Texas Angel, 2-in-1 (59 page)
“N-nothing!”h But Micah knew in his heart he was totally the cause of her distress. Yet he was helpless to do a thing about it.
“He was a perfect gentleman,” she said through her tears.
How could she defend him? He’d stolen from her, held her hostage, and put her through emotional distress.
“I’m taking you out now, miss,” Tom said. “Your pa would kill me if he knew I’d let you in here. And now look at you!” He nudged her toward the door. Pausing only for a backward glance at Micah, he added threateningly, “I’ll be back to talk to you later.”
T
OM DID NOT RETURN FOR
two hours, during which time Micah fretted as if worse could happen to him than already was going to happen tomorrow.
That girl should never have come to his cell. It had been pure foolishness! And Micah would chew Tom out good for allowing it to happen. What had the man been thinking, letting a decent girl into a depraved man’s jail cell to see a condemned criminal? Even Micah would have known that a girl’s delicate sensibilities could have been upset by such a thing.
Then he thought about those tears, erupting from obsidian, coursing down pure ivory, and all for him. It should have disturbed him to have a gal like that pity him so, yet as he mulled over the visit in his mind, Micah began to sense that there had not been anything like pity in her response. Maybe it was just wishful thinking on his part, but it might be true that her sorrow sprang from something else entirely.
What that might be, he dared not think about. It was no use anyway. He was going to die tomorrow.
But if there was a way to avoid the inevitable, well, he might just take it. He could stand being a ranger if it meant pleasing a gal like Miss Maccallum. If it meant he could dispel those tears and the distress in those lovely eyes.
“Hey, Micah!” Jed called.
With a jolt Micah remembered why he would never see those eyes smile again.
“What!” Micah snapped. But it really wasn’t Jed’s fault. Micah had gotten Jed into this mess, and he was going to stick by him till the end. That was that. A bit more gently he added, “Haven’t heard much from you today, Jed. What’s going on?”
“You sure have had a slug of visitors. I saw a pretty female in the hall.”
“Yeah. Of all things, Jed, it was the gal from the trail drive.”
“The one whose horses we stole?”
“The same. She was crying because of me.”
“You don’t say!” Jed gave a low whistle. “She sure was pretty.”
Micah shrugged, then swung his legs off his cot and stood. Striding to the door, he added, “When do you suppose supper is gonna come? I’m starved.” He didn’t want to talk about Miss Maccallum. He didn’t want to be reminded about all he was losing.
The outer door opened, and Tom stepped into the corridor. Micah took it as a good sign that the man seemed to have calmed since his earlier visit.
“Hey, Tom, when’s supper?”
“Yeah,” Jed put in. “I’m gonna get ham and fried chicken, right?”
“I got more important things to discuss than your stomachs.” Tom came to Micah’s cell, opened it, and stepped inside.
Micah immediately noted the door was kept unlocked and slightly ajar. But no doubt the outer office was filled with rangers armed to the teeth. Micah knew escape was impossible, but he could not prevent himself from thinking about it.
Snapping the door shut behind him, Tom ordered, “You! Sit down and listen to me!”
He took a step toward Micah, who retreated until he was at the edge of the cot and forced to sit anyway.
“Tom, you’re not still mad at me, are you?” Micah hated having to look up at the ranger, again feeling like a naughty kid.
“That girl was still crying when she left here,” Tom went on in a tone so even it was frightening.
“I swear I didn’t do nothing to her!”
“Shut up and listen to me! You’re gonna take my proposition.” When Micah opened his mouth to protest, Tom added firmly, “No ifs, ands, or buts about it! I ain’t gonna watch that girl’s heart break over a low-down, no-account, sidewinder like you. You’re gonna become a ranger. No arguments.”
“I can’t do it,” Micah said, his own conviction floundering as he thought of the miserable girl and his own demise. “You know why . . . and I just can’t.”
“Aw, shoot!” Tom practically shouted. “You’re both gonna have to become rangers, then.”
“Both?” Micah was certain he had not heard right. “You mean Jed, too?”
“Yeah, him too. I’ll live to regret this, I’m sure. You’ll both likely drive me to an early grave—”
But Micah had jumped to his feet and, nearly knocking Tom over, was at the door. “Jed, you hear that? We ain’t gonna hang!”
“What?” Jed said, several steps behind everyone else as usual.
“I’m telling you we ain’t gonna die. Tom’s made us a deal. All we have to do is become rangers.”
“Huh?”
Remembering the door was unlocked, Micah flung it open and strode down the corridor to Jed’s cell. “I’m telling you, do you want to be a ranger?”
“A ranger?”
“It won’t be much different from what we’ve been doing ’cept we’ll get paid for it, and”—he added this last part quickly as Tom approached—“of course we can’t steal no more.”
“And we don’t have to hang tomorrow?” Jed asked, still bemused.
“Nope,” Tom answered. “But don’t think you’re gonna get off easy. I’m gonna make you work your tails off. You’re both gonna be the best durned rangers in this here republic, or I’ll want to know the reason why. I ain’t risking my own neck just to have a couple of poor malcontents hanging around my neck. Got it?”
“You don’t have to worry about us,” Micah said. “We won’t let you down.” And oddly enough, he meant it. He suddenly glanced at Tom and felt a peculiar tightening in his chest. He wanted to tell him thanks but couldn’t get the words out.
“Does this mean I don’t get no pecan pie?” Jed asked.
Fife rolled his eyes. “Saints preserve me! What have I gone and done!”
“Angry? That does not begin to describe what I’m feeling right now.”
“But, Papa, I had to do what I felt was right.” Lucie hated to have her father upset at her. She looked at him now, his face more florid than usual, and searched in her mind for something to say that would ease him. “Papa, you taught me yourself to follow my heart—”
“I did not teach you to consort with criminals, nor to defy me!” Reid gasped a breath and sat down at the table in the kitchen.
It had been a silent ride in the back of the carriage as one of the hands drove them home from San Antonio. Lucie knew her father was fuming and feared anything she might say would set off fireworks. She was still upset as well, her eyes red and puffy, and she continued to be on the verge of tears. Deciding it was best to let matters cool a bit, she had gone to the kitchen to fix some tea. She’d offered her father a cup, but declining, he had retreated to his office.
That had been two hours ago. Finally her father had come from his study, finding Lucie still in the kitchen moping over her now cold tea. She had asked him if he was still angry and learned that, though he had calmed, he indeed continued to be irritated.
“Would you like some tea? The kettle is warm.” She started to rise, but he laid a restraining hand on hers.
“Forget the tea, Lucie. We need to talk this out.”
“Yes, Papa, I know.”
“Tell me, whatever got into your head to go into that jail?”
She sighed. “It was the right thing to do—at least speaking in the man’s defense was. As far as going to see him . . . I don’t know. Maybe it was not wise.” She bit her lip as sudden emotion threatened her again. “Oh, Papa! He is a nice boy, I just know it! And I didn’t help him after all. Tomorrow . . . tomorrow . . .” A hiccough escaped her lips.
“Now, now, Lucie, baby . . . you mustn’t fret so.”
As if she had intended it, her tears were softening her father. She found the effect of a woman’s tears on a man to be astounding, and though she dared not use such power brazenly, it was rather comforting to know she did have some small recourse as a woman. However, it hadn’t helped in the case of Micah Sinclair. Her tears had not softened the heart of that ranger captain. They would not save the young horse thief.
“Papa, it just isn’t right that a man with so much life to live, so much promise, should have it all end in such a way. He is not a hardened criminal, I am certain. Surely something awful must have happened to him that set him on the wrong path. He was very kind to me. And I felt I had to let him know someone cared.” She sniffed and her father handed her his handkerchief. She wiped her eyes and blew her nose. “Can you imagine having to die all alone? And, Papa, he turned down a chance to avoid his sentence. They were going to let him become a ranger—”
“I know. That is the most outlandish thing I ever heard. And I told the captain so,” Reid said.
“One of the rangers cared enough to take him in hand . . .”
“There you go! He did have someone else who cared for him.” A satisfied looked spread across Reid’s face.
“Well, it doesn’t matter anyway,” Lucie said with just a hint of disrespectful ire. “Micah refused the offer because he would not let his friend hang alone.”
“Sounds like pure foolishness to me.”
“Oh, Papa, you can’t fool me. You know as well as I that it was an act of grand courage and honor.”
Reid looked down at the table, fumbling nervously with the handle of the teapot. Finally he looked up at his daughter, a smile teasing the corners of his lips. “Well, maybe it was at that.”
“I think you would like him, Papa. I think you would like him a lot.” For a brief moment Lucie nearly forgot her father would never meet the young man, thinking instead she might actually see that handsomely boyish face again. Then reality struck her, and a sob broke through her lips. “Papa, even prayer did not help him.”
“You don’t know that, sweetheart.” He grasped her hand in his. “We can never know what God intends.”
“It seems so hopeless!”
“Well, I kind of think it’s in hopeless situations where God shines most. Now, don’t fret, all right? You leave the lad in God’s hands, eh?”
She nodded tearfully.
Then Reid rose. “Maybe I would like some of that tea. You just stay put. I’ll get it.”
She watched her father lumber to the stove and lift the kettle from the iron surface. It had been a trying day for him as well. The two-hour drive to and from San Antonio alone was taxing. In addition to that he’d had his own business to attend to. Maybe it had been selfish for Lucie to insist upon going and being allowed to speak to the ranger captain, and then to slip away and visit the jail while her father was at the bank. Maybe she should have thought before putting her father through such an unnecessary ordeal. Maybe she should have put his well.being before that of a stranger.
Yet she knew a large portion of her father’s surly response was only out of concern for her. She knew he would be the first one to insist upon justice and fairness and mercy. Had she not been involved, Lucie felt certain Reid Maccallum would have been the first man to stand up for Micah Sinclair.
Juana came in just then. “Señor Maccallum, let me get that.” She reached for the teakettle as he brought it to the table.
“I’ve got it, Juana,” Reid said. “Sit and join us.”
“When there is work to be done? You know me better than that, señor.” She chuckled, adroitly taking possession of the kettle as she did so.
Shrugging his surrender, Reid resumed his seat and let Juana continue the task. She filled the teapot with the hot water, took the kettle back to the stove, and returned with a dish of biscuits and a pot of butter.
“So how was your trip to San Antonio?” she asked.
“Tiring,” Reid said.
“Frustrating,” Lucie added.
“I want you both to stay home for a good long time now. No more trips to San Antonio or anywhere.” She lifted the teapot and refilled the cups.
Lucie shrugged, in no mood to argue. In truth, she felt little desire to leave home at the moment. And she had no desire to go to town for a good while, because she did not want to hear stories of what had already occurred or what would occur on the morrow.
Lucie and her father were sipping their tea in silence while Juana was mixing bread dough when a knock came at the kitchen door. Juana let in Pete.
“I just got back from town,” he said. “Thought you might want to hear the news.”
“Come on in and sit down,” Reid said.
“Thanks, but I only got a minute. I need to see to my horse—I came right here.” He glanced at Lucie. “Looks like you’re gonna get your wish, miss.”
Lucie could not tell from his expression if this was a good thing or bad. At least Pete did not seem to be bubbling with happiness.
“My wish?” Lucie asked.
“That kid in jail that you was so worried about? Looks like he isn’t gonna hang after all.”
“Pete! Really?”
Now Pete let escape a hint of his personal view in the matter. A slight grimace twisted his broad tanned face. “He got a reprieve for being so young and for being a hero of San Jacinto. Same with the other kid. I reckon now everyone who was even close to San Jacinto will take this as leave to rob this here country dry.”
But Lucie heard little of the foreman’s diatribe. Micah Sinclair was going to live! Maybe, just maybe, her words had done him some good after all! She wanted to jump up and dance around the room. She wanted to kiss her father and maybe even that old leathery foreman.
Suddenly she thought of something else. Maybe she would see Micah again. When she glanced up from her joyous musings, she noticed both men were staring at her. Only then was she aware of the wide grin on her face.
T
RY THIS FOR SIZE.
” Tom held out the pistol.
Micah turned the weapon over in his hand. He’d heard of these but had never seen one, much less held one in his hand. A Paterson Colt single-action revolving handgun. A five-shot .40 caliber affair.
“Five shots, no reloading,” Micah murmured. “Hard to believe.”
