Lone Star Ranger : A Ranger to Ride With (9781310568404) (6 page)

“How about if I agreed to make you my, what
was it?” Nate asked.

“Your conservator? That might speed things
up a bit. And if you are worried I may loot the account you need
not fear about that. I’m a hard businessman, but a fair one. Your
affairs will be safe in my hands. Ask anyone in town if you
like.”

“All right. You’re in charge of my money,
Mr. Funston.”

“Excellent. You won’t be sorry, Nate.”

“But
you
will be if a nickel of the
boy’s money disappears, Funston,” Jeb warned. “The Rangers will
make sure of that. And it still doesn’t solve our problem. Nate
needs cash now, not later.”

Funston pulled a gold pocket watch out of
his vest and glanced at it.

“Judge Stanton should be at the courthouse
right now. If we hurry over there, we should catch him before he
heads out to dinner. We can have the necessary papers drawn up and
signed. Then I can arrange a withdrawal for you, Nate. Will that
do?”

“I guess so.”

“Are you certain, Nate?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I am, Jeb.”

“All right. Mr. Funston, let’s go.”

***

Realizing Nate was in a difficult situation,
it didn’t take long for Judge Stanton to prepare the necessary
paperwork, have it signed, witnessed, and filed. Shortly after that
was done, Nate left the bank with enough money to purchase a new
outfit, as well as a stage ticket to Waco, from where he would make
train connections home to Delaware. The stage would not be leaving
for three days, so he and Jeb would be staying in San Saba until
then.

“I have to stop by the marshal’s office and
let him know there’s a Ranger in town. We generally let the local
law know when we’re around. After that I reckon our next stop
should be the general store to get you some decent clothes, Nate,”
Jeb said. “It’s just down the street. We’ll stop there, then grab
some chuck. After that we’ll head for the barber shop for haircuts
and baths for both of us, and a shave for me. Been a long time
since I’ve had the chance to scrub the trail dust out of my hide.
And we’re both lookin’ pretty shaggy. Once all that’s done, we’ll
put up Dudley at the livery and figure out a place to stay.” Like
most cowboys, Jeb hated to walk, so would use his horse to complete
their errands, then stable him. “Does that sound all right to
you?”

“I guess so,” Nate answered.

“Nate, I know this is a lot for you right
now, but you’re handlin’ everything pretty well. Just remember if
you need to talk you go right ahead. I’ll be listenin’.”

“Thanks, Jeb. I’ll be okay, I guess.”

“You will be. You’re a tougher kid than you
realize, Nate. It’ll take time, but you’ll do all right. I’d bet my
hat on it. Let’s get to the store. I don’t know about you, but I’m
gettin’ hungry.”

“So am I.”

“Good. We’ll buy those clothes, then
eat.”

***

Jeb helped Nate pick out two pairs of
denims, two shirts, a pair of sturdy boots, a red silk neckerchief,
two sets of underwear, two pairs of socks, and a black Stetson.
Once the purchases were completed, paid for, and wrapped, they
headed for a nearby café for dinner of beefsteaks, boiled potatoes,
and black eyed peas, with apple pie for dessert. After that, they
crossed the street to the barber shop. A bell attached to the door
jingled merrily when they opened it.

“C’mon in, gents,” the barber greeted them.
He glanced at the badge on Jeb’s vest. “Ranger, huh? Reckon you’re
here for a shave and a haircut, from the looks of you.”

“For me and the boy both. Baths also. I’m
Jeb, and this here’s Nate. I know it’ll be tough workin’ around the
bandage on his head, so just trim him up as best you can.”

“Sure, of course. I’m Bret Mason. What
happened to you son? If you don’t mind my askin’.”

Nate swallowed hard before replying.

“Outlaws attacked our ranch. They killed my
ma and pa and brother. I got shot and left for dead.”

“Some of us Rangers have been trailin’ that
bunch for quite a while now. Came up on Nate’s place a little too
late to help his folks,” Jeb added. “Rest of my patrol’s still
after ’em. With any luck they’ve caught ’em by now. I came with
Nate to help him get his affairs in order. He’s got no kin left in
Texas, so he’s goin’ back home to Delaware to live with his aunt
and uncle.”

“I’m sure sorry to hear that, son,” Mason
said. “My prayers will be with you. Won’t be much, but mebbe a trim
and hot bath will make you feel a little better. Ranger, who’s
goin’ first, you or the boy?”

“Take care of Nate first. It won’t take as
long to trim his hair as it will for my shearin’ and shave.”

“All right. I’ve already got some water
heated. Let me get a couple more kettles started, then I’ll start
in on your hair, Nate.”

Mason disappeared into the back room, then
returned a few minutes later.

“Hop in the chair, Nate. By the time I’m
done, your bath will be ready.”

Mason worked carefully on the boy so as not
to cause him any further pain from the bullet wound. He looked at
Nate critically once he was done.

“Not too bad, considerin’,” he said. He held
up a mirror for Nate to look in. “What do you think, Nate?”

“No, it’s not. In fact, it’s just fine.”

“Good. Now follow me and I’ll finish gettin’
your bath ready.”

Mason removed the cloth protecting Nate’s
clothes and brushed off his neck and shoulders. He led Nate into
the back room, where he poured more hot water into a large zinc
tub.

“Soap, washcloth, and towels are on the
chair next to the tub,” he said. “More towels on the shelf if you
need ’em. Just be careful you don't get those bandages wet. You
don't want water soakin' through to the stitches. You can hang your
clothes on those pegs. Those new duds in that package?”

“Yeah. I needed to replace the ones I lost
when our ranch was burned.”

“Just leave those on the shelf until you’re
ready to get dressed. Take as long as you like.”

“All right. And thanks, Mr. Mason.”

“No need to thank me, son. It’s the least I
can do.”

Once the barber left, Nate stripped out of
his dirty clothes and stepped into the tub. He settled as deeply as
possible into the steaming hot water, letting it soak aches from
his body and grime from his skin. As he lay there, a feeling of
deep sadness came over him. After a while, he realized it was more
than just the loss of his parents and brother. He now understood
what was troubling him. Despite his previous dislike for Texas, he
now knew it was home. He had no desire to return to Delaware. And
he wanted to be there when the men who had killed his parents and
brother were brought to justice. With a sigh, he settled even more
deeply into the tub. As Lieutenant Berkeley and Jeb had said, there
was no future for him in the Lone Star State. Like it or not, he
would need to go back to Wilmington.

***

“Boy howdy, you look good in those new
clothes, Nate,” Jeb said as they headed for the livery stable after
their baths and haircuts. “That hat’ll fit you better once those
bandages come off. Just too bad we couldn’t find any Eastern-type
clothes for you. You’re lookin’ like a real cowpuncher.”

“That’s all right, Jeb. My friends back in
Delaware all thought I was gonna be a cowboy. This way when I get
home, I’ll at least look like one.”

“That’s the spirit. Nate, Ranger pay ain’t
all that much, so we can’t often afford a hotel room. I can usually
talk the hostler at the stable to let me sleep in the loft for a
couple extra bits a night. Besides, I like to stay close to my
horse. You mind doin’ that? If not, you could use some of your
money to get yourself a room for the next couple of nights.”

“No, sleepin’ in the loft will be okay,”
Nate said. “It’ll probably be a lot more comfortable than crowdin’
into a bed with two of three of my cousins once I get back
home.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do. After Dudley’s
in a stall and fed, it’ll be time to think about our supper. You
about ready to chow down again?”

“Now that you mention it, yeah. But I’m also
real tired.”

“You’ve been through a lot. We’ll get
supper, then turn in early.”

***

With nothing to do until the stage arrived
in two days, Nate and Jeb had little to do the next day. Most of
the time they spent sitting on barrels in front of the stable,
watching people as they walked by. Nate grew more quiet as the day
went on.

“Nate, you feelin’ all right?” Jeb asked.
“Your head ain’t botherin’ you, is it?”

“No, not at all,” Nate said.

“How about your belly? You seem to be eatin’
all right, but is that kick from Dudley gettin’ worse?”

“No, it’s fine, except for the funny purple
color it turned where Dudley got me.”

“I’m sure sorry about that, but I’ll bet
you’ll never grab a horse’s tail again.”

“You can be certain I won’t. Dudley taught
me a good lesson. No, I’m okay. Just feelin’ kind of down.”

“Well, that’s understandable, with all
you’ve been through. Losin’ a family like you did would throw a man
twice your age. You’ll start to feel better once you’re with
kinfolks. Things’ll never be the same, but the hurt will lessen
with time. Meantime, you ready for supper?”

“I guess so.”

***

Nate merely picked at his meal that night.
When he and Jeb bedded down in the stable’s hay loft, he lay
staring at the roof for quite some time.

“Jeb, you awake?” he finally whispered.

“Yeah. I’m still awake,” Jeb answered.
“Why?”

“I’ve gotta tell you something. I don’t want
to go back to Delaware. I want to stay here, in Texas.”

***

Jeb and Nate spent the entire next day
trying to figure out how the boy could remain in Texas. By the end
of the day, they still came up empty. A feeling of hopelessness
settled over Nate. It looked like he would be getting on the stage
the next afternoon.

“Tell you what, Nate,” Jeb said, about eight
that night. “Sometimes I can think better over a beer or two. Let’s
go to the Dusty Trail Saloon. I’ll buy you a couple of
sarsaparillas, we can get some ham and eggs, and mebbe we’ll come
up with somethin’.”

“All right. Maybe you can buy me a beer,
too.”

“Mebbe I
can’t
,” Jeb retorted.
“You’re way too young for red-eye. Don’t get any ideas from the
ladies in there, either. There’ll be time enough for those in a
couple of years.”

“It was worth a try,” Nate said, with a
grin.

“There. That’s better. You’re smilin’,” Jeb
said. “Let’s go.”

It was only two blocks to the Dusty Trail,
so rather than saddle Dudley, Jeb decided to walk. When they
entered the saloon, it was mostly empty. A few men stood at the
bar, several were playing games of chance, and one or two were
talking with the percentage girls. A short, stocky, lantern-jawed
cowboy, with brown hair tending to gray under his hat, was sitting
at one of the tables, working on a bottle of whiskey. He nodded at
the Ranger as Jeb walked by. Jeb nodded in return, then he and Nate
bellied up to the bar.

“Evenin’, Ranger,” the bartender said. “I’m
Joe Hardy, the owner of this fine establishment. What’s your
pleasure?”

“Beer for me, sarsaparilla for the boy,” Jeb
ordered.

“Comin’ right up.” A moment later, a mug of
beer and bottle of pop were placed on the bar in front of them.

“Just call when you’re ready for another,”
Hardy said.

“Will do,” Jeb answered.

Jeb only gave the saloon a quick glance.
He’d been in dozens of others just like this one, all over Texas.
There was the mirror-backed bar, the paintings of cattle drives and
scantily clad women on the walls, the games of chance; poker, faro,
chuck-a-luck and roulette, and the out of tune piano. Tobacco smoke
swirled around the coal-oil chandeliers. The entire place smelled
of tobacco smoke, spilled whiskey, and sweat.

However, Nate had never even peeked into a
saloon, let alone been inside one. He kept glancing around, looking
from one end to the other, taking in the entire room. Try as he
might, he could not avert his gaze from the percentage girls in
their low-cut dresses.

“Try to keep your eyes in your head, boy,”
Jeb ordered, with a laugh. Nate blushed bright red.

Jeb was working on his second beer and Nate
on his third sarsaparilla when five men entered the saloon. Jeb
glanced at their image in the back-bar mirror and stiffened. He
turned to face the newcomers.

“Nate, get over in the corner,” he
ordered.

“Why? What’s wrong, Jeb?”

“Just listen to me. Get over in the corner,
now!”

Nate edged away from the bar.

“Trouble, Ranger?” the stocky cowboy
asked.

“Nothin’ I can’t handle,” Jeb answered.

“I’m not so sure about that. I think I might
have to take a hand in this game,” the cowboy replied.

“Appreciate the offer, but this is Ranger
business. And five to one odds are just about right.”

The newcomers were now halfway across the
room.

“Hold it right there, Stevenson,” Jeb
ordered. “Rest of your boys, too. Keep your hands away from your
guns, less’n you want to eat some lead.”

The leader of the group stopped short.

“Well, well, if it ain’t Ranger Jeb
Rollins,” he said, with a sneer. “Of all the rotten luck.”

“I’d call it
good
luck, Stevenson,”
Jeb said. “The Rangers have been lookin’ for you and your bunch for
quite a spell. Your cattle rustlin’ and horse-thievin’ days are
over. You’re under arrest, all of you. Just shuck those gunbelts
and raise your hands, nice and easy-like.”

“You really are a barrel of laughs, you know
that, Ranger? Here we are, five of us and one of you, and you
really believe you’re gonna take us all in. I don’t think so. We’ll
be keepin’ our guns.”

“Make that
two
of us, mister,” the
stocky cowboy said. He came to his feet, his hand hovering over the
butt of the six-gun on his right hip. His face was set in hard
lines, his dark eyes grim and determined.