Give Me A Texan

she nudged her offspring away from the rest of the herd. Seemed his popularity with females had spread.

Riding herd involved hard work, long hours, and short pay but Payton loved the freedom of the range.

A man had plenty of fresh air out on the panhandle. Endless prairie land rose up to kiss the sky like a jealous lover, creating a breathtaking landscape.

Life seemed pure here-unblemished, uncrowded, and unappreciated by some. City folks didn’t know what they missed. He poured a cup of coffee from the pot on the fire and joined the others who took a break.

“Hey, Payton, ever think about doing anything else?” Amos cut a plug of tobacco with his pocketknife and stuck the brown chaw in his mouth.

“Nope.” He came into this world a cowboy and that’s how he’d die.

Amos leaned back on his heels. “Sometimes I wonder what walking in a banker’s shoes would be like.”

Bert laughed. “Stiff and squeaky. Ever hear them walk?”

“Si,” Felipe joined in. “I don’t want no banker’s shoes.”

“Me either.” Amos wiped his mouth. “Squeaky shoes are for stuffed shirts. The damn things would drive a man batty. Reminds me of the time-”

“Oh hush!” Bert tossed a handful of gravel. “Everything reminds you of some time or another.”

“Many days I wish for a pretty senorita though.”

Payton eyed the half-breed. “And what would you do with her, Felipe, my friend?”

“Love her.”

That word again-love. Among a batch of confirmed loners the declaration was like an elephant that everyone saw but pretended it trampled harmlessly an ocean away. Because to admit such existed meant they’d have to think about what their lives didn’t have in it. Like the rest, he didn’t cotton much to changing his ways.

“From what I’ve seen, loving a woman takes a heap of work and patience.” Payton took another swig of water and corked the canteen. The sinful curve of Amanda’s lush mouth crept into his thoughts. Upon the heels of the warm recollection, kissing and cuddling crossed his mind. Damn! She’d probably sic her dog on him if he tried. But, to have her in his arms might be worth getting chewed to bits by a mangy, sheep- smelling animal.

“Shoot, with my luck the woman would turn out like Lucinda and have a God-almighty pitching arm,” Amos replied. “No thanks, I’m satisfied with loving and leaving ’em. Saves on blood and bruises.”

“You couldn’t find one to have you anyway, you old coot.”

“Bert, I’m tempted to make you eat those words.”

“You and what army?”

Through the drone of their banter, Payton tried to quell panic that generally visited only after the sun went down and the day ended. He wasn’t getting any younger. His bones creaked and ached, compliments of breaking horses and wrestling mean steers. One day he’d wake up all alone with only the ornery longhorns for company. No one wanted a broken down has-been. In a couple of years he’d be forty. His time had passed.

“Hey, Payton, you never did say what happened when you toted the bag to Amanda Lemmons.” A twinkle lit Bert’s eyes.

Payton should’ve known he hadn’t heard the last of that. They’d given him hell last evening until he finally marched out to Wild Horse Lake and counted the bullfrogs until he ran out of numbers. When he’d gotten back they were all snoring pretty as you please, which suited him just fine.

Amos’s bushy beard twitched. “You don’t leak when you drink so I don’t reckon she shot you. A case of bad aim? Or did by some miracle a brave soul pour ice water on her to put out the flames before you got there?”

“Nothing happened. Not one thing.”

Other than he found his hat that had been smashed and filled with boiled carrots.

And he’d learned the value of a woman’s pain.

“I bet you boys anything she invited ol’ Payton in for tea and crumpets,” Bert said. “Or maybe she handcuffed and fed you mutton stew.”

A growl rumbled in Payton’s throat. “That’s enough.”

“You can tell. We won’t breathe a word,” Amos promised.

“No one here but the cows and they don’t gossip,” Bert teased.

They’d badger Payton to death until he told them something. He had to nip this thing in the bud before someone got hurt. He sighed, tossing out the grounds in the bottom of his cup.

“I returned her property. She thanked me and I left. Now let it drop. If I hear anyone say a word out of line about the woman you’ll answer to me. She has a right to her own business whatever that may be. You’ll respect her or you’ll wish you had.”

“I swear the man’s got it bad.”

“Amos, I warned you. Shut up before you’re sorry.”

Felipe slapped his thigh. “I think he like her. Maybe she kiss him.”

“For the last time, let it be.” Through a narrowed squint Payton noticed a rider kicking up a dust cloud. He made out Joe Long as he drew closer.

Damn, the friend still acted downright strange!

Reminded him of the time Joe stuffed some mutton under the cantle of his saddle. Took him a week to find the source of the stench and the damn thing still stank to high heaven on a warm day. Just like he’d done back then, Joe went around sniffing, wearing a quirky grin.

Payton had better get things squared away with Lucy and pretty pronto.

Chapter 9

Payton didn’t have long to wait for Joe’s next move. The sun squatted on the horizon by the time the hands called it a day and rode back to the ranch. They’d had a particularly hard day that left Payton’s butt dragging in the dirt. All he wanted was a hot meal and his bunk. He’d also have settled for a bath, but that wouldn’t happen until Saturday.

His spurs jangled as he stepped inside the bunkhouse. Thoughts of his material welfare froze in his brain. Someone had tied a ball of white fluff to the foot of his bed. When it saw him, the cotton ball opened its mouth and bleated.

“Who the hell put that blasted thing in here?” he thundered, looking around for the culprit. He’d wring Joe’s neck. But the foreman had vanished.

Bert laughed so hard he rolled on the floor. The black scowl Payton shot him could’ve singed the hide off a greased pig. The look certainly seemed to get the laughing hyena’s attention. Bert stood, covering his mouth to hide the grin. “Looks like you have a new bed partner, McCord.”

Felipe untied the creature and cradled it in his arms. “I like him. My father was a sheepherder many years ago.”

“Is this the start of your new herd…uh, I mean flock, Payton?” Amos roared until he had to sit down and catch his breath. Tears ran down the old man’s rough bristles. He didn’t pay the murderous glare Payton leveled on him a speck of notice.

“What you gonna do?” Felipe patted the soft head.

“Before or after I kill Joe? I’ll have to take the damn thing back I suppose. No, don’t look at me with those sad, brown eyes. We’re not keeping it. It doesn’t belong here. We’re respectable cowmen.”

The door opened and Joe stuck his head inside. “Aw, dad-burn it! I missed the fun. Was he surprised?”

With a growl, Payton lunged and tackled his friend before Joe could block the attack. “I oughta rub your nose in the smelly ball of yarn. Surprised? Yeah, I’m overjoyed.”

Joe grinned in the headlock. “I thought you would be.”

“Leave things alone or you’ll see what other surprises I have in store for you.”

In a heartbeat, Joe sobered. “You can’t make my life any more worthless. On her worst day, Lucinda is my one and only. Losing her took my reason for waking up in the mornings.”

The gray, forlorn misery crawled inside Payton. He released Joe and motioned him outside for more privacy. “You haven’t lost her. Don’t ever think that. Lucy hasn’t given up squatter’s rights on your house, which tells me