experience in fighting the Regulators had convinced him that his calling was in raising and training horses. Moon had told him a man could serve the Great Spirit in many ways. Mostly, if he was doing what he really wanted to do. His feelings for God were better expressed in working with a fine horse, he thought, and being outside in His creation than bottled up in some building. Regardless of how beautiful the structure might be. That kind of spiritual guidance was best left to someone else.
The revolver in his fist lowered as he turned toward the inside of the house and said, “Aleta, it’s Emmett— and his boys. Come quick. Something’s wrong.”
At Rule Cordell’s side soon appeared a stunning, doe-eyed Mexican woman with long black hair. She, too, had ridden with Johnny Cat Carlson after the war—until she met Rule.
A boy and a smaller girl appeared at her side; the older boy looked like his mother, the younger girl more like her father. Their eyes lit up when they saw the Gardner boys climb from the wagon. The older boy said something to his younger sister and they ran out to meet their cousins. The dog followed.
In minutes, the Cordells had welcomed the soaking-wet riders into their house, helped the Gardner boys shed their wet slickers and guided them to stand in front of the stone fireplace. A fire warmed and brightened the main room. The Cordell children and the Gardner children began talking and laughing as if it were a summer picnic. Wagging its shaggy tail, the dog joined them, licking an occasional face or hand of the four. Strutting carefully, the yellow cat also joined the group, but chose to make himself comfortable near the fire. Andrew’s frog sprang from his hands as he tried to show his special friend.
Laughter filled the house as everyone tried to catch up with the springy animal. It was Rule who finally secured the pet and returned it to Andrew.
Everything in the house was clean and in its place. The curtains were freshly washed, still smelling lightly of soap. In the adjoining kitchen was a large table with Mexican designs carved into the heavy legs. Matching chairs stood silently around it. A tablecloth of simple blue finished the presentation.
Emmett introduced Rule to Ranger A. J. Bartlett, who greeted him warmly. Rule introduced his wife, Aleta, and son, Ian, and daughter, Rosie, then said, “And this is Texas the Second. We call him ‘Two’ for short.” He patted the dog’s head and left unsaid that the name was a tribute to the first “Texas,” a cur he found during the war. The dog’s death during a battle nearly unraveled him.
“Mr. Cordell, I am glad to make your acquaintance, sir,” Bartlett said, “and yours, Mrs. Cordell. But I must excuse myself and return to find my partner. John would’ve caught up with us…if he could. I fear…” He didn’t finish, not liking his words.
“Please call us Rule—and Aleta. What happened?”
Bartlett explained with Emmett joining in. Rule glanced at Aleta, who excused herself and left for the kitchen. Rule had heard of Lady Holt and knew Texas Ranger John Checker by reputation. He said Comanche warriors called him
After listening, Rule said quietly, “Ranger Checker wouldn’t necessarily have followed your same route, A.J. He might have ridden in the other direction. To make sure they didn’t find you. He’ll catch up later. That would be savvy.”
“Well, he’s that. In spades,” Bartlett replied; his expression was one of a man who wanted to believe what he had just heard but couldn’t quite. His thinking tended toward the negative—and to worry. Almost the opposite of his Ranger partner. But this time, his concern seemed justified.
“There you go. Please eat first, and then I’ll ride with you…if you will allow me the honor, Ranger. We’ll find your friend, I’m sure,” Rule said. “You’ll need a fresh horse, too.”
“Thank you. You’re very kind. My horse thanks you, too.”
“I cain’t be askin’ ya to do this, Rule,” Emmett said. “I’ll be ridin’ back with A.J. This hyar’s my fight—an’ now his. Leastwise to find John.”
“It’s my fight, too. I’m going with you, Ranger Bartlett.” Rikor’s eyes were bright; his frown was keeping sleep from getting any closer.
Bartlett bit his lip. “I’d like that. Up to your pa, though.”
The young man was silent, looking at his father for approval.
The statement brought a clearing of Emmett’s throat. “Yas, son, I reckon ya’d better go with us. Yu’re already actin’ a warrior.” He shook his head and looked at Rule. “Don’ know what I was a-thinkin’, Rule. I may be bringin’ hell ri’t to your door. Forgive me. After we done et, we’ll be pushin’ on.” His face wore weariness and, for the first time, a lack of confidence.
“You’ll do nothing of the kind, Uncle Emmett. You’re most welcome,” Rule said. “You are my family. No one does this to my family. No one.” He glanced at a window to see the lessening rain outside.
“Wall, thank you, son, them’s the purtiest words I ever did hear.” Emmett shook his head. “If’n you could jes’ watch the two young’uns I’d be in your debt. Keep ’em safe for a while.”
Aleta hurried back into the main room, bringing mugs of hot coffee. “Of course we can. As long as it takes. Our kids would like that a lot.” She handed a mug to Emmett, the other to Bartlett, then returned for more.
As they sipped the hot brew, the older rancher explained more about what had happened. A hot meal of tortillas, slices of beef and eggs soon followed. Aleta served the food with a wide smile, observing that it had been too long since they had seen Emmett’s sons and how they had grown. Little else was said during the meal as everyone ate heartily. Both the Gardner boys and Cordell’s children sat around the hearth to eat.
When they were finished, she invited Emmett’s two smaller sons to get some rest in their main bedroom and asked Ian to show them. They followed eagerly with Rosie, Hammer and Two trailing after them.
Returning to the table, she said, “You have ze
The tired rancher hunched his shoulders and told her about each. He was obviously proud of them and she said he should definitely be.
“Not so sure I’ll git to see them growed up, though.” Emmett bit his lower lip. “This hyar Lady Holt’s just about got everythin’ bottled up her way. Wants my land—an’ the few others left—for herself. Got the law ag’in me. Even got that chicken-livered governor in her pocket.”
Watching his children return from the bedroom, Rule took a deep breath and looked at Bartlett. “And you haven’t seen Ranger Checker since he rode off to stop those men?”
Aleta rose from her chair and directed the children outside to play, noting first that the rain had completely stopped.
“No, we ain’t. Must’ve stopped ’em for a piece anyway, I reckon. Heard gunshots an’ nobody showed up to stop us,” Emmett said, rubbing his unshaven chin. “He wanted us to keep goin’. Made that real clear. So we did.”
“One against six…” Rule didn’t finish the thought and avoided looking at Bartlett.
The Ranger’s response was to take another gulp of coffee and stand. His action was an indication of the desire to leave and look for his partner. Guilt and pessimistic thoughts about letting his friend take on Holt’s men alone gnawed at him, even though Checker had insisted.
“Better get riding,” he said, pushing away the chair. “Thank you for the fine meal, ma’am. It surely tasted good.”
Aleta smiled. “I weel geet some food together for you to take.” She paused and brought up a new idea. “
His eyebrows raised, Rule turned to the old rancher. “Makes good sense, Emmett. Keep them off stride. They wouldn’t be expecting anything like that.”
“Yah, it do.”
Rule looked at Rikor and the young man nodded agreement.
Rule looked across at the standing Bartlett. “What do you think, A.J.?”
“No offense, Rule,” the Ranger said, “but your past—as an outlaw—will be dragged into this if you do. This Holt woman’s ruthless—and she’s got the governor’s office in her fist. She’ll get Citale to revoke your clemency sure as can be. You’ll be charged with being a part of the rustling.”
That brought the room to silence.
“Maybe. Maybe not,” Rule said, “but I like the idea anyway. We’ll ride to Clark Springs first. I’ve got a friend
