A Cowboy for Christmas (3 page)

Miss Helen was glad he hadn’t tried to cause any more trouble. She couldn’t wait for morning to get there, so she could take the necessary steps to reunite him with his adoptive family. At least, the Millers would have a blessed Christmas, getting Nick back.

Sagebrush, Texas

Eleven years later

Hank Moran was filled with rage as he sat at a back table in the Gold Dust Saloon, drinking heavily. The day before, Jack Anderson had fired him from his job as foreman on the Lazy Ace. He’d known Jack had a reputation as being a hard man to work for when he hired on, but he never thought Jack would turn out to be as bad as he was. Hank had hated the time he’d spent working for him and now that he’d been fired, he hated the rancher even more. Humiliated, he kept drinking and planned just how he was going to get even.

Sally had been waiting on Hank since he’d come in several hours earlier. She’d heard the talk about him losing his job and had recognized immediately that he was in one ugly mood. She’d made it a point to stay away from him except to serve his whiskey, for she knew from experience Hank would look for a fight when he got this drunk.

As Sally made her way toward Hank’s table to get him a refill of whiskey, she noticed the good-looking stranger who’d just walked into the saloon.
Tall and darkly handsome, the new man stood out in a room crowded with drunken, rowdy, unwashed ranch hands. She offered him a quick smile but kept moving. She’d definitely find the time to see what he wanted as soon as she could, but right then she had to get Hank’s drink to him before he started trouble.

“Here you go, Hank.”

“ ’Bout time you got here,” he snapped.

“Wanted to make sure it was just perfect for you,” she purred, trying not to sound irritated as she set the tumbler of whiskey before him. “You look like you could use some fun, Hank.”

“There’s only one thing I want to do,” Hank snarled.

“What’s that?” she asked, believing he was going to say he wanted to get bedded that night.

Hank looked up at her. “I want to get even with Jack Anderson for what he did to me.”

His expression was so full of hate, Sally found herself feeling very uneasy around him. “Well, for right now, drink up, and enjoy yourself.”

She moved away, hoping to get a chance to flirt with the new fella, who was making his way up to the bar.

Dan had taken a quick look around the saloon and then gone to the bar to order a shot of whiskey.

“You’re new in town, aren’t you?” the bartender asked as he set the tumbler on the bar and filled it with a generous amount of liquor.

“Just rode in this afternoon. Nice town you’ve
got here. Seems real peaceful,” Dan said, pushing the money for the drink across the bar to him.

“You want trouble, just show up on payday weekends. Things can get a little wild then, but you’re right—for the most part it’s pretty quiet here in Sagebrush, and we like it that way.”

“That’s good to hear,” Dan said, and he meant it. In the years he’d been on his own, he’d moved around a lot. He’d been in some real bad places and he’d met some real bad people. He’d been through hard times, but he’d managed to survive by working hard, learning how to use a gun, and watching his own back. He knew no one else was going to do that for him. He had to take care of himself.

“You need anything else, just yell. My name’s Wayne.”

Dan just nodded to him as he lifted his glass to take a drink. He was ready to settle in and relax for a while.

“You got everything you need, handsome?” asked a saloon girl as she sashayed up next to him. She leaned back against the bar to give him a full view of the low-cut bodice of her dress and smiled brightly.

“Now that you’re here, I do.” He returned her smile. “Can I buy you a drink?”

“I’d like that a lot.”

Dan signaled Wayne, and the bartender moved back down to the end of the bar to see what he wanted.

“Give the lady whatever she wants,” Dan said, paying him.

“I do like the way you think.” She gave him a look full of promise.

Wayne poured the drink and was about to move away to take care of his other customers when Jack Anderson walked into the saloon. The hair on the back of Wayne’s neck rose. Considering the mood Hank was in, this was trouble. He just hoped the former foreman stayed so busy drinking that he wouldn’t notice Jack at the bar. Wayne wanted to avoid any kind of fight between the two men tonight.

“Evening, Jack,” Wayne said, keeping his voice down. He set about pouring the rancher a glass of his favorite bourbon. He wanted to ask how everything was going out at the Lazy Ace, but hesitated. “What brings you to town tonight?”

“I had a few things I had to—”

“Anderson?”

Hank’s shout brought a sudden silence to the room.

Jack hadn’t noticed Hank when he’d come in, but it didn’t surprise him to hear the man’s slurred yell from the back of the room. Hank had proven himself to be nothing but a drunken troublemaker right from the start, and Jack was glad he’d finally gotten rid of him. Jack kept his drink in his hand as he slowly turned to look in Hank’s direction.

“Yes, Hank?” Jack said calmly. He didn’t want
any trouble with the fool. He just wanted him to move on.

Hank was as drunk as he’d ever been, and his fury was real as he stood, knocking his chair over in the effort. He staggered toward the bar, ready for a fight.

One of the other men sitting at a nearby table knew what was going to happen, and he got up, hoping to stop Hank from doing anything too stupid. He grabbed Hank’s arm, but Hank hit him savagely, and the man fell heavily to the floor.

Hank gave the other men standing around a threatening look. “Get away from me! All of you!”

Dan had dealt with men like this one before, and he knew what was coming. He moved away from the bar and drew the young barmaid with him.

“Get out of sight,” Dan told her in a low voice as others in the room scrambled to avoid getting caught up in the coming confrontation.

“Hank’s out for revenge,” she whispered frantically. “Jack just threw him off his ranch.”

Dan nodded to her and turned back to watch the two men as they faced each other down.

Jack’s expression was one of disgust as he set his drink aside. He slowly looked at the drunken fool who’d come to stand before him. “It’s over and done with, Hank. Let it go.”

“No, it’s not over and done with,” Hank threatened.

“Yes,” Jack inisisted, “it is.”

He started to turn his back. He hoped ignoring him would make him go away, but it didn’t work.

Jack’s actions only enraged Hank even more. Hank drew his gun and held it straight at the other man. “You’re wrong, Jack!”

“Hank, put the gun away,” Wayne ordered from behind the bar, more than a little tense. He never thought Hank would be stupid enough to draw his gun.

As a bartender, he’d seen this many times—stupid men doing stupid things when they were trying to prove they weren’t stupid. Wayne knew Hank didn’t realize he was only showing everyone just how right Jack had been to fire him. Wayne edged toward the end of the bar where he kept his shotgun.

“Don’t even think about going for your shotgun, Wayne,” Hank raged, glaring around the room. “And the rest of you, stay out of this! This is between the boss and me.” He looked back to Jack and motioned toward the door. “Move, Jack. Go on, get outside.”

“There’s nothing to be gained from this,” Wayne warned him. Instead of stepping up to help, his other patrons were backing off. They knew how dangerous Hank was when he got this drunk. Wayne could only hope someone had managed to sneak out the back without Hank seeing him and go for the sheriff.

Dan knew the drunken fool had murder on his mind. He glanced around the saloon and realized no one else was going to do anything to help. He was going to have to stop the drunk by himself. Dan waited just long enough for Anderson to reach the swinging doors before making his move.

“Anderson, run!” Dan shouted as he charged forward and launched himself at Hank.

Hank panicked and got off one wild shot in Jack’s direction just as Dan tackled him from his blind side. They crashed to the floor in a violent struggle, rolling savagely around until Dan was able to knock the gun out of Hank’s hand.

In all his years on his own, Dan had become pretty good at fighting. He finally managed to overpower Hank and knock him unconscious. Grabbing up the gun, Dan got to his feet and stood over him. He watched Hank for a moment, wanting to make sure he wasn’t going to cause any more trouble.

Wayne rushed to his side, armed with his shotgun, ready to help.

“That was real brave of you,” he told the stranger, impressed by his quick action. He had little doubt the man had saved Jack’s life, and then, thinking of Jack, he yelled, “Jack! You all right?”

Jack came back in through the swinging doors, holding his bloodied upper arm. “He winged me, but it’s not bad.” Jack turned to the newcomer, his expression serious. “I owe you my life.”

“I was glad to help,” Dan offered, relieved the older man hadn’t been more seriously wounded.

“What’s your name?” Jack asked.

“Dan Roland.”

“Well, Dan Roland, I’m Jack Anderson, and I want to buy you a drink.” Jack looked to Wayne.

The crowd in the saloon had moved in closer to see what had happened now that all the fighting and shooting were over.

“Harry! Charley! Get Hank over to Sheriff Thompson at the jail. Now!” Wayne yelled to two of his regulars. “Tell him what happened and make sure he locks Hank up.”

The two men grabbed the unconscious man and hauled him away.

“Carl, go get the doc,” Wayne instructed another man sitting at the far end of the bar. “Jack needs his arm looked after.”

Carl hurried to do as the barkeep had ordered.

“Jack, let’s tie that arm up with this towel, till Doc Clemens gets here.” Wayne hurried back behind the bar to put his shotgun away and get one of the bar towels. He went back to Jack and quickly helped bind his upper arm to stop the blood flow. That done, he got his bottle of bourbon and refilled Jack’s glass. “I’m thinking you could use a stiff one right now. Drink up—on the house.”

“Thanks, Wayne,” Jack said. “Give my new friend Dan Roland here whatever he wants. I’m buying his.”

Wayne looked to Dan. “Want some of my bourbon?”

“That’ll be fine,” Dan told him.

“Looks like we were both wrong, thinking it was a peaceful night in Sagebrush,” the barkeep said as he quickly served him his drink and refilled Jack’s glass again.

Dan couldn’t help smiling. “I was going to say, if this was peaceful, I can imagine what your payday weekends are like.”

Wayne chuckled as he moved away.

“Let’s go sit down,” Jack invited, taking up his glass and leading the way over to a table.

Calm returned to the saloon.

“Do you always jump into fights that aren’t your own?” Jack asked as they sat down again.

Dan took a drink of his liquor and gave him a half smile. “Only if I think somebody could use my help.”

“That can get you into trouble sometimes,” Jack joked.

“I know. It already has,” Dan returned.

“What brought you to Sagebrush? Are you passing through or planning on staying around for a while?”

“I was just passing through when I rode in.”

“You need work?”

“You hiring?”

Jack looked him straight in the eye as he answered, “You got any ranching experience?”

“I do.”

“The foreman’s job is open at the Lazy Ace. Are you interested?”

“I am.”

They were about to say more when Doc Clemens hurried into the saloon carrying his black bag. He stopped just inside the doors. “What’s this I hear? Did Jack get shot?”

“He’s over at the table in back, Doc,” Wayne directed.

“Well, he can’t be hurting too bad if he’s still sitting here drinking,” he remarked with a grin when he spotted Jack downing his drink at the table across the room. He went over to treat his wound. “Got yourself in more trouble, did you, Jack?”

“Don’t I always, Doc?” He and the doctor had known each other for years and were good friends.

The doctor put his bag on the table and quickly untied the towel. He tore away what was left of his shirtsleeve and set about examining his arm.

“You were one real lucky man, Jack,” Doc Clemens said as he set about cleaning the wound. “It just grazed you. You’re going to be sore for a time, but it isn’t serious.”

Jack grimaced a little as the doctor poured alcohol on the wound. He took another drink of his bourbon and locked his jaw against the pain as he waited for him to finish.

“There.” The doctor finished wrapping the wound in a clean bandage. “That should do you.”

“Thanks, Doc,” Jack said as he paid him.

“You’re welcome. I’m just glad it wasn’t anything worse. You stay out of trouble, Jack.”

“I’m trying,” he told him with a half laugh.

“Just keep drinking your bourbon for the pain.”

“I like your kind of doctoring.”

“I thought you would. What’s going to happen to Hank? He isn’t going to get out of jail and come after you again, is he?”

Wayne spoke up from behind the bar. “No, I’m sure the sheriff will keep him locked up. We got a lot of witnesses who heard Hank threaten Jack and saw him take the shot at him. He won’t get off easy on this one.”

“Can I buy you a drink, Doc?” Jack offered.

“I appreciate the offer, but I need to get back to the office. If it gives you any real trouble, just let me know.”

“I will.”

Jack looked over at Dan again once the doctor had gone. “So, did I just hire myself a new foreman?”

“Yes, sir. You did,” Dan answered, meeting his gaze straight on.

“Welcome to the Lazy Ace.”

Three years later

The Lazy Ace

After a few days away working stock, Dan was real glad to be back at the ranch to get a hot meal and sleep in a clean, warm bed. He dismounted and was starting to unsaddle his horse when Fred, the bunkhouse cook, came out to speak with him.

“It’s good you’re here,” Fred began.