Five
“Mail just came,” Cimarron murmured as she entered the dining room three mornings later, reading a note.
Her husband looked up from his plate of eggs and enchiladas. He was grinning because Juanita was back in the kitchen. “Who’s the letter from?”
Cimarron sighed as she sat down and signaled one of the Mexican maids to pour her some coffee. “Cayenne says Lynnie’s got to go up before the local school board. She may lose her job.”
“Poor little thing.” Trace paused with his fork halfway to his mouth. “Well, can’t say I’m surprised after the trouble our delinquent son got her into at the ball.”
“I know Lynnie better than you do.” Cimarron sipped her coffee thoughtfully, still reading the letter. “Some of that was bound to be her fault.”
“How can you say that?” Trace looked aghast. “Why, that innocent little schoolteacher—”
“I just know Lynnie. She and Ace are pretty well matched when it comes to getting into trouble. Cayenne wants us to attend the school board meeting as a sign of solidarity”
“Sí,” Trace nodded and sipped his coffee. “Although we may not be able to do anything to help. Being thrown into jail is a serious charge for a teacher, and hard to justify.”
The Mexican maid set a plate of scrambled eggs, bacon, and biscuits in front of Cimarron. She reached for the tart wild-plum jelly. “Hmm, if Lynnie loses her job, I don’t know what she’ll do. What she needs is a husband.”
Trace threw back his head and laughed. “Dios! Who would marry Lynnie McBride? She’s very sweet, but not a great beauty.”
Cimarron said, “She’ll be pretty to the man who loves her. But most men will see her as headstrong and stubborn.”
“You can say that again,” Ace sneered with disgust as he entered the dining room and took a chair. “I wouldn’t care if I ever saw that little wench again after all the trouble she got me into.”
“You’re pretty good at getting into trouble all by yourself,” his father said pointedly.
“Which is the very reason I don’t need Lynnie around to make more.” Ace signaled the maid, and she went into the kitchen and returned with a plate of steak and eggs.
Cimarron sighed and sipped her coffee. “There must be some nice young man who’d marry Lynnie.”
“Don’t bet on it.” Ace grinned and cut up his steak. It was well done and crisp around the edges, just the way he liked it.
His mother ignored him. “Lynnie’s smart, and she’s not half bad-looking. She’d give a man fine sons . . .”
“I want sons someday, Ma,” Ace shuddered, “but not enough to sleep with Lynnie McBride.”
“Don’t be crude,” his mother scolded.
Her husband laughed. “Now, there’d be bloodlines for you: by the stallion, Ace Durango, out of the mare, Lynnie McBride. Reckon the colt would be dark or have a red mane?”
“Be serious!” Cimarron snapped. There was a moment of silence as everyone enjoyed the good food and strong coffee.
“You know what I could do?” she mused, half to herself, as she looked out the window. “I could throw a big barbecue and invite everyone in two counties—and, of course, Lynnie. There’s bound to be someone in two big counties who might marry her.”
Ace groaned. “Don’t bet on it. Besides, it ain’t fair to ambush poor, unsuspecting hombres like that.”
His father shrugged. “Women do things like that all the time, son. They spend their whole lives trying to rope and tie men up.”
“I beg your pardon.” Cimarron bristled.
“Everyone except you, darlin’,” Trace hastened to add. “I was really lucky to get you.”
“Then, it’s settled,” Cimarron said as she laid the letter aside and smiled with satisfaction. “I’ll have to talk to Cayenne about it.”
Ace paused with his fork halfway to his mouth and looked at his father. Dad raised his eyebrows and shrugged.
“What’s settled?” The two men looked at her blankly.
She looked annoyed. “Why, what we just agreed on about having a big barbecue and inviting most of both counties so Lynnie can meet an eligible man.”
Somehow, Ace didn’t like the look of this. “Did we agree to that?”
His father laughed. “I reckon your mother’s made up her mind, so it’ll happen whether we agree or not.”
If it involved Lynnie McBride, Ace didn’t want anything to do with it. “I think I’ll plan to be gone,” Ace grumbled.
“No, you won’t, son,” his mother scolded. “Besides, I’ll invite a lot of other young girls.”
Ace grinned.
“Not that kind,” his father said. “Ladies.”
“Oh.” Disappointed, he returned to his steak.
“In the meantime, we’ll go to the school board meeting and see if we can save her job.”
Ace frowned. “I don’t want to do anything to help Lynnie McBride.”
Both his parents looked at him.
“We are going to the school board meeting,” Dad said, and glared at him. “You got the poor girl in a lot of trouble, and it’s your responsibility to help get her out.”
“Me?” Ace started to protest, decided he was up against a stacked deck and couldn’t win. It would only mean more stables to clean. He imagined piling the manure on top of Lynnie’s fiery head. Lordy, she was a pain in the butt.
“March,” Cimarron murmured, and smiled as she left the breakfast table to pack a few things for the trip to west Texas. March. Yes, that would be a great time to hold a big barbecue and fiesta. Spring would be coming to the Texas hill country by March, splashing the low hills with a riot of bluebonnets and red Indian paintbrush flowers. She knew her sister-in-law, Cayenne, would be pleased. And it would give the men a chance to all get together and discuss this cattle drive Trace had been talking about organizing. Better than that, it might give Lynnie a chance to meet eligible men.
Less than a week later, the special school board meeting had been called in the west Texas town of McBride. Cayenne had just produced her new baby girl, and the elderly patriarch of the clan, Papa Joe, wasn’t feeling too well, so Maverick and some of the many children accompanied Lynnie to the meeting, along with the Durango clan from the Triple D ranch.
Lynnie pointedly ignored Ace as they met just outside the little one-room schoolhouse, and he seemed to be pretending he hadn’t seen her at all. That suited her just fine. Why, she never would have been caught dead in the company of a rowdy like Ace if she hadn’t needed an escort to that ball.
Lynnie’s black eye was still a little green around the edges the night she walked into that meeting. Word must have gotten around that Miss McBride’s job was on the line, and there was a big crowd that night in late February. An assortment of McBride and Durango children were sitting on the front row next to Lynnie when the president of the school board, young banker Ogle, rapped his gavel and shouted: “Order! Order! Let’s get this hearing started!”
Lynnie watched all the pompous locals file in and sit down. Frankly, now she was a little scared, yet still defiant over the stir her trip to the state capital had caused. She hadn’t realized the news would travel far enough to end up on the front page of the McBride, Texas, weekly paper, but then, the owner of the paper was still angry that the Lazy M had succeeded in buying some land the paper’s owner, Clifford Schwatz, had wanted for himself.
Some of these people, the Billingses, and some of the others felt obliged to Maverick Durango and the McBride clan for saving the town during the attempted bank and stage holdup eleven years ago. Unfortunately, young banker Ogle controlled many of the others because they owed him money.
The schoolhouse was small and crowded. With not much else to do on a cold winter night, many had attended for the entertainment value of the event.
Young Ogle stood up, smiled expansively, and looked up and down the table next to him to make sure all the school board members were there. He thought of himself as somewhat of a dandy, Lynnie knew, but he was balding and pompous. He had tried to court Lynnie, but she would have none of him, and the whole town knew it.
Elmer Ogle cleared his throat importantly. “You all know we have serious business to conduct here tonight, but first, I want to invite you all to the unveiling of the statue of my father in the town square next Saturday. I was honored that a majority of the citizens thought he should be remembered for his heroism in the great stage robbery.”
Lynnie’s little sister, Angel, piped up. “He wasn’t no hero. Everybody in town knows Maverick saved the town that day and your pa got hisself shot accidentally by walking out in the middle of the gunfight.”
“Angel, hush!” Maverick whispered while everyone tittered at the truth of the child’s words.
Automatically, Lynnie said, “Angel, it’s not correct to say ‘hisself.’ The proper word is himself. And don’t use double negatives.”
The whole audience laughed again while Elmer sputtered and turned red. “Some people can’t control their children,” he said, “which is why we’re here tonight....”
“I beg to differ.” Lynnie stood up, although her whole family was shaking their heads at her. “The fracas at the governor’s mansion had nothing to do with my family.”
She saw Trace nudge Ace, who stood up very grudgingly. “I—I was responsible for the mess Miss McBride got into.”
“I beg your pardon!” Lynnie fired back. She was not about to let that big brute take the role of heroic rescuer. “I planned it all by myself.”
An excited buzz ran through the crowded room, and she shot Ace a triumphant glare. He opened his mouth as if to speak, hesitated, and sat back down.
School board member Winifred Leane stood up and peered at her over her spectacles. “Lynnie McBride, is it true someone gave you a black eye?”
“Nobody gave me anything,” Lynnie fired back. “I earned this shiner.”
The room burst into tittering and whispers. Her brother-in-law shook his head at her, but Lynnie didn’t care. She figured banker Ogle had enough power in this town to force the other members of the school board to fire her, and she intended to say her piece.
Mr. Schwatz glared at her. “Is it true you created a riot, along with that terrible Durango ruffian, at the governor’s mansion?”
She gritted her teeth. “I did no such thing. I merely wore a banner proclaiming women’s right to vote.”
“That’s ungodly!” Mrs. Huffington, a very plump member of the school board, interrupted her. “It says in the Bible women shouldn’t vote, and that’s good enough for me!”
A series of murmuring and amens followed.
Lynnie was unruffled. “There’s a Bible up there on the desk, Mrs. Huffington. Please point out the chapter and verse that says that.”
Mrs. Huffington looked about uncertainly. “I—I’m sure it’s in there somewhere.”
“Enough!” Maverick thundered as he stood up. “Miss McBride is a jim-dandy teacher. I see all her students are here to speak for her.”
“That’s right!” yelled little Susan Leane.
“She’s a good teacher,” Billy Huffington said, “no matter what my ma says!”
More noise and confusion while banker Ogle rapped for order.
But Maverick didn’t sit down. “May I remind this board that my father-in-law and I own the biggest ranch in this county, the Lazy M, and my wife and I provide a great many of the students?”
The audience tittered.
“We are well aware of the size of your brood,” Mrs. Huffington said coldly.
The crowd laughed, and Elmer Ogle rapped again. “Let’s get back to the subject at hand: the firing of one Miss Lynnie McBride for questionable behavior and moral decay.”
“Moral decay?” Mrs. Leane whispered.
“Getting arrested,” the newspaper editor explained.
“No!” yelled a bunch of children from the sidelines. “We love Miss McBride; she’s a great teacher!”
Penelope Dinwiddy stood up. “She’s done a brave thing, giving voice to getting women the vote.”
Mr. Dinwiddy, a serious, balding man rose. “Please ignore my daughter,” the rancher said. “She idolizes Miss McBride. Frankly, our family doesn’t know what to think about all this. We like the teacher, but, gettin’ arrested—that’s purty bad.”
Squat, fat Nelbert Purdy, a member of the school board, shook his bald head. “Morally wrong, the McBride girl is. She doesn’t have the high morals of my sister, Emmalou.”
Emmalou, standing to one side, smiled generously at the audience, proud to be the epitome of virtue.
Banker Ogle rapped his gavel again. “Has the board heard enough?”
“Enough?” Lynnie protested, peering over the tops of her spectacles. “Why, I’ve hardly gotten started.”
Mrs. Huffington’s jowly face smiled. “You know, I have a nephew in Philadelphia, young Clarence Kleinhoffer, who is of the highest moral caliber and has just graduated from a teacher’s college. He might be persuaded to take the job.”
Nods and smiles of approval ran through the crowd.
Trace Durango stood up. “Miss McBride was led astray, I’m afraid.”
The newspaper editor favored Trace with a steely look. “We know your son’s reputation, sir. The women all say he’s somewhat of a scoundrel.”
Lynnie watched Cimarron stand up, her face red with anger. “Are you smearing the reputation of my son?”
“On the contrary,” Mrs. Leane said. “From what I hear, he’s been doing a pretty good job of ruining his own reputation. I certainly wouldn’t let one of my daughters go anywhere with him.”
Titters from the crowd.
“Mrs. Leane ...” Cimarron seemed to be fighting to control her anger. “I doubt my son would want to call on one of your homely daughters.”
“Why, I never!” Mrs. Leane’s fat mouth dropped open.
More titters from the crowd, turning into pandemonium again, with banker Ogle rapping in vain for silence. “We shall retire to discuss our verdict.”
The vote was a foregone conclusion because so many of the board members owed the banker money and there was old bad blood between the Ogle family and the McBrides.
The room fell silent, and Lynnie was abruptly a little scared. She hadn’t really thought about losing her job. However, if she must make that sacrifice for the good of the cause; so be it. She glared at Ace Durango, and he glared back. She had used him, and he was angry about it. Well, it served him right. No doubt he had used many an innocent girl for his own ends.
In less than five minutes, the board filed back in, and Elmer Ogle rapped for silence. “The board has made its decision. Miss McBride, having behaved in a manner that is unacceptable for a person of her responsibilities, is terminated as of this evening. We are going to offer the job of schoolmaster to Clarence Kleinhoffer; a fine, upstanding pillar of virtue.”
“You can’t fire me; I quit!” Lynnie stood up and began to wave her arms. “Free women! Votes for Texas women!”
All the children took up her chant, to the dismay of the school board members. Banker Ogle rapped in vain for order. “The Durangos and the McBrides are a bunch of uncivilized—”
“You can’t talk about my family that way!” Maverick apparently lost his temper, strode to the front of the room, and hit Elmer Ogle in the nose. The young man was sobbing like a girl as men moved in to pull Maverick back.
“I’m bleeding!” Ogle sobbed. “Look, I’m bleeding!”
Lynnie climbed up on a school desk, waving the Texas flag she had just grabbed off its pole. “Votes for women!” she shouted. “Free Texas women!”
All the children began to shout: “Votes for women! Texans for women’s rights!”
“Now, just see,” Mrs. Leane shouted in horror, “just see how she has corrupted our children!”
“Oh, shut up!” Lynnie shouted back, “you pompous old windbag!”
Mrs. Leane collapsed in her chair with the other ladies clustered about, offering smelling salts. The whole room was in an uproar and getting worse by the minute.
“Lynnie!” Maverick yelled, “get off that desk!”
“Votes for women!” Lynnie shouted back, “Give women the vote! Remember the Alamo!”
It seemed to Ace that the Alamo had nothing to do with women’s right to vote, but as always, it brought a cheer from everyone in the room—even those who didn’t favor women voting.
At that point, Lynnie began to sing “The Yellow Rose of Texas” at the top of her lungs while waving her flag. The children took up the song as she stepped off the desk and led a grand march around the room.
“This is outrageous!” Elmer Ogle roared. “This is uncivilized. The woman has no shame!”
“Oh, shut up, you bloodsucking money grabber!” Lynnie yelled as she led her little parade outside to march around the schoolhouse. Then she stepped aside and watched her young disciples continue to march and sing. Frankly, she was a little scared but still defiant. Now that she’d lost her job, what was she going to do?
Her favorite student, tall and thin Penelope Dinwiddy, caught up with Lynnie outside in the bright moonlight. She was as serious as Lynnie herself. “Oh, Miss McBride, I’m so sorry,” she wailed. “You’re disgraced. What are you going to do now?”
Lynnie straightened her shoulders and watched the marching children with satisfaction. Her frustrated brother-in-law was attempting to pull the various members of his own clan out of the parade so they could go home. “Well, I reckon I can forget about asking the board to sponsor my trip to Dodge City.”
“Dodge City?” Penelope looked baffled.
“Don’t you remember? There’s a big Women’s Rights gathering up there for the Fourth of July. I had hoped to attend, cheer the ladies on, and maybe get some help for the downtrodden females in Texas.”
“Your folks wouldn’t let you go,” Penelope said as they walked out to the buggy.
“You’re right; I’ve already asked,” Lynnie sighed. “And Cayenne and Papa Joe aren’t going to be too happy over what happened here tonight. They don’t seem to understand that I feel it’s my calling to help get the vote for women.”
Penelope shook her head. “I thought, when I heard that the handsome Ace Durango was taking you to the ball, that you were about to settle down and get married. . . .”
“To Ace Durango?” Lynnie threw back her head and laughed. “Why, that pigheaded, woman-chasing, gambling fool—he’d be the last man an independent girl would want.”
“Lots of girls would have given their eye teeth to go to the ball with him,” Penelope pointed out.
“He is the most egotistical, arrogant, untamed rascal in Texas,” Lynnie said. “I couldn’t stay in the same room with him for five minutes without an argument. He thinks women are good for only one thing.”
The other girl rolled her eyes and giggled. “Lots of girls would like to find out what that one thing is with him.”
“Penny,” Lynnie said in a stern voice, “I doubt your conviction to our good cause.”
Penelope grabbed her arm. “I believe in women’s rights; I truly do, Miss McBride. It’s just that Ace Durango is so charming and every girl in Texas has set her cap for him.”
Lynnie turned away. “Well, that lets me out, anyway, doesn’t it? I haven’t got the looks to attract the brute, even if I were interested—which I’m not. Believe me, Penelope, I’m looking for a man who will appreciate me for my fine mind.”
“Right!” said Penelope, and turned to look at the crowd coming out of the schoolhouse. “As mad as your brother-in-law looks, you’d better forget about the Dodge City Women’s Rights meeting.”
“I suppose you’re right.” Lynnie chewed her lip. “I may have gone too far this time.”
“And Dodge City is a long way, Miss McBride.” Penelope was always the sensible one. “And even if there was a train there, which there ain’t—”
“Isn’t,” Lynnie corrected automatically. “Do you have any money, Penelope?”
“Me?” Penelope touched her chest. “No more than you do.”
“Well, I reckon that lets out buying a ticket on the stage, but I’m not giving up yet.”
Her friend grinned. “That’s what I like about you: you’re so stubborn and determined.”
“Still, it’s a pretty big challenge,” Lynnie admitted.
“Young lady,” Maverick yelled, “get in the buggy.”
She left her friend and walked over to the family group, who were talking. They all looked upset except Ace. That devil was suppressing a grin.
“Oh, shut up!” she snapped at Ace.
“I didn’t say anything,” he protested.
“But you were thinking it,” Lynnie said, and turned toward her out-of-town family by marriage. “I’m really sorry, Uncle Trace, that you and Aunt Cimarron came all this way for nothing.” She felt her lip quiver as the enormity of what she’d done swept over her. “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to create so much trouble. . . .”
“Lynnie,” Maverick said, “where you are, there is always trouble. I don’t know what your papa and sister are going to say.”
Lynnie sighed. “I have a pretty good idea.”
She saw Trace nudge his errant son sharply in the ribs.
“Uh, I’m sorry you lost your job, Lynnie,” Ace said.
She didn’t believe he was sorry at all; he was just sorry she had used him and gotten him into trouble.
“It’s all right; I’ll find something to do.”
Maverick lifted one child after another into the buggy. “Lynnie, I just don’t know what’s going to become of you—twenty years old, no husband, no prospects of one, no job, and now your reputation is ruined.”
Trace glanced at his son again, but Ace only glared at Lynnie. Evidently, he didn’t know how to deal with women who could start trouble on their own.
“I’ve already decided my future,” she said matter-of-factly as she leaned on the buggy wheel, “Up to now, I’ve been spending only a little time on the crusade for women’s rights, but now I can give it my full attention.”
Everyone groaned aloud, but she ignored them.
“Lynnie,” said Aunt Cimarron, “I’m sorry we couldn’t help.” She hugged Lynnie.
“You did your best,” Lynnie said.
“I’m going to have a barbecue next month in your honor,” Auntie said.
“That’s nice.” Lynnie was only half listening, already planning her next move in the great crusade. Maybe she could start a newspaper or, better yet, lead the few liberated women she knew to picket the local newspaper.
“Maverick,” Uncle Trace said as they shook hands, “give some thought to coming on that cattle drive.”
Maverick nodded. “I’m in. Sounds like old times.”
While everyone continued to talk, Lynnie lifted her skirts to get into the buggy. After a moment’s hesitation, Ace sauntered over reluctantly and offered his hand in assistance.
“I don’t need your help,” she said, and got in by herself.
“I was tryin’ to act like a gentleman,” Ace said.
“A gentleman?” Lynnie snorted. “Everyone knows all you can think of is getting a girl’s drawers off.”
“Not yours.” In the moonlight, she could see he was so annoyed, his nostrils flared.
The family crowd was breaking up; Maverick was bringing over more children to pile into the buggy. They all waved good-bye. Maverick slapped the horse with the reins, and the buggy pulled away. When she glanced back, her uncle and aunt had turned toward their buggy, but Ace was grinning at her as if pleased she’d gotten what she deserved. She forgot she was a dignified representative of women’s rights. She did what she had done years ago when the brute had annoyed her: she stuck her tongue out at him and crossed her eyes.
“I hope your face freezes that way!” he yelled at her.
Maverick glanced sideways at Lynnie. “What was that about?”
She gave her brother-in-law her most innocent look. “I’m sure I haven’t the faintest idea. You know what an uncivilized oaf Ace Durango is. I pity the poor, downtrodden girl who gets stuck with him!”
Cimarron sipped her coffee and nodded to her husband as he came in from the barn and threw his Stetson up on the coatrack. “Hey,” he yelled, “I could use some coffee out here!”
“Keep your shirt on.” Cookie limped out of the kitchen and slammed the pot down. “You could get it yourself; I got a cake in the oven.” He turned and limped back into the kitchen.
“What happened to Juanita?” Trace poured himself a cup and made a wry face as he tasted it.
“Another cousin’s having a baby,” Cimarron murmured, and returned to the list she was working on.
“I ought to fire that old bastard,” Trace grumbled, “for being so uppity, and besides, he’s a lousy cook.”
“I heerd that!” Cookie yelled from the kitchen.
Cimarron rolled her eyes. “Trace, you know better than that. The old don would turn over in his grave if you fired Cookie. He’s been here since you were a kid, cooking on the cattle drives.”
“And he’s poisoned hundreds of good cowboys.” Trace yelled toward the kitchen, “Did you hear that?”
“Oh, hush up.” The grizzled cook stuck his head out the kitchen door, “You’ll cause my cake to fall.”
“Won’t make it taste any worse,” Trace said.
“I’ll see you don’t get none.” Cookie disappeared behind the door.
“That’s a relief,” Trace muttered.
“Shame on you. Now you’ve hurt his feelings,” Cimarron said.
“The old rattlesnake doesn’t have any.” Trace sipped his coffee and shuddered, looking around. “Where’s our lazy son? It’s past dawn; day’s half gone.”
“Nobody should have to get out of bed this early.” Ace stumbled into the dining room, yawning and wiping his eyes.
“Just getting up?” his father grumbled, “I’ve been up two hours.”
Ace sighed. “I know, Dad, you’re always up with the chickens, but then, you weren’t playin’ cards last night.”
Trace frowned, and Cimarron rushed in to stop the fuss before it started. “Did you win, son?”
Ace took a chair, grinning. “Took Willis Forrester for a couple of thousand.” He surveyed his father’s cup and frowned. “Not again. Cookie,” he yelled, “can I get some coffee out here?”
“I only got two hands!” the old man hollered from the kitchen. “Can’t you Durangos do anything for yourselves?”
“You ought to fire that old bastard,” Ace grumbled as he got up and retrieved a cup from the sideboard.
“I heerd that!” the old man yelled from the kitchen.
Trace smiled, evidently in a better mood because a Durango had won over a Forrester again. The Forresters headquartered in Austin and weren’t too fussy about how they acquired land and money. He leaned back in his chair and said “Son, I want you to help Pedro and me bring in that herd from the south forty today.”
“Today? It’s colder than a witch’s ti—”
“Don’t use that word in front of your mother!” Trace snapped. “You think I don’t know it’s cold? Hell, I’ve been out in it since before sunrise.”
Cimarron moved to diffuse the tension between the two. “Now, Ace, dear, you are, after all, a rancher. It won’t kill you to help Dad with a few cattle.”
“Rich, spoiled kid,” Trace grumbled. “All you think about is cards, women, and whiskey.”
“You forgot fast horses,” Ace grinned, and turned to yell toward the kitchen. “Hey, Cookie, I’m starvin’ out here.”
“I’m comin’! I’m comin’!” The old man limped in with a plate of steak and eggs. “Here, you young pup. If the old don was still alive, we’d be servin’ up this breakfast out on the range, makin’ plans for a big brandin’ and a cattle drive.”
“And you’d be right there, cookin’ for our cowboys.” Ace winked at the cook, and the old man winked back. Despite his orneryness, they were all quite fond of the disabled cowboy, despite the fact that he was the worst cook in the hill country. Still, when Juanita was gone, the old man insisted on stepping into her spot, to the dismay of everyone on the place.
Ace dug into the huge platter of burnt eggs and half-raw steak with gusto and smiled as he thought of winning that big pot last night. There was a certain pretty little señorita over at Fandango he thought he’d spend some of it on.
“Cookie,” Dad said, looking up at the old man, “I think you’re right. I’m still thinking about organizing one final cattle drive.”
Ace groaned aloud at the thought. “Dad, I hope you’re jokin’ about that; I got no time for herdin’ cattle all the way to Kansas.”
“It might keep you out of jail and the cantinas for a while,” Dad said, glowering at him.
“Oh, now, boss,” Cookie said, coming to his defense, “you got to expect young fellas will sow a few wild oats. As I recall, you sure did afore the lady here haltered and broke you.”
Ma ducked her head, attempting to hide a smile, but Ace saw it. Someday, he’d like a girl just like Ma, but not anytime soon. There were too many pretty, wild girls out there tempting him to drink and dance all night. He wasn’t ready to be tied down and branded yet.
Ma said, “There’s something I’d like to talk about. I’m planning an old-fashioned Texas barbecue.”
All three men looked at her with curiosity.
Ace nodded agreeably. “Sounds like a real fiesta: plenty of beef and beer and pretty girls.”
Dad cocked his head and looked at Ma. “You still set on that?”
“Well,” she said with a nod, “Cayenne contacted me and said the family would like to come for a visit.”
Ace paused with his fork halfway to his lips, like a wary coyote smelling a trap. “They can come anytime without throwing a big party.”
“Actually . . .” Cimarron put down her cup and beamed at him. “We’re trying to do something for Lynnie.”
“Uh-oh,” Cookie said, and went back through the kitchen door.
Ace groaned aloud. “Don’t even mention that woman to me.”
“I reckon not,” Dad said, “after you got the poor little thing in so much trouble.”
“Me? Get her in trouble?” Ace looked at him in disbelief. “Lordy, Dad, she was the one who—she used me,” Ace groused.
Ma cleared her throat. “Sounds like what I’ve heard girls say about you.”
“I don’t reckon anyone would believe this”—Ace attacked his eggs again—“but Lynnie’s smart, almost as smart as a man, and as sneaky as a coyote.”
“Do tell.” Ma smiled sweetly. “Well, we all know the poor little thing’s been fired from her teaching job.”
“I reckon so!” Ace snorted, “after causin’ a riot at the governor’s ball. She’s got too much pluck for one girl; it ain’t natural.”
“Okay, so she’s feisty,” Dad conceded, sipping his coffee. “The Durango men have always liked feisty women. That’s how I ended up with your mother.”
“Well, I ain’t endin’ up with Lynnie McBride.” Ace shuddered as he reached for another charred biscuit. “Why, she ain’t even got any prospects, much less been spoke for, and she’s old to be unmarried.”
“Twenty is not old. And besides, Lynnie’s choosy,” Ma said, rushing to the defense.
“You mean, men are choosy,” Ace corrected as he buttered the bread. “No Texan wants to go through life with a headstrong, skinny . . .”
“Why don’t you just admit you can’t handle her?” Dad leaned back in his chair and grinned. “She’s a well-bred little filly.”
“I like my mounts wild,” Ace snapped back, remembering how stubborn Lynnie was, “but she’s the most opinionated, annoying—”
“Don’t talk with your mouth full, and stop it, you two,” Ma interrupted. “If Cayenne is to be believed— and I think she is—Lynnie wouldn’t have our son if he was the last man in Texas.”
Ace felt his mouth drop open. “Why, that snippy, prim little—somebody should tell her girls are linin’ up for me; I’m charmin’.”
“Evidently, Lynnie doesn’t think so,” Ma said. “So I’m throwing this barbecue, inviting all the young people in two or three counties, and sort of give Lynnie a chance to meet eligible young men and pick one.”
“Won’t do any good,” Ace said, attacking the steak. “They’ve all heard about the ruckus she caused at the ball.”
“Well, there’s bound to be one young man in Texas who can appreciate Lynnie’s good points.”
“Which are . . . ?” Ace looked at her.
“Don’t get smart with your mother,” Trace snapped. “Besides, once Cimarron sets her mind to something, she’s gonna do it, and you’re wasting her breath trying to stop her.”
“That’s a fact!” Cookie called from the kitchen.
“Cookie,” Cimarron yelled, “it isn’t polite to eavesdrop on family discussions.”
Cookie stuck his grizzled, weathered face out of the kitchen door. “Well, now, if I ain’t family by now, I don’t know who is.”
“You’re right, Cookie,” Cimarron conceded. “Besides, I’ll need both your and Juanita’s help to put on this shindig.”
“I’ll have to look at my social schedule and see if I’m available,” the old man said loftily. “When you plannin’ this barbecue?”
“End of March,” Cimarron said. “It’ll warm up by then, and the bluebonnets will be in bloom—a very romantic time.”
Ace snorted, “It’ll take more than bluebonnets to marry off that headstrong old maid.”
“Ace, please!” Ma glared at him. “You only have to make sure that all your friends meet her and maybe ask her to dance.”
“Lordy, Ma,” Ace protested, “I’m still indebted to my friends over the governor’s ball.”
Cimarron got up from her chair. “Well, if you can’t get your friends to dance with her, then you can just entertain her yourself all evening.”
Ace sighed at the thought of verbal sparring with the prim Miss McBride for a long, long evening. “All right, you win. You know, it’s a good thing you don’t play poker, Ma. You’re a hell of an opponent.”
Dad seemed to stifle a grin. “Better to get in the way of a stampede than in the path of a determined woman, son. I think the barbecue is a great idea; it’ll give me a chance to talk to all the local ranchers about the cattle drive. Now, finish up your breakfast, Ace. We’ve got a lot of work to do before sundown.”
He sighed and listened to the wind whip around the rancho. “But it’s cold enough out there to freeze the balls off a—”
“Ace!” Ma glared at him.
“Well, it is.”
“Such a nancy-boy,” Cookie yelled from the kitchen, “me and the old don brought in thousands of cows in weather colder than this.”
Cimarron smiled as the two men in her life reached for their Stetsons. Maybe her husband was right: Ace was spoiled and soft and did as little around the ranch as possible. She thought marriage to a serious, responsible girl might snap him out of it, but maybe Ace wasn’t through sowing his wild oats. Sending him on a long cattle drive would certainly toughen him up.