Plain Trouble (6 page)

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Authors: Kathleen Y'Barbo

BOOK: Plain Trouble
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Something softened inside Bess. “You do love him, don’t you?”

“I do.”

“As do I.” Bess rose as tears threatened. Ida Klein held out her arms, and Bess fell into them.
 

“Well aren’t you two chummy?”

Bess stepped out of the older woman’s arms to see Tommy Klein standing in the doorway. Behind him were Pa and Joe Mueller.

Tommy grinned as his mother released Bess and headed his direction. “Am I too late to get a plateful of whatever it is that smells so good in here, Mama?”

In between bites, Tommy entertained the group with tales of life on the railroad. By the time the last piece of pie had been consumed, Bess remembered why she’d always enjoyed her neighbor’s company.

If only he hadn’t been best friends with Joe Mueller.

“Much as I hate to eat and leave, I’d love to see my own bed tonight,” Tommy finally said. “And my mother looks as if she might be tired as well.”

Mrs. Klein didn’t look that way at all to Bess, but she said nothing, and neither did Ida. While Pa walked mother and son out, Joe remained behind.
 

“I’ll help with the dishes, Bess,” he said, rolling up his sleeves.

“No need.” She turned her back and hauled an armload of dishes into the kitchen then reached for the pump to fill the sink.

A sound behind her told Bess that Joe had ignored her. One more trip to the kitchen and he’d cleared the table.
 

Maybe he’ll leave now
, she thought.

But he didn’t. Finally Bess had enough of the lawman standing behind her. She whirled around to face him, prepared to do battle.

“Go home, Joe Mueller,” she said. “There’s nothing else for you here.”

He appeared to consider her statement. A curt nod, and the ranger walked out leaving her alone with her thoughts.
 

She’d already returned to her work at the sink when she heard footsteps heading her way.
Good.
It was time to talk to her father about making peace with Ida Klein.
 

“Pa,” she called as she reached for the dishtowel to dry her hands. “I’ve got something to tell you.”

“It’s me, Bess,” Joe said. “Not your father.”

Bess threw the towel onto the counter but remained in place. Words escaped her. A good thing considering the fact she’d likely need to apologize should her thoughts be heard.

“Turn around, please,” he said then waited until she did. “There’s something I’m long overdue in saying.”

She complied and found Joe Mueller had moved closer than she expected. He reached out to touch her sleeve.
 

“Bess, I did you wrong back in school, and I never have made it right.” Joe shrugged. “If I could go back and change things I would, but all I can do now is ask you if you’ll forgive me for that awful rhyme I made up about you.” He paused to grasp her wrist. “Will you? Forgive me, that is?”

All those things Bess had planned to say to Joe someday dissolved under his even stare. “Forgive you?” she whispered. “I, that is, there’s nothing to forgive.”

His expression told her he didn’t believe a word of it. Bess looked away to study the pattern on the kitchen rug.
 

“All right, it did hurt.” She lifted her gaze to meet his. “A lot.”

“Bess,” he said softly as he released her wrist. “I was such an idiot. I would have said anything for a laugh.”

She hid her trembling hands in the pockets of her apron. “The fact it was true didn’t mean you should say it.”

“Oh Bess.” This time when he reached for her, it was to touch her shoulder. “When I look at you now I can’t believe I ever thought you were…”

Her eyes found his. “Bessie Mae, plain as day?”

“No.” Joe leaned toward her and brushed his knuckles against her cheek as he moved a strand of hair from her face. “You’ve grown into such a-”

The front door slammed shut, and Joe took a step backward. “Joe, you still here?” Pa called.

“I am, sir,” Joe responded as he scrubbed at his face with his palms. “In the kitchen with Bess.”

“Good, because I decided to go fetch that flintlock. It’s in pieces but I think…” Pa rounded the corner with something in his hands then stopped short. “Oh, I’m interrupting.”

“No,” they said in unison.

“What is that, Pa?” Bess asked as she swiped at her eyes with the dishtowel.

“You’re crying, Bess Jones.” He turned to Joe. “What did you say to upset her?”

“It’s fine,” she said, “and Joe didn’t say anything to upset me.” She glanced up at Joe. Everything’s fine, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” he said with the beginning of a smile. “It’s fine.”

“All right then,” Pa said with a healthy measure of uncertainty. “If you don’t mind, Bess, I’m going to show the ranger this flintlock I found out by the well.”

“No, go right ahead,” she said. “We were done.” Bess turned back to tackle the dinner dishes, all the while listening to the conversation between the men.
 

“And you found it in the mud?”

“Saw the barrel sticking out of the mud after the big rain the other day,” Pa said.

“It looks as if it was buried only a short time.” Joe paused. “See, the only damage seems to be to the wooden stock and mother of pearl decoration. If it had been in the mud very long, you wouldn’t have any of that.”

“What do you make of it, Ranger?”
 

“It’s mystery,” Joe said, “but lucky for you, Mr. Jones, I specialize in solving mysteries.” The men shared a laugh then Joe continued. “The gun seems familiar,” he said. “So I’ll ride into town tomorrow and send a telegram to headquarters to find out if someone’s reported it missing or stolen.” A pause. “After Tommy and I have a chat, that is.”

“Yes,” Pa said. “Been awhile since you two spoke, ain’t it?”

“Too long. I’ll have to find out why that railroad of his doesn’t take him through San Antonio.” A pause. “Or maybe it does. I’ll make a note of checking.”

“Yes, Joe, you’d need to know that so next time he’s in town you two can get together and catch up.”

Pa’s tone sounded anything but natural. In fact, their conversation had veered from the casual to downright odd.

Bess turned to peek at the item they were inspecting and recognized it immediately. “That’s Tommy’s gun. Remember, Pa. He used to come over and shoot cans off the well with Lena because his mother didn’t like him shooting at their place.”

Pa gave her a strange look. “Why didn’t I know about this?”

She shrugged. “Probably because you wouldn’t have liked it had you known Lena was shooting that old thing. I told her it looked dangerous but she’d laugh every time.”

Joe tapped his temple with his forefinger. “Maybe that’s why it seems familiar to me,” he said though Bess could tell he wasn’t completely convinced. “I’ll let you know when I hear back from headquarters.”
“Speaking of headquarters,” Bess said, “shouldn’t you be going back soon?”

Soon as the question was out, Bess knew it was the wrong thing to ask. Pa’s frown told her as easily as Joe’s surprised look.

“I’m not trying to hurry you,” she quickly amended. “Just wondered.”

The ranger seemed to study her a moment. In truth, she’d only blurted out the question because the thought of his leaving was suddenly something that didn’t appeal.
 

Not after his apology, anyway.

“I don’t have a timetable for heading back just yet.” Joe gave her a sideways look. “Well, long as we’re wondering about things, I’ve got something I’m wondering, too.”

“What’s that?” Pa asked.

The ranger turned to Bess. “I’m wondering if you’d take a buggy ride with me tomorrow, Bess.”

“’Course she will,” Pa offered as he looked past Joe to dare Bess to argue.

Chapter 7

When Joe stepped out into the chilled night air, Tommy and his mother were long gone. He took a deep breath and held it until his lungs burned then let it out slowly. The ritual helped him focus, a habit he’d learned on the trail.
 

The ranger in him had waited all evening for some sign that his friend had gone wrong. Anything – a word, a gesture, a mark on him – that might confirm what the sheriff claimed. Thus far, he’d only seen Tommy Klein, long lost friend and railroad man.

Only once had he felt ire rise against the German, and that was when he’d paid a bit too close attention to Bess Jones. The joke they’d shared was something he now could not recall, but the way she looked at him, the smile she offered.
 

That had nearly sent him across the table. Stupidity normally reserved for pimple-faced youths.

This fact alone made Joe want to avoid Bess Jones altogether. For somewhere between saving her from a rainstorm and promising her pa to keep a watch on her, he’d started thinking too much about her.
 

He barely knew the woman anymore, and yet tonight in the kitchen he’d have kissed her if Alpheus hadn’t walked in.
Kissed her.
 

Joe shook his head. A ranger never loses his focus.
 

It could mean the difference between life and death. And with Tommy back, so could it mean the difference in catching Pale Indian or letting more innocent lives be lose.

This thought carried him back to the Klein place where he paused on the porch to listen to mother and son carrying on what sounded like a spirited conversation. “I am careful,” Tommy said.
 

The cry of a barn owl broke through the night’s silence, obscuring the sounds inside. When the bird’s call ended, so had the discussion in the parlor. Joe reached for the doorknob.

“I wondered when you’d come inside,” Tommy said as Joe opened the door. Eyes as blue as spring flowers stared at him.
 

Tommy caught many a woman’s attention with this eyes. Somehow the weaker sex seemed to be taken in by this fluke of nature, though Joe had never understood it. Now Joe stared back wondering if he were looking into the face of a friend or a cold-blooded killer.

“It’s cold out here.”

“I like it,” Joe said. “Long as I’ve got a bed to sleep in, I don’t mind the weather.”

“That’s right, you’re a ranger.” Tommy stepped onto the porch and let the door close behind him. “Funny how that turned out. I always said I’d be the one who turned lawman.”

“You wanted to track down your pa’s killer.”
 

Soon as the words were out, Joe realized his mistake. The genial expression on Tommy’s face had gone south, and in its place was a steely look that masked any emotion.

“How long’s it been since you were in Bitter Springs?” Tommy finally said. “I was just trying to figure that out.”

“More’n ten years, I’d say.”
 

Joe leaned against the porch rail and stared past the small yard to the pasture and the sparse mesquites beyond. Here and there a patch of limestone rock seemed to glow brilliant white under the winter moon.
 

“Nothing much has changed. I’ll admit that. Town’s a little bigger. That’s about it.”

Tommy chuckled, or at least it sounded that way as he came to stand beside Joe. “So why now?”

Joe shot him a look. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, why come back here now?”
 

The owl hooted again, and Tommy turned in that direction, offering Joe a profile that had changed little since grade school. He was taller – well over six feet – and broader across the shoulder.

Other than that, Tommy Klein was the same kid who chased squirrels and knocked tin cans off walls with slingshots alongside Joe all those years. The same kid who’d shared his mama when Joe no longer had one of his own.
 

“A man needs a place to come back to now and then, don’t you think?”

Tommy seemed to consider the statement a moment. “I suppose he does.” He paused. “But doesn’t he also need a reason to return?”

The casual tone was gone. Joe’s Ranger training kicked in as he straightened his backbone and turned to face his friend.
 

“I’m afraid you’ve caught me.”

His eyes went wide then narrowed. “Oh?”
 

Joe stuffed his fists into his pockets and shrugged. “I’m after someone.”

Tommy froze. Then, by degrees, a smile began. “Anyone I know?” his friend finally asked.

“Could be.” Joe let his arm fall to gently rest on his sidearm. “I’m still trying to figure it out.”

It was Tommy’s turn to face him. “Oh, that’s just great, Joe. Let me figure it out for you.”

Fingers tightened on the gun though Joe kept his face neutral. Far as he could tell, Tommy wasn’t carrying a weapon, but he’d never been a man to depend on supposition.

“You always did have a crush on Bess Jones. Everyone but you could see it.” Tommy snorted with glee. “Makes sense you’d finally come back for her,” he said as he gave Joe a playful nudge.
 

“You think so?” he managed as he skirted the truth of his buddy’s statement.

“I do, but you’d best marry up with her before I decide to. She’s a real stunner, and smart to boot. Wait. That intelligence of hers might work against you.”

He released his grip on the gun and let relief wash over him as he joined in the laughter. Shooting a friend on his mother’s porch wasn’t in the plans for tonight, especially when he hadn’t proven his guilt or innocence yet.

Abruptly Tommy stepped toward the door. “It’s cold out here. Come on in and have a beer with me like old times.”

Joe shook his head. “Don’t touch the stuff anymore.”

Tommy gave him a look of disbelief before reaching for the doorknob. “You are getting old,” he said as he disappeared inside.

“With age comes wisdom,” he replied, praying it was the truth.

* * *

“Bundle up, Bess,” Pa called from the dining room. “There’s a chill in the air. And be sure to take him past that little plot where you’re going to be putting in a garden. There’s a pretty view from the bluff up there.”

“Say, Pa, I’ve got a great idea. Why don’t you go on this silly buggy ride with him?” Bess said as she gathered her wrap around her shoulders. “Since you’re taking such an interest in all this.”

“Don’t be impudent.”

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