“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 Tuht-seena Maa Tatsinuupi, Wolf With Star, because he tracked them like a fierce wolf. He also knew Eleven Meade, Luke Dimitry and Tapan Moore, but not Sil Jaudon.
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 mucho fine sons, Emmett.”
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. “Mío love, maybe you should buy ze ranch from Uncle Emmett.” She winked. “Until thees ees over. Then he buys eet back. That weel make eet mucho tougher for them, I theenk.”
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 who runs the land office there. He can be the witness and make sure the paper is in order. We’ll take it to Caisson. After we find your friend.”
Emmett chuckled in spite of the seriousness of the moment. “I’d sure like to be thar when that awful woman hears the news.” He found himself saying, “Yu’re gonna like John Checker, boy. The two o’ ya are cut from the same tree.”
Rule nodded and stood as well. “Let me get my war clothes on.” He put an arm on Emmett’s shoulder. “After we find Ranger Checker, we’ll figure out our next step. All right?”
His comment was far more confident than he felt. Why wouldn’t John Checker have caught up…if he could?
At the other side of the table, Rikor struggled against the lack of sleep, but wanted to show his maturity. His eyelids blinked rapidly as he resisted the urge to shut them for just a minute.
Stiffling a yawn, he finally asked, “Should we get our wagon out of sight? You want us to put our milk cow in your barn?”
“Good idea, Rikor,” Rule said, walking toward the bedroom. “We’ll take care of it before we leave. You’ve done plenty, son. Maybe you should stay behind and get some sleep. We’ll be back in a couple of days.”
The young man shook his head negatively and asked the questions hovering over the room like vultures. “What if John’s…dead? What’s going to happen to our ranch?”