Thirty

“Uncle Pete, what on earth?” Hope exclaimed.

Glory’s insides bumped over the raised ridges of too much worry. “Has something happened to Aunt Dorothy?”

“You ain’t gonna believe this. You just ain’t.”

There seemed to be no letup. She cringed. “What? Tell us.”

Standing as near as she was, Jessie’s quick intake of air seemed to suck the life from Glory.

“Luke? Have you word of Duel or Luke?” Jessie asked.

“Who the heck is Duel?”

“I’m sorry, Uncle Pete.” Glory had trouble remembering her own name these days. “This is Jessie McClain. Her husband, Duel, is Luke’s brother. They arrived this morning bringing sad news of their father’s death. After hearing about Luke’s fix, Duel rode to help.”

“I’m right proud to know you, Mrs. McClain. I shouldn’t have barged in here like this. What in blazes kind of trouble is Luke in?”

“It’s a long story, but he found the outlaw gang that’s got Santa Anna in an uproar.”

“You don’t say?”

“What brought you out this way, Uncle Pete?” Hope prodded.

“Well, you girls know how I been digging for treasure?”

“You found the gold?” Hope gripped Glory’s arm.

“Nope, something better…water.”

“You found water?” That would make him rich. Glory was happy folks wouldn’t scorn him anymore.

“Yep, when I wasn’t even looking for it. And guess where?” A second’s silence passed. “On Day land. You’ll have your own water well.”

“Praise be,” said Ruth from the doorway. “At last something good for a change to break the string of bad.”

Glory pried Hope’s fingers loose and tried to bite back the disappointment. In the grand scheme of things, she had to look at finding water in a positive light, but for the life of her she wished for something of a more personal nature.

Starting with the rakish, teasing baritone of a certain heart-stealer. What she would give to hear it!

* * *

The forty-five filled Luke’s hand while the sound of blood gushing through his veins created a roar in his ears. Nothing except the dogged purpose in his soul spurred him forward.

He brushed aside a curtain of desert willow, taking note of an agarita shrub’s broken limb. He leaned to examine it. When he rose, he came face-to-face with the unexpected muzzle of gray steel. The cold metal pressed into his cheek.

“Imagine this. I couldn’t have planned our last little meeting better, not in a hundred years.” Vince Foster’s soft tone belied the evil lurking beneath.

“I always figured you for the boss man.”

“You’ve reached the end of your ride, Ranger McClain.” The man laughed. “Uh-oh, I plumb forgot, you lost your job. That’s right. Now, you’re a wanted man. Folks in Santa Anna will pin a medal on me for killing poor ol’ Mrs. Tucker’s murderer.”

Luke ignored the icy pinpricks. He answered evenly, “What makes you so sure you’ll be the one left breathing?”

“This guarantees it.” Foster poked him harder. “And probably because I’m doing the holding of it. Yep, McClain, my finger is about to put a hole in your skull a whole mess of lawmen sons a bitches could pass through at full gallop.”

“Way I see it, we have an equal chance.”

“I’ve been counting. Reckon I heard six shots from your Colt. You done spent all your bargaining chips.”

Coldness spread in waves. Luke knew he’d lost the tally. Maybe Foster was right. Or maybe not. He reckoned King of the Bluffers had one more hand to deal.

“First, mind telling me why you have it in for me? You must have a reason. Do I know you?”

“Remember Willie Foster?”

Why hadn’t he connected the name? An oversight for sure. How could he forget that bloodthirsty demon? Though this one had more age on him, the two shared the same shifty eyes, hateful sneer, and devil soul.

He measured the man who wore hate like a heavy overcoat. Foster’s eyes widened, anticipating his victory, positive he had the upper hand. The man would be dead wrong on that last part. Luke gripped the Colt tighter. Shot or no, he’d give him a heck of a fight.

“Willie? Willie who? Maybe you oughta refresh my memory. I’ve come across a bunch of cutthroats in the last five years. Which sorry piece of scum was he?”

“The one you ambushed and fed to the crows. My boy.”

“Oh, that murdering piece of scum. The one who unloaded his pistol in the gut of a new recruit, barely nineteen.”

Foster shrugged. “Willie had the right to survive just like everybody else. A man’s gotta do what he’s gotta.”

“I’m curious. Before you walk me to the gates of hell, I’d like to know why you framed Jack Day.”

“Make any difference?”

“Humor a dying man.”

Vince Foster brushed away a horsefly that landed on his ear. He shifted the plug of chewing tobacco in his mouth.

“Reckon no harm in telling since you’ll be dead. Jack caught Willie in his root cellar. Ran my boy off his land. That taste of revenge was mighty sweet. But not as satisfying as getting you out of the way.”

The most twisted thinking he’d ever heard—to frame and kill for a son who’d never had a decent care for a living soul.

“And Mad Dog Perkins? I suppose that was your handiwork, too?” Luke’s gaze never wavered from Foster’s. He only needed a small opening.

“Had to. You were hot on his trail. Didn’t want to take a chance you might beat the truth out of him.”

If he meant to act, he’d best do it now.

Six shots spent? Or five? The next second would tell.

With a quick jerk of his arm, Luke raised the pistol. In planned precision, he cocked and fired into Boss Man’s belly. For all his hot air, Foster’s reflexes were a second slow. The bullet flew wide above Luke’s head.

The gang leader wore a surprised look. Blood stained the hand he’d placed over his stomach a dark red.

“Seems I had one left.” Luke knelt. “Reckon you ain’t much in the way of adding and subtracting, Foster.”

He untied the bandana from Foster’s neck and pressed it to the wound.

“Go to hell!”

Life ebbed from the man in final, gasping breaths.

Luke closed the lids over eyes that would never have another innocent in their sights again.

Through a haze, he felt a presence. Arms lifted him up.

“Nothing more you can do for him, little brother.”

“Damn! What a waste.”

Duel clasped him tight, patting his back. “He’s not worth it. Remember, he made his choices.”

Luke was tired and felt old. “You’re right. What I can’t understand… Foster’s hate ruined so many lives.”

“No figuring some people. I’m lucky if I can make heads or tails about myself. Jessie says I’m clear as muddy water.”

“Good ol’ Jess. How is she?”

“You can ask her yourself. She’s at the Day farm. Along with Marley Rose, Lily, and baby Ethan.”

Luke’s brain appeared to be in a fog. He stepped back for a better view. Surely this was a dream. He thought he heard mention of…

“The Days? Who in tarnation is Ethan? And what in hell are you doing here anyway?”

“Whoa, hoss. One at a time.”

Luke took an exasperated breath and adopted a more reasonable tone. “May I ask why you’re at the Day farm?”

“Looking for you. Bad news, Luke…Pop died.”

Pain and sadness flowed over him. He turned to stare into the distance. “I’ve been meaning to come for a visit. Things kept getting in the way. I never got to tell him…”

“Pop knew what was in your heart. We didn’t always have to speak it. You were his favorite, you know.”

Luke whirled. “He never let on. I thought he favored you.” Strange how a person kept secrets. “What happened?”

“He went fast, no suffering. Fell down a ravine. We buried him beside Ma. I’m sorry.”

“When?”

“Three weeks ago. We had a hard time tracking you down. If it hadn’t been for the Rangers in Waco, we’d still be hunting you. Ever hear of contacting your family once in a blue moon?”

The thought had crossed his mind. Carrying feelings for your brother’s wife didn’t exactly make going home an option. Luke suddenly realized he hadn’t thought of Jessie in a long while. Not since Glory had taken her place.

“Well, I’ve been sorta busy.” He squinted up. He was glad Duel would never know his sin. “I’m assuming Ethan is your newest addition. How many kids call you Papa now?”

“Only six. There’s been a lull in Jessie finding strays.”

“Have mercy!”

“You’d better get busy, little brother. By the way, I met Glory. A special woman. If you don’t marry her, I’ll know you’re crazy.”

“That would just confirm everyone’s suspicions.”

“She’s in love with you, you know.”

Not very likely. Stabbing pain rose from the depths of his heart. He could never make up for what he did.

“After the way I spoke to her most recently, I’m the last person she’d want to have any dealings with.”

“We’ll see.” Duel slapped his back. “Let’s go home.”

“Not before I exchange Miss Gut Twister for Soldier.”

* * *

“They’re here,” Patience screeched.

The parlor gathering stampeded for the door.

Glory stumbled over a foot. Her pulse raced as Luke’s face swam in her memory. Someone took her hand. The snort of horses came closer when they stepped onto the porch.

This cursed blindness!

“Oh no,” Hope murmured.

“What?” Was he dead? She pictured his lanky form draped lifeless across Soldier’s back.

“He’s been shot!”

The squawk from Patience shot an arrow through Glory’s heart.

“Who?” She forced the question through stiff lips.

“Mr. Luke, that’s who.”

Dear Mother Mary! Her worst fears had come to pass. Ice formed in her veins.

“Mr. Luke, you’ve been shot. And it wasn’t even Glory this time.”

“Nope, Punkin. The shooter didn’t have quite the aim your sister has. He wasn’t near as pretty either.”

A squeak of leather as a body slid from the saddle, the pound of footsteps, and Glory found herself swept up…into the arms of her cowboy.

Only she didn’t mind. Not one bit.

A big smile curved her mouth as a rainbow formed inside that dark place where her fears dwelt. The only concern on her mind was that he’d vanish on the breeze.

“Miss me?”

Even if the host of flutters had subsided, the thickness in her throat made speaking difficult. She nodded, holding on tight.

“Hey, don’t spring a leak now. I can’t handle tears.”

“I’ve been so worried.”

“That makes two of us. What makes you think you can go traipsing after murderers in the dead of night in a storm?”

“I had Horace with me.”

A husky gravel lent itself to the joking tone. “Not that I’m ungrateful, but don’t let it happen again. I won’t have you risking your neck to save my sorry hide. You understand, lady?”

Luke’s soft breath disturbed the wispy hair beside her ear. The charmer hadn’t lost his touch. She found the tendrils weren’t the sole things he disturbed. A mass of tingles made her wonder if another storm had passed by. Lightning bolts were said to bring this measure of electrified awareness.

Another nod gave him the answer he sought. Yet, she knew she’d do it all again should the need arise.

Saving her perfect stranger was something worthwhile and noble—a calling she wouldn’t ignore.

“Wunkle Wuke! Me. Hold me.”

Glory gathered from the jerks below that Marley Rose tugged on his pant leg.

“Hey there, Peanut. You’re next on my list.”

“Put me down,” Glory protested. “You shouldn’t be lifting me with a wound.”

Patience came out the door. “Mr. Luke, who shot you?”

“Well, Punkin. Let’s just say he won’t ever do it again.”

Back on her own feet, Glory patted his back and stomach. “Where are you bleeding?”

“Shoot, it’s only a scratch. And nowhere near the vital parts the last bunch were.”

A flush filled her cheeks with warmth. He’d never let sleeping dogs lie.

“It’s his arm, dear,” Ruth Day said. “Luke, come in and we’ll get that bandaged. In fact, I want you all to wash up for supper. Won’t hear a word of a soul leaving.”

“Yes, ma’am. Duel, Cap’n Dan, you’d best pay attention. These ladies serve up some of the best darn food you ever sank your teeth into.”

* * *

Satisfied Luke wouldn’t lose his arm to infection, Glory allowed the relief she’d held at bay. They’d finished the evening meal and gotten the dishes out of the way. She couldn’t refuse his request for a moonlight stroll. Well, she could’ve, but didn’t. Their shoulders brushed as they walked. Her arm looped comfortably through the crook of his elbow, she leaned more fully into his presence. The essence of all that was her dearest dream brought a heady glow.

“Forgive me for what I said to you. I had to get you away from there. Scared the holy Moses out of me when I saw you.”

“You were despicable. I thought you hated me. Until your kiss. A man who put that much tenderness in a kiss couldn’t believe the words he used.”

“I had good reason. My plan worked though.”

She jabbed a finger in his shoulder, making sure it was the uninjured one. “You should’ve told me what was going on.”

“I couldn’t take a chance. Besides, I know your mulish disposition. Boy, do I know it!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Not a thing, darling.”

The cigar band on her left hand bespoke his love.

Even if he dared not trust himself with the word.

While everyone had busied with meal preparations, she’d fumbled beneath her bed for the remembrance that made sense of everything—their yesterdays and their tomorrows.

Now on his arm, she wished for a mere second of sight. The soft, silver moonlight probably played in his brown hair. Maybe even creating a halo at the crown, an idea she found quite ludicrous. This man called McClain was no angel. That fact she found most comforting. A heavenly being couldn’t make her this delirious. She believed she’d take Luke any way she could get him, whether tarnished or saintly.

“Captain Dan and I leave at dawn for the Texas State Penitentiary at Huntsville.”

They stopped walking. She felt a tad lost when he released her arm and they leaned on the corral fence. A froggie clan set loud clamors down by the creek. Their efforts motivated the crickets and night owls, enlivening the air.

“Am I dreaming?”

Luke couldn’t take his eyes off her. She represented everything he’d ever wanted or needed. It didn’t seem possible he’d returned to where his soul had found such contentment.

This was the only place he’d felt truly whole.

Where he belonged.

And where he knew his name was safely tucked inside someone’s heart. A rare thing to find.

“I surely hope I’m not sleepwalking. If so, I never want to wake up.” He drank his fill of the vision he’d tried so hard to walk away from. He pressed his lips to her forehead. His next words came barely louder than a whisper. “Nope, you’re real all right.”

His gaze lit on the cigar band encircling her finger. That she saw fit to wear such an inadequate token of his affection released warmth in him. Beside his Glory, all other women paled.

Including Jessie, which he never thought possible. None of the old familiar ache had come over him when he came face-to-face with her this afternoon. He realized the feelings had been mere infatuation.

“You know, I gave up on having my papa home. When this thief stole my sight, I had no hope of granting his last wish.”

“Then I shall take extra pleasure in making it happen.”

“My family owes you more than we can ever repay.”

“No more than my debt to you for saving my hide, pretty lady. You don’t suffer from a shortage of courage.”

“You deeply touched our lives. We’ll not be the same. Not Mama, Hope, Patience…or myself.”

“Pretty good for a nosy meddler, huh?”

“McClain, are you mocking me?” She turned. “You are!”

“No harm in poking a little fun.”

“You’re mocking…and you’re staring. I can feel it.”

Soft rays outlined her curved moist mouth. Luke took her face between his palms. Playful nibbles along the bottom lip brought the whimper he’d sought.

Teasing suddenly had the appeal of a sack of gourds.

He wanted to taste her fully with nothing held back.

The crush of his lips on hers set his heart hammering. It threatened to jump from its lodging and take up company with hers.

“Have mercy,” he murmured weakly into her hair.

Glory struggled equally, it seemed, resting her forehead on his chin.

The sampling had shaken them both evidently. He took the hand that bore his token, tracing it with his finger. He couldn’t trust himself to speak yet. A strange tremble ran the length of him. He simply let her tender inner spirit and the outward beauty of her features feed the hope inside his hungry soul.

When he could speak, the words came haltingly, as if spoken by someone who had only learned to make the sounds.

“The night I left here, I swore I’d not return. It appeared useless. You spurned my offers at every turn. I saw no need to risk further trampling of my pride.”

Glory opened her mouth to speak. He shushed her with a finger over her lips.

“Not yet. Let me finish. Please?” He took a gulp of air. “I’m not esteemed or professional, which appear to be two qualities you most seek in a mate. Anyhow, not in the way of the good doctor. My admirable qualities are a bit harder to spot and covered with rust. But I believe with all my heart and soul I can make you never regret a day of knowing me. You’ll make me the happiest man in the world if you say yes.”

Luke knelt amid the sharp rocks and thorny weeds. He lifted her hand to his lips.

“Miss Glory Marie Day, will you be my wife? To share with me all the riches I may possess, pitiful few they are… And to bear my children?” Then, he added in a rush, “And to never shoot me again, not even in a fit of desperation.”

Her silence scared him.

When she opened her mouth to speak, he stopped her. “Please, don’t say anything. Not tonight. Think about this and then give me your answer.”