Texas Brides Collection (8 page)

Lord, I don’t want this to be hard on Serena. She looked powerfully unhappy riding away with her ma. Her sweet face seems to be branded on my mind and heart. What choice do I have but to turn it all over to You and let You work on my heart and her pa’s? So I’m trusting You with my love for Serena and whatever is best for her
.

He felt better. A sense of peace settled upon him like a cool breeze on a hot day. No need to fret over the matter because God had already handled it. Chet would simply do his job, think about Serena when night folded in around him, and wait for the good Lord’s answer.

For a moment, he wondered if God had any idea how intolerable James Talbot could be when upset.

Days later, after a bloody battle with a gang of Comanches, Mexicans, and white raiders, scattering some
bandidos
by the wayside and others racing deep into Mexico, the cap’n approached him.

“You’re a good ranger, Chet, and I’ve always been able to depend on you.”

Surprised, since James hadn’t spoken more than two words to him in three weeks, Chet stuck out his hand. As the two men grasped calloused hands, he stared into the cap’n’s eyes and saw respect, nothing more.

“I hate this difference between us,” Chet said. “Wish we could talk it out.”

The cap’n expelled a heavy breath and released the handshake, as though contemplating Chet’s words. “Someday you might have a wife and family. Until then you won’t understand what I have to do to protect mine. There’s no changing my mind. You know my Serena is a frail thing. She couldn’t handle this life.”

Chet said nothing. God had already spoken to him about the cap’n’s daughter. In his heart, he knew God had a plan for him and Serena. He felt certain they would end up together.

Serena pulled a brush through her dark tresses, as always, her mind on Chet. Today marked her eighteenth birthday, and he’d promised to be there, but Pa had come in late last night alone. She’d been foolish to think Pa would allow Chet to visit.

Her pa had refused to talk about Chet before he left the last time, and their good-bye had been strained. She remembered her and Ma’s words.

“Why does Pa have to be so muleheaded?” she’d asked, digging her fingers into her palms as she and Ma watched Pa ride just beyond earshot.

“You’d be the best one to answer that,” Ma said, smiling and waving although she could no longer see him. “Since you’re both just alike in many respects. You, James, and Chet…stubborn and lovable.”

The reply stung and brought a well of tears to her eyes. She turned away and headed back inside the cabin. The truth always hurt more than she cared to admit.

She even confessed to Moira about the whole thing with Chet. Her dear friend listened and held Serena while she cried. Neither of them could think of a solution but to seek God for the answers.

They didn’t hear from Pa for nearly four weeks, and when he’d ridden in last night, Serena felt uncomfortable. Oh, she hugged him and welcomed him home, but uneasiness rested between them.

She wanted to tell him about the palomino and how the horse responded so well to her commands, but the words wouldn’t come.

She wanted to tell him how she’d worried he might have been hurt, but her heart ached to hear about Chet.

She wanted to cry on his big strong shoulders and tell him how miserable she felt since their parting, but she wanted Chet’s arms around her, too.

Serena knew she needed to talk to Pa and had prayed about it more than once, but the words refused to come. As the beginnings of light filtered through her tiny window on this, her birthday, Serena felt miserable. She wanted her relationship back with Pa and Chet. Had God forgotten her?

Rising and dressing in her favorite sky-blue dress, she attempted to concentrate on the Niall family coming later on in the afternoon. Yesterday she and Ma had cooked most of the day for the birthday dinner. It would be a wonderful celebration, and Serena vowed to cover her broken heart with a smile. No one would see how she truly felt about Chet Wilkinson, and she knew he dare not be there today. Pa had probably threatened to shoot him on sight.

As was her custom when Pa first arrived home, Serena went about making breakfast while her parents slept. But her determination did not stop a few tears trickling into the coffeepot.

All too soon she heard the murmuring of voices from the other room. Determined and inhaling deeply, she pasted on a smile.

“Mornin’, Little One,” Pa said, standing barefoot in the kitchen.

He sounded cheerful and it nearly broke her heart with the differences between them. “Mornin’, Pa. I’ve got coffee brewing outside.”

“Sounds good. Happy birthday.”

“Thank you, Pa.” She smiled into his eyes, the same color as hers. “I’ll fetch you some.” She snatched up a mug and started for the door.

“I’ll get it,” he said, his eyes searching hers. “I’d like to take a look at your horse.”

“She’s a fine mare.” Serena felt like her words were memorized from some book. She hurt all over.

“Would you go with me to take a look?”

She fought the urge to cry and tried to suppress every semblance of her emotions. “Sure, Pa, but breakfast is almost ready, and I don’t want it to burn.”

“We won’t be gone but a minute.”

They stepped through the door and saw Chet sitting atop his horse, leaning on the saddle horn.

“Cap’n, I told Serena I’d be here for her birthday.”

H
ave you no more brains than a stunned mule, Wilkinson?” Pa asked, his fists clenched as he stepped toward Chet. “We settled this weeks ago. You’re not to see Serena, not now or ever.”

Chet’s gaze didn’t waver. He straightened and pushed back his weather-beaten hat. “I told her I’d be here, and I aim to keep my word.” He paused. “Although I discovered another matter over the past few days that should interest you.”

Pa’s eyes narrowed. “What might it be before I run you off?”

“You’ve been followed, and it might be a bit serious.”

Pa leaned against the door, disbelief pouring from him like a swollen water hole.

“Do you want to take a look at the tracks or blow a hole through me?”

Serena held her breath. Chet spoke calm, quiet-like, causing her to shiver. He had yet to glance her way, but then again, she didn’t expect him to.

Pa licked his lips. “You’d best not be lyin’ about this.”

“I don’t have a reason to.”

“All right, show me. Serena, get my rifle and boots.”

She felt riveted to the wooden step beneath her feet, but a second look from Pa spurred her after his things. A moment later she emerged from the cabin to see Chet had dismounted and tied his horse to the hitching post. Still, he avoided her.

“Let’s see those tracks and hear you out before you get going,” Pa said, reaching for the firearm and his boots. He glanced back at her and scratched his stubbly cheek. “You wait inside.”

“Pa…”

“Tend to breakfast, Little One. This ain’t easy for me either.” His gaze softened before he turned and ambled toward Chet.

Resigning herself to obey, she allowed one glimpse of Chet’s face. She met his smile and saw the love she’d dreamed about every night since she could remember. Her spirit soared, and without a word, she whirled and walked inside.

Ma stood in the cabin, still dressed in her nightgown, sleep etched on her face. “Chet’s here?” she asked, combing her fingers through tousled brown hair.

“Yes, ma’am. He and Pa are talking outside. Not all of it about me. Chet said someone trailed Pa here last night and—”

A rifle shot split the air. Serena’s gaze flew to her ma’s. Color drained from her face, and Serena felt her heart seemingly leap from her chest. They scrambled through the door. Fear for Pa and Chet ran deeper than anything awaiting them.

Not forty feet from the cabin, Pa lay on the ground, one hand clutching his side and the other wrapped around his rifle. Blood oozed through his fingers, forming a crimson pool beside him.

“James, no!” Ma’s screams pierced the air.

Serena lost any thoughts of danger, and despite her ma’s and both men’s protests, hurried to his aid with her ma close behind. She and Serena bent behind his head and each grabbed under an arm to pull him from the blood-caked earth toward the cabin.

With one hand on his rifle, Chet peered in the direction of the barn and helped drag Pa on to safety. Another shot clipped Pa’s leg.

“We got you, Talbot,” a man’s voice called in a heavy Mexican accent, “right where we want you.”

Raucous laughter rang from the barn, enough to tell Serena more than one man lay in wait. Terror ripped through her body. For a moment it paralyzed her thoughts, except for a need to help get her pa inside. She caught his dulled gaze before he closed his eyes with the pain obviously wrenching through his body.

Chet snatched up a pistol then his gun belt and powder horn from his saddle. He fired again just before another shot zinged over his head. Stepping inside the cabin after Serena and her ma, he slammed the door shut.

Ma gathered up clean rags and pressed them against Pa’s side. “It’s gone clean through,” she said, her features rigid and her hands trembling. “Good, I guess…no bullet to remove.”

Serena lifted her pa’s rifle from his arms and laid it on the table. “His leg’s not bad, Ma. I’ll wrap it.”

“Cursed
bandidos,”
Pa managed, biting his lower lip. “We should have chased them into Mexico and ended it.”

“They’ll wish they’d stayed there by the time I’m finished with them,” Chet said, staring out the window. “I counted three of them, Cap’n.”

Ma used her apron to wipe the sweat trickling down Pa’s face. She took a clean piece of muslin from Serena and dabbed at the blood running down his leg. “Who are they?” Ma asked.

“What’s left of a murdering bunch we chased across the Rio,” Chet replied, searching the area between them and the barn.

“We got two bloodthirsty Texans,” the unseen man called out, his boasting echoing around them. “You both come out and the women go free.”

“Do they think we’re stupid?” Serena asked, picking up Pa’s rifle and toying with it in her hands.
God, help us. I’m scared, real scared
. Bloodstains on the wooden floor tore at her senses.

“Give me my rifle,” her pa said, his words raspy and labored. He lifted his arm, but his strength failed him.

“No,” she replied, feeling a strange mixture of anger and courage. “You aren’t in any shape to help Chet. Besides, I’m a ranger’s daughter, and I know how to use this.” She turned her attention to Chet and hoisted the rifle into her arms. “Pa knows I’ve beat him a time or two at target practice.”

“Sere—” But Pa couldn’t finish. He’d passed out.

“All right,” Chet began, still keeping watch through the window. “We can handle this. Mrs. Wilkinson, I need you to keep the guns loaded for Serena and me. Looks like three apiece.” He glanced about him. “Do you know how to measure the powder and load them?”

“Yes,” Ma managed, not once taking her sights from Pa’s face. “I…I can keep them loaded.”

“Serena, take the window in the other room.” He motioned to Ma and Pa’s bedroom. She grabbed a pistol. The two guns were heavy, but at least she knew how to use them.