Beneath The Texas Sky Read online

  “I have my reasons.” Bethanie lifted her head slightly. “I’m not a runaway. I’m almost twenty and old enough to decide for myself where I wish to live.”

  Josh could sense she would not beg or cry, and his admiration for her grew. She did not have to tell him the truth behind her request. He had seen the lust in the eyes of her uncle.

  “Where is it you wish to live?” he asked as he watched her slender fingers move nervously back and forth across the bumpy bedspread. He could tell by her manner that she had no answer to his question.

  “That’s not your problem,” Bethanie answered defensively. “I can take care of myself.”

  “If I say yes…” Josh’s eyebrows pushed together in thought. She was about as able to take care of herself as a leaf in a tornado, but he didn’t think it would do any good to argue the point. “How much is it worth to you?”

  “I’ll pay all I have,” Bethanie answered honestly, “but we must get out of town before I’m missed.”

  Josh understood her need for secrecy. If Wilbur suspected she might leave, he would simply lock her in a room until everyone was gone. Josh hated to think about her being left in this place with that disgusting excuse for a man downstairs. Even in the faded dress she was one of the most beautiful young women he’d ever seen. “I don’t want your rings, but…” he hesitated, a plan forming in his mind. He’d be willing to bet a month’s pay she had nowhere to go. Her stiffly held body told him she wasn’t looking for a handout, either.

  He reached over and lifted the largest ring from her hand. The gold slid easily onto his third finger. Josh examined the fine workmanship as he spoke. “Can you ride?”

  “Better than most men,” Bethanie answered without emotion.

  “Can you use a gun?”

  “If need be. During the war there were few men. I had to learn how to shoot.”

  Josh twisted the ring on his finger. “If I help you get away, will you agree to help me out for a few days? That is, unless you plan to stay with your aunt.”

  Bethanie chewed at the corner of her full bottom lip. “I’m traveling alone.”

  “Good,” Josh smiled. “Then you may have a few days free. My brother owns a ranch south of Fort Worth. If you’ll help out with the cooking for a roundup due to start soon, I’ll give you back this ring and consider us square.”

  Bethanie nodded agreement, but a touch of apprehension colored her eyes a darker shade of green.

  Josh added, already thinking of problems they might encounter while traveling, “I’ll wear the ring for now. Should anyone ask, we’ll explain you as my wife. Proper young women don’t usually travel even this wild country without a chaperone, and I plan on dropping your aunt off at the first settlement. You have my word as a gentleman, you’ll be safe.”

  Bethanie was silent for a moment. Josh knew she was considering his last statement. It gnawed at him that she should question his code of honor, but then he had as yet given her no reason to trust him.

  She took her grandmother’s gold band and slipped it on her finger as if the action sealed a bargain. “All right. I’ll do whatever it takes to get out of here. I don’t mind helping cook at your brother’s ranch. It will give me time to think.”

  “Fine.” Josh relaxed for the first time. He stood and pulled at his bearded chin. “Two things before you go. First, tell no one of our agreement. No one.”

  Bethanie nodded. “I have no one to say farewell to in this town.”

  “Get yourself a pair of denim pants and a boy’s shirt.” Josh continued. “Second, meet me behind the hotel an hour before dawn. I’ll get an extra horse, and you can ride on ahead before your uncle comes out. Later, we can explain to your aunt that I agreed to take three for the price of two.”

  “Why dress in pants?” Bethanie leaned forward, interested in his plan.

  Josh rubbed his forehead with one hand. Weariness rippled his features. “If someone sees us from a distance, I’d rather they think two men and two women are riding than one man and three women.”

  “I think that sounds wise.” Bethanie stood to leave, satisfied with their agreement. As she offered her hand to thank Josh Weston, a sharp rap sounded at the door. She jumped beside him, energy exploding within her.

  Josh grabbed her elbow and whirled her toward the opening in the panel. “Get back,” he whispered. His body pressed closer to her as he pulled her into the dark corner. “I’ll meet you out back before dawn.”

  Before Bethanie could comment, he shoved her back through the opening. She watched in fear as he pulled the panel almost closed. From her darkened bedroom, she saw Josh’s movements through the slit opening. He darted across the dimly lit room. One hand silently pulled the door open as the other rested lightly on his gun.

  To Bethanie’s surprise a priest stood in the hall. His face was in shadows under his hood, reminding her of the Angel of Death.

  “Brother Michael.” Josh greeted the priest warmly with a brisk slap on the holy man’s back. He grabbed the brown robes of the priest’s shoulders and began pulling him in before Brother Michael could speak. Then, Josh quickly secured the door.

  “Joshua, my son,” the young priest whispered, as he removed his hood to reveal sandy hair and a bearded boyish face. His eyes were light blue with an interesting alloy of kindness and mischief.

  Bethanie watched in fascination through the crack as the two men shook hands. They were alike in age and height, but all their features varied. Josh with his dark earth brown eyes and black hair contrasted with Michael’s sky blue eyes and sandy curls. Each was goodlooking in a strong, independent way.

  “Pretty good cover,” Mike complimented himself. “Nobody pays any attention to me when I’m dressed like this. My guess is I could stay right here when the outfit has this big meeting next week, and they wouldn’t even notice me.”

  “Now wait a minute, Mike,” Josh interrupted. “I know you’d like to stay around, but things are just too hot here for you right now. You’re going to be needed at the roundup. Ben says there’s bound to be trouble.”

  “Oh, your brother is a worrier.” Mike grunted and moved to the bed. “The roundup doesn’t sound near as much fun as being here. I’d give these robes to know who’s the boss of this operation.” He flopped unceremoniously onto the bedcovers and stretched out with his hands locked behind his head. The bed bounced slowly to a creaky halt beneath his weight.

  Josh shook his head in mock irritation as he slapped at Michael’s mud-covered boots. “I doubt I’ll get any sleep tonight, but should I have the chance, a clean bed would be nice.”

  Mike crossed his boots, disinterested in Josh’s penchant for neatness. “I’d sure think twice before closing my eyes in this place. I wouldn’t be surprised if our host, Wilbur Brewer, is the boss himself.”

  Josh shook his head. “No way—he hasn’t got the brains.” He looked at the yellowed ceiling. “Speaking of Wilbur, I’ve got some bad news. He wants me to take his wife, daughter, and niece out of here with me tomorrow. Seems he’s heard some stories about a few of his business partners and doesn’t want his womenfolk around.”

  “What?” Mike yelled and sat up. “Hellfire and brimstone, Josh! We can’t have three women with us. The riding’s hard and fast once we hit open country.”

  Josh nodded. “I know, I know. But he threatened to blow my cover. I’m not real fond of being shot.”

  Mike’s face brightened. “Let’s leave tonight and avoid him. I can be ready in an hour.”

  “No,” Josh answered flatly. “We can take them as far as Ben’s ranch. He can see they get a stage from there. I gave my word to his niece and I aim to keep it.”

  “I don’t know. It’s dangerous travelin’ with women right now. More white people have been murdered by Indians in Texas in the last year than I figure were killed all together before. It’s bad enough dying, but what those savages do to the womenfolk ain’t fit to talk about in hell.”

  “I’ve made up my mind, Mike,” Josh st
ated. “I’ll meet you out back at six tomorrow morning.”

  “All right, ain’t no use arguing with you, I can see that. You’re probably the stubbornest man in Texas, next to your brother. Must be somethin’ in the Weston bloodline.” Mike rose from the bed, not bothering to straighten the covers. “I’ll go collect my gear and get a few hours’ sleep. You brought me a horse, didn’t you? It might look funny for a priest to be caught stealing one.”

  “Sure, I brought one,” Josh answered as he unlocked the door. “But I still need to buy another for one of the ladies.”

  “Well, good luck. I hear there ain’t a horse for sale for twenty miles,” Mike added as he touched the doorknob. “I’ll see you at six, my son.” Without another word Mike pulled his hood low and vanished from the room. Josh waited a few minutes before blowing out the candle and disappearing out the same door.

  Though it was not yet ten o’clock, the town already rested sleepily under low, brooding clouds. Spring was an unpredictable, sometimes treacherous time in Texas. Josh walked across the street toward the stables with the casual grace of a powerful animal. Most people had already retired for the evening. Many of the stores were boarded up and abandoned. The war had crippled more than just men; many businesses folded when Confederate money became worthless. Without federal troops, and with most young men gone to war, the wild, nomadic Indians had enjoyed a field day attacking poorly defended settlements. The once wide frontier line retreated east and south, allowing survivors to nurse their wounds and plead for federal troops to reopen forts from the Red River to the Rio Grande.

  Josh felt an itchiness deep within himself to leave and avoid not only nature’s coming storm but the human one as well. When Wilbur’s friends hit town, the small, sleeping settlement would feel it like sandcastles after a wave. If his brother Ben was right, the men meeting here were planning to control the cattle industry in Texas. If so, all the state might feel the ripple if these men weren’t stopped somehow.

  Josh looked about him, searching each shadowed corner for movement, but the streets were sleeping. San Antonio had suffered many times and always seemed to be able to rebuild. Great men may have died here, like Jim Bowie and Davy Crockett, but the townspeople, like ants after a windstorm, rebuilt their homes with unlimited diligence. These nameless settlers were the ones who would eventually tame this wild land, not with guns, but with hammers and plows.

  It seemed as if all his life Josh had been riding into troubled weather. If it weren’t Indian raids or Mexican bandits crossing the border, there were always a few men like Wilbur Brewer out to make quick money at others’ expense. Josh was bone-tired. The war had knocked all the fight out of him, and now he longed to settle down in peace. He removed his hat and shook his hair in the wind. Peace had never seemed farther away to him than it did at this moment.

  Josh stepped cautiously into the darkened stable. Except for a filthy stable boy curled asleep in an empty stall, the barn was deserted. Josh nudged the boy lightly with his boot. “Hey, kid, wake up.”

  The boy rolled over and rubbed his eyes with dirty fists. “Yeah, whata you want?” He thrashed amid the straw to his feet as if he could, in his small way, defend the stable.

  “I need to buy a couple of horses, tonight,” Josh answered, wishing he had a washtub handy to throw the boy into. The kid smelled more like a horse than a boy.

  “What’s wrong with them two you rode in with awhile ago?” the boy asked.

  “Nothing, I just need another for a friend. One that’s gentle, if you’ve got one, and another for supplies. About dawn I’ll want my extra saddle put on the horse I led in.”

  The filth-covered child shook his head. “I can saddle your horses, but I ain’t got any for sale. Fact is, the only horses I got in this place besides yours and my own nag are three that belong to the hotel keeper. He already told me he’ll be usin’ two of ’em tomorrow.”

  Josh thought for a minute. “Saddle all three of his. I’ll make arrangements with the hotel owner.” If they traveled light, they could make do without a packhorse. He knew Wilbur would plan to keep the third horse here in case he needed it. Well, Wilbur would find himself afoot after tomorrow. He couldn’t accuse his own niece of being a horse thief.

  The boy straightened to his full five-foot height. “I’ll have ’em ready at five, mister, but there be one question,” the kid asserted.

  “What is it?” Josh asked, fishing in his pocket for a coin to give the lad.

  “I’d like to trail along with you.” The boy stood tall. “My family’s all gone, and I’d just as soon not be in town when trouble blows in. I’ve been watching the past few days, and something’s gettin’ ready to happen.”

  “Sorry, son,” Josh answered, feeling regretful about the kid. “You’ll be better off here than with me.”

  “Beggin’ your pardon, mister, but my best chances are with you.” The kid slung his brown hair out of his eyes. “And that priest,” he added with a glint of intelligence in his light brown eyes.

  “What makes you think I have anything to do with a priest?” Josh tilted his head in interest. If this boy had put him and Mike together, who else would have?

  “Simple, mister.” The kid scratched his dirty hair. “I seen him go over to the hotel an hour or so ago, and I know you’re the only stranger in town stayin’ there. The fat old toad who runs the place has never been the religious sort.”

  “You’re a smart kid. Why do you want to travel with me?” Josh smiled at the dirty suntanned face. Nature had been monotonous in his coloring, for face, eyes, and hair were all a sandy brown. Josh wondered, if clean, the boy’s hair might have golden lines as did his eyes when they turned to the light.

  “I’ve been waiting for you.” The kid smiled slyly. “My brother was a Ranger. He showed me somethin’ once.” The kid moved to where Josh had stacked his two-saddles. He slipped his first two fingers between the leather of the saddle on the right side. Slowly he drew out a silver badge, the emblem of the Texas Rangers. The metal shone brightly between the boy’s muddy fingers. “My brother told me if a Ranger wants to travel unnoticed he slides his badge in here. He said all Rangers do this from time to time, but nobody else knows this hidin’ place. He only told me because he knew I would be a Ranger as soon as I got big enough.” The boy seemed certain of his ambition.

  Josh smiled easily. “What makes you think you have any proof? Maybe I bought the saddle or stole it.”

  “Maybe you did, mister.” The boy seemed to already have thought of that angle. “Or maybe you, or that priest, is really a Ranger. You both got beards, and I ain’t seen many Rangers without beards. I figure I’ll take my chances. If I don’t cotton to riding with you, I can always take out on my own. I know the country as well as any man.”

  “How old are you?” Josh asked, wondering how many years this child thought it took to make a man.

  “Fourteen, almost fifteen.” The boy kicked at the straw, obviously trying to distract from his lie.

  Josh knew the little fellow could be no more than ten or eleven at the most, but he figured a man had a right to his secrets, even if the man was only half grown. “What’s your name, son?” Josh questioned.

  “Dustin Barfield, but folks call me Dusty.”

  Josh remembered Sam Barfield who was killed at an Indian battle along the Pease River in 1860. Colonel Ross had called Sam a fine man and an asset to the Rangers, but Josh made no comment about it to the boy.

  “Don’t you have any family around here, Dusty?” Josh asked, knowing he must not or he couldn’t possibly look so unkempt.

  “No.” The boy smiled, knowing this stranger was considering taking him along. “But I got a horse, a gun, and even a watch with initials on it.”

  Josh almost laughed out loud. The child wanted him to know he was no street bum by telling of a treasured watch. “I must be losing my mind, but you can tag along. If we make it across the open country, I know a ranch that could use a good man.” Josh put the emphas
is on man. “Have the horses saddled early, and I’ll be over an hour before dawn.

  “Yes, sir.” Dusty smiled, spreading white teeth from ear to ear.

  “And put that badge back where you found it. You’d better forget you ever saw it,” Josh snapped, with as much sternness as he could muster. “You know the Rangers are inactive now.”

  “Yes, sir.” Dusty muttered again. “But not for long.”

  Josh turned and started back to the hotel shaking his head. The kid was right; a Ranger didn’t do the jobs that needed doing just for the pay. If Texas hadn’t had the Rangers during the war, there might not be a settler left in the whole state.

  Josh decided he must be getting soft in the head. First, he was trapped into taking two women into the wildest country in Texas, then the redhead, and now a boy. This trip might not be the easiest he’d ever tried, but it certainly promised to be the most interesting. And maybe the most dangerous.

  Chapter Three

  True to her word, Bethanie said nothing about her plans to accompany the other women and Josh Weston out of San Antonio. She packed for Allison, while her cousin rattled incessantly with excitement. The tiny blonde was unaware of any danger in traveling, seeing her adventure only as an outing. Bethanie decided in Allison’s case ignorance was probably a blessing and she wouldn’t frighten her cousin with reality.

  With Allison finally settled in for a few hours’ sleep, Bethanie began preparing for her own journey. Tiptoeing down to the kitchen, she rummaged through a load of clean clothes she’d just washed for a man and his three sons. Though the garments were worn, she managed to find two pairs of pants and a shirt that looked close to her size. She crossed the darkened kitchen to a ghostly white jar on the top shelf of a pie cabinet. Martha always stashed household money in the vessel, including all the change Bethanie earned doing laundry. Hoping to pay for the clothes she was taking, Bethanie pulled two bills out and quickly stuffed them deep into the laundry basket.