“Can we have some pie now, Miss Ravena?” Mark asked, the expectation on his face mirroring that of the other boys.
“Not yet. We ought to let the rest of our lunch settle first.” Plus she wanted to draw out the Fourth of July festivities. That way they wouldn’t have to return too soon to the house, a house now devoid of Tex.
Mark frowned, then cheered when Jacob announced, “Let’s go play some ball.”
All seven boys scrambled to their feet and headed off to where a game of baseball had begun amongst some of the other children gathered for the celebration. Ravena smiled after them, but the merriment fell from her lips a moment later.
Try as she might she couldn’t enjoy the day. Her thoughts were on Tex, as they’d been since he’d left.
Was he in the town jail? With the holiday, she’d guessed they might not move him to the state penitentiary yet. But the not knowing weighed as heavily on her mind as his welfare did. Was he sweltering in a cell? Was he being fed?
“You’re thinking about Mr. Beckett, aren’t you?” Ginny’s soft voice nudged into her troubled reverie.
Ravena reached out and clasped the girl’s hand. “Yes, I am.”
“I miss him,” Fanny said, laying her head on Ravena’s lap. “Will he ever come back?”
“I hope so, Fanny.”
Blinking moisture from her eyes, she glanced around at the crowds of people, some seated on blankets as they were, others standing or wandering about. The entire town had turned out for the picnic, and the speeches and music would begin soon.
Her gaze stopped on a gentleman watching the baseball game. She didn’t think she’d seen him before at church or in town. And yet he seemed vaguely familiar. As Ravena watched, the man turned to his companion, giving her a clear view of his face.
She sucked in a sharp breath as remembrance flooded through her, along with sudden suspicion. This was the same man who’d questioned her about the Texas Titan at the train depot in Boise. But what in the world was he doing here?
The man stopped talking to his friend and returned his attention to the game, but after a moment, Ravena realized he was watching Jacob. Did he recognize the older boy as having been with her that day?
Alarm pulsed through her, making her shiver even in the hot sun. Something wasn’t right. How had the man come to be here, in the very town where she lived? In the very place Tex had been hiding? They hadn’t told the children about Tex’s past, or his real reason for leaving. If this man spoke to Jacob, the boy wouldn’t know to keep quiet about Tex.
Rising to her knees and dislodging Fanny, she began packing the picnic basket as quickly as her shaking hands would allow. “Ginny, would you please go get the boys? It’s time to go.”
“But what about the music?” Fanny said with a pout. “And the pie?”
“We’ll eat the pie at home. Now help me pack, please.”
Ginny obediently stood and headed toward the baseball game, while Fanny reluctantly helped gather up their things. Ravena had everything ready when the boys came trooping up, obvious disappointment on most of their expressions.
“Do we have to go?” Edmund asked.
She gave a decisive nod. “Yes. I’ll explain later.” Though what she’d say, she wasn’t sure. She only knew that she needed to leave before the man with the gray beard saw her. Or worse, began asking any of them questions.
To her relief, the children tagged along behind her as she walked to where she’d parked the wagon. She put her things in the back and climbed onto the seat.
As she clucked to the horses, she glanced back at the field to find the stranger from the depot staring right at her. “Let’s go,” she called to the team, desperate to pick up their pace, especially when the man and his companion began jogging toward them.
* * *
Tex lifted his head from staring at the stone floor of his cell as the jail door opened. A new arrival was a welcome diversion from the warm temperature and the lack of anything to do. Sheriff Clipton’s young deputy entered the building, a plate of pie in one hand and a piece of paper in the other.
“That my pie, Jenkins?” the sheriff asked. His hands were linked behind his head and his boots rested on his desk.
The deputy nodded as he set the plate on the desk’s edge. “Appears somebody’s been looking for you, Beckett.”
Confused, Tex stood up from the cot and crossed to the cell bars. “What do you mean?”
“The man claims he’s a bounty hunter. He gave me this.” The deputy lifted the paper in the air. It was a Wanted poster. Not surprisingly Tex’s own face stared back at him. “Asked me if I’d seen you.”
The sheriff had started in on the pie. “What’d you say?” It was the same question burning in Tex’s mind at that moment. Especially given that he hadn’t expected anyone to be looking for him way out here.
Jenkins shrugged. “Said I might have seen the man in question. Something struck me as odd about this fellow. He wouldn’t look me in the eye or agree to come back here to talk to you, sheriff, about his search.” He studied the poster in his hand, then glanced back up at Tex. “I acted like I was done talking to him, but I kept my eye on him.”
“Good thinking, Jenkins,” the sheriff said around a mouthful of dessert.
“He wandered around for a bit, but then he seemed real interested in Miss Reid.”
Tex felt his heart constrict at the mention of Ravena. He’d thought of little else the past two days. He’d already confessed to Sheriff Clipton and Jenkins that he’d been staying with her and that they were lifelong friends—though he had emphasized that she’d had no idea about his career as an outlaw when she’d taken him in. “How do you know he was interested in her?”
Jenkins frowned. “She and them kids left in a real hurry, but he saw them leave and took off mighty quick after them. I trailed the group long enough to see them follow her to her farm.”
Dread had Tex gripping the bars tightly in his hands. Jenkins was right. This man didn’t sound like any bounty hunter he’d heard of. “Did he give you his name?”
The deputy shook his head as he set the poster on the sheriff’s desk. “Nope, that was another funny thing about him. But he was a real barrel of a man with a gray beard.”
Quincy! Tex’s stomach bottomed out at the realization. The man had tracked him down after all. “He’s not a bounty hunter—he’s a wanted cattle rustler with a grudge against me. He’s after the map you found in my saddlebag.”
Would Ravena and the children be safe? He hoped with him gone from the farm that they would be, but he couldn’t be certain. Not without seeing for himself.
The sheriff slid his empty plate forward and twisted in his seat to face Tex. “You sure he’s the same man?”
“Positive,” Tex ground out, his fear pounding as hard as his heartbeat. “Which means you gotta let me out. Those are dangerous men who followed Miss Reid to her farm.”
Clipton raised an eyebrow. “Now hold up there, Beckett. This poster says you’re a dangerous man too.” He motioned to the paper. “And I still haven’t figured out what to do with ya.”
“Let me go to see if she’s all right, and I promise if I make a run for it, you can shoot me and ask questions later.”
Jenkins threw the sheriff a questioning look. “I could go check things out.”
“You’ll scare ’em off,” Tex protested. “That is, if you’re not shot first.”
The sheriff got to his feet, looking annoyed. “I suppose you’ve got a point there.”
“If you let me go, I can lure them out into the open.” Tex kept his expression neutral, contemplative, hoping to hide his desperation to convince the man to go along with his plan. Protecting Ravena and the children was the only thing that mattered to him right now. “Then you’ll have five wanted men instead of just one.”
Rubbing his smooth chin, Clipton blew out a breath. “All right. We’ll go as soon as Jenkins can wrest up a posse. Folks aren’t gonna like their festivities interrupted though.”
Tex released a breath of momentary relief, knowing he wouldn’t rest easy until Quincy was apprehended and behind bars too. “Am I coming?”
“Of course.” The sheriff grinned. “Like you suggested, we’re gonna use you as bait.”
* * *
Worry clogged Ravena’s throat. She hadn’t out-smarted the gray-bearded stranger after all. Instead he and his three companions had followed her to the farm. Whispering to the children to stay seated, she parked the wagon beside the new house. The men rode into the yard right behind them and stopped their horses.
“Howdy, ma’am,” the stranger said, tipping his hat to her as if paying a social call.
She inclined her head in a grim nod. “Can I help you?”
“Well, that all depends.” He swung out of his saddle and approached her. Lifting his hand to help her from the seat, he said, “We’re here to see a man I believe you know.”
Ignoring his offered hand, Ravena slipped past Jacob and climbed off the wagon on the opposite side before circling the horses. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” She feared telling them Tex wasn’t here, that it was only her and a passel of children. Especially when she wasn’t within easy reach of her grandfather’s rifle.
The man folded his arms and threw her a patronizing look. “You can’t pretend we haven’t met before. At the train station in Boise. We both had an interest in a certain Wanted poster.” He flicked a hand at one of the men who held up a copy of the poster.
“Who’s that?” Mark piped up, making Ravena cringe. She tried sending him and the others a warning look to keep silent, but it was futile. They were all staring at the poster.
“This here,” the man waved at the familiar face, “is none other than the notorious outlaw known as the Texas Titan.”
Luke frowned. “How come he looks like Mr. Beckett, Miss Ravena?”
“That is rather interesting, isn’t it?” She marched forward, feigning confidence she didn’t feel. “Now, come along, children. Bid these men good day.”
The stranger lumbered in front of her, blocking her way with a hand on the side of the wagon. “Let’s not get hasty, Miss Ravena,” he sneered. “I reckon our old friend is here after all. And we just want to talk to him.”
“You’re Quincy,” she stated with sudden realization. The man whose map Tex had won, the man who’d haunted his dreams when he’d been sick.
Quincy’s eyebrows shot up, then dropped low with suspicion. “How come she knows you, boss?” one fellow drawled before chuckling.
“Shut up, Lester,” Quincy bit out. He didn’t bother masking his annoyance from her this time as he leaned close and demanded, “Where is he?”
Ravena straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin in a show of bravado. “He isn’t here.”
Quincy eyed her and smiled slyly. “Now why is it that I don’t believe you?”
“You’re welcome to search the place. But he really isn’t here.”
His hand latched onto her arm with a steely grip. “Where did he go?”
“Leave her alone,” Jacob said, standing, his voice firm. “She’s telling the truth. Mr. Beckett isn’t here.”
“Get those kids into the house,” Quincy barked to his men. They swung off their horses and menacingly approached the wagon as they drew their guns. Fanny screamed and shrank back against the seat, but her brother quickly sat to console her.
“It’s all right, children.” Ravena tried to catch each of their gazes. “Go on into the house now.” She licked her dry lips. “We’ll be fine.”
To her great relief, none of them argued with her. All nine orphans climbed out of the wagon and trudged into the house. Quincy’s men trailed them to the door before taking up positions on opposite sides of the porch.
“Where is he?” Quincy squeezed her arm hard.
She wouldn’t tell him that Tex was in the jail out of fear that he and his men would ambush the place to get to Tex. “He left.”
He studied her long enough that she began to squirm. “By the look of things, I’d say there’s a real good chance he’s comin’ back.” She knew he meant Tex would be coming back for her, but she held her tongue.
“Search the place anyway,” he ordered. Then wrenching her forward, he dragged her onto the porch and plunked her into the rocker Tex had moved over to the new house before leaving. “Keep an eye on her, Lester.”
The other man threw her a grin, making Ravena’s skin crawl. “Right, boss.”
She watched as the other three men split up. One went into the house, where she hoped Jacob and Edmund were watching over the younger children. Quincy and his other partner moved toward the barn. She sat perfectly still and tried to ignore the barrel of Lester’s gun pointed at her. Once they didn’t find Tex, they would surely leave.
What felt like hours later, the men congregated back on the porch.
“Find any trace of him or the map?” Quincy asked.
Murmurs of no came from the other three. “I did find a gun, though,” the one who’d gone inside the new house said, lifting her grandfather’s rifle into the air. Ravena felt like weeping. How was she supposed to protect herself and the children now?
Please, help us, Lord.
Instead of commending the man on his find, Quincy let his fist fly at the porch column. “Blast it. He’s split for now. But he’ll be back. I can feel it.” Turning his shrewd gaze on Ravena, he grabbed her arm once more and steered her toward the door. “You and those young’uns aren’t to leave this house, you hear? My men will be posted at the front and back.”
She swallowed past the lump of fear in her throat. These men weren’t leaving after all. Maybe by sundown when Tex failed to appear, they would go. “We’ll stay inside,” she managed to say.
“Good.” He released her. “We certainly wouldn’t want anything unfortunate to happen.”
Ravena hurried inside, desperate to see how the children fared. Her gaze went straight to the parlor where all nine orphans sat, some on the floor, others on the sofa and chairs. Fanny was silently crying and Ralphey looked on the verge of dissolving into tears himself.
“Shh. It’s okay.” She hurried toward them and sank to the rug. Like chicks to a hen, they gathered around her. “I know this is all very, very frightening. But it’s going to be all right. I’ll explain everything later.” Somehow, some way, they’d be safe. Because if there ever was a time she needed to know the truthfulness of her grandfather’s words—the Lord has got this in His hands, Ravena. He’s got you—it was now.
* * *
The late afternoon sun cast Tex’s shadow on the road as he neared Ravena’s farm. It had taken Jenkins hours to gather a posse. The wait had been excruciating for Tex as he sat in his cell, imagining all sorts of horrid scenarios. Quincy could be ruthless when crossed, and if he didn’t find Tex at the farm, he was likely to become enraged.
And if anything happened to Ravena or the children, Tex wasn’t sure he could forgive himself this time.
Is this my punishment? he wondered as he lowered his head. For all my wrong choices?
The question hadn’t fully finished forming in his mind before he felt a quiet confidence stirring inside him. He’d done what he could, to start making things right, by turning himself in. What happened now was in the Lord’s hands.
The buildings and yard came into view, but he was surprised to see Ravena’s wagon and horses sitting out front as if she’d only just arrived home and hadn’t yet put them away. Concern fizzled in his gut. Ravena and the children would’ve returned from the picnic some time ago. Were they all right? Were they inside?
On the porch of the new house, Lester sat in the rocker, his eyes shut and his gun across his lap. Another man stood in front of the old house. It looked like Ravena’s rifle sat next to him. Neither Quincy nor the fourth man was visible.
Offering yet another prayer for protection—for the posse, for Ravena and the children, and for himself—Tex worked his face into a scowl and strode toward the center of the yard. “Quincy,” he hollered. “I need a word with you.”