The Texan's Christmas (11 page)

“Hi,” she responded.

“They’re having a teacher workday at John’s school so my grandson brought him to spend the day with me and my wife. He’s been upset since someone stole his four-wheeler and the saddle I was going to give him.”

“It was mine,” John said. “Why did they have to take it?”

She bent down to his level. “Sometimes it just happens, but the authorities are doing everything they can to get your items back.”

“They are?” His eyes opened wide. “Are they going to get Grandpa’s cows back, too?”

Oh, goodness, what had she gotten herself into? But
John looked so sad she couldn’t resist giving him some hope. “We’ll have to wait and see. It’s going to take some time to catch the thieves.”

“Good.” He bobbed his head. “I hope they put them in jail for a long time.” He held out his little hand. “Nice to meet you, Miss Lucinda.”

She shook it with a smile. “Nice to meet you, too.”

As the boy ran to the truck, Mr. Hopper said, “I’ve been telling him that for days, but he never seemed to hear me. Thank you, Luc—I believe everyone calls you Lucky, right?”

“Yes.”

“Then that’s what I’ll call you, too. Thank you, Lucky.”

They shook hands and the moment was surreal but it gave her an insight into her own motivation for continuing in a job her father hated. She could help people and it made her feel good about herself, her life. It kept her going on days when she felt as though she couldn’t spend one more minute in that bar.

“I hope I didn’t lift his spirits for nothing,” she had to say.

“You gave him faith, Lucky, and we all need that from time to time.”

“Yes.” She needed it every day—a faith and a belief that she could make a difference.

She waved as they drove away and stood staring down the long expanse of blacktop. Kid used to give her that faith in herself, but she didn’t need him for that anymore. She could make it on her own.

As the September sun bore down on her she realized her feelings for Kid were changing. She didn’t analyze that beyond the fact it wasn’t a bad thing.

W
HEN SHE GOT TO THE BAR
, she had a talk with Bubba Joe.

“Don’t worry, Lucky, she’s gone to Aunt Mable’s.”

Like her father, she didn’t quite believe that. “I’m not one to give advice, but if you want a life you’re going to have to tell your mother what you will and will not tolerate.”

“She’s my momma and worries about me.”

She sighed in frustration. “Bubba, when we were in first grade, your mother brought you a hot lunch every day and practically spoon-fed you. That was maybe understandable when you were six but at fourteen and sixteen that was a little over-the-top, especially since she sat and ate lunch with you. I don’t want to sound cruel, but that’s why kids laughed at you. Sometime before you reach forty you need to say the word
stop
to your mother and mean it.”

His big chest heaved. Oh, no. Was he going to cry?

“Bubba…” She felt bad.

“You’re right, Lucky, I have to do something.”

She exhaled. “Yes. If you’re serious about Thelma Lou…”

The woman in question came through the door. “Did I hear my name?”

“We were talking about Momma,” Bubba replied.

“Don’t mention her.” Thelma threw her purse into the
back room. Where Bubba was tall and round, Thelma was short and plump. Her brown hair was always in a ponytail, and as Lucky’s father had pointed out, she had a sharp tongue.

“Okay,” she said to them. “I’m not getting involved in y’all’s business, but Thelma, if you’re serious about Bubba, get a divorce and keep the relationship out in the open because I’m not having Wilma coming in here, sitting at the end of the bar, stone drunk with murder in her eye.”

“If I could find that sorry bastard of a husband, I would,” Thelma snapped.

Lucky walked off and started to fill bowls with pretzels. Why had she said anything? It was none of her business.

Luther and Frank were the first ones to come in. “Hey, Lucky.” Luther slid onto a bar stool. “Party not started yet?”

“What do you want, Luther?”

His eyes slid over her in a way that left no doubt as to what he was thinking. For once she didn’t let it slide. She was tired of taking crap from sleazy men.

“I keep a gun below the bar and if you don’t back off, I’m going to put a hole right in the center of your forehead.”

His ruddy skin paled.

“He’s just joshing, Lucky,” Frank spoke up.

“I’m not, and if you don’t treat me with the respect I deserve, then you can get your ass out of here permanently.”

Both men just stared at her.

“Now, once again, what would you like?”

“Coors Light.”

“Bottle or can?”

“Can.”

She placed the order and ticket in front of them.

Luther popped the top. “You’re getting hard like Bud.”

“I’m not taking any more crap, and you only get one warning.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Luther raised his can. “Frank and I will be gone for a couple of days. You’re gonna miss us.”

“Don’t count on it.”

As she walked away she marveled at the difference her standing up for herself had made. Luther backpedaled immediately and his tone of voice changed, too. It wasn’t degrading. She’d even detected a little of that respect she was demanding.

It was a Wednesday night so the place wasn’t too lively. She stilled when the cowboys came in. They were excited, laughing and joking.

“Hey, Lucky,” Clyde called, “how about a beer?”

She grabbed some bottles and moved to the bar in front of them.

“We’re sorry if we scared you that night we were drunk.”

“It’s okay. Just don’t do it again.”

“We’re headed back to Cameron,” Melvin said. “Not much work around here.”

They were leaving. This was big. That meant if they were involved in the rustling, they were likely going to move the cattle to get rid of them.

“Good luck, boys.” She tried to appear as calm as possible. “If you’re in this area again, the bar is always open.”

She hurried to the back room to text Travis. No response. Where was he? He usually responded immediately. Then she remembered. He had a meeting with another ranger and two market inspectors in Georgetown, but he always checked his phone. She waited, but she knew she didn’t have much time. If they were going to find out anything, the cowboys had to be followed.

When no message came through, she went to the bar and sneaked her gun to the storeroom. She motioned for Bubba Joe.

“What’s up?”

“I have to leave. Please close up for me.”

“Sure.”

Being Bubba, he didn’t ask any questions.

Stuffing her gun into the back of her waistband, she hurried out of the bar through the side door, holding her phone in her hand. She scanned the parking lot and saw the black Dodge nosed up next to her pickup.

She waited a second, willing the phone to beep. It didn’t. What did she do? She called Walker and got a message. He was in Giddings and wouldn’t be back until later. If it was an emergency, the voice mail said to call 9-1-1. Damn! She’d try the sheriff but she knew he was in the meeting with Travis and she didn’t know who
to trust at the sheriff’s department. What should she do now? If she did nothing, the cowboys would leave and everything they’d possibly stolen would be moved out of the county and sold, including little John’s saddle. And they’d get away with the biggest robbery in this area.

Her options were a little murky, but she knew one thing—she had to do something. Her stomach felt queasy at the thoughts in her head. She had her phone. She had a gun. She could do this. Without another thought she walked to her truck and dropped down, making her way to the Dodge. Part of the vehicle was in the dark, away from the spotlight. Grabbing one of the sides, she swung into the bed and crouched low against the cab, hoping with everything in her that she wasn’t detected.

K
ID PLAYED A GAME ON HIS PHONE
to keep from being bored, all the while keeping an eye on The Beer Joint. He’d gotten here early because he was tired of his family giving him odd stares. He knew they thought he was staying in High Cotton out of guilt, but they were wrong. He was searching for something inside him that would make him feel good about himself—something of substance. There had to be more to him than Kid the kidder. Or Kid the ladies’ man.

Shoving his phone into its case, he saw a movement on the left side of the building.
Lucky.
Was she going home early? To his astonishment she swung into the back of the Dodge.

What the hell?

He jumped out of his truck, leaped across a ditch and sprinted to the vehicle and dived inside the bed. He heard a muffled scream.

“It’s Kid.”

“What the hell are you doing here?” she snapped.

“What the hell are
you
doing?”

“This doesn’t concern you. Get out.” Her voice grew angrier by the second.

The bed of the truck smelled like diesel and cow crap—not pleasant. He shifted closer to her.

“Get out,” she repeated.

He didn’t heed the warning. “I’ve been thinking and I keep telling myself it can’t be true. But you’re an undercover source for Travis what’s-his-name, aren’t you? This is the dangerous stuff you’re into.”

He could feel her breathing rapidly. “All right, you’ve figured it out. Now get lost.”

“You’re not facing these guys alone.”

“I just need to know where they’re going. That’s all and then I’ll get out.”

But it was too late. The cowboys were coming to their truck. The gravel crunched beneath their boots as they drew closer. Kid pulled her flat against the bottom of the bed.

“Too bad we can’t take Lucky with us.” That was Melvin.

Lucky stiffened.

“The boss said to leave her alone so that’s what we’re doing.” Clyde chuckled. “Doesn’t mean we can’t come back later and have some fun.” The doors slammed shut and the motor roared to life.

“Check the time on your watch,” she whispered.

He glanced at the lighted dial. “Yeah, it’s always good to know the time when you’re going to die.”

The truck backed out and moved onto the highway.

“We’re turning left,” she whispered.

“That’s my guess.”

The lights from the bar faded away and the truck
bumped over uneven ground as it traveled through the night. The rough road jostled them against each other.

“Stop touching my breasts,” Lucky said under her breath.

“I’m trying to hold on.”

“Hold on to something else.”

The truck stopped and they burrowed further against the bottom of the bed.

“Check the time,” she said again.

“Nine-minute thirty-second drive, if that’s what you wanted to know.”

“Shh.”

“Don’t know why I have to open the damn gate,” Melvin grumbled as he got out.

The vehicle pulled through and stopped again. Suddenly they heard Melvin peeing and Kid hoped he wasn’t close to the truck, but it sure sounded like it. Don’t look. Don’t look, he chanted in his head.

He breathed a sigh of relief against Lucky’s cheek and she felt damn good beneath him—not exactly an appropriate thought at the moment. Their lives were in danger.

The truck bounced on rougher terrain.

“Where are they going?” Lucky whispered, almost as if she’d accepted him being there.

“Not downtown High Cotton, for sure.”

Bushes and trees scraped against the truck and it finally stopped. The cowboys got out. Doors slammed. “Let’s get to work,” Clyde ordered. “It’s all scheduled. The boss wants this done tonight.”

They heard movement and then silence. “Stay down,” he told Lucky, and peeped around the cab. An old mobile home sat among the bushes, which he could see because a small light was burning outside. Otherwise there was nothing but woods. Where were they? And where had the cowboys gone?

“What do you see?” Lucky asked.

“Dense woods and a rundown mobile home. Let’s get out before they return.” He jumped to the ground, as did she. Grabbing her hand, they ran into the woods and sat in the thicket. Darkness surrounded them.

“I have to contact Travis,” she said, “but I’m afraid they’ll see the light.”

“Hold it close to your chest. The woods are so thick I don’t think they’ll notice. I just wish I knew where they were.”

She leaned against a tree and pulled out her phone. He scooted closer to help shield the light.

“I got a text from Travis. He’s on his way and he says for me to wait for him.”

“You’ve blown that one,” he remarked.

“Don’t start.” She looked around. “I have to text him back.”

“From the tone of your voice I’m guessing chasing criminals is not part of your job description.”

She fiddled with her phone. “No. I just gather information.”

“Then let’s get the hell out of here.”

“No. The stealing has been going on for months and
it’s time the thieves were caught. Chance’s cows were stolen. Don’t you want to know who did it?”

“Those two-bit cowboys who just walked into the woods.”

“We don’t know that for sure. We have to follow them.”

“Oh, God. I had a few gray hairs before I came back to High Cotton, but now I can feel them sprouting by the minute and every one has
Lucky
written on it.”

“Poor Kid.”

“Do you know how dangerous this is?”

“I have my gun.”

“I know. I felt it poking in places it shouldn’t have.”

He heard a snicker.

“Are you laughing?”

“No.”

“Yeah, right.” He reached for his cell. “I’ll text Chance. Travis should hear about this in person, and the sheriff and Walker need to be notified. Let’s try to figure out where we are.”

“We turned left which is east and drove nine minutes and thirty seconds. This has to be near the old Wilkins’ property, heavily wooded and the son never tends to it. He tried to sell it, but no one wanted to spend the money to clear the land.”

“So you think the Wilkins guy is involved?” he asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Be on the lookout while I try to text.” He wasn’t quite sure how to word the message. So he poked in
letters fast: L and I r following 3 cowboys involvd in catt rust. Think old Wilkins place. Contact T. Will txt later.

He got back one word: What?

Do it. He punched in the letters and turned off his phone.

“Make sure your cell is off,” he said.

“Already done it.” She got to her feet. “Let’s see if we can find them.”

Kid stood and stopped. “Listen.” The bellow of cattle broke through the silence of the night.

“Cows. They’re agitated so they must be moving them. Let’s go.”

They walked to the trail the truck was parked on and followed it. Since they could barely see, they stayed close together. The track gave way to a clearing and Kid pulled Lucky into the bushes. Squatting, they surveyed the scene in front of them. A barbed wire fenced pen held about thirty head of cattle. He saw Chance’s black ones right away and Judd’s white Brahmas stuck out like old lady Grisley’s wig.

“There are all the cows they’ve stolen,” Lucky whispered.

“Yep. Just wondering what they’re going to do with them.”

“I don’t see a cattle trailer but it could be hidden in the dark.”

The beams from the cowboys’ flashlights were the only way they could see anything. Earl walked toward a tin shed on the left and opened the door. Lucky gasped
and quickly covered her mouth against his shoulder. He kind of lost his train of thought when she did that.

“Just look at all that stuff.” Her voice was barely a thread of sound. “There’s Mr. Hopper’s beautiful saddle.”

Inside the shack were four-wheelers, two Polaris Rangers that he could see from the flashlight, saddles, tack and other items they’d stolen from ranches across the area. A putt-putt sound grabbed their attention and a green tractor with headlights and a flatbed trailer attached slowly moved from around the shed and then backed up to it. Melvin jumped from the seat and the cowboys began to load the items. Motor sounds mingled with the bellows. The cows grew more agitated as they jostled against each other looking for a way out.

Once the loot was loaded, Melvin backed the trailer next to the pen of cows.

“I don’t understand what they’re doing,” Lucky murmured.

“Me neither. How do they plan to move that stuff?”

As soon as the words left his mouth, the sound of a train echoed through the night. Clyde was talking on something that looked like a walkie-talkie. He waved his flashlight as the train came into view, and slowed until it came to a complete stop. Two cattle carriers were in front of Clyde.

“Son of a bitch! They’re carrying everything out of here by train. This is a professional criminal operation.”

“Yeah.”

In a stupor they watched. Melvin pushed opened the big door of the car. Clyde and Earl adjusted ramps, which were laying on the ground, to the opening and threw up cow panels for the sides. Clyde opened the barbed wire gate and with whips and yelling they herded half the cattle up the ramp into the car. A couple of cows fell and as soon as the whip stung their hide they staggered inside. Melvin shoved the door closed.

Clyde was on the walkie-talkie, flashing a light. The train inched forward and they started the process over again. When the cattle were safely in the carrier, the train moved and the loot was loaded into a boxcar. Earl drove the tractor back to the shed and ran to join Clyde and Melvin as they jumped aboard. The train revved up and slowly began to roll.

Lucky jumped to her feet. “I’m going with the train.”

“What!” Before he knew her intentions she was running toward it. He was a step behind her. “Lucky,” he screamed, uncaring if anyone heard him. His breath came in gasps as he tried to stop her. To his horror, she reached a boxcar and swung inside. Without having to think about it, he dived right after her, but misjudged his strength and slid across the floor of the car and almost went out the other side. Half of his body was hanging out. The train picked up speed and all he could see was Texas rail flashing before his eyes. His heart jackknifed into his throat.

This was not the way he wanted to die.

Lucky.

I
T TOOK A MOMENT FOR
Lucky to catch her breath and then she almost fainted when Kid flew past her and hung out of the car. Oh, my God! She grabbed his boots and pulled. He did a half turn with his body and flipped back inside, knocking her down.

“Lucky?”

She took a couple of deep breaths. “I’m okay.” She rose to a sitting position and scooted against the wall of the car. He joined her, both of them breathing heavily.

After a moment, Kid asked, “What is this stuff scattered in the car?”

“From what I can see it looks like a busted bale of cotton. I guess someone was too lazy to dispose of it.”

“Mmm. Comfy.” He jammed a wad behind his back. “You know, Lucky, there are a lot of other fun ways to get the adrenaline going instead of risking your life.”

“You didn’t have to follow me.” But she was glad he did. She was scared out of her mind. Yet, here she was hopping a train chasing criminals.

She could feel him looking at her in the dark. “My brothers ask me this all the time. Now I’m asking you.” He paused. “Are you insane?”

Leaning back her head, she replied, “Probably, but if someone doesn’t follow them they’ll get away with stealing all that stuff. Little John Hopper wants his great-grandfather’s saddle and I’m getting it back for him.”

“Lucky, this is dangerous. The saddle is a material thing. It can be replaced.”

“Some things can’t be replaced,” she said as old
memories surfaced. “When I was eight, rustlers wiped out my dad’s small herd right before Christmas. He always sold calves to buy gifts for me. Grandma told me I wouldn’t be getting the pink bike I wanted. She said Santa ran out of them. But Christmas morning there was my pink bicycle. I was happy.” The clap-clap of the rails seemed to intensify. “My mother left me her beautiful sapphire ring my father had bought for her when they were dating. It was small but I loved it and would stare at it in her jewelry box and play with it. It was mine and Dad said I could wear it when I was older. Soon after Christmas I noticed it was gone. I heard my grandma and Dad talking. He’d sold it to buy me the bicycle and other gifts. That’s when I knew there wasn’t a Santa Claus and mean people took things that didn’t belong to them.”

“Lucky.” He scooted closer to her, his thigh touching hers, and her stomach fluttered in stupid excitement. More excitement than she needed tonight.

She took a breath. “I don’t plan to confront the criminals. I just want an idea of where they’re taking this stuff and then I’ll get off and let the authorities handle it.”

“Okay. I’m with you all the way.”

For a while there was silence as they watched the night fly by. The hum of the rolling wheels against the rail was the only sound.

She was curious about something. “How did you just happen to be outside The Joint tonight?”

“I’m there every night.”

“What?” She tried to see his face in the dark.

“I get there about closing to make sure those cowboys don’t hurt you and I follow you to see you get home safely.”

“That’s stalking.” She was trying to dredge up some anger, but it wasn’t working. She couldn’t help but feel touched that he was concerned about her.

“Really? I kind of looked at it as worried out of my freakin’ mind about what you’re into, and I was right. We’re on a damn train headed into God-knows-what.”

That obliterated every retort in her head, but one. “You can get off at any time.”

“Not likely.” She felt him move restlessly. “And since I’m fessing up. I visit the baby’s grave, too.”

That threw her. “When?”

“Usually right before I go to The Joint to make sure you’re okay. I just sit there for a while praying for his forgiveness.”

They both needed to get a grip or the past was going to cripple them. “You can visit the baby’s grave any time you want.”