The Texas Ranger's Secret (22 page)

The words started to flow and she grabbed her pen, hoping to catch them fast enough.

His particular trail that led to perdition had been paved with good deeds. All he had left to give was a saddle and a whole lot more sacrifice.

Ketchum thumbed up his hat brim and looked beyond the sunset ahead. He had little hope, but he remembered a time when he had none.

There was always the land—Texas, stretching out as far as a man dared to dream and was strong enough to venture. He turned his back on all he’d learned and lost, knowing the one thing he’d carry with him forever—the will to start all over again.

The wilderness faded and with it the drought Willow had suffered with her talent. Amazed at the images she’d created that offered the feeling of Ketchum conquering something within as well as without, she knew beyond doubt that this was the true character she’d wanted to create all along.

This was her grandfather’s kind of hero. True to his profession. True to the land. True to himself.

Tears blurred her eyes as she wrote “The End,” folded the pages into thirds and placed them in the envelope she’d addressed earlier to her editor. All she had to do now was put it in the mail in the morning. She left it lying on the table for now, full of bright promise and future dreams.

“Aunt Willow, are you coming?” Ollie whined, sounding exasperated. “You said you’d be right here. We’re going to miss it.”

Snow showed up in the doorway, carrying a lantern. “We better get out there or she’s going to throw one of those ropes she and Thaddeus have been making and haul you down there herself.”

Willow enjoyed the sound of her sister’s laughter joining hers. “You’re right. She’s about as patient as you were at that age.”

They almost skipped downstairs side by side, the lightness in their steps revealing the joy their earlier talk had given both. The lantern swayed as Snow jostled it, flashing silhouettes to and fro across the walls, reminding Willow of the many times they’d played shadow puppets with their hands. She couldn’t wait for morning for many reasons, but spending the day with Snow was one of them.

Myrtle stepped inside the house just as the sisters were exiting, looking hard at them. “Something wrong with you two?”

Snow and Willow shared a glance and laughed. “No, why?”

“Well, this is the first time I haven’t seen you ready to smack each other.” The chignon at the top of the short cook’s head shifted as she stared up at them. “What happened?”

Willow giggled. “I fell in love.”

Snow grinned. “I remembered how to like her.”

“I’m going back to my kitchen,” Myrtle announced, “until somebody around here regains their good sense. Forty-some-odd new horses. Breaking horses in the near dark. What was the man thinking! And he says he’s going to hire a couple of new men. More to feed. Y’all need to give me a day off or one of you learn to be a better cook.”

“I volunteer Willow,” Snow suggested. “She needs to research that old saying about the way to a man’s heart. Might want to break out another skillet or two, Myrtle.”

“Get out there and see to them children. I’ve got hungry men to feed. Now shoo, the both of ya.”

Willow hurried along, ready to take a great big old bite of life again. The one she’d just finished putting on paper had emptied her and she needed to fill back up with new knowledge and fresh ideas. She’d sleep good tonight, having put that story to rest, but she wouldn’t let herself take time away too long or she’d lose the pulse of creativity that felt as if it still throbbed in her fingertips.

“Can’t wait to watch the men break the horses. I’ve never seen that done,” she told Snow as they headed into the barn.

The corral and the field beyond were full of horses of every color and height. Roans, duns, bays, standard army issue. “Shine the lantern on that one.” Willow pointed toward a massive coal-black horse. “Is that what I think it is?”

“A Percheron.” Snow focused the light on the magnificent beast that most stage companies preferred to pull their coaches. “Shepard knows his horseflesh. Bass and Daisy are going to be more than pleased by his purchases.”

“If they’re still here when they get back,” Willow muttered, scanning the stalls for sight of him. “Shepard, you in here?”

“He’s out in the paddock.” Thaddeus came around the corner and frowned, his thumb pointing over his shoulder. “Told me and Ollie we better get on back to the house and stay there. Said it was too dangerous and we’d be in the way.”

The boy’s gray eyes rounded. “Ollie kicked him what for and said this was her place and he worked for her, so she could be anywhere she pleased. I figured I better mind him ’cause he’s bigger’n me and he doesn’t like us kids much. But I just want to watch. I promise not to get in the way.”

Willow consulted with Snow on the matter. Both agreed if Thad stayed close to the two of them, he’d be safe enough. Besides, the boy needed to at least watch what the men were doing. After all, he’d one day inherit part of the ranch and might have to know how to break horses himself.

“Shepard, will you come here a minute?” Willow waved him in as she tried to meet him halfway.

The wrangler snorted impatiently and marched toward her as if he was still perturbed at her for changing her mind about going to Rafford’s place with him.

“This gonna take long?” he demanded rudely.

She guessed all good manners were off. Her chin lifted as she shot him a glare. “I’m going to let the children watch what you’re doing, but you don’t need to worry. I’ll make sure they stay on the other side of the fence.”

“You agree with her?” Shepard thumbed his hat up and stared at Snow.

Snow nodded.

“Your poison. Just trying to keep ’em safe.”

“We appreciate that,” Snow offered as Hutton glared at Willow one last time and walked away.

“Glad somebody around here does. Oh, and Willow.” Hutton pulled up the bandanna he wore around his neck to cover his nose, making him look much like the bandit she suspected he might be. “Shorty gave me a book he found in one of the saddlebags earlier. It’s lying on my table where I oil the tools. Might want to take it with you when you go in.”

Her face froze, and she hoped she showed no sign of concern.

He’d obviously opened the journal to find out its owner. Fortunately, she’d written her name on the inside cover, in the event she ever misplaced it. He wouldn’t have had to search far.

“My journal,” she told Snow, who shot her a look of curiosity. “I loaned Shorty my horse and accidentally forgot it was still in the bag.”

Had Shorty read all that she’d written and shown it to Shepard?

Or had Shepard read farther than the first page?

Willow got her answer when Hutton winked at her and turned around, pulling the whip from his holster and lassoing the air with a resounding crack.

The horses scattered, racing away from the possible sting of being too close for comfort.

God help her if he was the man Gage was tracking.

She couldn’t write herself out of the danger she might have just put herself into for real.

“I’ve changed my mind, sis. I don’t think I’ll let the children watch right now. It’s later than I thought and will be dark soon enough. They’re both tired from fishing and I’m exhausted from writing. Why don’t we all wait until tomorrow to watch the men work with the horses?”

“Aww!” Ollie and Thad complained at the same time. “We’re not too tired. We won’t get to watch them till we do our chores tomorrow. They’ll prob’ly be done already by then.”

“Or gone,” Willow whispered so only Snow could hear. “Hutton needs to be long gone by the time we bring the kids home tomorrow if he isn’t already.”

“You’ve got more to tell me.” Snow took Thaddeus’s hand and let Willow grab Ollie’s.

“I can walk by myself,” Ollie grumbled. “I don’t need no help.”

“But I do. I’m a little scared and I need someone brave enough to help me think smart,” Willow insisted. “You reckon you could walk me back to the house and stay with me a while?”

“Sure. You chickenhearted about something?”

“And you aren’t?” Willow tried to build up Ollie’s pride so she’d be more willing to help. “Just one thing. I’ve got to stop in the barn and grab my journal before we head into the house. It won’t take a minute, I promise.”

“Okay, if we hafta.”

Willow hurried as fast as Ollie’s little legs could manage. Though her sister had no clue what she was about to learn concerning Shepard, she must have sensed her urgency, for Snow grabbed Thaddeus up in her arms and took strides that ate up the ground in great length.

Reaching the barn and rushing to the two-barreled table, Willow spotted her journal and grabbed it quickly.

Alongside it, gleaming golden in the amber light of a lantern, someone had laid a golden tooth polished to a fine sheen and a can of black boot polish.

She got his message. Keep her mouth shut.

Her gaze darted to the buggy. How hard would it be to hitch up, and could she stop her long-legged sister quick enough to get the job done before Hutton realized what they were up to?

She had to get them all to safety. Including Myrtle.

Letting go of Ollie’s hand, Willow whispered, “Run and tell Aunt Snow to come back. That I need her and Thad. And then go get Myrtle. Tell her not to argue and don’t come out complaining about being in the middle of cooking supper. The two of you stay together and meet me out front as quickly as you can.”

“Something wrong?” Ollie whispered.

“Only if you don’t do exactly as I told you, honey.” Willow hugged her close.

Ollie leaned away. “Don’t get all kissy-huggy on me, okay?”

Willow released her niece. “Remember, as quickly and quietly as you can, meet me out front. All you and Myrtle will have time to do is be ready to jump in. I won’t have time to slow down much.”

Ollie pressed her forefinger against her lip and nodded, then turned to run out the barn door toward the house.

* * *

Gage’s horse thundered toward Daisy’s ranch as he prepared himself for an all-out confrontation with Hutton, assuming the wrangler and his helper had beaten him there with the horses. He didn’t know how many of the employees were in on the deal, but he’d face them all if necessary.

It had taken him far too long to get Miss Finchmeister settled down and back to her aunt. But helping the spurned woman served a vital purpose in the long run.

Seemed the things she regretted Hutton making her do had everything to do with keeping her out of trouble with the law. She’d spilled the beans about aiding him in forging the counterfeit letters of intent supposedly signed by Bass Parker. Hutton presented a letter to each seller and all the seller had to do was present the letter to the bank. Parker was a respected businessman in the territory and his word was his bond.

According to Miss Finchmeister, Willow’s brother-in-law had written one letter for his employee to use in the event an opportunity to buy more horses presented itself while he and Daisy were honeymooning. But Hutton had duplicated it with Ellie’s help and was buying up horses all over the county with Parker’s money.

Now Gage had enough proof to warrant taking Hutton into custody for embezzlement—a fancier name, but he was still a horse thief.

The sound of pounding hooves coming up the trail toward him at a breakneck speed warned Gage to move so he wouldn’t be run down.

“Get out of the way, mister!” A woman’s voice echoed Gage’s silent instinct of warning.

A runaway team?

He’d barely shifted into the prairie grass when a team pulling a buggy full of people flashed by him, veering dangerously to the right to make the turn to High Plains.

The two left wheels tilted high into the air, setting off screams from the passengers before settling back onto the road in a jarring bounce.

Willow and the children! Her sister and cook. He had to catch them. Slow them down before they killed themselves.

Commanding his horse to turn, Gage’s heels squeezed the animal’s flanks until the beast burst into a gallop. Gage’s heart pounded as he rode hard after them. Everything depended on him stopping that team. The image of Willow’s mangled body lying on the road frightened him more than anything he’d ever faced. His first thought was to fire a warning shot, but he feared it would only scare the horses and make them run faster.

He’d have to outrace them and hurl himself on top of one of the frantic animals. If he made one wrong move, he would end up buried beneath a stampede of churning hooves.

God, be with me
, Gage prayed.
Give me sight enough to see. Not for me, but for them. Don’t let me fail them. Don’t let me fail
her
.
Forgive my pride. I can’t lose her.

Seconds passed. All he could hear was the sound of his heartbeat thundering in his ear. Blood rushed through his veins to strengthen and tighten the grip he had on the reins. Inch by inch he passed the back of the buggy, the second seat, now the first.

The children’s shouts echoed, but the force of the wind rushing past him made their words indecipherable. Finally, he reached the hindquarters of one of the team closest to him. The trail of dust behind the wagon almost choked Gage as he fought to tie the reins around the saddle horn, but he didn’t dare veer off into the grass and risk breaking his horse’s legs on the uneven ground.

Gage rode now without anything but his knees and boot heels to maintain balance and not fall off. Edging up the team’s flanks, he leaned forward and unhooked his boot heels from the stirrups. The shoulders of all three horses now kept rhythm as they stretched their necks to gain ground.

Leap
. Gage ordered himself to take to the air and trust his sense of timing.

Amid the billowing dust and the stench of lathered sweat, he landed with a jolt so hard it took him a second or two to recapture his breath. Being unable to see through the thick cloud forced him to rely on his other senses. Choking and gasping for air, he took a fair amount of dirt into his lungs. Saying another prayer, he reached for the reins...and found them.