Give Me A Texas Ranger (26 page)

The day was already heating up to be a scorcher and it was barely midmorning. February in El Paso could give Satan a sunburn. Not having to worry about the train ride from Las Cruces to follow Maher back to El Paso, Thomas had gladly retrieved the black stallion from the livery stable and took a long morning ride. He missed the old days of galloping rides and of justice meted out swiftly. Today, it was all about riding the rails to get from one place to the other and catching cattle rustlers. Hell, the legislature would probably have them start using those new-fangled bicycles for transportation in order to cut the budget for horse feed.

As a cadet fresh from West Point, Thomas had headed back home to join the Texas Rangers, after fulfilling his military obligation, believing in the code they lived by and their role in the protection of his state. Seven years he’d lived and breathed the spartan existence, not resting his boots under any particular bed, riding where the wind and a criminal led him, living by the code to see wrong things made right. The adventure of it had always called to him and he loved the sound of its voice.

Maybe that’s why this assignment pestered him so much. He felt no sense of anticipation that he was going to learn something new, help someone who needed him, right some terrible wrong. True, stopping a fight of some sort was what he did best. It seemed there was always somebody taking on somebody else. But trying to stop a fight from taking place when everyone in Texas other than the politicians wanted it, didn’t appeal to Thomas’s sense of wrong made right.

Last night when he’d come to Laney’s defense, he’d almost wished her coffee guest would have dared to defy him. Thomas was aching for something more rough-and-tumble than his current assignment. He didn’t go out looking for trouble, yet neither did he shy away from it. Putting the man in his place might have been just the thing to ease some of this cagey tension that had filled Thomas the past three weeks in El Paso.

“Well, Justice”—Thomas reined the stallion toward town—“are you about ready to get yourself measured by the feistiest gal this side of the border?” The Ranger chuckled at how she’d dared to insinuate that she was going to measure
him,
for pistol’s sake. He had thought she joked at the time, but after hearing some of her conversation with that wrist bender last night, Thomas didn’t doubt for one moment now that she had meant to do just what she said. Laney O’Grady wasn’t a woman who shied easily, and he wasn’t the sort who would have been measured without showing just exactly how attracted he was to her.

The prospect of having her hands on him added heat to his speculations and, unconsciously, he nudged Justice to speed up his gait. When he reached the saddle shop, Thomas tied his mount to the hitching post and asked a passing stranger for the time.

The gentleman opened his pocket watch. “Five minutes until ten, sir.”

Thomas thanked the man. Just on time, he thought. He knew Maher to be a particularly punctual man when it came to appointments, so Thomas had enough time to establish himself in the shop without looking like he had deliberately scheduled to be there in conjunction with Maher’s visit.

The bell jangled as he entered the shop. To his surprise, the smell of cinnamon permeated the air and Laney was there waiting for him across the counter. His stomach grumbled and he didn’t know if it was from the delicious aroma wafting from the cloth-lined basket sitting on the counter, or whether his hunger had been stirred by the morning freshness of Laney’s beauty.

“Good morning, Thomas. I thought that would be you. Right on time, I see.”

“Oh?” Thomas raked his memory. “I don’t recall saying I’d be here at any particular time.”

“True, but Mr. Maher did, and he’s due any moment.” Laney smiled sweetly. “I had a feeling you’d come in about the same time.”

Clever girl. She knew she had him.
Well, round one goes to you,
he thought. “Never miss an opportunity for a story, I always say.”

“I’m glad you’re here a little early. I wanted to say a personal thank-you.” She lifted the basket and held it out to him. “Cinnamon rolls. I hope you’re hungry.”

For more than you think.
Thomas opened the cloth and reached for one of the rolls, so fresh that the icing was still melting down the swirls of cinnamon. “I haven’t had one of these since…” He couldn’t finish. As the taste of the roll hit his lips, Thomas’s eyes closed and he thought he had died and gone to heaven. Sweetness blended with buttery heat, sliding down his tongue and stirring a long-denied sweet tooth. Campsite food rarely allowed time for baking pastries. “My God, woman,” he said in appreciation, “you’re one hell of a cook.”

Opening his eyes proved Thomas’s undoing. In that instant, he noticed her tongue licking a drip of icing on her own lips and it sent blood racing through his veins like Justice gone wild on locoweed. He quickly stuffed another roll in his mouth to avoid just reaching over and licking it off of her himself.

“I’m glad you like them,” she said, putting him through further misery as she licked a couple of her fingers. “I’m too messy with them myself. I get them all over me, as you can see.” She held up her forefinger and then stuck it in her mouth and sucked slowly. When she finished, she sighed. “I have to keep my fingers clean so that I don’t stain my leatherwork.”

Thomas was a betting man. Every instinct told him that she’d licked that last finger on purpose.
Thank
him? Yeah, right. The woman was toying with him.
So, round two goes to you too.

He pushed the basket back toward her. “Two’s plenty for me.”

She placed the basket under the counter. “You can have the rest when you leave, if you like. I’ll go wash my hands and be right back. I think I hear Mr. Maher coming now.”

Thomas had been so caught up in his heated thoughts that he’d assumed the thundering beat he heard was lust speeding up his heartbeat. Now that he really listened, he could tell it was the tramp of hundreds keeping pace along the wooden sidewalk. Maher wasn’t alone today.

Laney soon returned with the writing ledger Thomas had seen yesterday. She laid it on the counter and opened it, noticed he was watching her, then quickly closed it.

“I know you arrived first this morning,” she began, “but since you knew his appointment was exactly at ten and I wouldn’t really have time to discuss your saddle at the moment, I hope you won’t mind waiting until I’m finished with Mr. Maher.”

He couldn’t argue. It was only fair. Besides, Maher might distract her long enough for Thomas to get a chance at the ledger. “Go right ahead. I’ll wait. I’ll just look around at your goods.”

The boxer entered, followed by a short, portly man and an older man Thomas recognized as Dan Stuart himself, the fight promoter. The portly man waved away the remainder of the crowd, insisting that no one else follow them in. He didn’t appear to be much of a bodyguard, Thomas decided, but then as the owner of two of the world’s deadliest fists, Maher could defend himself.

“A good morning to you, lass,” the boxer greeted her, tightening the belt around his training robe. “Do forgive me for showing up in my running clothes. I’d have doffed my hat to you, if I’d had it with me.”

“No need to apologize, Mr. Maher. A man works in the clothes of his trade.” Laney stepped around the counter and offered her hand.

One brow arched over his barely opened eye. “See there, Stuart, what did I tell you? She’s the one. Not one of those faint and fawners. She looks a man right in the eye, she does, and full of spit and vinegar I’d be guessing.”

You’d be guessing right,
Thomas conceded to the man’s insight. Now why was that so all-fired important to the boxer? Thomas stepped closer to the showy saddle on the sawhorse, drawing him nearer to the ledger.

“This big galoot is Dan Stuart, lass, the brassiest promoter what ever latched his moniker to the fight arena.”

Thomas smelled more than cinnamon in the air. These three were up to something. He just hoped she wasn’t in on it. The thought of arresting her appealed to him even less than before he ate the rolls.

The elderly man tipped his hat. “Ma’am.”

“And this squat body is my trainer—”

“Don’t take too long, Pete,” the trainer interrupted before Maher could complete his introduction. “Cool down too much and you’ll lose that last mile of workout. You’ll have to add another before lunch.”

Maher’s mustache lifted above a broad grin. “Can’t have that, can we, Stuart? A man’s gotta eat.”

The boxer’s eating habits were near-legendary. He was known to consume two whole chickens, a round of four or five vegetables, a loaf of bread, and two apple pies in one sitting.

Thomas noticed a heaping pile of unshaped leather on her work table. She must have been in the middle of something when he’d interrupted her this morning.

The older man nodded. “And we need to be checking with Fitz about that other matter we discussed.”

Thomas had inched forward just enough to reach the ledger when Stuart’s words stopped him in his tracks. He glanced up and saw a look of knowing pass between the promoter and the boxer. Fitzsimmons? Other matter? Something was going down about the location. He felt it. Sensed that Laney somehow held the key.

“How’s my order coming along, lass?” Maher asked. “Any trouble with what we discussed?”

Laney looked up and realized where Thomas stood. “Thomas, if you’ll excuse us a moment and please step back around the counter, I’ll show Mr. Maher what I’ve done.”

She grabbed the ledger and put it in her apron, just as she’d put Thomas in his place. “No problem,” he said, reluctantly taking a seat out front that had been provided for waiting customers.

Even Stuart and the trainer remained on this side of the counter.

Maher’s and Laney’s backs were now turned away from Thomas and he could only guess at what they were looking at. Suddenly one of the unshaped pieces of leather was flung over Laney’s shoulder.

“Does that suit you?” she asked. “Meet with your specifications?”

Now, why didn’t I look under that pile?
Thomas berated himself.
Leave no stone unturned.
This delay was making him lazy. The woman was distracting him.

A moment passed before Maher’s head bobbed. “It’s exactly what we’ll be needing, lass. Couldn’t be better. You’ve a fine eye.”

“I looked everywhere yesterday and spotted exactly what I thought you were wanting. It won’t take nearly as much arranging as I assumed it might. I have a lot of sources I can use.”

She’s almost confessing her part in it!

“Can you complete the task by the end of the week, is what I need to know,” Dan Stuart interjected. “A lot rides on it.”

“Maybe sooner,” Laney said, the piece of leather disappearing from her shoulder before both she and Maher turned around. She motioned for the boxer to lead the way around the counter. “It’s not going to take anywhere near as long as I thought it might.”

“Good.” Stuart exhaled a long breath. “Pete’s eyes are getting better by the day. Sooner is better on all accounts.”

Maher glanced at Thomas and paused. “Don’t I know you?”

Thomas stood, guessing that the game was up. Maher was no man’s fool.

“He’s a reporter. He wants to interview you.”

“Stop by the Vendome at lunchtime. I grant interviews while I eat. You know their restaurant?”

“He knows,” Laney answered for him.

Maher bid Laney good-bye and said he’d return tomorrow about the same time.

When the men had gone, Thomas stood. “Well, I guess I should thank you for setting that up for me.”

Laney pulled the ledger from her pocket and set it on the counter. “You’re welcome,
Ranger.
”

“How long have you known?” Thomas didn’t even attempt to deny the charge. What surprised him was that she had elected not to confront him with the truth in front of the others. Stuart and Maher both would have been hot in their handlebars if they’d known he was a Ranger and they’d been discussing anything in front of him. He’d felt certain Maher had recognized him and had been ready to call him on it.

“Since last night at the Vendome.” She motioned toward the door. “Are you ready to get down to business?”

Never were truer words spoken. “I am. Just what gave me away?” he asked, opening the door for her. She passed in front of him, making Thomas aware that the top of her head came to the tip of his nose. Strange, but he could have sworn she met him eye to eye every time he had looked at her previously. Laney O’Grady had that kind of effect on a man, he decided.

“You gave yourself away when you came to my defense so readily with my brother-in-law. You looked like the archangel Michael himself, ready to tear Dannell’s soul out of him. That, with the fact that you sat with all those other men who were obviously some of the Texas Rangers we all know are in town, and the fact that you didn’t have any writing material with you, I just put two and two together. What I haven’t figured out yet is why you told me you were a reporter.”

Her brother-in-law? That explained more clearly some of the conversation Thomas had overheard between them.

Laney strode over to the horse and began examining his old saddle. “Hmm…Good. It clears the withers. There’s free movement of the shoulders and it’s the proper shape and length for its back.” She rocked it back and forth. “There’s good weight distribution.” Her amber eyes finally focused on Thomas. “Which means a proper-fitting saddle that really doesn’t need to be replaced. So what’s your true story, Ranger Longbow?”

“In the first place, I never said I was a reporter. You gave me the role.”

Laney looked thoughtful. “I guess I did. And everything you said could have been associated with either job. So, you’re apparently trained with words. Are you as good with explanations?”

He saw no further need to keep the truth from her and was suddenly glad he could be aboveboard about his visits. “I tailed Maher into your shop, suspected you were in cahoots with him about wherever they’re going to move the fight, and ordered the saddle so I had a reason to be there whenever Maher was. As you obviously heard last night at the restaurant, I was assigned to tail you.”

Anger clouded Laney’s face. “I don’t appreciate you misleading me, Mr. Longbow. I could have taken another order yesterday, but didn’t because I assumed I could count on the income I would make from your saddle.”

Her eyes closed for a moment, and he could tell from her expression that she was willing herself not to lose her temper.

“I’ve already chosen the tree horn and started some of the drying and shaping of the bull hide for your piece.” Exasperation filled her tone, despite her effort to remain calm.

She never said she was innocent of his suspicions about her, Thomas noted, but her argument with her brother-in-law was apparently foremost in her mind. “Is this about the money for the adoption?”

If a look could cut a man down to size, hers was as sharp as an axe. She headed back inside. Thomas reached out to gently stop her. “Wait, Laney. I couldn’t help overhearing your conversation with this Dannell character, just like you couldn’t help connecting me with the Rangers. So we’re square. And don’t worry, I ordered that saddle. I mean to pay for it.” He could feel her resistance slowly ease beneath his fingertips. “Come measure my horse. He deserves something new.”

Finally, after a long moment of decision making, she moved toward the bicycle tethered at the hitching post alongside Justice. “Turn my sign around on the door so everyone will know the shop is closed for a while. We’re going to take a ride.”

Thomas turned the
OPEN
sign to
CLOSED
and mounted. He watched as she straddled the strange-looking bicycle, revealing a lacy edge of those bloomers he’d heard were the new rage for women.

He hadn’t much taken a position on them before, but if they afforded him a sight of such pretty calves and ankles, then he was all for them.

“Where are we headed?” he asked, noticing the flex and lift of her long legs as she rode. He couldn’t help but wonder how far they might wrap around his own legs, if she lay beneath him.
Get your mind where it should be,
he told himself, urging Justice into a slow trot just to see if she could keep up with him. She did.

The woman had stamina. A dozen delightful ways to test just how much, pumped hotly through his veins.

“Nowhere particular. The fit of the saddle doesn’t just depend on measurements or even the horse,” she informed him as she rode. “It’s also about you. The better you use your own body control and feel to let the animal know what you want, the easier the ride. I wanted to see your balance, the way you move with him, how you cue him.” She eyed Thomas from hat to boot. “You sit with your shoulders, hips, and heels aligned. That makes a balanced riding position. That’s why you’ve had a lot less wear on your animal and the saddle. All that makes a difference in how I’ll build your new one. About the only thing you could use to improve what you already have is a little talcum powder.”

“Talcum powder?” Thomas tried to determine just where her eyes were focused when she said that. He almost didn’t see a groundhog mound in the path, and had to steer Justice away before he crippled the poor beast.

Laney swerved for a moment, then regained her position alongside the horse. She nodded at the front of the saddle, grinning. “Your fenders. The straps attached to the saddle tree. They’re squeaking. Just sprinkle some powder on them and you won’t squeak when you ride.”

Thomas had noticed the squeak before, but it had never bothered him until now. With her eyes trained on the saddle as he rode, he became increasingly aware of how sensual the movement of riding was when someone else was looking at where he sat. Especially someone he’d wanted to kiss since the first time he laid eyes on her. “What do you say we head back in? I’ve got other business to attend to.”
Like trying to get your eyes off my squeak before I embarrass myself.

“Fine by me,” she said. “I’ve got to get back to work anyway. I’ve got lots to do between now and—” She looked like someone who had caught a particularly wily mouse. “I mean, I’m expecting an important visitor in about thirty minutes. So I best be getting back.”

“Fitzsimmons or Maher?” Thomas asked. “Dan Stuart?”

She quit pedaling and he reined to a halt.

“As a matter of fact, it’s a judge. Judge Townsend, to be exact.” The arch of one brow lifted higher. “Care to ask him whether I’m a reliable citizen?”

“Tell me what this is all about, Laney, and maybe I won’t be so mistrustful.”

“It’s about nothing. Mr. Maher ordered something from me, just like you did.” She stared Thomas squarely in the eyes. “I’m just not at liberty to say what.”

Damned but if she didn’t look taller than she was again. “I’m not talking about you and Maher. I want to know about you and your conversation with your brother-in-law. I think I got most of it, but don’t leave anything out.”

To his surprise, she told him. He figured she might tell him what he could do with his nosiness. He hadn’t missed much of the conversation last night, but the part that he had missed made him madder than hell at Dannell O’Grady and even more convinced that she had reason to be in cahoots with the boxers.

A woman wanting to get back a child whom she loved would definitely resort to any measure.

And he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was going to help her get the boy.

Trouble was, he hoped she just didn’t step over any boundary that would force him to have to arrest her before they found a way to rectify the issue and put Dannell O’Grady in his place…

Or before Thomas had a chance to kiss her.