The Texas Ranger's Daughter Page 20

  It took another moment for Laurie to whirl and run back the way she had come, her skirts flying out behind her, leaving him time to contemplate a life without her.

  Laurie was too good for him. Always was, always would be.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Laurie pressed a hand over her aching heart as she staggered back toward the hotel. How was it still beating? she wondered.

  Paloma found her first, just after she reached the porch of the hotel.

  “Your parents are out searching for you. They left me in case you came home.”

  Laurie’s vision blurred. Her head pounded. She allowed Paloma to steer her through the lobby and up the stairs; all the while the sound of a locomotive roared in her head.

  “Do you hear that?” she shouted, holding her hands to her ears, but the sound just got louder. Laurie looked at Paloma’s troubled expression and the edges of her vision darkened until she could see only a small circle of twinkling light. Her stomach pitched and she felt herself falling. She could do nothing but surrender to the darkness.

  She woke in her mother’s room, the quilt tucked under her chin and her mother sitting guard beside her bed. Laurie blinked.

  “He’s gone,” she whispered. “He left me. He’s gone.”

  Her mother nodded and Laurie closed her eyes again, unwilling to face the ripping heartache that tore her insides out.

  “I thought if I told him. I thought…” What? That if she was in love with him that he would magically want to stay? Laurie squeezed her eyes shut at the understanding that he had done exactly what he had told her he would do from the start, that he had no intention of settling down.

  “Laurie, mi hija?” Her mother sounded far away.

  The smelling salts brought her back around. She lay in the same bed, but the doctor was there.

  “Here she is, back again. You’re giving your parents quite a scare.”

  Laurie did not speak, but just looked out the window, wishing she could fly after Boon like a sparrow.

  At the other side of the room, the three conversed in low tones. Is it normal? Great shock. A result of recent happenings. Time and rest, quiet. Their words melted together and she closed her eyes to sleep. Anything to escape the hollowness that yawned inside her.

  Over the next few weeks Laurie slept much, ate little and worried her parents greatly. She had no energy, she had no appetite and she could not seem to do more than sit and stare.

  Her mother tried to coax her with her favorite foods, visitors, consultations with the doctor. Walks were suggested, so every day Laurie was walked up the street and down. While she moved, her body felt as if it were packed in cotton, insulated and apart from everything around her.

  In the second month since her return, her parents announced that they planned to remarry.

  Laurie smiled at the irony. At one time, their reunion was all she ever wanted. Her certainty that their separation had been the only obstacle between her and happiness had been absolute. How naive she had been. She was unwed because she could not see herself as a worthy wife. Now she just felt sad.

  Laurie’s mother filled her daughter’s day with endless projects, certain that routine would restore her to her former self. But she was wrong. Her former self was gone forever, dead and buried. But still, here she sat flipping through a copy of Peterson’s Ladies National Magazine for an idea for a suitable dress to wear to her parents’ second wedding when she stumbled upon a riding outfit that included a pair of voluminous pantaloons designed to cover a woman’s legs when she rode astride. It was the newest fashion, popular among lady equestrians and women of the West, said one of the fashion articles. The garment was actually a skirt, sewn with a split up the middle. When standing or walking, a woman appeared to be wearing a proper skirt and it was only when she mounted a horse that one could see the nonconformity.

  Laurie’s mother noticed her interest and peered at the page.

  “They’re fairly scandalous,” she said.

  “I’m going to make them,” said Laurie.

  Her mother indulged her, possibly because it had been a long time since Laurie had showed an interest in anything.

  Laurie had a pair fashioned out of sturdy denim by the next evening and tried them on the following day. Riding out and away from town gave her the first pleasure she’d experienced since Boon’s departure. Her father accompanied her, making her nostalgic.

  When Arlene Juliet approached her later that same week, Laurie expected it was to give her a good talking-to, but instead, the wife of the general store owner wanted to see about purchasing the garment for herself and also commission several pairs for the store.

  Her mother disapproved of her daughter working like a servant, but Captain Bender overruled her. Had he listened when she said she would be a proper lady no more? Was he actually helping her?

  Over the next month Laurie discarded her corset and bustle. She went riding with her father, taking a rifle along and proving to still be a very good shot. She sewed in the evening, creating the pantaloons and later a split-back canvas duster, similar to the ones the men wore when riding, but fitted to a woman’s form and including a hood that could be tied beneath the chin like a bonnet. These, too, proved popular and Laurie had to hire help to keep up with demand.

  In the third month, suitors began to arrive. It was as if she had turned on a tap, and suddenly a flood of men descended on her, all eager to convince her to be their wife. She suspected her head for business had much to do with it.

  Her mother said it came from her new confidence that somehow showed past her rather unladylike behavior. Men seemed to be drawn to her newfound self-assurance.

  Laurie recognized that she now had everything she had once thought she ever wanted, and knowing that made her miserable.

  Laurie turned the men away one by one, adding to her mother and father’s dismay.

  Her parents’ wedding was small but lovely. Laurie wore her pink gingham dress, having been too busy with work to make anything else. It was the first time she had worn a corset since her nervous collapse. At the reception, Laurie tried to pretend she was happy, but she feared she did not fool them.

  After the wedding supper and before the newly reunited couple departed on their honeymoon to Galveston, her parents drew her aside.

  At first, she feared they would not leave, as both were concerned by the changes in her. But she was fine—healthy and, if she was not happy, she was at least content.

  Her mother had tried and failed to encourage her to accept any of the suitors who had taken a fancy to her. Her father had also tried to talk some sense into her. Neither could accept that she did not wish to marry. Not any longer, not when she knew what it was to feel passion. Boon’s leaving had cut her deep. Her parents thought she just needed time. Laurie knew otherwise. There wasn’t another man in the world who could take Boon’s place in her heart.

  “Laurie, mi hija,” began her mother. “We have some news.”

  The worry in her mother’s eyes brought her to alertness. Her father’s grim expression heightened her worry.

  “We mentioned that we will be moving to Lubbock, to be closer to your father’s latest assignment.”

  Laurie nodded.

  “We will be going upon our return from Galveston.”

  “I’ll be staying here,” said Laurie.

  Her mother gasped. “But, Laurie, you’re still welcome in our home. You know that.”

  “I do. But I want my own home.”

  Her father shook his head. “A woman shouldn’t live alone.”

  “But I will, just the same.”

  The two of them exchanged a look. Since their reunion, they were very good at this silent exchange.

  She saw her parents to their train and waved them goodbye. Afterward she returned to the hotel and packed her belongings, moving into the room Boon had vacated at Mrs. Sheffield’s boardinghouse. Before her parents returned from their second honeymoon she had made enough money to buy her own s
ewing machine.

  They tried and failed to convince, cajole or browbeat her into accompanying them to Lubbock. She liked her independence too much to ever give it up to live under her parents’ roof again.

  She wrote them and she worked. On Saturdays she rented a horse, went riding and practiced her shooting. Gene Freeman from the mercantile tried to accompany her but she sent him off. She turned down invitations from several other men and also the invitations from women to have tea or join various ladies’ organizations.

  Her parents invited her for Christmas. She declined, and so they came to her. She joined them for dinner at the Cactus Flower Hotel, but resisted yet another attempt to have her return with them. She asked after Paloma and was told she was still in Lubbock.

  Her mother’s efforts to engage Laurie in conversation were painful, but Laurie answered their questions honestly.

  “Is there someone here?” asked her mother. “Someone special?”

  Laurie almost laughed. There was only one someone special and they had chased him off. No, that wasn’t true. She had told Boon how she felt and he had still left her, just as he had foretold. Why was it, after all this time, that just the thought of him made her heart ache as if pressed through a wringer? She hadn’t forgotten him, couldn’t forget. The anger at his leaving her had gone, but the sadness clung like tar. If she knew where he was, she’d go after him in a minute.

  “Are you still pining for that boy?” asked her mother.

  Laurie’s heart quickened and she glanced away.

  “Have you heard from him?” her mother asked.

  Laurie fixed her attention on her mother. “No. Have you?”

  “Laurie, dear, well, we’d thought that after some time had passed you’d come to your senses and that your feelings for him would diminished somewhat. Have they?” Her mother held her brows raised in a hopeful expression.

  This time she did not avoid her mother’s gaze, but stared directly. “I love him.”

  Her mother sighed and then turned to her husband. “Tell her.”

  Her father’s mouth turned grim. “Give her time.”

  “No. Enough. She’s sad. She’s thin. So tell her, please.”

  They knew. Somehow they knew where to find him. Laurie clutched the lapel of her father’s new coat.

  “Is he all right?”

  Her mother nodded and Laurie felt the sweet rush of air into her lungs, sweeping in with the relief. Laurie released her father and closed her eyes, offering up a prayer of thanks. He was alive.

  “What happened to him?” she asked, feeling the first true welling of emotion since she fell into a faint after Boon’s departure.

  “I offered him a Ranger’s badge, but he turned me down.”

  “Turned you down? I don’t understand. Boon wanted desperately to be a Ranger.”

  “He said he didn’t take orders well and he was heading to the Dakotas.”

  Laurie’s eyes widened. The Black Hills were notorious for hostile Indians and boomtowns. The lawlessness of that territory was common knowledge. Could she find him there?

  “Where in the Dakotas?”

  Her mother and father flashed another meaningful look between them. Her mother nodded and her father spoke.

  “He’s in Colorado.”

  “But you said…”

  “He lied to me or he changed his mind. Might be he didn’t want you tracking him. In any case, I ran him down. He is the new sheriff of a mining town in the Rockies.”

  Laurie’s eyes brightened.

  “Where?” she whispered half-afraid to hear, fearful of the hope that welled inside her.

  “Now, Laurie, I don’t know much else. He might be…” Her father didn’t finish because she repeated her question. “Town’s called Silver Cliff and it’s wild as Northwest Texas.”

  “I’m going.” She turned but her mother stepped before her.

  “Why don’t we just wire him and let him know you’re still available?”

  Laurie shook her head. “I’m going, just as soon as I can pack.”

  Her mother gave her husband a beseeching look.

  “I’ll bring you myself,” said the captain. “I just need to wire Coats.”

  Laurie would have none of it. The following day she was on a train heading west.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Boon walked along the main street of Silver Cliff, past the sea of unfamiliar faces. More arrived each day from the railhead and by mule team, drawn to the grayish mud that turned out to be 75 percent silver ore.

  Six thousand by last count and he’d already had to hire five deputies. He passed a lady with dark hair and smiled, tipping his hat.

  “Morning, Sheriff,” she said.

  He liked to be called sheriff. He found deep satisfaction in protecting these people, in providing the kind of order absent from the early part of his life.

  But there was a hole in his heart. He’d gotten himself a reputation for avoiding the women in the red-light district and giving more than one of them train fare home. When he began avoiding the respectable women’s tentative approach, he became a puzzle. Rumors included that he was married already and that a bullet wound had rendered him incapable. That last one made him laugh. He was physically capable, but he just couldn’t get past the dark-haired gal who hailed from Texas. Had she moved on without him? Did she have a banker for a husband? It hurt him to think on her, but his mind just kept running along the same old track.

  He wanted her happy, didn’t he? Wasn’t that why he left? Still, he was one step closer to respectability. He’d never be her match, never be a banker or a preacher. But he was learning his letters, thanks to the help of Mr. Eli Evans, the headmaster of the school. Boon imagined being able to write well enough to send Laurie a letter, ask her how she was faring and if she now had everything she wanted. But the daydream always ended with her not writing back or telling him she was married and expecting a child. It kept him from writing, that and the fact that his lettering still looked as wobbly as a sick chicken.

  But he’d found a job as a lawman on his own. He’d not used the reference that Bender had offered him. It wasn’t a Ranger, but he had camaraderie with his deputies and it looked like he might even get reelected.

  “Justice?”

  Boon turned to find Sam Gardner, one of the town council, heading toward him. When he’d arrived and applied for the position as deputy they’d asked his name and then his Christian name and he’d said, “Just is Boon,” and somehow that had become Justice Boon. The name stuck and he’d come to accept it.

  He even got used to attending church on Sundays. The singing was nice, though he could do without the lecture.

  Gardner was telling him that council had approved the cost of patrols to accompany the ore from the mine to the railhead, when Boon noticed a dark-headed woman and turned to stare. He always noticed the ones with black hair, couldn’t help himself. He kept looking for Laurie in every face, even when he knew he was a fool for doing so.

  This woman was medium height like Laurie and her hair color was right, though her hair was done up in a bun at her nape, instead of flying about her shoulders as he recalled her. She wore a wide hat, but not the fancy ladies’ sort. This was more sombrero than bonnet, practical, and reminded him of the hats the cowpunchers wore in Texas. He’d never seen a woman wear such a covering. His brow quirked as he noted the canvas duster she wore over her dress. It was fitted in the bodice and trimmed with black ribbon so it almost looked like a military jacket.

  He’d seen similar ones worn by ladies traveling on the Wells Fargo to keep the dust from ruining their clothing. Her hat kept him from seeing her face, but his heart gave a jump and would not listen to the reason of his mind. What would she be doing here in Colorado? Garner noticed his inattention and turned to stare.

  “You know her?” asked the councilman.

  Boon was about to shake his head no because he did not recognize the confident stride of this woman or the straight, upright p
osture of a female at ease with her surroundings. This was unusual by any standards. He was intrigued. Who was she?

  She was heading right for them.

  “Fine-looking woman,” said Gardner.

  Boon felt the jolt of recognition and his heart set off like a bird released from its cage a moment before remembering that it couldn’t be Laurie. Not here.

  Likely the woman had spotted his badge, displayed upon his vest, because she needed the sheriff.

  Still his feet were in motion. He could see her smile now, but not her eyes. He jogged the final twenty feet and found himself standing in the road before a covered walkway. She lifted her chin and revealed her dark flashing eyes.

  “Laurie?” he whispered, not believing what he saw, not willing to hope that she was really here.

  Her eyes glittered and her smile was bright, but her chin trembled.

  “What are you doing here?” He reached, but remembered that she was not his and let his hands drop to his sides.

  Her voice was sweet and familiar. “I came to see you.”

  He stared in bewilderment.

  “Me?” he asked.

  The first flicker of unease showed on her face. “I’ve missed you, Boon.”

  He glanced about. “Where is your family?”

  Surely she hadn’t come all this way alone.

  “I left them back in Texas. I’ve been living on my own for several months now.”

  He stepped up beside her and offered her his elbow. She took it, looping her arm in his, and he led her…where, he’d didn’t know, but he’d be damned if he’d let the gawkers listen to this conversation. They strolled along as if old friends, when in fact he felt nervous and hopeful all at once. He actually felt sick to his stomach with the hope and worry spilling about inside him.

  “I see you’re sheriff.” She paused and turned before him.

  They’d reached the end of the walkway and would have to descend to the street, which was dusty and sprinkled with manure.

  “Yup, been so for several months.” Was she married? Engaged? He wanted to ask, but instead he just stood there staring, wishing, dying.