Texas Blue (2 page)

Duncan frowned as he strapped on his gear, and Lewt sensed he’d already had this argument with himself. “There’s been a change of plans. The ‘suitors’ will have to handle matters without me. I’m needed here. One ranger less in this fight might swing the balance. Besides, I sent all three men the train tickets and reserved rooms for them at Crystal’s place across from the station if they need a room tonight. If they’re too dumb to figure out that they need to get off at Anderson Glen tomorrow night, hire a buggy, and drive out to Whispering Mountain, they’re sure too dumb to marry my cousins. The three men coming to court the girls can consider getting there their first test.”

Lewt laughed. “You don’t fool me, Duncan, you hate playing matchmaker. You’re running out on the job! I’ve always had the feeling you’re half afraid of those girls.”

Duncan opened his mouth to argue, then shrugged. “I grew up with them pestering me. They made my life hell wanting me to play with them, or worse, wash more than once a week. There’s not a man in the state good enough for any one. My dad, being a former ranger, will understand why I have to ride tonight, but my uncle Teagen’s bound to throw a fit. I could send out royalty and he’d still find fault in any man thinking of marrying his little girls.” Duncan swore. “Only they’re not little girls anymore. All three are well on their way to being old maids.”

“How about letting me go along?” Lewt teased his friend. “I wouldn’t mind a chance to marry into one of the finest families in Texas.”

Duncan swung into the saddle laughing. “No offense, friend, but if I sent out someone like you to the ranch, my father and uncles would take turns shooting me and they wouldn’t waste but one bullet. They’d shoot me, dig it out, load up, and shoot me again.”

“Come on, Duck.” Lewt used Duncan’s nickname as he grinned.

“Forget it, Lewt. You’d be the last man in Texas I’d send home to meet my cousins.” Duncan looked down at the gambler. “One look at you and the girls would have you run off the ranch. They may be home alone without any of the McMurray men around, but don’t think they’re helpless.”

Lewt looked down at his tailored white suit, his colorful vest, his diamond ring. He dressed exactly like what he was, a successful gambler. He knew most of the powerful men in the state capital by their first names and they trusted him to arrange high-stakes games for them where the dealing would be honest, but not one of these rich and powerful men would take him home to meet their daughters or sisters. Duncan wouldn’t even let him meet his cousins. The young McMurray women, heirs to one of the biggest, richest ranches in Texas, probably wouldn’t speak to him anyway. Most of the
good folks
in this state thought the government should pay a bounty on gambler pelts.

Lewt waved farewell to Duncan McMurray and the other rangers, realizing no one thought he was good enough to be in any family. If they knew his roots, they’d be positive. His pedigree was so bad he was surprised the dogcatcher didn’t try to cage him. Still, it would be interesting to get an inside look at a real family.

As the rangers rode south, Lewt walked back toward Crystal’s place. It was probably too late to get in on a high-stakes game, but he didn’t feel sleepy. Duncan might not want to take him home to meet the family, but they were still good friends and Lewt would worry about him until he saw the dust-covered ranger step back into the bar and demand beer.

He smiled and lifted his hand to wave at the trail of vanishing riders. Some would say the backstreets of any Texas small town were as dangerous as fighting outlaws, but for Lewt, this was home. The drunks and the beggars were as much his family as the gamblers and the dealers.

If he had been allowed to go home to meet the ladies, Duncan might have been surprised. One or more of them might have found him more than tolerable. After all, he wasn’t as bad a choice as Duncan seemed to think. He’d never hit a woman. A few of the ladies at Crystal’s claimed he was a grand lover, and he had money stashed in half the banks in Texas. Every saloon girl he’d ever met had mooned over him, so he couldn’t be bad looking.

Lewt grinned. He wouldn’t have cared if Duncan’s cousin was homely as sin and toothless, he might have married her just so he could have a good family; he’d just insist the lights go out when he came home at night.

A family, he laughed. There was no use dreaming. It wasn’t something that he’d ever have, and marrying a woman just in the hopes of getting one would be cruel.

L
EWT PATERSON WALKED INTO CRYSTAL’S NOT INTERESTED in gambling tonight, or drinking. He needed to think, and a noisy bar felt more like home than anywhere on earth. He ordered a beer and looked around for an empty table near the back. Duncan had gotten him dreaming about getting married and living a respectable life. He needed to wash such thoughts out of his head and accept reality. Wives and children didn’t belong in his world, and he had no idea how to step out of it into another.

His gaze came to rest on a stranger dressed in black, sitting alone at a table with fine leather luggage piled around him. A tall man about Lewt’s size with glasses perched on a nose that must have taken generations of money to breed. His clothes were expensive, but conservatively tailored, his pale skin Boston light. Boredom seemed permanently tattooed across his face.

Lewt knew without a doubt that he was looking at one of Duncan’s picks to go north at dawn and court his cousins. The stranger might as well have had old money pinned all over his chest.

Lewt ordered a second beer and wound his way toward the potential bridegroom for the cousins. Duncan had said he’d picked only from the finest families and insisted they all be well educated.

The man didn’t look up from his book as Lewt neared—an easterner’s mistake in any western bar. Lewt only hoped the stranger would live long enough to learn.

“Pardon me, mister, but I was supposed to meet a Duncan McMurray tonight and he doesn’t seem to be around. He said he would be with a gentleman in his late twenties, and you’re the only man in the bar who might fit the description he gave me.”

The stranger looked up. “What description was that?” he said in a bored tone.

“Tall, distinguished, obviously from a good family.” Lewt smiled. Flattery worked every time. “Any chance you are a friend of Mr. McMurray?”

“I know him, but I’ll not call him a friend.”

The stranger had just made his second mistake. Never admit anything to any man until you knew you could trust him.

The stranger moved his book as Lewt set the drinks on the table. “McMurray never said anything about my meeting anyone tonight. In fact, I hadn’t planned to set foot in this place.” His pale eyes studied Lewt from flashy clothes to fancy hand-tooled boots.

Lewt had no doubt the stranger found him lacking, but he didn’t care. “You did get the train ticket and the instructions?”

His question caught the man off-guard.

“Yes,” he stuttered slightly. “And the room key, but I wish to inform Mr. McMurray that the room was not at all satisfactory. I’d rather sit up for the night than be subjected to such filth.”

“Crystal’s rooms are some of the best around, I’ve heard.” Lewt took a seat, acting interested in the complainer’s problems. He served the beer without expecting a thank-you.

“Sir, you wouldn’t believe it, but the sheets were dirty.” The stranger sampled a drink, then showed his distaste for the local brew before taking another swallow. “When I informed the staff I needed the linens changed, they told me it wasn’t Wednesday yet. Can you imagine?”

“Horrible.” Lewt offered his hand. “Harry’s the name. Harry West.” He’d learned a long time ago that people rarely remember common names, and he had no intention of ever seeing this fool again after tonight.

“Walter Freeport the Fourth,” the stranger said. “I don’t know about you, Mr. West, but I’ve seriously considered backing out on this visit my family seems to think might be worth my while. If conditions near the capital are so primitive, what must it be like in the mountains?”

Lewt played along. “I’m inclined to agree with you. One has to wonder what these princesses of Texas must look like if they have to search far and wide and offer passage from anywhere to eligible men. And I’ve even heard that the ranch is in the hills of Texas. The word
mountain
came when they translated the place from its Indian name.” He lifted two fingers at the bartender, silently ordering whiskey. “It’s said the ranch is so huge, Apache still make winter camps in its hills.”

Fear flashed in Walter’s eyes. He took the whiskey delivered and downed it quickly. Then, somewhat calmed, he raised his eyebrow and studied Lewt’s clothes. He had the look of a man tolerating someone lesser than himself.

Lewt grinned into his beer as he shoved the second whiskey in front of Walter. He was in. Accepted. It might be interesting to spend some time with the stranger. Lewt considered himself a good judge of character and had already figured out that Duncan hadn’t come face-to-face with Walter or he wouldn’t have sent the man a ticket. “This your first time west, Mr. Freeport?”

“And my last,” Walter answered. “If I find one of the McMurray women to my liking, I’ll be making it plain from the beginning that we’ll live north with my family.”

“Wise choice,” Lewt said, thinking this fellow didn’t have a chance of taking a McMurray anywhere. “The women here are beautiful, though,” he added.

“Not from what I’ve seen. One of the girls who works here followed me to my room and offered her services. She wasn’t even pretty and when she had the nerve to touch me, I was forced to slap her hard.” Walter brushed at his coat as if the touch had left a stain.

Lewt gripped the mug in his hand so hard he wouldn’t have been surprised to see the glass shatter. He’d like nothing better than to slam his fist into Walter Freeport the Fourth’s straight little nose. The girl he’d hit was just trying to make a living. She didn’t deserve to be slapped. “What happened?” Lewt finally asked.

“She crawled away.” Walter smiled. “A woman who doesn’t know her place is a stain on nature. I’m telling you, sir, that if I weren’t a gentleman I might have kicked her to help her along the way.”

Lewt watched Walter as he talked on about his philosophy, but Lewt had already made up his mind. If he had to tie Walter Freeport up in dirty sheets, this man would not be on the train at dawn. He didn’t even know Duncan’s cousins, but they deserved better than the likes of this man.

As the evening passed, Lewt wasn’t sure when the idea crystallized into a plan, but he decided maybe he should take Walter’s place. At first he thought it might be a grand joke on his friend Duncan, then he thought it could probably be a great chance to see what a real working ranch was like and to see how a real loving family acted. It might be worth the trip to see what he’d missed out on. Lewt guessed, like everything else in life, family ties weren’t all they were cracked up to be. He could be nice and polite to the ladies. At least they wouldn’t feel like they’d been stood up. When Duncan got back, Lewt would explain everything.

His mind made up, Lewt turned to Walter Freeport the Fourth. “Any chance you play cards?”

Walter strutted. “I do, and I must warn you I’m quite good. What say you we pass the time with a friendly game?”

Lewt grinned. No matter what he put on the table, he knew he’d be playing to help the women of Whispering Mountain out and it felt good. They might never know, but he was saving them from a horrible fate.

Six hours later, a very different Lewton Paterson stepped on the northbound train. He was dressed in conservative black from head to toe with thin wire-rim glasses on his nose. Nothing remained from his former life except the double eagle gold piece in his pocket he always carried for luck and a knife slipped between the stitching of his belt. Everything else, from his fine leather suitcases to his watch, spoke of old money and breeding.

By the time Duncan McMurray got finished fighting at the Mexican border, Lewt would be on Whispering Mountain. If he did nothing else, he’d prove to Duncan that he could be a gentleman . . . someone worth introducing to the family.

Lewt could play the gentleman. He’d learned early that men like to play cards with a man they consider an equal. He’d spent months polishing his speech and learning which fork to use on a fancy table. Now, there’d be no bets on the table. This time, he was gambling with his future.

A hope began to form in his mind. If he could pass at Whispering Mountain, maybe he could take all the money he’d saved and buy a business. Maybe he could even marry and live a life in the daylight for a change.

Lewt pushed his dreaming down. Hope was a terrible thing. It would keep you warm now and then, but when it died the cold always came back more bitter than before.