Texas Lucky (28 page)

According to Caleb, Curt’s foreman, the Lucky 13, as the ranch was called, had weathered the winter fairly well. Also, Curt had hired a Mexican woman as his housekeeper, and the hands were quite pleased over the good food she was serving up.

“So he’s got a woman living there?” Tess had snickered. “After the lecture he tried to give me about you? I find that quite amusing.”

Buck had pointed out, “She’s probably old enough to be his granny, Tess. Don’t worry about it.”

At that, she had flared, “Now, what makes you think I’m worried? I don’t care what he does.”

Buck had hidden a smile and said nothing more.

Tess had let it pass and changed the subject, for talking about Curt never ceased to get her riled. Bad enough that memories of the tender times they had shared continued to steal into her dreams when she wanted only to forget they had ever met.

Light was fading, the day coming to a close. She was disappointed Buck had not returned, but could not blame him. After all, it was his first trip since November, as best as she could recall. He would want to join others coming in off the range to gamble and drink and just plain raise hell to let off some steam.

He had asked her when he left if she minded him going, and she had told him absolutely not, that one of them needed to see if there were mail. She’d had one letter from Perry since she wrote him about finally getting her ranch and promising to send for him in the spring. He had said he hoped it worked out, for he could not endure living with Aunt Elmina much longer.

He had gone on to describe beatings and being sent to bed without food. The thought of his misery had kept her going so many times in the frigid weather as she fought to save her cattle…save her ranch…for him.

She heard another noise, and this time there was no mistaking the sound of a horse approaching.

She leaped from the chair and ran to the door, excited to see it was Buck.

Sacks hung from his saddle, filled, no doubt, with the items she needed so badly—coffee, sugar, flour, and beans. He paused to drop them off and muttered he would take them in for her when he got unsaddled.

Tess stared after him as he continued on to the barn. Something was not right. He should have been in high spirits but instead seemed depressed.

She told herself she was imagining things. He was just tired from the ride. Probably also heavy-headed from too much to drink and several nights of rowdy carryings-on.

Dragging one of the sacks inside, Tess busied herself making supper. He had brought a nice side of bacon and she was sure that cooking some of it with a big pot of honey beans would make him feel better.

He was longer than usual coming in, and when he finally appeared, Tess saw at once she had not been imagining things. His eyes were downcast, shoulders slumped, face long and drawn.

“You look tired. Maybe a good, hot meal will make you feel better,” she suggested.

“I’m not real hungry.” He took off his hat and hung it on a peg next to the door.

He sat down at the table, and she filled his plate with beans, anyway, then took the chair opposite and watched as he barely picked at the food.

“Was there any mail for me?” she asked hopefully.

“Yeah. I left it in my saddlebag in the barn. I’ll get it later.”

She felt a disappointed rush. After waiting months, it seemed cruel to have to wait any longer, but she did not say anything. Something was definitely wrong with Buck, and she did not want to make matters worse.

She tried to cheer him. “And did you hear from Katie? Is she excited to be getting married this summer? You know,” she chattered on, “I was thinking the other day how that crest on the south fifty would make a fine spot to build a little cabin for you two, and—”

He slammed his fork down on the table. “Tess, how many hands can you afford to hire to help with round-up?”

She was stunned at the sudden change of subject. “What do you mean?”

“When that grass out yonder”—he gestured to the outdoors—“turns green, probably in April, you’ve got to round up what cattle you’ve got left and get ’em to market, and you’re going to need more help than me if you want to drive your own cattle instead of selling to drovers. Have you got money left to do it?”

“I will once the cattle are sold.”

He sighed, exasperated. “But how are you going to get them to market if you don’t have the money to hire help?”

She was confused. They had talked about it many times during the long winter. She would go to a bank in Dallas and explain how the weather had taken its toll on her cattle and she needed a loan to get the remaining steers to market. The calves and cows would be cut out during roundup to keep the herd going. Things were going slower than she had hoped, but she was still optimistic.

“Well, have you?” he persisted.

“You know I plan to borrow the money.”

“On what? Have you counted the steers you’ve got left, Tess?”

“Why, no, I—”

“I figure there’s five hundred or so. That means you lost near about fifteen hundred. Now, what bank is going to be stupid enough to loan you money to get five hundred head of cattle to market? It’s not worth it. What you need to do is sell what’s left to drovers and then give up.”

“Give up?” She was aghast. The thought had never occurred to her, and for Buck, who knew how determined she was, to say such a thing was like hearing it from a stranger. “You know I’ll never do that,” she said hotly. “We can get them there—you and me. And if I can’t pay you while we’re on the trail, well, I’ll make it up to you when I sell the steers, and—”

“You could sell them to Curt Hammond. He’d be willing to buy. He said so.”

She leaped to her feet, knocking over her cup of coffee but not caring as she furiously cried, “You’ve been talking to him about me? About my problems? How could you do such a thing, Buck?”

His face softened with the reality that perhaps he had gone too far. “Well, I was only trying to help. Every time I see him—at Gilley’s or sometimes on the range—he asks how you’re doing. I saw him in Dallas. Fact is, we had supper together. He was talking about his good luck this winter, and I remarked how he made me feel bad ’cause you’ve had such a time of it. The next thing I knew, it just all came spilling out.”

Tess sank back in her chair and covered her face with her hands as she swung her head from side to side. “I don’t believe I am hearing this, Buck. You actually told him.”

“He said he’d help any way he could.”

She uncovered her eyes. “I don’t want his help,” she said firmly. “And I want you to promise me you will never discuss anything to do with this ranch with him again.”

“Well…” he pushed his plate away, got up, and went to stand at the fire, back turned to her.

She had to strain to hear his next words.

“You’re gonna need somebody’s help, Tess, ’cause I’m leaving.”

She would have rushed to him but did not trust her suddenly quaking knees to support her. “You can’t mean that.”

He dug in his pocket and brought out a crumpled envelope and tossed it on the table before saying, “You know I can’t read too good, so I had to get somebody to read this to me.”

Tess saw from the address it was from Katie, and, taking out the letter, she smoothed it with trembling fingers and began to read.

With each word, her hands began to shake even more until she finally dropped the letter on the table, unable to continue.

She had read enough, anyway, to know what was wrong with Buck and why he wanted to leave.
 

Katie had written that she had decided she did not want to leave her family, after all. She still loved Buck and wanted to marry him, but he would have to prove he loved her, she said, by returning to Sante Fe and going to work for her father.

“Are you really going to do it?” Tess asked tremulously.

He whipped about to face her. “Hell, yes. And if you’re smart, you’ll give this place up, Tess.”

“After one bad winter? I can’t stop you if you want to leave, but don’t attempt to ease your conscience by trying to make me quit.”

“You’re just stubborn.”

“If that were true, I wouldn’t even be here. I would not have become a rancher in the first place.”

“I never understood why you did.”

“Because…” She drew a ragged breath. “It’s beautiful. With all the work and hard times and bad weather, it’s still beautiful, and I love it.”

She began to walk about the room, speaking more to herself than him.

“I love to ride this land and know it’s mine. I love to smell the sage and listen to the mockingbirds. I’ve learned the names of the trees and the shrubs and the flowers. There are wild turkeys eating out of my hand, and I’ve got a horse that seems almost human sometimes, because he understands everything I say. It’s my world, and I’m not leaving it.

“You, however…” She turned on him, but not in anger, for they had shared too much. “You have my blessings to go in peace, Buck. I know you love Katie, and I wish you every happiness.”

“Oh, Lordy, honey…” He stumbled over to wrap his arms around her in a bear hug that left her breathless. “Don’t you know I don’t want to leave you? But I’ve loved Katie for so damned long, and I know she means it. If I don’t go back, she’ll never marry me.”

Tess tried for a smile. “You don’t owe me an explanation, Buck. I’m just grateful you stuck by me as long as you did.”

He held her hands as he searched her face for answers. “But what will you do? You don’t have any money left. We had to spend so much on feed, ’cause you didn’t have time to grow your own hay and corn. And it’s like I said, the bank won’t lend you money on a measly five hundred head of cattle. Maybe Curt Hammond will work out a deal for a percent of your profit if he drives your herd to market with his. It’s something to think about.”

“It’s nothing to think about,” she snapped, drawing her hands from his and going to the table to clean up the mess from the coffee. “I’ll never ask him for help, and you, of all people, should understand why. You know as well as I do he’s been praying I’d go under, because he wants my land.

“Well, it won’t happen,” she said with an angry swipe at the spill. “I’ll try to get those steers to market by myself before I ask for his help.

“Maybe,” she went on, calming a bit as she thought about it, “I can ask George Petersen to give me a hand. You know he owns the Circle G south of here. I could even go on the drive, too, to help out. And maybe Perry will be here by then. I made sure to save enough money for his ticket. Next time I go into town, I’ll send it to him, too. It’s time he came on out here, anyway.”

“I sure hope it works out for you, Tess. I sure do. Now I’ll go get your letter. Maybe it’ll make you feel better to read what he’s got to say.”

He left and returned a short while later. Tess was eagerly waiting to snatch the envelope from his hand and tear it open.

But once more, as she read, a chill spread from head to toe.

Buck saw how she went pale and wanted to know what was wrong.

Voice trembling, she read the heart-wrenching lines from her aunt.

Tess,

Thanks to you and your letters Perry has run away. No doubt he’s on his way to Texas to find you. I don’t care what happens to him or you, but if he makes it there you tell him if I ever see him again he’s going to jail for stealing money from me.

Elmina

Tess looked at the date on the letter and wailed, “She wrote this last November. That was nearly six months ago. He should have been here by now.”

“Not necessarily,” Buck said. “He would have had to get from Pennsylvania to Chicago before taking a train, and that would have taken some doing that time of year.”

He drew her back to the table and they both sat down as he continued to endeavor to allay her fears. “It’s probably just now about time he was getting here.”

“But where would he go?” she fretted. “All he had was the address of the post office in Dallas.”

“That’s enough. If he went there asking about you, surely somebody would tell him how to get here. Everybody there knows where your ranch is, Tess. Now stop worrying, because all you can do is wait till you hear from him.”

“I can’t. Not till I make sure those people there know exactly what to tell him. And what if he doesn’t have any money? I remember I was almost broke when I got to Devil’s Eye, so I’m going to leave money for him to pay somebody to bring him here.

“That’s what I’m going to do,” she rushed on excitedly. “In fact, I’m riding into Dallas tomorrow. You can come with…” she trailed off when she saw how he was looking at her with guilt, and she felt foreboding creep into her once again. “What is it, Buck?”

He looked everywhere but at her. “I was planning on leaving tomorrow, Tess.”

Feebly, sickly, she echoed, “Tomorrow? But—”

“Katie sent her letter last fall, too. She hasn’t heard from me and is liable to think I’m not coming, so I best get started in the morning.”

“Yes, I suppose you should,” she said quietly. “I’ll pack some food for you.”

“You aren’t mad?” he dared ask. “That I’m not sticking around till after roundup? I mean, if I’m going, I might as well, and you can find somebody else, and—”