Love on the Line (33 page)

Luke drew Honey Dew alongside Georgie at the juncture of Jackson and Fourth. She wore her brown calico, no hat, and a pair of men’s driving gloves. He was pleased to see how well she managed the hack and its horse.

“Wait here,” he told her.

She glanced at him.

He pointed up the street with a nod of his head. “That’s Duane and Blesinger. They’re on their way out.”

“Duane Pfeuffer? You can’t mean Duane and Mr. Blesinger are mixed up in all this.”

“Just sit tight. I’ll be right back.” Nudging Honey Dew, he trotted ahead hoping the men would recognize the horse and let their guard down.

Duane twisted around in his saddle, then grinned. “What in tarnation are you wearin’, Palmer? Ya don’t need to get all frocked up in fancy doodahs.”

Luke caught up to them. “Morning, Duane. Ludwig.”

“Look at ya. I didn’t even know ya had nothin’ other than them overalls.”

“What are you doing here?” Blesinger hissed. “You’re supposed to ride out with Necker.”

Instead of responding, Luke snatched Duane’s pistol out of its holster and turned it onto the men. “I’m going to need you to come with me.”

Blesinger immediately reached for his gun.

Luke cocked his. “Don’t even think about it.”

Freezing momentarily, the gun shop owner made a show of keeping his hands wide and high.

Duane’s smile faltered. “Are ya funning us? What’re ya doin’?”

He flipped his jacket back, revealing his badge. “I’m Lucious Landrum, Texas Ranger of Company ‘A.’ You’re under arrest.” In the seconds it took for the men to absorb the shock, the betrayal, then the panic, Luke grabbed Blesinger’s pistol, stuffed it in his own waistband, then gathered the reins of both horses. “Get off your mounts and keep those hands in the air.”

Duane looked at the Colt in Luke’s hand.

“I mean it, Duane. If you’ve really only been involved in two of the robberies, I’m hoping the judge will go easy on you. Either way, I’ll put in a good word for you.”

The boy’s body relaxed. “Aw, Judge Yoakum ain’t gonna do nothing.”

“Then, get on down.” He figured they’d find out soon enough Yoakum wasn’t the one who’d be making the decisions.

“But we’ll miss the robbery.”

Clearly, he still hadn’t been able to make the jump from Luke to Lucious.

“There is no robbery,” Blesinger gritted.

Luke had expected more resistance from the gun shop owner, but the man had a healthy respect for pistols and slowly dismounted.

“I don’t understand.” Duane slid off his horse, his brown eyes pleading for mercy. For a second chance.

But it wasn’t Luke’s to give. He just brought them in. The courts decided the rest. He tried not to think of Alec, yet the image of his brother being seized by Sheriff Glaser flashed through his mind. He recalled the trumped-up charges Glaser had heaped onto Alec and the resulting three-year term. But this was different. Duane’s crimes were real, not manufactured. Focusing on his task, he jumped to the ground and gave a whistle, signaling Georgie to join them.

“I thought ya were my friend. I trusted ya.”

His heart turned at the hurt coating Duane’s words. “That’s the thing about living outside the law, the men have no honor. You can’t trust any of them.”

“They ain’t the ones pretending to be my friend, all the while knowin’ they wasn’t. It’s the feller
inside
the law what’s doin’ that.”

“I wasn’t pretending about that. I like you. I like you a lot. But my orders are to bring in Comer and his gang, regardless of how I feel about them.”

“That’s the biggest bunch a tripe I ever heard,” Blesinger mumbled.

“You know what this is gonna do to my pa?” Duane asked. “I’m the only son he’s got.”

Georgie arrived with the hack, wind playing with her hair, a look of determination on her face.

“I’m guessing your pa has a pretty good idea already of what you’ve been up to.” Luke nudged the men toward the bed. “All’s not lost, though. You’ve plenty of years left. When you get out, you can start all over. Find you some good, honest friends. A nice God-fearing woman. And this time around, don’t let worldly gain rob you of true prosperity.”

Blesinger climbed into the hack, Duane behind him. Luke cuffed their hands.

“Do ya have all that?” Duane asked, watching as Luke secured him and Blesinger to a chain bolted inside the cart. “Do ya have good, honest friends? A God-fearin’ woman? True prosperity?”

Luke didn’t know what to say. Especially since the answer to every question was no. His gaze lifted briefly to Georgie’s, her eyes offering sympathy and love.

Swallowing, he returned his attention to Duane. “Truth is, my job doesn’t give me much of a chance for all that. I spend my days and nights crisscrossing the state with nothing but my horse, my saddle, and my guns. Folks like to glamorize the life of us Rangers, but it can get awfully lonely.”

“Then, why do ya do it?”

“It’s an important service, and up to now I’ve been happy to provide it. But here lately I’ve been asking myself the same questions you just did.”

“Maybe ya need a fresh start, too.”

Luke squeezed his shoulder. “Maybe I do, Duane. Maybe I do.”

Returning to Honey Dew, he mounted and glanced at Georgie. “Let’s go.”

She turned the wagon north. Resting his wrists against the pommel, Luke kept his eyes moving, but nothing seemed amiss. Birds fluttered from tree to tree. Squirrels played tag. A rabbit froze, then bounced out of sight.

The fellows remained quiet, their morose expressions and slumped postures in stark contrast to the quiet beauty of the new dawn.

When they were two hundred yards from Necker’s place, he had Georgie pull to a stop. Climbing onto the seat beside her, he retrieved Blesinger’s gun, then went through the procedure for loading and firing it.

Blesinger’s eyes widened. “She’s never used a pistol before?”

“ ’Fraid not,” Luke said with a shake of his head.

Blesinger swore.

More alarm than Duane had exhibited all morning filled his eyes. “Well, don’t let her point it at me!”

“Watch your language, Ludwig,” Luke said. Giving Georgie the gun, he fitted his hand over hers and helped her cock it. “It’s in firing position now. If they make any attempt to leave, just squeeze this lever. If you feel like you didn’t slow them down enough, pull the hammer back and squeeze again. That ought to do it.”

She nodded. “I’ve got it. Hammer back. Squeeze trigger.”

“Yep. And it’s best if you keep your eyes open.”

“For the love of—”

“Language.” Luke gave Blesinger another look of warning, then jumped to the ground. “Try to quit trembling, Georgie. Those triggers are pretty sensitive.”

She held the gun with both hands. “I’m just a little nervous, is all.”

He scratched his neck. “You might not want to make any sudden moves, fellas.”

“Ya cain’t think to leave her with that thing,” Duane pleaded. “What if her nose gets a tickle and she sneezes or somethin’?”

“Then I suggest you duck.”

Blesinger clenched his jaw. “At least bring her a couple of pillows when you come back. That gun gets awfully heavy. If she had something to rest her wrists on, she’d be a mite more steady.”

“I’ll do that.”

Luke withdrew his Winchester from the scabbard attached to his saddle. It was early yet and everything was still. He knew from the mouse episode Necker was a sound sleeper, but he didn’t linger. At this time of morning, the whinny of the horses might be all it took to rouse him and his wife.

He made a quick sweep of the perimeter to ensure they were in the bedroom, cocked the rifle, then pushed open the door. The bedroom was straight ahead.

Necker’s wife, a pretty little thing with huge brown eyes and curly brown hair, sat on the edge of the bed hooking the buttons on her boot. Whipping her head up at his entry, she locked eyes with him.

Luke charged.

“Arnold!” She jumped between Luke and the bed.

Necker reached for a gun lying beneath a pillow. Luke pushed the woman aside and covered him before he could bring it up. “Drop it.”

Necker hesitated.

“Drop it or you’re dead.” He held steady, preparing for the worst.

Necker must have sensed his sincerity. He slowly withdrew his hands and put them in the air. Luke moved forward, stuffed Necker’s pistol in his waistband, then handcuffed his prisoner. “I’m Lucious Landrum and you’re under arrest.”

“I knew somethin’ weren’t right about ya. I tol’ Frank o’ my suspicions. You’ll never catch him. Never.”

“That may be so, but we have you and that’s a start.” He snatched the pillows off the bed and tossed them to Mrs. Necker.

Eyes wide, she stood with back and arms plastered to the wall, making no attempt to catch the pillows.

Luke swept the gun to indicate she join her husband. He didn’t fancy putting his back to her just yet. “Grab those pillows, please, ma’am, and walk us to the hack. I suggest neither one of you make any suspicious movements.”

Instead of whistling for Georgie, he walked them the entire two hundred yards. He didn’t want the missus running back for a weapon while they were still in range.

Necker and his wife remained silent during their walk to the hack. Luke could see Duane talking away, a smile playing on Georgie’s lips as she listened, though her gun never wavered from its mark.

Typical Duane, Luke thought. His natural good humor always took over no matter what the circumstance.

The young man caught sight of them, started to wave, then had the motion cut short by chains. “I was tellin’ her the one about the skunk what thinks he’s a frog.”

Luke chuckled. “That’s a good one.”

“Mornin’, Necker,” Duane called. “Can ya believe it? This whole time it was Lucious Landrum fixin’ our telly-phones. I had no i-deer. Even Miss Georgie, here, didn’t know. Did ya?”

She smiled. “I certainly didn’t. Good morning, Mr. Necker.”

“Can she put the gun away now?” Blesinger asked, his voice a bit desperate.

Luke helped Necker into the wagon, then secured his chains. “Let me show her how to ease back on the hammer first.”

Necker reared back. “She doesn’t know how to use that?”

Luke pursed his lips. “She’s a fast learner.”

The man swore.

“Watch yer language,” Duane said, scowling. “We got us a lady on board.”

Necker leaned over and spit but kept his words to himself.

Luke climbed up next to Georgie. “You did real good, honey. Since we’re done for now, you just put your thumb here on the hammer and pull back, then ease it forward. Make sure your barrel isn’t pointing at anyone when you do it, though.” He cocked it again. “Now you try.”

She aimed in the direction of his horse.

Luke gently lowered the barrel. “These bullets go far. You don’t want to accidentally shoot anything.”

Keeping the pistol trained to the ground, she released the hammer, then looked up at him, her green eyes sparkling with pride.

“That’s the way,” he said. “You can relax now. I’ll guard the men while you drive. You needn’t be afraid to put your back to them. I’ll protect you.”

Her eyes softened. “Thank you.”

He emptied Necker’s pistol, took the pillows from Mrs. Necker, and stashed everything under the wagon seat. “I’ll send word about your husband as soon as I can.”

Her eyes teared up. “What’s going to happen to him?”

“That’s not for me to decide, ma’am. But I wouldn’t count on him coming back anytime soon.”

“We’re married, though. And he hardly put in any corn a’tall. What am I supposed to do?” She turned to her husband. “Arnold?”

He kept his head down, refusing to even offer a good-bye.

“Arnold?” Her voice rose an octave.

Luke swung up onto his horse.

Georgie picked up the reins. “You come on by my cottage next time you’re in town, Mrs. Necker. We’ll make sure you get along.”

Her face twisted in anger and hurt. “I don’t want nothin’ to do with you and your holier-than-thou kind. I hate you.
Hate you!
”

Georgie blinked, her lips parting.

Clicking his tongue, Luke touched his heels to Honey Dew’s sides. “Come on, Georgie. Next stop’s a good ways from here.”

Biting her lip, she shook the reins. “Hiyyup.”

Luke tensed. Peter Finkel stood on his front porch. He raised a hand to block out the rising sun behind Luke’s back, then must have smelled trouble. Breaking into an all-out run, he jumped onto a black thoroughbred hitched to a nearby mesquite tree.

“Stay here,” Luke shouted to Georgie as he dug in his heels and gave chase.

Finkel headed straight for the brakes, whipping his horse on both sides with his reins. Luke leaned forward along Honey Dew’s neck, the pommel of his saddle hitting his stomach.

Looking back, Finkel laid into his horse, goading it with his spurs. His horse accelerated. Dirt clods flew up behind the thoroughbred, pelting Luke and stinging his shoulders, arms, and face with each blow.

Squinting his eyes against the onslaught, he kept his focus on his quarry and prayed there were no gopher holes or loose footing. A fall at this speed would break Honey Dew’s neck and likely his own.

Not for the first time, he wished he had his own horse and saddle. He shouted encouragement to the mare, but Finkel’s black continued to pull away.

Luke whipped his reins back and forth. Sweat bubbled along Honey Dew’s neck and chest. She stumbled, lurching forward. Tensing, he managed to keep his seat. She recovered her footing and he let out a breath.

The slip had given Finkel an even greater lead. Honey Dew’s hoofbeats slowed. He couldn’t afford to let the energy drain from her. They still had one more man to round up.

Pulling her to a stop, he grabbed his Winchester, swung to ground, and settled the butt of the rifle into his shoulder. Honey Dew wheezed and blew beside him. The distance between him and Finkel increased exponentially, but he was still well within range.

Looking down the barrel, Luke shot the ground in front of the galloping thoroughbred, knowing full well his bullets came within a hair of Finkel’s ears before striking the earth.

He’d long since learned he rarely had to actually hit his mark. The sound of a bullet singing by usually raised the level of concern enough to bring his man to a halt, for most weren’t willing to gamble on where the next one would land.

“Stop!” Luke shouted. “Or I’ll shift a little left this time.” He followed immediately with a second shot.

Instead of slowing, Finkel spurred his mount to greater speeds.

Hardening his resolve, Luke aimed at the man himself. “Last chance,” he hollered and hooked his finger around the trigger.

At this final warning, Finkel brought his horse up so short it rose onto its hind legs before settling. He quickly put his hands in the air.

“Keep them there, get off your horse, and come on in.” Heart hammering, he kept his gun trained on the man.

“Who are you?” Finkel asked, drawing close. His horse had not followed but stood where he’d left it. “You certainly aren’t
der
Troubleman.”

He clamped on the cuffs, anger sluicing through him. “You have any idea how close you were to missing your day in court?”

“Who are you?”

“Lucious Landrum.”

“You’re supposed to be in South Texas chasing
die
Diamonds.”

“What did you go and run off like that for?” Luke barked. “I thought I was going to have to shoot you.”

“Vhy didn’t you?”

“I was seconds away from it!” His breathing was as labored as Honey Dew’s, his fury palpable.

“Vhy didn’t you?” he asked again.

With an effort, Luke brought himself under control. “It’s not something I care to do unless I absolutely have to.”

Finkel studied him. “Zat de only reason?”

The men faced each other, memories shuffling through their minds. They’d played cards, shared meals, traded jokes, exchanged confidences.

Luke sighed. “Let’s get going. We’ve got one more stop.”

They headed toward the hack. “Comer von’t let you take us in. You know dat, don’t you?”

“This is the end of the rail, Peter. You’re going to jail.”

The creak of the hack and the clinking of chains drew the man’s gaze. He whistled. “You pick up all
dies Männer
this morning?”

“Yep.”

“You planning on getting every-von?”

“Yep.”

Finkel shook his head. “Comer hates jails. He von’t sit by and let you lock us up.”

“He let me have six others.”

“He vas hopping mad about it, too. Promised us he vouldn’t let it happen again.” Walking to the back, he climbed into the bed.

Duane perked up. “So how ya likin’ that telly-phone Luke sold ya?”

Finkel scowled. “Shut up, Pfeuffer.”

“Who-wee, I think he’s got a couple o’ lines crossed, Luke.” Duane leaned in. “What happened to yer ear?”

Luke whipped up his head from securing the chains. A trickle of blood ran down Finkel’s ear.

Tightening his lips, Luke finished shackling him. “Well, that was some mighty sorry shooting on my part, Peter. I’m sorry. I aim to miss by about three inches.”

“I should haf stopped right avay.”

“We couldn’t believe it when ya kept going after Luke here gave ya warnin’.” Duane shook his head. “We thought ya were dead fer shore, didn’t we, boys?”

The men offered their agreement. Duane rehashed what they saw, telling Finkel how each of them had been caught.

Luke checked Honey Dew’s flanks. They were covered in a foam of sweat. Her nostrils flared wide as she sucked in air. He wiped her sides and patted her neck. “You did real fine, girl. Real fine.”

When Duane wound down, Finkel nodded at Georgie. “
Guten Morgen,
Fräulein Gail.
Das Telefon
isn’t vorking.”

“Good morning, Mr. Finkel.” She gave him a soft smile. “And you’re quite right. Seems someone shot down every line we have.”

He gave a disgruntled look at Necker. “Vas that your idea? Did you stop and think that now our
Frauen
can’t call the next
Mann
and warn him?”

Necker sneered. “Shut up, Finkel.”

Georgie exchanged a look with Luke, then faced forward.

Taking Honey Dew’s reins, he walked beside the hack and back toward the farmhouse. The gunfire had emptied it of its occupants. Finkel’s wife and five stairstep children stood on the porch. Luke picked out the boy who’d churned butter and the girl who’d fed the chickens that first day he stopped by.

The missus ran down the steps. “Peter?”

“Go back in
das Haus,
mein Liebling,
” he said, his voice gentle.

She turned to Georgie. “Vat’s happening?
Was ist los?
”

“Mrs. Finkel, this is Ranger Landrum. I’m afraid . . .” Georgie looked at him, at a loss for words.

“I’m going to have to take him in, ma’am. I’ll get word to you as soon as I can.”

“Is this because of Herr Comer?”

“
Stille!
” Finkel said.

“I’m afraid so,” Luke said to the woman.

“But
das Telefon
doesn’t vork. How vill I hear?”

The children spilled into the yard like ducklings trailing after their mother.

“We’ll get it fixed or send someone out,” he said. “Either way, I’ll be in touch.”

Finkel twisted around, catching his son’s eye. “Morgan’s out in
die
Pasture. You’ll need to get her and cool her down,
ja
?”

“
Jawohl.
”

“That’s a good boy. You take care of your
Mutter
now. I’ll be back soon as I can.”

“When,
Vater
?” The boy’s gaze traveled over the occupants of the wagon.

“I don’t know,
Sohn.
But not for a long vile. I love you, and
die
Mädchen,
too.” He glanced at his daughters, then gave his wife a sad smile. “It’ll be all right,
Liebling.
”

She brought her apron to her mouth. “
Nein,
Peter. What vill ve do?”

Finkel looked at Luke. “Let’s get going.”

Heart heavy, Luke swung up onto Honey Dew, then rode alongside Georgie as she urged the horses in a westwardly direction. The image of the five ragamuffins swirling about their mama’s skirt seared his brain. He knew what it was like to lose a father at age ten and to have your ma and siblings to take care of. He wished he could come back, check on them from time to time, see if they needed anything. But if he kept rangering, chances were, he’d never see them again.

He glanced at Georgie. She kept her eyes forward, her throat working. The men in back quieted. Even Duane was subdued.

Clem Ragston was the only one left, but Finkel’s words had given Luke a sense of unease. Was Comer in the area? Would he try to get the drop on them? When would he realize his men had not met up at their rendezvous points? And when he did, would Georgie be in harm’s way?

But he already knew the answer. She would. And if anything happened to her, he’d never forgive himself. He glanced at her again, her nose and cheeks a muted pink where the sun had touched them. A deep well of love for her sprang from within. So sweet. So brave. And, Lord help him, but he wanted her with him always.

Feeling his regard, she glanced over.

He winked, then returned his attention to the men in the back.

They approached Ragston’s house with extreme caution. He’d planned to have Georgie wait for him well away from the house. But if Comer really was out there, he wanted to be within hearing distance. They pulled to a stop just before a bend in the road.

The men quieted. After Finkel, they knew Luke would take them in dead or alive. And they wanted their buddy Ragston alive. So rather than shout a warning, they anxiously awaited Ragston’s reaction. Would he run or would he come in peacefully?

He gave each of the men a hard look. “Nothing is to happen to Georgie. If Comer comes, as you expect him to, I want your word you’ll protect her.”

Necker spit. “That’s askin’ an awful lot. She’s been pointin’ a gun at us all day.”

“I’ll have your word.” His voice was short, clipped.

“Ya got mine,” Duane offered.

“And mine.” This from Finkel, echoed then by Blesinger.

Necker shook his head. “I ain’t makin’ any promises. If she gets in the way, well . . .” He shrugged.

Dismounting, Luke walked over to Necker and, with one swing of his fist, put him to sleep.

Necker slumped over. Georgie squeaked.

Duane grimaced. “Who-wee. That hurt yer hand, Luke?”

Blesinger rolled his eyes.

“Get your pistol out,” Luke said to Georgie. “If anything happens, and I mean anything, you shoot. You hear me?”

Swallowing, she nodded, the color in her cheeks fading a bit.

“He don’t mean shoot us,” Duane clarified. “He just means, ya know, shoot up at the sky or somethin’.”

Pinning her with his gaze, Luke waved his hand in a circular motion encompassing his own torso. “Aim anywhere in here. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Aw, come on, Luke,” Duane whined. “Ya cain’t leave us here. We cain’t see nothing. Take us round the corner.”

Ignoring him, Luke grabbed his Winchester, then crept toward the house. The morning was well advanced, reducing his chances for success astronomically. The place was awfully quiet for a family the size of Ragston’s.

Keeping cover among the shrubs, he darted from tree to tree until he was pressed against the house’s whitewashed siding. He stayed where he was, listening.

A man’s rumble followed by a child’s giggle came from the back window. Luke eased that direction, inclining his ears, but could only make out voices, not actual words. He didn’t risk looking inside, but from the sound of it, Ragston had one of his daughters with him.

Where was the missus? The rest of the children?

Creeping toward the kitchen door, he flung it open and pointed the gun, not at Ragston, but at a man playing cards with . . . Bettina.

A pistol sat on the table, a foot from the card-player’s hand. Darting a glance at the weapon, the man grabbed for it.

Luke fired the Winchester. The bullet sent the pistol skittering across the room, well out of reach. Bettina dropped to the floor, covering her head with her arms.

Luke cocked his rifle and kept the barrel leveled at the stranger. “Where’s Ragston?”

The man made no move to raise his hands, but instead settled into his chair and played a card as if he didn’t have a care in the world. He was about Luke’s age, brown hair, blue eyes, very familiar looking. Where had he seen him?

“Ragston’s not here.” The man’s voice sent shock waves through Luke. He knew him. Knew him well. But from where? Where?

He kept his rifle steady but spoke to Bettina. “What are you doing here, girl? You’re supposed to be on your way to Industry.”

Her eyes wide, she slowly straightened. “Mr. Luke? What happened to yer overalls?”

“My real name’s Lucious Landrum.”

Her lips parted. “The Ranger?”

“Yes. Now, why are you here?”

She glanced between him and the man. “I didn’t go ta Industry. I went and fetched Comer instead.”

Euphoria swept through him. This was Comer. Dead to rights at the other end of his barrel. Bettina might have gone to warn him, but instead had delivered him right into his hands. He wondered at Comer’s audacity. Had the man become so complacent he thought he couldn’t be brought in? Well, he’d find out differently now.