The Texan's Reward (11 page)

one else would benefit.

Fat Alice, despite what a few good folks in town suggested, was highly thought of by most. She ran a clean house

and in the town’s early days acted as hospital and doctor many times. She always let anyone traveling through

without money for a hotel stay in her barn, and more often than not served breakfast before sending them on

their way. She’d done her best for Nel , and for that one kindness, Jacob figured she’d get to heaven.

Alice died working one spring while Nell was away at school. The undertaker, her last customer, did the service

free.

Since Nel inherited, the house had been painted and cleaned up inside and out. Gypsy had lived in a back room

until Nel came home. She’d fed the horses and kept the place clean more because she didn’t have anywhere to

go than because she wanted to stay. When Nell asked her to remain, she’d stayed drunk for three days to

celebrate. Then she’d started cleaning and, near as Jacob could tel , she hadn’t stopped yet.

Though some folks wished the house and its memories would go away, Jacob couldn’t see anyone trying to

make it happen.

The shooting couldn’t have been random. That was why Jacob had to try to find the shooter. He didn’t like the

idea of leaving Nel alone with Number Twelve, but he had no choice. Finding out why someone wanted to kil

her had to rank as more important than worrying about who she planned to marry.

He swore at the moon. Why couldn’t she have been happy with how things were? Why’d she think she had to

have a husband? It made no sense.

Jacob laughed. Neither did the kiss, he thought. Nel couldn’t have looked more shocked if he’d pinched her.

Maybe she didn’t think of him in the way a woman thinks of a man who might kiss her.

He didn’t like the idea that him kissing her was probably the last thing on her mind. But he knew it had to be

true. When he’d offered marriage, she didn’t consider the possibility for even a minute. And in truth, the

thought hadn’t crossed his mind, either, until she’d gone crazy and put out an ad for a husband. He and the kid

had always been friends. She’d probably be more receptive to the old sheriff ’s proposal of marriage than his.

But friends could become lovers. Couldn’t they? He wasn’t sure. In truth he couldn’t remember hearing about it

ever happening. A man doesn’t talk to a friend the way he talks to a woman who might be crawling into his bed.

If they married, Nel wouldn’t be able to claim she didn’t know him. She’d seen him at his best and worst.

And he’d seen her grow up. When he looked at her he couldn’t help but see a little of Two Bits, the child who

stole his heart. Only lately, the person before him was a mystery. How did such a skinny kid grow into a woman

curved in all the right places?

Jacob tossed another log on the fire and listened to the wind. An animal moved somewhere in the trees, letting

out a soft cal of alarm. He knew nothing would come close with the fire burning, but stil , he brushed the handle

of his Colt as he went back to thinking about Nell.

She tasted great. He couldn’t remember other lips being so soft. Closing his eyes, he tried to remember the last

time he’d kissed a woman.

Before Nell’s accident, he realized. When she’d sent him a telegram that her friends were in trouble, he’d been

seeing a widow in El Paso from time to time. He’d heard that he wasn’t the widow’s only cal er, but he didn’t

much care. She’d been friendly, offering samples of her charms, but not willing to give in completely until he

offered marriage. And, even if he’d thought marriage might have been a good idea, her six kids quickly sobered

him up.

After Nel had been hurt, Jacob never returned to the widow, even though he’d pass within a mile of her house

once in a while.

He didn’t want to spend too much time wondering why. The wind carried the sound again. A cry like a smal

animal might make if caught in the beak of an owl.

He closed his eyes and told himself to get some sleep. He’d ride out at dawn, but if he didn’t pick up the trail, he

knew he would be headed home by noon. He wanted the shooter, but the prospect of making it in for supper

tomorrow night seemed promising.

The noise came again. Stronger. Louder. Some animal sounded like it suffered in the trees just beyond his fire.

Jacob rol ed to his feet, wide awake. With his Colt ready, he moved into the shadows. He’d free the creature if

he could, but if not, he’d at least set it free from pain. Jacob could take as much pain as the next man, maybe

more, but he couldn’t stand to see animals suffer.

The trees grew close together, winding down into a dried-up creek bed. Jacob moved through the darkness as

soundlessly as an Apache.

The cry tore at his nerves. It sounded almost like sobbing, the kind of bawling al animals, including humans, do

when they know death is near.

Jacob circled first one tree, then another, moving blindly toward the racket. He stepped over a stream no wider

than his hand.

The ground rose on the other side of the creek bed. He hesitated, guessing he must be a quarter mile by now

from his camp. For a moment, he listened. If the cries had been a trick, someone might plan to steal his horse.

Dusty would be pitching a fit about now. The horse hated anything on two feet except Jacob, and sometimes

Jacob wasn’t too sure Dusty liked him.

Jacob heard nothing. Only the sound of sobbing now. Human sobbing!

He ran as the trees thinned and a clearing appeared. In the pale moonlight, he made out the shape of a woman.

Short. Rounded. Her head bowed low as she cried.

Slowing, he tried to figure out how to approach without frightening her. Maybe she was lost, or her horse had

thrown her.

“Miss?” he said. “Miss, are you all right?”

She looked up, her sobs silenced by her sudden intake of breath.

He saw the fear in her young face. Panic made her eyes wide and liquid.

“It’s all right,” he hurried to add as he holstered his Colt. “I’m a Texas Ranger. Is there something I can do to help you?”

His gaze darted around. Maybe someone had robbed her and her parents. Her parents might have been kil ed or

gone for help. She looked too young to be left out here alone. She might be fifteen or so, almost grown but not

quite. Even in her coat, he could tel she was wel rounded, a plump body to match her plump cheeks. “Are you

hurt?”

She shook her head, curls bouncing around her face. He moved closer while she shoved tears away with her

sleeve. “Do you live around here, miss?”

She shook her head again.

He studied her, wondering if she could talk. Her clothes were well-made and relatively clean, except for her

sleeves. She hadn’t been lost long. He saw no ropes or gag, so she hadn’t been kidnapped. There appeared to be

no bruises or cuts, so she hadn’t been mistreated in any way that he could see.

“Do you have any supplies? Water? Food?”

She looked at her hands, and he knew the answer.

“How’d you get here?” He stood five feet away. Close enough to see her in the moonlight, but not so close he’d

frighten her. “If you don’t mind telling me.” They had to be fifty miles or more from any town, and if there had

been a farm near, he would have seen some sign of it.

She took a deep breath and looked at him as if her answer wouldn’t matter, but she’d tell him anyway. “My pa

drove all night and most of a day to drop me off here. He says hell will freeze over before he comes back.” She

hugged herself. “It’s getting cold, but I don’t think that wil happen, do you?”

Jacob smiled. “No, I don’t.” He’d seen some crazy things, but this beat all for parents trying to teach their

children a lesson. Near as he could tel she had no supplies, not even a canteen, and no weapon. “You hungry?”

She nodded. “I haven’t eaten in days. I left this clearing a few times to get a drink and once to stand under the

trees when it rained. The water in the creek is mostly mud.”

“How long you been here?”

“This will be my third night.” Her eyes were swollen from crying. “I don’t think he’s going to come back to get

me. At first I didn’t want to walk, because I was sure he’d be back. But my hope’s fading.”

Jacob didn’t want to have her start crying again, so he said, “I’ve got a little food and good water back through

the trees. If you want some, you’re welcome to it.”

She stood slowly, leaning back to shift her center of gravity.

He fought to keep his face frozen as he realized the girl was pregnant . . . big pregnant. He offered his hand and

careful y led her through the trees. She waddled like a duck beside him, holding a hand over her middle as if

protecting a treasure.

Jacob was too busy silently swearing at himself to talk to her. He seemed to be developing a habit of saving

young girls. First Nel , now this one. Couldn’t the Good Lord take pity on him and send a dozen outlaws to him

instead?

The girl started sniffling again like a little round train chugging through the trees.

Two dozen outlaws, he thought, with guns drawn, would be an easier find.

When they reached his camp, he made a seat for her on a log and handed her the sack of food. She ate the rol s

first and then finished off the meat and apples while he built up the fire.

“Want to tell me where you live?” he asked as he passed her his canteen. He didn’t like the idea of delay, but he

couldn’t leave her here. He’d have to see her to safety before continuing on. A day lost, or even a few hours,

would probably mean he couldn’t catch the shooter.

“On a farm,” she answered, then let out a little cry. “Am I stil in Texas? He didn’t take me to the Oklahoma

Territory, did he? Our farm’s in Texas.”

“That narrows it down considerably.” Jacob shrugged. “And you’ve got to cross the Red River to set foot in the

Territory, so we’re still in Texas.”

She looked like she might cry so he asked, “How about telling me what direction we need to head out in the

morning? With the rain two nights ago, I doubt I’ll be able to find any tracks your pa’s wagon might have made.

If you give me the town closest to your folks’ farm, I can take you back there, and they’d see that you get home.”

He hadn’t helped matters by asking questions. A fat tear rol ed down her cheek. “I can’t go back. My pa told me

if I tried coming home with this bastard still in me, he’d kill us both.”

Now Jacob understood. “What about the baby’s father?”

She shook her head. “I wouldn’t tel my pa who he is, and I won’t tel you either. Not even if you lock me up.”

He smiled. “I’m not in the habit of arresting young ladies for being pregnant. All I meant was that maybe the

father of your child will make things right.”

To his surprise, she raised her chin. “I asked the boy I thought I would love forever just like he claimed he loved

me. He said he’d swear nothing ever happened, so I guess his forever ain’t as long as mine. His pa found out and

claimed he’d see me dead before he’d let me marry his only son on account of I’m the dumbest one in my

family.” She swallowed and added, “And it’s a big family. Eleven brothers and sisters, not counting steps and

halves.”

She rubbed her eyes. “I’ve been trying to think of something to do. If I somehow find my way home, pa wil kil

me. If I go to Teddie, his pa will kill me. It’s been three days, and al I’ve figured out is I must not be bright

enough to live. My stepma tells me I’m not worth feeding. I thought she hated me because I look like my ma, but

lately I’ve figured out that maybe she just hates me.”

“You got a lot of people wanting to kill you for such a young girl.”

“True.” She sighed. “Before you came along, I’d decided to fool them al and kil myself. Only, I couldn’t think of

a way that wouldn’t hurt. That’s why I was crying, on account of being a coward.”

Jacob had to smile at her logic. “How old are you?”

“I’ll be sixteen next fall,” she answered with a yawn. “If I live that long.”

He handed her his only blanket. “How about we turn in and talk about it in the morning.”

She slid off the log and curled into a bal . “Al right. I’ve been too cold and scared to sleep. The night’s long when you’re afraid to close your eyes.”

As she settled, he asked one last question. “Want to tell me your name?”

“Wednesday,” she mumbled. “Wednesday May. I was born the first Wednesday in May. My mom wasn’t big on

thinking of names.”

“Good night, Miss May.”

“Good night, Ranger.”

NELL SAT ON THE PORCH MOST OF THE AFTERNOON, A Winchester across her legs in case trouble rode in

before Jacob returned. Part of her hoped he lost the trail. She didn’t like to think of him out there alone, maybe

riding into an ambush. If the man who’d fired at her bedroom window had been such a good shot and, according

to Jacob, a great horseman as well, wasn’t there the possibility he might be able to set a trap and catch even a

Texas Ranger off guard?

Closing her eyes, she pushed the image of a wounded Jacob out of her head. She couldn’t bear thinking that he

might suffer the same pain she had when she’d been ambushed. The memory of lying in the sun waiting for

them to come closer to kil her. The feel of her own blood soaking her body. The knowing that she was helpless

and could do nothing to change her fate. Al crossed her mind as she waited.

A vision of him spread on the ground like a broken doll flashed across her mind once more. Nell forced it aside.

His life was one of danger. He knew what he was doing. He’d be fine, she told herself. He always had been. Think