Birdie's Nest (9 page)

King didn’t move a muscle though his eyebrow rose and a muscle twitched in his cheek. “I assure you I have the utmost respect for your situation and understand your distress. I can’t say I believe you are from the future, as I don’t see time travel as possible. I believe in what I can see and hear. Though I don’t believe you are intentionally lying, I do not believe you are a Texas Ranger. You’d never be able to hold up to the hardships my men undergo.”

She sputtered, “You don’t know that. Test me. Put me in a regiment and see how I handle it.”

“My men won’t let a woman ride with them.” He shook his head. “I can’t in good conscience return the star.”

Her heart pounded in her chest.
I will not cry, and I will not screech like a weak woman.
She took several deep breaths and turned to Detective Ethan. “I’ll be in tomorrow to file a complaint against General King… for theft of my personal property.”

The detective choked. He must have swallowed a mouthful of smoke. Tad arched an eyebrow at her. She cocked one back at him. If he thought she was running in for a glass of water, he had another thought coming. He slapped the arm of the chair, stood, and left the porch. He returned a minute later with a glass and pitcher of water. Ethan nodded his thanks and sipped at the beverage. King observed the proceedings with an unruffled smile.

Finding his voice, Ethan croaked out. “Miss Braxton, you can file a complaint, but it won’t do any good. When it comes to Texas Ranger business, General King is the law.”

* * *

Tad had to give it to Birdie. She didn’t cry, beg, or try to cajole. Just propped her hands on her hips and asked, “Is that your final answer, General?”

“Yes, Miss Braxton. I’m sorry, but it is. I promise it will be in safe keeping with the Waco Police Department.”

She squared her shoulders and muttered, “Fine.” Then she swept past them and through the front door. The general jumped when the screen door slammed. The man probably knew today’s discussion wouldn’t be the end of the debate.

The two men didn’t stay long after Birdie’s departure. Tad strolled inside to find her pacing in the parlor. At the sight of him, she threw up her hands. “I have got to find something to do. I’m not used to housework. I need to use my mind or do something constructive.”

She’d said she had a college education. Would she be able to keep the ranch books for him? He’d much prefer working with the animals than sitting behind the desk doing figures. “How good are you at arithmetic?”

She stopped pacing and waited, hope lightening her expression. “Very good. Why?”

“I could use help with the ranch books. How does a dollar a day with room and board sound?” That’s about what he paid his ranch hands, and if she did a good job it’d be worth every penny.

“Why, it sounds perfect. When can I get started?”

Tad was surprised at his sigh of relief. He hadn’t realized until this moment how much he dreaded the work. “How about right now? I’ve already wasted most of the day. I might as well use the remainder of it getting you settled.”

“Lead on, sir.”

His office lay behind the parlor and was usually closed off. He’d threatened to fire Maybelle if she moved one item in the stacks on his desk while dusting. She did her best to dust around the piles. To keep papers from blowing around the room, he stacked a horseshoe on top of each heap.

Birdie halted just inside the door and took in the scene. He had to admit, it was a mess. He’d not posted entries in the books, paid bills, or filed receipts for a month now. Thank goodness their creditors were accommodating.

She grinned. “You don’t much like book work, do you?”

“I hate it.”

She lifted a bill off the bottom of one stack, read it, and then waved it in his face. “You haven’t paid the grocers in over a month?”

He caught it and placed it back in the stack. “That’s why I’m hiring you.” He pulled open a drawer and lifted out the checkbook and ledger. “You pay the bills, and I’ll sign the checks. Record the amount, date, and payee in the receipt area.”

“I know what to do.” She lifted one the ink pens from the ink well and studied it a moment before putting it back. “I think if it’s okay with you, I’ll work in pencil until I get the hang of using a quill pen. I’m used to ballpoints where the ink flows automatically. When the ink runs out you throw it away and buy a new one.”

“That is wasteful. These pens do have metal nibs and are much easier to use than the old quills.”

She snorted. “Maybe for you.”

He remembered how hard it had been for him to learn to use a pen in school. He’d had ink everywhere until he’d gained confidence and skill. “If you want, I could pick up one of the new Waterman pens at the store next time I’m in town.”

“No, let’s see how I do first. Anyway, on the books I can use pencil for a while but will want to come back later and go over the figures with ink. Of course, the checks have to be in ink.”

He watched as Birdie sat and rifled through the desk drawer setting two pencils and a penknife out. She set them aside and started going through one pile, organizing the items to suit her. It appeared she had a plan so he’d leave her to work.

“Mother will know where I am if you need anything.”

Without looking up, she called, “Okay, thanks.”

By dinnertime, Birdie had Tad’s desk organized, had recorded the invoices in their proper column and tomorrow would pay bills. She’d played around with the pen and managed to scratch out a legible scrawl without too many smudges, but her fingers were covered with ink. She glanced down to make sure she’d not ruined her blouse. Whew! Spotless.

Tomorrow, she’d practice a little more before getting down to business. She stretched and, hands linked behind her head, leaned back in the chair. Contentment filled her. She’d found a purpose, a way to earn her keep until she came up with a permanent plan. Unfortunately, it wouldn’t be law enforcement, as people in this time period wouldn’t accept a woman as a police officer. Hopefully she’d at least be able to use her investigative skills. Her goal required some thought. She closed her eyes. Yes, she’d think of something.

* * *

Tad strode into his office and stopped at the sight of Birdie leaned back in his chair. Arms behind her head, the fabric of her blouse stretched taut across her breasts, fine looking breasts he might add. He’d not given them particular notice before but with them pointed almost to the ceiling, they were hard to miss. My, my, she was a tempting sight. His body hardened with appreciation, and he diverted his gaze to the desk. If Birdie caught him eyeing her attributes, she might pull that little gun on him. He chuckled.

Her eyes flew open, and she dropped her arms. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

He walked around the desk to look over her shoulder. “Caught you taking a nap, didn’t I?”

She snorted. “Not hardly. Just closing my eyes for a minute.”

He surveyed the neat desk, the piles of invoices in tidy stacks. “You got a lot done this afternoon.”

“Yep, have all these invoices recorded and will pay bills in the morning.” She flipped the ledger closed and shoved the chair back to stand. She held her hands out to him. “How long does it take this ink to wear off?”

“A couple of days unless you want to strip your skin off with some of Mother’s lye soap.”

Her blue eyes lit with humor. Pink lips twitched into a smile revealing a beautiful set of white teeth. The ripeness of her kissable lips didn’t go unnoticed. He straightened. What was wrong with him? He darn sure wasn’t in the market for a woman and if he showed the slightest interest toward Birdie, Mother would have them married before he could come up with an excuse.

“I think I’ll let it wear off on its own.” She lifted her arms over her head and twisted from side-to-side. Tad watched, mesmerized. When she noticed the direction of his gaze, her hands dropped to her side like rocks. “I need a walk to stretch my legs. Sitting this long is tiring.”

He cleared his throat. “Yes, indeed, I stiffen up like an old man. If you don’t mind, I’ll join you.”

“Sure.” She strode to the door and waited for him. “Where to?”

“How about to the stables, so I can check on the horses. By the time we get back it’ll be time to freshen up for supper.”

Birdie didn’t mince along at a slow pace. Her strides were long and fast. He didn’t know if she wanted to get their walk over as quickly as possible or what. Should he be offended? He glanced at her to check her expression. Head slightly raised, she appeared to be breathing in the fresh air. Her expression wasn’t pained but one of pure enjoyment. Mother would be complaining about the heat. Bethany wouldn’t, but she was still a kid in most ways.

“About how far would you say it is from the house to the barns?”

“A mile, give or take. Why do you ask?”

“I usually run five miles three or four times a week to stay in shape. I sure don’t want to run up and down this same path all the time. Can you think of somewhere else with pretty level ground where I could run?”

Good Lord-a-mercy! Run to stay in shape? Her figure looked pretty dang good to him. He didn’t know any men who had to work to stay in shape. Their jobs kept them that way. “Why on earth would you do something like that?” Heck, he doubted the exercise was good for her womanly parts, but no way in thunder would he say so to her.

“In my line of work, it’s required. I can’t let a perpetrator outrun me. I may have to tackle him to the ground, overpower him, and cuff him.”

“A perpetrator?”

“Yeah, you know—a criminal.”

“Oh.” Tad just couldn’t imagine her doing such a thing. On second thought, he could see it, skirts flying, drawers exposed as she wrestled a big old brute to the ground to cuff. At his loud guffaw, she stopped in her tracks and shot him a steely glare.

“I can see you don’t believe I’m capable of overpowering a man.”

He struggled to contain his laughter, as he looked her up and down. He finally managed to answer. “It is hard to picture, even with you wearing your riding skirt.”

She stuck her chin out and marched ahead. “I guess I’ll have to show you sometime.”

He hustled to catch up. “Ah now, don’t be mad. You have to admit, it’s not something I’m used to seeing.”

“Uh-huh. By the way, I want to buy a few things. Do you think I could have an advance on my pay?”

“Put whatever you need on our account.”

“If I do that, I’ll pay you back on payday.”

“Good enough.”

“You never did give me an answer about another place to run.”

He thought about it a minute. “I expect it’s about three miles to the road that leads into Waco. Also, the trail we rode with the general and Ethan is about the same distance. I imagine either one of those will work fine. I’ll send one of the stable hands with you.”

“No need. I can take care of myself.”

Dang woman! He knew it would be useless to argue with her. “At least take a weapon with you.”

“You can count on it.”

Chapter Six

Birdie stood at the counter inside the gunsmith’s shop. The name burned into a wooden sign read Joseph Hellman, Owner. Hank waited beside the door. Tad wouldn’t let her venture into town alone. It was bring the cowboy along, or she couldn’t have the use of a horse. As soon as she had enough money, she’d buy her own ride.

“How may I help you, miss?” The middle-aged man squinted at Birdie over his wire-rimmed spectacles. His leather apron brushed the opposite of the counter as he leaned forward to see what she pointed to.

“I’d like to see that pocket pistol. It’s a Colt, isn’t it?”

“Yes, indeed, young woman. The latest model, center fire too.” He lifted it from the case and handed it to her. His eyebrows rose a notch when she released the chamber and sighted down the barrel. “Know something about firearms, do you?”

“A little.” She tested its weight. Not bad. It would be a little heavier loaded. The size was perfect for her holster. “Shoots .38s?”

“Yes. If you want a model that fires .32s, I can order one.”

“No, I prefer this caliber.” She dry fired it a couple of times. The trigger wasn’t too stiff. “If the aim is off, can I bring it back?”

He slapped his hand down on the counter setting his jowls in motion. “My good woman, I assure you I sell the best. If the aim is off, it won’t be this gun.”

Birdie slapped her hands down beside his. “I assure you, my good man, if it doesn’t shoot true, the fault will not lie with me.” What was it with these people, talking down to her all the time?

He lowered his head like a bull and shot her a steely gaze. “Then bring it back, and I’ll adjust it until
your
aim is true.”

Near the door, Hank was having some type of coughing fit. She walked over and pounded him on the back. “Are you okay?”

He swallowed a chuckle and coughed again. “Yes’m. Just fine.”

The fool man was laughing. Guess he’d have a story to tell Tad and the rest of the wranglers. She didn’t mind. All she cared about was the gun shooting true. She returned to the counter. “How much for the Colt, Mr. Hellman?”

“Ten dollars with a box of shells included.”

Birdie stuck out her hand. “It’s a deal then. I’ll take it.”

He grinned and shook her hand.

“Add three more boxes of bullets.”

As he produced the boxes of shells, she loaded the Colt and added it to the pocket of her riding skirt.

He studied her suspiciously. “Planning on robbing the bank?”

“Nope.”

“You new to the area, Miss…”

“Birdie Braxton, Mr. Hellman. Yes, I’m new. I’m staying with Olivia Lockhart.”

“You the young woman Tad fished from the Brazos? The one with the crack on her head and no memory?”

“That’d be me.”

“You need a gun cleaning kit?”

“Yes. Thanks for reminding me.”

He added the kit to her purchases and wrapped them in brown paper and tied it with twine. “Got a city ordinance here in Waco. No carrying guns in the city limits. Sure would hate to see you get locked up.”

Birdie patted her pocket. “I know. That’s why I bought a pocket pistol. No one will know I’m carrying.”

He snorted and eyed her pocket. “If they’re blind, you mean. That’ll be twelve dollars and twenty-five cents.”