The Texas Ranger's Secret (21 page)

If she and Gage could get along enough to still be friends as they had this morning, then the least he could do was agree to let a friend take him to a doctor. That was what friends did for one another.

Willow glanced up from unlacing her boots, only to find her sister studying her closely, as if she had something else to say. “Yes?”

Snow triangled her hands together and the edges of her fingers touched her top lip. “I want to let you know I’m going to town with you tomorrow when you take the children to school.”

“No problem.” Well, there went the visit to the doctor with Gage. Willow hated the thought of putting that off.

She didn’t have to imagine the ride to and from town with Snow. She’d endured a similar one when she’d arrived in High Plains. Fifteen minutes of tension and stiff conversation if they talked at all. Maybe Ollie and Thad would have good things to say about their day at school on the way back. Thad might. Not so sure about Ollie.

“I thought maybe you and I could spend some time together. Have breakfast or lunch, whichever you prefer. Maybe even visit the hat maker.” Snow’s hands moved from her lips to grip the arms of the chair. “See what trouble we can get into together. Myrtle needs a day to herself and I thought we’d both get out of her hair.”

Willow dropped both boots to the floor with a loud thunk that echoed her disbelief. It was time to be honest. “I thought you didn’t like me. Didn’t want to be anywhere around me. Couldn’t stand that I’m not as perfect as you.”

Something deepened the color of her sister’s eyes for a moment before they darted away. The pain of truth she’d finally spoken aloud? Willow wondered. Well, let Snow know the same hurt she felt thinking Snow merely tolerated her because she was kin.

“You thought wrong, sis.” Snow stood and moved over to the bed, taking a seat beside her. “And I don’t want this bickering to go on with us any longer. I feel like it’s way past time for me to set things right between us.”

Willow shifted a few inches away, not trusting Snow’s softer tone or her seemingly sudden change of heart.

“I don’t just like you. I love you very much—” Snow touched Willow’s arm “—and I admire you even more for daring to pursue your dream. It takes a strong will to never give up on what you want in life. I’m proud of you every time I see you writing. I know someday you’re going to achieve what you’re working so hard for.”

The cold ice of her sister’s rejection, which had chilled Willow for so long, started to melt. “Really, you believe I can write?”

“I know you can. You have it in you.”

Willow faced her and allowed her sister’s fingers to thread into hers as they had when Snow used to walk her along the shoreline, playing in the surf.

Tears welled up from some deep pool of yearning Willow had thought dried up long ago. “I haven’t been the best sister,” she admitted. “I’m sorry I disappointed you so many times in the past.”

“You were the baby. Learning. I was your big sister.” Snow gently squeezed Willow’s hand. “It was my job to be an example for you. When Daisy married and moved to Texas, that left me to teach you how to grow up right. It wasn’t an easy thing to take her place.”

Imagining how hard it would be to replace Daisy in the scheme of life around here, Willow began to understand a little better some of her sister’s rigidness. “So all of this yelling at me and criticizing everything I did was because you wanted what was best for me?”

Snow nodded. “Sounds pretty harsh when you say it like that, but it is the truth. I’m sorry, sis. I hope you’ll forgive me and we can become better friends than we’ve been sisters for a lot of years.”

Express the feelings.
Willow imagined what Gage might say.
The depth of feelings inspires the truth
. Willow let the tears she’d been holding back finally fall freely. “How about we forgive each other and start fresh from here?” she suggested and let go of Snow’s hand to hug her instead.

Willow held on when Snow started to pull back. The tears kept coming and she couldn’t stop them.

“There, there.” Snow patted her back. “Having a bossy sister might take a while to cry out. Take as long as you need.”

Willow sobbed, letting the emotion swell, then flood through her. “I—I’m sorry. I don’t know wh-where this is coming from. I’m really very happy. Having one of the h-happiest days I’ve had in a long time, as a matter of fact.”

She leaned back and looked at her sister’s concerned expression. “Today I discovered exactly how to strengthen my writing. Now you like me again.” Willow half gulped, half giggled. “And Gage, well, he and I are finally talking again.”

Her laughter turned to a wail at the mention of his name and she threw her arms back around her sister and sobbed, “I couldn’t be hap-pi-er.”

Snow let her cry a few seconds longer, then gently pushed her back and thumbed Willow’s chin up so that their eyes met. “Look at me. Tell me what’s happened between you and Mr. Newcomb.”

Willow told her everything. About Atlanta. Each of them hiding secrets from the other that brought tension between them. About her and Gage’s quarrel and how they’d avoided each other until today. Even the kiss they’d shared. She told her everything except that she feared he was losing his sight.

“You’re falling for him, aren’t you?”

She should have been used to Snow’s directness by now, but Willow was startled by the answer that she had no hesitation in giving her sister. “Past tense.
Fallen
. I’ve fallen madly, deeply, don’t-want-to-lose-the-man in love. What am I going to do?”

Snow laughed and took one sleeve to wipe the tears from Willow’s face. “You never have a handkerchief around when you need one.”

Willow remembered the one she’d stored away to give Daisy. She’d give it to Snow now instead.

“You’re going to go after him,” Snow insisted. “That’s what you’ll do. Rather, I’m going to take you to him tomorrow morning and you’re going to
show
, not
tell
, Gage what he means to you.”

Determination filled Snow’s face. “Denying yourself of experiencing the sweetness of love will only make your face sour like mine.”

“What do you mean?” Willow asked.

“I won’t allow you to make the biggest mistake I ever made.”

* * *

The sound of a bullwhip cracking and horses whinnying with fear carried a long way. Gage could hear it louder than the drum of his horse’s hooves pounding over the hard-packed road. Hutton was making a big mistake in using the leather strap that called attention to how well he handled it.

When he drew near the corral of Bull Rafford’s place, Gage noticed the size of the remuda gathered in the rancher’s stock pens. He did a quick count and studied as many flanks as his eyes allowed him to see clearly enough. Not many. What few were branded looked legitimate and not worked over. Most hadn’t yet endured the burn of angled iron into their flesh. Maybe Rafford had bought and traded for some of the horses in the past week or so, but the rancher had far fewer than this not long ago. Had he done some mavericking? Was that why Hutton was here?

Quality horseflesh for a cheap price? Or had Hutton played a role in the rustling?

Gage wanted to tread with caution here. Make sure he had the right man before he made a move.

Hutton hadn’t dismounted yet but was cracking his whip, stirring up and riling the horses. From the looks of things, he had no purpose for his whipping other than to show off for some thin woman sitting on the horse next to his and shading herself with a frilly parasol. From the back, Gage couldn’t see her face, but when she halfway turned, he realized he’d seen her before, but where? Even a blind man couldn’t forget such a prominent nose.

The wrangler sat in the saddle about the same height and depth as the horse thief. Gage tried to see anything else about him that might bring more recognition. Nothing.

His hair was black and he hadn’t started sweating enough for Gage to see if it would stay that color.

“Hey, boss,” one of the men yelled to be heard above the crack of the whip, “looks like we got more company. You expecting anybody else?”

“Nope.” Bull Rafford made the corral fence sway as he stepped down from its lower rung, where he’d been watching the horses. His enormous barrel of a chest was enough to strike fear in any opponent, but the remnants of a bruised jaw and chewed-off ear said he’d tangled with someone recently and met his match. He walked toward Gage. “State your business, partner.”

Gage had no beef with anyone but the horse thief. He was sore at himself for Willow possibly seeing the truth first. He’d finish the job, all right, and take Hutton to justice if he proved to be the man he was after, but there would be no sense of achievement in how lousily he’d gotten the job done or the fact that he’d put Willow at risk.

“I remember you,” Rafford said. “You were here a while back checking on my horses. That fella you was looking for ain’t been nowhere around here. Sorry.”

The whip quit cracking the air.

“Good,” Gage answered. “Thought I’d check back. Heard you had a bunch of new broncs. This particular thief likes to choose what no one’s branded yet. He’s no good at shifting the brand. Keep an eye out for trouble. I suspect he’s pretty close and has already caught wind of your bunch.”

“You a lawman?” Rafford eyed the holster strapped to Gage’s hip.

“Don’t wear a badge,” Gage answered truthfully. Of course, if anyone looked in the hidden pocket sewn under his horse’s saddle, he’d find the letter of authority signed by the governor and given to all Rangers to carry somewhere in their belongings. “Don’t mean I won’t see that justice is served. You got clear papers on these animals?”

“Why are you asking, friend?” Bull looked as if he might be ready for the next fight.

Hutton interrupted. “Settle down, Rafford. It’s me he’s checking on, not you. Newcomb wants to make sure I’m on the up-and-up with buying for my employer. I showed you the letter of intent already, didn’t I?”

“Sure did. Parker’s bought from me before and I recognize the writing. He’s a man of learning and writes better than most. You calling this one a horse thief, Newcomb?”

“Not yet, but once I have proof, I might.”

“Let it go.” Hutton coiled his whip and put it back inside the holster. “Don’t much blame him for trying to impress that pretty piece of petticoat. Just don’t like it being at my expense.”

“What petticoat?” raged the thin woman. She jabbed the parasol at Hutton. “What did I tell you about taking up with another woman if you were courting me? I thought we had an understanding.”

The wrangler’s hand reached for the whip, then halted as Gage cleared the gun from his holster.

“Might be wise to reconsider,” Gage warned.

The big-nosed woman reined her horse around, her eyes ready to spill tears. “Will you take me back to town, sir? I prefer not to share his company any longer. And to think I did... Well, I did things I’ve never done for any man.”

“Sure, I’ll be happy to see you safely home, Miss...?” What was her name? He didn’t need or want to hear any more of her explanation. The fact Hutton had been paying court at the same time to two women, one of them being Willow, was enough to gall Gage. He ought to just shoot him on the spot.

But he wouldn’t let jealousy rule his reason. He only hoped Willow’s reason for allowing the man so close was merely to do research.

“It’s Miss Finchmeister. Ellie. I met you at the Parkers’ wedding, if you’ll remember. My aunt’s a founding member of High Plains.” She sniffled, then started to wail. “I thought I’d found the love of my life. But he took me for a complete fool. How am I ever going to live this down, or tell my aunt, for that matter? I’ll never trust another Texan as long as I live. Oh, except you, of course. I want to go back to Atlanta, where men are civilized.”

Atlanta? The origin of the letter Willow had received on the day she arrived. Did the two women know each other well?

He wanted nothing more than to get this woman where she wanted to go and warn Willow and her family that Shepard Hutton was not to be trusted any longer. Whether or not he turned out to be the thief Gage was looking for, their employee was no kind of man to have around the place. If he himself had to stick around and take care of the ranch and horses until Parker and his bride returned, then so be it.

He wouldn’t let Hutton back on the property if he had any say-so whatsoever in the matter.

The only trouble he foresaw now was how to get Ellie Finchmeister to stop talking long enough to let him think how to go about convincing them.

He couldn’t believe anyone could outtalk Willow.

Chapter Fourteen

“S
hepard’s home,” Ollie shouted from somewhere just below Willow’s window. “You oughta see how many horses he brung. They look fine and dandy. Come out and see, everybody!”

Willow had been writing so long at her table that her neck was sore from bending over the paper and her legs ached from the crease the edge of the chair seat pressed into the back of them. She yawned and stretched, reluctant to leave her story. She was on the last page and couldn’t quite get it right. Nothing seemed good enough to wrap up the impression she hoped to leave on the readers about Ketchum so they’d want to ride along with him on his next adventure.

Evening shadows filtered from the window and she’d have to light the lamp if she didn’t want to ruin her eyes. They already were blurring just from the amount of time she’d spent making sure every word rang true.

“Aunt Willow, come on! You gotta see this. Hurry up!”

“Be right down,” she shouted back but didn’t move an inch. The image was right there in her mind’s eye. Just the right word would bring it into full focus and send her fingers flying across the page.

What would Ketchum be feeling at this point?
she asked herself, shutting away the world that surrounded her now and climbing into the skin of the character she’d come to know better than herself.

Ollie’s hollering faded. The four walls that encompassed Willow disappeared and became a stretch of Texas wilderness that spanned the horizon for as far as the eye could see. The sizzling heat of the desert made her back feel sweaty and she scratched it on a corner of her chair, which suddenly transformed into a tall standing saguaro cactus as she swallowed against a dry, thirsty throat.