue felt a rush of guilt. “I suppose I did,” she admitted. “But I had to,” she claimed.

  His voice tender, he responded, “Just like I had to deceive you, just for different reasons. Even so, I still trust you and love you.”

  Carrie Sue frowned in consternation. He was right, but…

  “I know this is all hard on you, love, but I’ll prove myself. Just give me time and patience and understanding. I promise you it’s been just as hard on me. Imagine Thad Jamison, lawman, falling in love with an outlaw, the notorious fugitive he’s sworn to arrest. Now, I’m turning my back on everything I know and have just to win you.”

  T.J. told her of his three badges and jobs. He went on to explain, “I was a Presidential agent and U.S. Marshal before I became a Texas Ranger in ’74. That was when they were reorganized. Maybe you didn’t know they were disbanded after the war by military authorities and corrupt politicians; I guess it was punishment for seceding from the Union in ’61. The Texas Legislature passed a bill in ’74 starting them up again with six companies. Major John Jones was assigned the Frontier Battalion to combat the Indian and border problems. I work under Captain L.H. McNelly of the Special Force. We’re suppose to rid Texas of cattle thieves and outlaws, reestablish law a
nd order. The President, Marshal’s office, and Rangers sort of share me for various missions, but I’ve almost always used the gunslinger Rogue as a cover. My missions took me all over Texas and the surrounding territories. That’s how I met Hank, Mitch, and Joe Collins.” He related the full story of Arabella and Marie. Then, he filled in any gaps which she questioned.

  With a sad tone, he said, “I tried to get you a pardon, Carrie Sue, but they won’t grant one. And, if I hadn’t brought your brother in alive, someone would have killed him. I’ve tried to do what’s right for everyone. Can’t you understand my side?”

  Finally she said, “I need time, patience, and understanding, too. Maybe I’m just too weak and weary to think and feel right now.”

  “Just answer one question for me; do you love me and want me?”

  She stared into his smokey gray eyes and said, “Yes, I do.”

  He smiled broadly. “That’s plenty for now. Take a nap, love. Bill wants to visit later if that’s all right with you.”

  “Why are we at his home? Why is he helping you? Don’t tell me he’s an ex-Ranger too,” she jested, feeling as if an oppressing weight had been lifted from her body.

  T.J. explained when and how he met the newspaper man. He told her what they had done together and separately. He explained why Bill hadn’t betrayed the Stover Gang to the local sheriff. “By the way, the sheriff was killed last night trying to capture some rustlers. I doubt he’ll be missed very much. He wasn’t a good man.”

  “William Ferguson is,” she remarked. “I’d like to see him later. I want to thank him for all he’s done for me and Darby. See you next time, partner,” she murmured and snuggled into bed.

  Monday morning, June twenty-sixth, it had been a week since Carrie Sue was shot. She was recovering slowly and steadily. She asked, “What if they want to view my body again?”

  “They won’t, love. You’ve been dead too long. But just in case, I’ll help you into that white dress again and you can hold these,” he said, yanking the dead flowers from the vase. “We’re damn lucky they didn’t send for a prison wagon to haul those men to Waco. That would have caught us in a bind, made us travel at the same pace.”

  Carrie Sue was helped into the dress, and she admired it. “Where did you get this, Rogue? It’s beautiful.”

  “At a local dress shop. I saw it in the window. Luckily it fit. You sure do look great in it. Why don’t you wear it when we marry?”

  She glanced at him, but didn’t respond. She was trying to remain calm; she was trying to be understanding. She knew T.J. wouldn’t allow her to recuperate here where he couldn’t watch her. For now, the best thing was to cooperate. Also, she wanted to be near Darby’s trial. T.J. had promised to find a way for them to visit one last time before he was sent to prison. Too, she wanted to see if T.J. truly meant what he had said about retiring and escaping with her.

  Carrie Sue Stover loved Thad Jamison with all her heart and soul, but she was afraid to let down her guard this soon after his deceit. Time and his imminent actions would tell her what to do.

  She was helped into the quilt-lined coffin. “I don’t like this,” she muttered as she lay down, wincing when her shoulder protested.

  “You all right, love?” T.J. asked.

  “Yep,” she muttered unconvincingly.

  He placed a canteen and some food in the wooden box within her reach. He laid a gun near her hand. “Just in case something happens to me and you need to protect yourself,” he informed her when she glanced at him oddly. “Just stay quiet and still. I’ll try to get rid of them as soon as possible. I love you, woman,” he vowed, then bent forward to kiss her.

  Carrie Sue looked at him when he straightened. She parted her lips to speak, but didn’t. It was dark when he sealed the lid. She settled herself for the grueling experience ahead.

  “It might get warm in here, love, but be patient.” He cautioned, “They’re here, so no more talking or moving.”

  T.J. and another man loaded the coffin onto a wagon. William tossed her saddlebags beside it. T.J. added his belongings and supplies. The lawman tied the reins of Nighthawk and Charo to the tail gate. He shook hands with William Ferguson and said, “I’ll see you in Waco on Saturday. Thanks for everything, Bill.”

  “Take care of yourself, Thad. I’ll be seeing you soon.”

  T.J. mounted the wagon seat, clicked the reins, and the team pulled out to join the group of men nearby. He glanced at Darby Stover, but their looks revealed nothing suspicious to the others. “Let’s go.”

  Ten miles outside of San Angelo on the road which passed through Brownwood and Hamilton on the way to Waco, T.J. halted the men. “This is slow moving, Harry. Why don’t you ride on and I’ll catch up in Waco. If I go any faster, I’ll bounce her coffin out of the wagon. I didn’t think about it, but I could have headed out Saturday or Sunday. I guess my mind was elsewhere.” He tried to look and sound sad, but it was hard with his love and happiness so close at hand.

  Harry smiled sympathetically and said, “If you don’t mind traveling alone, Thad, I would like to make better time.”

  T.J. despised lying to his friends and hated being compelled to take illegal actions, but he couldn’t avoid this path and save his love too. “I wouldn’t want to walk my horse that far. I’ll be fine. I can use the peace and quiet, if you understand my meaning.”

  Harry thought he did, so he nodded. “All right, boys, let’s pick up the pace and let the wind cool us.”

  Kadry Sams shouted, “I need tae see her an’ sae good-bye. Just gie me one look at her.”

  Harry shook his head and replied, “She’s been dead fornigh unto a week, boy; you don’t want to look at her now. Remember her like she was.”

  When Bob offered to hang back with T.J., Harry said, “Let him be alone; he needs it before he puts her away for keeps.”

  The Rangers, appointed deputies, and prisoners galloped off and left the wagon there.

  T.J. said, “Just a while longer, love. I want to make sure they’re gone. You all right in there?”

  When the wounded woman didn’t respond, T.J. panicked. He knocked on the coffin and asked, “You all right, Carrie Sue?”

  A muffled voice answered, “Just hot and sore, but fine.”

  They traveled for another half-hour, then halted. T.J. removed the lid and lifted her out of the wooden confinement. Carrie Sue’s cheeks were flushed and her skin glistened with moisture. T.J. poured water on a bandanna and washed the sweat from her face. He waved it before her, trying to cool her faster.

  “How’s the shoulder?” he inquired. “We’ll get you out of this hot dress and into something cooler. I washed those Mexican garments; they should do the trick. I want to check for bleeding.”

  She noticed he had stopped near the eastern flow of the Concho River. She was glad. The grove he had selected was cool and shady. She let him remove the lovely white dress, check her wound, and rebind it with antiseptic bandages which he had stolen from the doctor. She helped him as much as possible as he pulled on her blouse and skirt.

  “That better?” he asked.

  “Much. Thanks.” She sipped water slowly because she felt weak.

  When he tossed the white lace dress into the wagon, she summoned the strength to scold, “Don’t do that, T.J. Rogue! You fold that dress and put it away before you ruin it. Are your hands clean? I don’t want you to stain it. It took all I had to keep from bleeding on it.”

  T.J. chuckled and said, “Yes, ma’am. Don’t worry. I’m glad to see your spirit returning. You must feel better if that fiery temper is aglow today.”

  “I want to walk a minute. Can you help me? My legs feel like a mellow pear, so I can’t do it alone. I need to get some blood flowing in this aching body. I’m not used to lying around for days. Makes me tense and moody.”

  T.J. smiled in pleasure. He put his right arm around her waist and held her left elbow with his free hand. He guided her around for a short time with her leaning against him for support. H
e felt her telltale tremors and the amount of pressure she was putting on his body. “I hope that ride wasn’t too rough on you.”

  “I’ve had worse, and plenty better. Damn,” she swore underbreath. “I hate feeling this way, helpless as a baby.”

  T.J. coaxed, “Just take it easy, love; you nearly died. You’re strong and healthy; you’ll be well soon. Until then, just lean on me. Whatever you want or need, I’ll get it or do it for you.”

  For some inexplicable reason, Carrie Sue began to cry. “Damn,” she swore again, feeling stupid, “First I’m feeling like a baby, now I’m bawling like one. I hate acting like this!”

  T.J. knew what it was like to feel utterly helpless. He had experienced similar bouts of that offensive condition when he had been barbwired to that tree, when he hadn’t been able to secure her a life-saving pardon, when she had been shot and nearly died, and when the Stover Gang had captured him. He knew how nerve-racking it was!

  He swept her into his arms and walked to the riverbank with her. He sat her down and placed her feet in the refreshing water. “You’re just hot and tired, love. You’ve been very sick. It’s nothing but your body fussing at you and trying to heal. I was like this while recovering from Quade’s little attack. I nearly died. I was weak and fussy and miserable, too. It’ll pass, honest.”

  “I bet you didn’t cry,” she murmured, wiping at the tears.

  He answered truthfully, “Nope, but I sure did want to lots of times. It was frustrating, maddening, irritating. My nerves stayed on edge. I was moody and bitter, downright foul-tempered all the time. I hurt like hell. I couldn’t even take care of myself or defend myself. I had to be fed and tended for days. Really stung my pride.” He didn’t mention the Ranger who had saved his life and taken care of him; he didn’t want to remind her of one of the Stover Gang’s victims.

  Carrie Sue looked at him. Maybe that was it: singed pride and damaged modesty. She hadn’t even been able to tend to her private business alone! At least it was T. J. helping her and not a stranger. She dangled her feet in the soothing water and rested against his chest. “I feel nasty. What I need is a bath, a good bath, not just a light rinsing off. That would make me feel better; I know it would.”