Give Me A Texas Ranger (32 page)

The train was behind schedule when it pulled into Sanderson, Texas, for a brief meal stop. Fitzsimmons and some of the El Paso civic leaders occupied the dining car, but the cook there could not serve the thousands of fight fans on board. Pete Maher decided to forego the meal for once, and instead chose to get a run in and stretch his legs. A battle royal ensued among hungry passengers racing to the few restaurants in town.

“Let’s see if we can get something here,” Thomas suggested, steering Laney toward one of the restaurants that seemed less crowded than the others. “You’ve got to be hungry.”

She nodded, grateful that he had not insisted upon going straight to Dannell and confronting him. She wanted nothing more than to curb the rumble in her stomach and get an opportunity to see how bad she must look. “I haven’t had anything since that cinnamon roll yesterday.”

“Hold tight, they’re all pushing.” He guided her through the horde of people to a table occupied by three men who wore Ranger badges. When one of them glanced up from his meal and saw Laney approaching, she could tell that she must look a frightful mess. Sympathy washed over his face as he stood and grabbed his plate. “Y’all sit here. I’m done.”

“Thank you, Ranger.” Laney smiled and accepted the seat. “Do I look
that
bad?” she whispered.

“Don’t worry about it.” Thomas shook his head and allowed another woman seeking a seat to take the unoccupied chair. He pressed a kiss on the top of Laney’s head. “I’m going to see if they have a biscuit or some hardtack we can take with us. There isn’t enough time to order a plate. It won’t get here before the train whistle.” He patted her shoulder. “I’ll see if someone’s got a brush I can buy off them.”

When he walked away, Laney glanced around the room and realized that she didn’t need to worry about her state of grooming. Everyone was in such a rush to eat they had no time to concern themselves with anyone else.

“Hey, Chinaman, get the lead out of your boots,” complained a dapper-looking gentleman sitting at the next table with a group of men.

The Chinese waiter continued to slowly place the bowls of soup in front of each customer.

The complainer stood, grabbed a table caster and started to get the waiter’s attention by conking him on the head. One of the Rangers sitting next to Laney checked the gentleman’s arm in mid-swing. “Don’t hit that man,” he requested, maintaining his iron grip.

The complainer stared at the tough Ranger and said, “Maybe you’d like to take it up.”

“I done took it up,” the Ranger replied calmly.

The two men faced each other, and a hush fell over the crowded room. This was not the sort of fight anyone had planned to see and spectators might get hurt. Laney prepared to dive under the table.

“Well, Bat Masterson, you old cuss,” Thomas announced, making his way back to Laney’s table. “I see you’ve met Ranger McDonald here from Amarillo. Saved me the effort of introducing the two of you.”

“
Bill
McDonald?” Masterson stared at the man whose grip remained on his arm. Everyone knew that the fiercest Ranger of all could pick cherries with a rifle. No one wanted to get into gunplay with him.

Bat smiled. “Any man’s a friend of Longbow’s, he’s a friend of mine.”

“Then I’d take it kindly if you let that man finish serving his soup.”

Bat relaxed and set down the caster. “Soup’s getting cold anyway.”

When Masterson and McDonald both took their chairs again, the roomful of people seemed to exhale all at once.

Laney was proud of Thomas and how he’d handled the situation with an expertise that must have come from long years as a Ranger. He was a man who knew how to handle other men and how to calm a fight. There were a million things more she wanted to know about him and the thought of discovering all there was that made up such a man seemed a thrilling prospect.

But just as quickly as that thought came, another dampened it. What about her own life would excite him? How would a man like Thomas find contentment being tied to one place and a woman with a child who was not his? They hadn’t talked of Gideon other than her need to regain custody of the boy. Could Thomas accept him as his own? Did he want other children?

This rush of love she felt for the Ranger had come so quick that she hadn’t thought out everything else their lives together would involve. She didn’t even know if he would remain a Ranger or if he would be willing to make a home in El Paso with her and Gideon.

They needed to talk things out. Make sure that each of them was ready for the changes that would come for both of them. To find a way to perfectly match what each wanted and needed, without hurting the other’s dream.

“You’re looking mighty serious.” Thomas offered her a towel that had been tied to form a makeshift basket. “Hungry?”

“Can we eat on the train?” she asked, wanting to get somewhere alone with him. Suddenly the room of people seemed to be closing in on her.

“Sure. Let’s go.” He scooted back her chair and took her hand, leading her out of the restaurant. “The whistle ought to sound any minute now anyway. We’ll beat the rush. Where would you like to ride?”

“I don’t have a ticket,” she reminded him, knowing the worry in her voice stemmed from more than whether she would be thrown off the train.

“We’ll travel in the car Stuart provided for the Texas Rangers. I’ll pay your fare if anyone has an issue with it. Better yet, I’ll make your brother-in-law pay for it. It would serve him right.”

The mention of Dannell O’Grady seemed to conjure him up in her line of sight. “Isn’t that him there?” she asked, pointing.

Thomas spun to see where she meant. Sure enough, the woman-beater was stepping out of Pete Maher’s tourist car. “I told Sawyer to watch him and not let him leave the train!” Thomas grabbed Laney’s hand and hurried her to a car farther down the train. He reached into his pocket and handed her a hairbrush. “Will you take this and the food and wait for me in there?” he asked, helping her up the two steps that allowed her to board. “You’ll find the Rangers and maybe Judge Townsend inside. Just tell them you’re with me and I’ll explain later. They’ll let you ride.”

“What are you going to do?” She looked down the tracks. “Promise me you won’t do anything to him. He’s not worth it.”

Thomas reached up and gave her a swift kiss. “You’re right, he’s not. But you are.”

“Where do you think you’re going?” Thomas grabbed Dannell O’Grady by the back of his coat and swung him around. “I told you to stay put.”

“Your Ranger friend had to follow Maher. I got hungry. I wasn’t sure when I would get something to eat next.” Fear etched the man’s face, making him unable to keep his jowls from trembling.

Thomas needed to have a talk with Sawyer, but the Ranger was following General Mabry’s instructions about keeping track of the boxer’s whereabouts. Guess he couldn’t put up too much of an argument. “Does Maher know you were in his car?”

“Ask him yourself. I wasn’t doing anything underhanded. He invited me there himself.”

“I will.” Thomas took him by the scruff of the neck and jerked him up the steps that led to Maher’s car. The train whistle sounded and the conductor yelled, “All aboard!”

Dannell O’Grady started sputtering. “There’s no need to be so brutal.”

“Mister, don’t give me a reason,” Thomas warned. “It’s only by the good grace of your sister-in-law that I’m not beating you to within an inch of your worthless hide. I promised her I wouldn’t, but I’m kind of new to this kindness thing. So don’t test me.”

“My sister-in-law?” he squeaked. “Y—you’ve found her?”

“Knock on the door, you weasel,” Thomas ordered and pushed O’Grady forward. “I found her and I’m thinking of making you kitty food at the moment. Big-kitty food.”

Pete Maher answered the door. “Mr. O’Grady? Did you forget something?” He glanced at Thomas and said, “Ranger Longbow, I see you’re acquainted with Mrs. O’Grady’s brother-in-law.”

Thomas pushed Dannell past as Maher stepped aside and allowed them in. “Sit, and don’t make another move, O’Grady.”

Dannell took a seat on one of the chairs near a table beside Maher’s sleeping bunk and grumbled, “See there, I told you that I was here with his knowledge.”

“I was just in the Rangers’ car when I mentioned that I was looking for you.” Puzzlement filled Pete’s face. “I wanted to see if I could give you Mrs. O’Grady’s money. But this chap here said that he was her brother-in-law and he would be glad to see that she got it. I didn’t have it on me because I’d been running, and I didn’t think he was foolish enough to test my good faith. So I had him follow me here to get the cash. He just left here with it.”

“Now, I—I was really going to give it to her.” Dannell started sinking in his seat at both men’s threatening expressions.

“The money for the gloves?” Thomas asked, and received Maher’s nod. He grabbed Dannell and demanded, “Where the hell is it, you boot scum? Every damn dollar of that custody money better be on you.”

Dannell fumbled inside his frock coat and handed Thomas the money. “Here it is. All of it. I haven’t spent any of it.”

Thomas thrust the cash at Maher. “Take that back and don’t give it to anyone else but Laney. This man would cheat her out of her boy, so he’d damn sure cheat her out of that.” Glancing around, Thomas asked, “You got anything made of twine or cord, a rope of any kind? I’m tying him up till we get to Langtry. Then I’ll let Judge Townsend deal with him, or maybe let Roy Bean deal with him. See how much justice he gets then.”

“I’ve got just the thing.” Maher stepped into his water closet and produced a jump rope he used for training. “That ought to do. Where are you going to tie him?”

“Let’s talk to Fitzsimmons. I’ve got just the place. Maybe he won’t go around telling lies about lions after this.”

“No, please,” Dannell begged, struggling as Thomas tied his arms and legs securely. “Not
there!
”

“Is everything okay?” asked Laney as Thomas entered the Rangers’ railcar and took a seat beside her. “Where’s Dannell?”

“Let’s just say he’s tied up for the moment.” Thomas wrapped an arm around her and eyed her closely. “How are you?”

The Rangers had been kind to her, giving her a bench of her own and allowing her to groom herself while they had their backs to her. “I’m fine now,” she assured him. She opened the towel and offered him a biscuit. “I saved this for you. I couldn’t eat much.”

He lightly traced her lips with his thumb. “I wanted to kill the man for doing this to you.”

She clawed the air with her fingers. “He’ll think twice before he ever does it again, I assure you.”

Thomas smiled, his eyes taking in the defiant lift of her chin. She was a scrapper and he loved her for it. “You definitely made your point, but you should never have had to experience that. No woman should.”

“You’re a good man, aren’t you, Thomas?”

Her eyes were asking more than her words, and he wasn’t quite sure how to answer her. “I try to be. Sometimes I fail. I guess all men fall short in some ways.”

“Could you…I mean…would you…do you think yourself capable of being a father? Of living with me and making a home?”

Since he’d met her he’d wanted that. He’d thought of little cinnamon-haired, amber-eyed girls bouncing on his knees. Of a rowdy boy or two to teach all he knew of horses and justice and wrong made right. The adventure of being a husband, a father, a lover, all those things called to him like a lost trail that needed searching. But she was asking about Gideon. Could he love another man’s son?

The answer came as swift and as sure as any decision he’d ever been called upon to make, knowing it was the right thing to do. It seemed one more adventure to test his mettle as a man. “I’d be proud to call Gideon my son, Laney. If you love him, I don’t see how I won’t. At least, I’ll give everything within me to love him as any boy should be loved.”

“Oh, Thomas, that’s what I hoped you’d say.” She didn’t care that they’d promised to be more discreet where they kissed. She had to kiss him now, more than ever before. And she did.

After a few moments, someone cleared his throat. “Is she why you disobeyed my orders, Longbow?”

Thomas looked up. “Yes, General Mabry.”

“Then by all means, son. Continue on.”

Judge Roy Bean met the train personally, but before anyone could ask about where the boxing ring had been set up, General Mabry had all the Texas Rangers assembled, guns at the ready. Other U.S. marshals joined them, clearly outnumbering Bean, who thought himself the only law in this butt-end of Texas wasteland. General Mabry ordered Thomas to go with the judge and take a look at this ringside that supposedly did not violate Texas law.

“I’ll be glad to accommodate you boys.” Judge Bean waved at his Jersey Lilly Saloon. “Why don’t you let the good folks get some liquid refreshment while they wait for us? Only a dollar a bottle and the finest mescal this side of the Rio.”

General Mabry gave the okay and the passengers disembarked for what they hoped would be a quick quenching of their thirst.

“May I go with you, Thomas?” Laney asked, preferring to remain in his company. Though she felt safe with the Rangers, if trouble started she wanted to be with the one Ranger she trusted best.

Judge Bean shook his head. “Little lady, you can come if you like, but the ring is at the bottom of a two-hundred-foot bluff. Then you got to cross a bridge out to the island.”

“An island, you say.” General Mabry’s expression remained stern. “Then it’s not in Texas?”

“It’s ’tween here and the state of Coahuila, Mexico, closer to the Mex side of things if you care to measure. It’ll take them
rurales
in Juarez a couple of good days to get here fast enough to stop the fight. No, General, it ain’t going down in Texas. I’m upholding the law.”

“We’ll wait and see. Longbow, verify the judge’s story.”

“You wait here for me,” Thomas told Laney. “I’ll be back as quick as I can.”

It didn’t take Thomas long to check out the fight site, and Judge Bean was true to his word. Reassured now that no one would be shot for civil disobedience, the well-lubricated crowd hit the trail down the rocky path that led to the beach. Two hundred feet below the canyon’s rim, a pontoon bridge led to a topless tent that surrounded the arena. The battleground had been built on a sandy flat in a big bend of the Rio Grande, and true to Judge Bean’s word, it lay closer to the Mexican shore.

The sky had turned overcast and drizzly, too dark for the Kinetoscope camera, so the photographers could not film. General Mabry decided that since no Texas statutes were being broken, the Rangers would take position on the canyon rim and watch things from there. Laney joined them, sitting on the cliff beside Thomas.

It took a few moments for everyone to get seated and the introduction of the boxers to be made. Laney looked on with pride at the gloves Pete wore, feeling that she had somehow played a small role in the history that was about to be made. She was glad now that he had asked her to hand stitch the last shamrock onto his glove when the train had made its last stop before arriving in Langtry. She wasn’t sure the thread could hold up under the brutality of blows, but she’d done the best she could do without her stamping tools.

The two boxers went to their corners. Fitz wore blue trunks with a sash made of the triple American patriotic colors. Maher’s black trunks reached to his knees and were held up with a belt that honored his Irish homeland. The referee—who, oddly enough, was not Bat Masterson after all—signaled the contenders to meet in the center and shake hands. They did. A whistle blew. Someone yelled, “Time!” and a gong echoed over the cliffside.

Fitz swung two quick punches—a left, then a right. The boxers met in a clinch. Before the referee could order the men to make a clean break, Maher landed a right on Fitzsimmons’s cheek.

“Foul!” cried Fitz, echoed by the spectators.

“If you do that again,” the referee warned Maher, “I’ll call the fight against you.”

“Let it go,” Fitz said, bouncing back and forth on each foot, jabbing the air to show off his striking range. “I’ll lick him anyway.”

Both men went at each other again, swinging, hitting, missing, swinging again. Maher tried to close in, leading with his left. Fitz stepped aside and lashed out with his powerful right arm, his glove landing solidly on Maher’s chin.

Maher twisted halfway around, then came crashing down.

“One.”
He tried to get up.

“Two. Three.”
Fitzsimmons returned to his corner.

“Four. Five.”
The countdown continued.

“
…Ten!
You’re out!”

Laney couldn’t hide her astonishment. “All that delay for a fight that didn’t last two minutes. It doesn’t seem worth all the fuss.”

Thomas wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close. “Oh, I don’t know. I can think of one delay worth the trouble.”

Laney smiled at the undisputed champion of her heart. “You talking about your saddle?”

“That too,” he whispered, “but sixty-five hours isn’t going to be nearly enough time to get this right. I figure it’s gonna take a lifetime.”