The Texas Ranger's Secret
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“Go ahead. Get it out of your system.” He pulled off his hat and stared back at her, challenging her to peer closer. “It took me some getting used to myself.”
“What happened?” She wished she weren’t so curious, but the fact that he encouraged her to study his face helped her examine it more closely. A thick forest of dark lashes sheltered eyes the color of midnight with a touch of amethyst in their depths. They were so startling that the raw red welts spotting his face beneath and around each of them seemed a rude cruelty to mar his once-handsome features.
She wanted to smooth away the welts, say a prayer over each and ask God to be merciful and remove them. But when her hand reached up impulsively, he took a step backward. She had gone too far. Her desire to help always made her make a wrong move.
“Please tell me what happened,” she repeated, her eyes moistening with sympathy. Clearly this was an injury he’d suffered not that long ago. Some of the skin had healed, but not all. What kind of man was he that he could suffer such a tragedy and still go about his business as if nothing were amiss? He was truly braver than most she’d ever met. What had he called it, a “Texan worth his salt”?
“Don’t do that.” His voice came gruff, his gaze targeting hers so quick that if it could have shot bullets, she’d have been stone-cold dead. “I won’t be pitied.”
He sure was touchy. She preferred a man who had a pleasant nature and was not so quick to show his temper. That was, she would if she ever decided to spend time with another one for courting purposes.
“That was the last thing I was thinking,” she countered. “Maybe astonishment that you weren’t afraid to show me. Certainly admiration for your being courageous enough to deal with the scars as if they didn’t take a smidgen of handsomeness away from you.”
“So you think I’m handsome.” He lost his somber expression long enough to allow a quirk of a smile.
Willow thought that if she hadn’t needed Newcomb so badly to help with research, she might have slapped his arrogant face. After all, he hadn’t properly introduced himself. She still didn’t know his first name, and now he was flirting with her.
He certainly didn’t lack any confidence. She could use that characteristic to make him more believable as a Ranger. Rangers were known as men who lived by their own codes. As a reader, she found a confident hero easier to admire. Confident, not arrogant or egotistical. There was a fine difference.
“Yes,” she conceded. “You’re handsome and unafraid. You’ve got skills and you don’t mind being honest with me. We just need to decide on a schedule that’ll work for both of us.”
“Let’s get this straight.” He settled his hat back on his head. “You’re hiring me for something, which you haven’t yet told me what for. It’s not a problem that I’m only kind of handsome, and I’m supposed to teach you a set of skills, one of which is shooting. Does that about sum it up?”
She gave him a thumbs-up. “We understand each other perfectly.”
“Like I said before, your sisters could teach you everything.”
Willow shook her head. “I want a man’s perspective. To make it believ— To learn it the way a man knows how.” She’d almost slipped up.
“I’ll have to think about this,” he told her frankly.
“Willow!” shouted a familiar voice from outside the livery. “Willow McMurtry, are you in there? It’s Daisy. We’re here, sis!”
“Be right out,” she yelled in reply. “Give me just a second. Got to gather my bags and straighten up a few things in here first.”
“Remember it’s raining,” came a less easygoing voice.
“I’ll hurry,” she promised, hearing the impatience in Snow’s voice. Willow wondered if Bear and his wife had had any hint of the fire. Had they been able to smell it? She asked Mr. Newcomb why he thought the blacksmith hadn’t already come out to check on the odor.
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll explain what happened. He’ll get a whiff once the rain stops. You need to go on with your sisters and get home while you can.”
Grateful she could be in better sorts when she apologized to the blacksmith, Willow thanked Newcomb and pointed to the soiled blanket lying next to his duster. “I’ll be glad to take those with me and wash them with this one. When I return the blankets, I’ll bring back your coat, too.”
“No need. I’ll take care of them.” He picked up the items and grabbed the one she held as he headed to the door.
He didn’t seem eager to have reason to visit her. She didn’t know whether to be appreciative for his kindness about taking the washing off her hands or insulted that he wanted to avoid further contact with her as much as possible.
“We’ll have to connect later on, then,” she said, “after the wedding tomorrow. Unless you’re a friend of my sisters or Bass Parker, my future brother-in-law. If you’re invited to the wedding, we could visit a little at the reception. Maybe by then you’ll have a decision about working for me?”
“I’m invited, but I’d rather talk you out of it. You’re better off finding someone else to help you.”
Her hands clapped softly together, ignoring his attempt to dissuade her. “The reception will give us some time at least to talk further.”
And make it easier for Snow not to fuss with her about spending time with the stranger once Daisy and Bass left for their honeymoon. If he was already a friend of the family, then Snow would consider him a proper enough acquaintance to allow him into Daisy’s home or to allow Willow to meet him in town.
How she disliked those times when she became little sister again, treated as though she must have a protective mother hen to watch over her. Willow couldn’t wait until the day both Snow and Daisy saw her as grown and not the baby of the family. After all, she was relatively a spinster’s age.
“Before you go, Willow—” Newcomb’s use of her name revealed he’d listened well “—I’ve got one more question before I’ll consider teaching you anything.”
He’s truly considering it!
Another fine trait to add to her characterization of Ketchum. Note #2: Texas men pay close attention. “And what question is that, Mr. Newcomb?”
“We’re getting soaked out here,” barked Snow, “and it’s a long fifteen minutes home.”
She and Snow loved each other but were as different as night and day. Being someone who preferred things calm, quiet and orderly, Snow had the hardest time putting up with Willow’s slower efforts.
“I’ll answer you in just a minute. We forgot to turn out the lantern. I’ll be right there.” Just as she reached to grab it, Willow saw where the daddy longlegs had taken up a new home and nearly knocked the lamp over.
“Owww, that’s hot.” She jerked her hand back but managed to keep from spilling the kerosene and setting another fire.
“You need help?” Newcomb demanded and turned around, her baggage in his hands.
“No! Everything’s just fine. I’m right behind you.” She used the edge of her petticoats for a pot holder and set the lantern on its base, turning off the key to the kerosene. For good measure, she blew at the wick just to make sure no flame remained.
“I’m sorry, horses,” she whispered as she used the lightning flashes to help her see the way out to her sister’s wagon. “I’ll make it up to you tomorrow after the wedding if you’re still here, okay? Don’t know about you, but I need to calm way, way down. I know you will when I’m out of here.”
When she reached her sisters, she found them sitting side by side on the driver’s box. Snow shared a parasol with Daisy, but it did little to fight off the rain. Both started asking all kinds of questions.
“Let me thank Mr. Newcomb for his help,” she told them. “Then I’ll answer everything along the way, okay?”
“Of course,” Daisy replied, appearing unwilling to turn around and greet them face to face. “Thank you, Gage, for lending her a hand. That’s kind of you. Do forgive us for being so... Well, we took a chance on leaving our curlers in, hoping we’d be here so briefly that no one would actually see us except Willow, maybe Bear. He would understand, of course.”
Gage. So that was his name. Willow filed it back in her memory for future reference.
“You all right?” he asked, targeting his question to Willow instead of making any comment about her sisters’ embarrassment about their hair. He lifted her bags into the wagon, then offered Willow a hand up as she climbed in the back.
When their fingers touched, she winced. “I will be. The lantern was hot when I turned it off.”
“Too sore to lasso a stump?” His eyes studied her carefully.
“No. I’m ready to learn from you. The quicker, the better.” If she hadn’t known any differently, she’d have suspected he was trying to help her ease how angry she was with herself. But he didn’t know her at all. Note #3: Texas men sense when to lend a hand.
“Then, as I started to ask before, I need your word that nobody’s going to get hurt from me teaching you to shoot and everything else you’ve mentioned. That this involves nothing illegal.”
Maybe he truly was a lawman of some kind.
“All I can say is that’s my intention at the moment, but I’ll be honest with you, partner.” She gave her best nasal imitation of Texas twang. “My intentions get out of sorts more often than not. Will you just trust me on this?”
He mulled it over hard. Too hard, in her opinion. Maybe she’d have to ask someone else, but he seemed the perfect teacher.
“Trust is the key word here, Willow.” He took off his hat and put it on top of her head. “Don’t ever give me reason to doubt you.”
She shuddered, either from the cool rain or the threat tempering the warning he’d just given her.
She tried to return the hat but he backed away.
“Next time it rains, bring a parasol with you. You’ll stay a lot drier,” he ordered, then headed toward Bear’s quarters without giving her a definite yes.
Chapter Three
The wagon seemed to speed up despite the rain. Willow reached up and pulled Gage’s hat down, making sure it didn’t blow off.
“The horses are smelling home,” Daisy announced. “They want out of this as much as we do.”
Willow’s heartbeat accelerated to match the team’s eager gait. She was anxious to be done with the long day’s travel. She hoped her sisters didn’t question her about why she’d been in the livery with Gage. After all, he’d simply taken refuge from the storm, just as she had.
She wasn’t sure how much, if anything, she was ready to tell them about the other reason she’d come to High Plains. Saying anything about hiring Gage Newcomb and her reason for doing so could wait until she was certain he agreed. Besides, she hadn’t decided for sure she wouldn’t change her mind and use someone else.
The team made a turn. A gust of wind whipped Gage’s hat off Willow’s head but she managed to grab it in time. Fearful that she’d lose it again, she tried to tuck it under one thigh, despite the rain. The wagon rocked and swayed hard, sending her sideways. Her hip crushed the hat crown.
She sat upright again, wondering if Gage would be more understanding about her accidentally crushing his hat than she’d been of the lady who’d done the same to hers.
Was there a way to fix it before he found out?
The man made her nervous. That was for sure. But a man like her character should make people want to right their wrongs, shouldn’t he?
She crammed the hat back down on her head, hoping the crown would pop into shape again. Hardly. She’d have to try something else.
Disgust rode with her the rest of the way.
Finally, the horses stopped in front of a large two-story house with a couple of outbuildings and a corral. Willow exhaled a breath of appreciation as the journey ended.
“Shepard, we’re here!” Daisy hailed, setting the brake. “Ollie, Thad, come grab a bag, will you? Tell Myrtle to warm up the coffee for us.”
The rain chose that moment to stop.
“Naturally,” Snow uttered in her sarcastic way and closed her parasol, revealing her normally solid-white hair had not been protected from the dampness of the rain.
From the barn, a man in a slouch hat, a shirt and chaps came running out to take the reins from Daisy. Willow noticed his black hair had a streak of gray running across the left temple.
“You done for the day, Mrs. Trumbo?” he asked, one of his gloved hands stroking the horse closest to him as if it were a treasured pet. “You want me to brush ’em down or will you be headed back to town for any reason?”
“I’m finished. We’ve still got too much to do before morning and I’m sure my groom doesn’t need to see me looking like this.” She headed to the back of the wagon to help Willow down. “Shepard, this is my sister Willow. Miss Willow McMurtry, my ranch hand, Mr. Shepard Hutton.”
“Howdy.”
The ranch hand tipped his hat and revealed eyes the color of cottonwood leaves when they shimmered in the wind. Silver-green. Freckles dotting his nose made him look younger than the gray streak implied. He was about a head shorter than she was, she’d guess, and she noted he stored a coiled bullwhip handle-up in one side of his holster, a gun in the other. He smiled and revealed a tooth on the left side that reminded her of a golden fang. The man exuded a curious mixture of innocence and danger about him. “Glad to meet you, miss.”
What a man he’d make for either a hero or an outlaw! She couldn’t wait to find out more about him and how he used his whip. Did handling animals require the use of one or was it simply a choice?
“I’m happy to meet you, Mr. Hutton.” She held out her hand to shake his, but when she asked, “Have you worked for my sister long?” he didn’t offer his in return.
She let her hand slide down to her side.
“Not long,” he mumbled and started unloading cargo her sisters must have bought in town from the wagon.
Evasive, Willow delegated him in her notes. Outlaw. Has manners Ketchum would never display.
Willow was just about to ask Daisy and Snow how long they’d known the man but stopped when two little children came charging out the front door of house.
“Aunt Willow,” exclaimed the little blonde girl in braids and overalls, throwing her arms around her in greeting. Genuine welcome shone in her amber-colored eyes. “’Zit true ya came all the way from Florida to watch us?”
“Actually, I’ve been in Geor—” Willow almost said too much, but she refused to lie to her niece. Instead, she said, “I’d come a lot farther to take care of you if you needed me.”
And she meant it. She should have already been in Ollie’s and Thad’s lives long before now. She’d make sure she made her stay here with them memorable and something they would never forget...but in a good way.
Willow hadn’t expected Ollie to be so friendly right off. A refreshing prospect after Gage’s bent of bossiness.
Her niece barely knew her. Daisy must have been kind in relating anything about her to the children. For that she’d always be grateful to her sister. She wanted them to enjoy being with her, and now she wanted both to miss her if she ever left.
But Thaddeus didn’t seem enthusiastic at all about her arrival. He didn’t hug her, just grabbed one of her bags, as his mother had instructed.
“Thank you for taking that in for me.” She tried to make him comfortable with talking to her. He was the spitting image of his late father—sandy-colored hair and gray eyes. But she’d never known Knox Trumbo to be shy, especially around women.
Daisy had said the boy had been orphaned by both his parents, but her sister still hadn’t revealed how she’d learned about the existence of her now-adopted son.
The fact that Thad and Ollie were the same age stirred lots of speculation in Willow’s overactive imagination, but she would wait to satisfy her curiosity until Daisy was ready to talk about those circumstances.
“Oh, yeah, I’m s’posed to grab the other bag.” Ollie unwrapped her arms from around Willow’s waist. “Mama said I get to show you which room you’re sleeping in. You’ll like it real good. I made sure I cleaned out the spiders and stuff.”
“Spiders? What kind of stuff?” Willow had heard about some of her niece’s antics from Daisy’s letters through the years. Where Willow’s mishaps were accidental, Ollie seemed to have a knack for deliberate shenanigans that went awry.
Hopefully, there would be no more meetings with Texas spiders for the rest of this trip.
“Ollie-Golly likes to play jokes on people.” Thaddeus glared at his sister. “Especially me. I told her you might be one of them prissy ladies who don’t like bugs and worms and crawfish or fleas in your taters.”
“Thaddy-Wumpus ain’t no do-gooder either. He’s trained Butler, our goat, to catch you bent over and—”
“Olivia Jane Trumbo, you two have got two months to catch your aunt up on all those wonderful little details.” Snow McMurtry interrupted the list of torture techniques each child had devised for the other. “Now, why don’t the both of you do what your mama asked? Let’s settle Willow in and we all can meet in the parlor once we’ve changed out of these wet clothes. Shepard, go ahead and put up the team and wagon.”
The ranch hand took the reins and started to lead the team away.
“I ain’t changin’ no clothes. I ain’t wet.” Ollie eyed Willow’s raggedy appearance. “You don’t look like you’d mind much.”
Willow suddenly realized the ranch hand had seen her like this and she’d totally forgotten how she appeared. No wonder he hadn’t wanted to shake her hand. Maybe she’d been too quick to criticize his standoffishness.
“I don’t much mind at all, but your aunt Snow’s right. I’d appreciate some sprucing-up time. Is that okay with you? I don’t normally look this bad.”
“You don’t look bad, Miss McMurtry,” Shepard called back over his shoulder. “I think you’ll clean up real good.”
“Why, thank you, Mr. Hutton. I’ll certainly try my best.” When he disappeared into the barn with the team, she smiled, deciding maybe he could be a good sort after all. Maybe he could teach her a thing or two about the way Texas men treated ladies, especially if Gage Newcomb chose not to. Or she didn’t take Gage on after all.
Daisy and Snow shared a glance and laughed. Willow knew that look too well. Matchmaking thrived in their blood anytime the three sisters were together but particularly now, when a wedding was already on their minds.
They didn’t understand she had no interest in marrying yet. Not until she had value of her own and didn’t need to count on being Mrs. Somebody to be respected.
Willow had a certain kind of man in mind if she ever married. One who valued her opinion and never judged her. Most important, she wanted him to need her. She could never love a man who could live a better life without her. Until she came across such a man, she’d just be a spinster aunt.
“Uh-uh,” she told them, heading inside, “you can just put those thoughts out of your head. I’m here to watch over the children, not find a man.”
A believable character, maybe, but not a husband.
* * *
“May I speak to your husband, ma’am?” Gage eyed the blacksmith’s wife and waited for her to allow him to step inside their quarters. The fragrance of ginger cookies permeated the air, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten anything today and needed to. That would have to wait even longer. Though he looked wetter than a duck in a flood and needed to get out of his soaked clothes, he’d made a promise to Willow McMurtry and he’d keep it.
“It won’t take but a minute,” he promised, wishing he still had his hat so he could pull it down and spare Pigeon the sight of his scars.
But then Willow would have had to ride back home without anything to protect her from the rain. That that caused him any concern had been as much a surprise to him as offering to clean the blankets for her. She brought out a consideration for people he thought he’d lost in long years of riding herd on criminals.
Bear’s wife pulled her shawl a little closer around her but stepped aside and let him in. “The rain cooled things off some.”
“Sure did, ma’am.”
She wore a frailty about her. Her rosy cheeks looked flushed from fever, not good health, and her breathing seemed shallow and brief.
“Mind if I stay right here on your rug so I don’t track up your floors? Wouldn’t want to put you to any more trouble.”
“No trouble.” She smiled kindly, but her eyes looked tired, her gray hair braided to one side as if secured for bedtime even though it was barely late afternoon.
“Come on in and pull up Bear’s rocker next to the fire. Dry yourself off some and I’ll fetch my husband. He’s sorting the mail, getting it ready to post over at the mercantile and such.” She excused herself and went into a room farther back in the cozy decorated home.
Gage knew and such meant that on the days the stage didn’t run, the smithy made a habit of taking mail to folks he knew who had a hard time picking it up from the mail slots located at the mercantile for that purpose.
At first, Gage had thought Bear was too eager to help out with the mail and wondered why. But then he’d discovered that Bear and Pigeon always handed out ginger cookies to the children who waited while their parents read letters and decided whether they would write one in reply. The couple lent a hand in reading or writing the missives for those who couldn’t do so themselves. Gage thought the Funderburgs were some of the kindest people he’d ever met. He promised himself before he left High Plains for good, he would find out what had spurred their need for such kindness.
“Yes? How can I help you?” Bear entered the main room, his gaze sweeping over Gage as he sat in the chair holding his gloveless hand out to warm it.
Gage started to stand but the blacksmith motioned him to remain seated and pulled his wife’s rocker alongside.
The rocker creaked with the smithy’s great size as he sat. “Glad to have some company. Pardon my missus. She’s not up to visiting and asked that I give you her apologies. Trying to save her energy for the Parker wedding tomorrow. But she did manage some cookies, if you’d like one or two. I could scrounge up some coffee or tea, if you like.”
A cookie and something to drink sounded wonderful, but Gage didn’t think it fair to take the man’s hospitality when he was about to tell him they’d nearly burned down his livery.
“No, thanks. I promised a friend I’d pass along a message to you. We ought to get on with that so you can get back to your sorting. Warming up is good, though.”
“I saw you watching our newest arrival earlier.” Bear rocked back and forth. “This got anything to do with Willow McMurtry?”
Surprise filled Gage. It shouldn’t have. From all he’d noticed about Bear through his weeks in High Plains, the smithy seemed to know everyone’s comings or goings. Of course he would pay attention to someone like him standing around eyeing people, not taking up work anywhere.
Bear probably wondered what he did for a living. No one in the area knew for sure except Teague, his fellow Ranger, whom he had helped in catching some local bank robbers. The engaged couple might have a clue he was part of Texas’s Special Forces, but if they did, they hadn’t disclosed that fact to anyone yet.
“Yeah, I’m here about her.” Gage told Bear how he’d taken shelter from the rain, about the accidental fire and how they’d managed to get it under control. “We didn’t want you to go in and wonder what had happened. She didn’t want to leave before making it right with you, but it was as much my fault as hers. So I told her I’d take care of telling you.”
He looked the smithy in the eyes. “I think I startled her when I came in and made her drop the match. I’d like to offer to pay for the damage or see who you think could best repair the wall. I’ll hire them to do the job. I’d do it myself but I’m not that good at carpentry.”
Gage didn’t know if he would be able to see well enough to repair the wall.
Bear put his palms on his knees and rocked back and forth, studying the fire. “I think I’ll take you up on that offer, friend. The Trumbo brothers are excellent carpenters. Together, they could have a wall replaced in an hour, maybe two. You sure it’s safe and will hold until tomorrow or the next day?”