Abigail Silver sat on her suitcase and squirmed. She longed for someone to answer her questions, but she also dreaded speaking to the strangers around her. From what she could see, Denver was, well, rough. She’d known there’d been an economic downfall when the price of silver dropped. Considering Colorado was the kingdom of silver mines, the change affected the state badly. Now all she saw were beggars and overly-rouged women stalking the few remaining wealthy businessmen.
She glanced down at her lace gloves, stroking the silver locket she had kept clenched in her hand throughout her journey from Texas to Colorado. It was not a fancy locket, no etchings nor engravings. The silver had been polished, kept clean, but one could tell that the locket had seen better days. Abigail’s bottom lip began to tremble. She bit it quickly before anyone noticed. Crying had always been her habitual defense. When she had stepped on the train and taken one last look at her parents’ faces, she promised herself that she would no longer cry in front of others. She was tired of being the weak one, the silly and frivolous girl who was always described as simply pretty, never useful, never smart, or kind, just pretty. She often felt like a piece of art whose sole purpose was to hang on a wall and adorn her surroundings.
The locket in her hand was warm now from her continuous stroking. Her mother, Hannah, had given it to her for luck. Although Abigail wondered if it was more of a reminder as to why Abigail’s beloved parents, who had spoiled her, pampered her, and given her an abundance of love, were now sending her away.
/
“I don’t understand,” Abigail had cried. Sinking to her bed, she looked up at her mother’s beautiful face that looked concerned and sad, but also determined. “I’ve been sending out inquiries to teach in Texas… around here.” Abigail wrung her hands. In truth, she had not planned on teaching at all. There were many suitors, many men of notable professions who courted her on a regular basis. She expected a proposal soon from one wealthy lawyer in particular. She would marry, live in a fine large house and hopefully, God willing, children would not come too soon so that she and her husband could travel and enjoy some pleasures before settling down.
All that had crumpled when her mother came to tell her that she now had a position in Colorado—a cold rough country she had no desire to see.
“Abby,” her mother had said gently while lowering herself to sit beside her distraught daughter. “I really feel you need this. You know I pray for you every day, asking the good Lord to guide me that I might raise you in love and wisdom. I want the best for you, and I feel the Lord wants this.” She took Abby’s hand. “My darling, you know this breaks my heart to send you away. I would not do it unless I felt it was the right thing.”
Abigail pulled her hand away. “You are showing your love by sending me away? I don’t understand. Why do I need to go? What have I done wrong besides be a good daughter, a good person? Do you want me to be gone like Joseph? Always gone so you and father can have peace and quiet without your troublesome children in the way?” she had said bitterly.
Her mother, Hannah, sighed and shook her head. “You know that’s not true Abby, and you’re not troublesome, nor have you done anything wrong. The problem is that you just haven’t done anything.” Her mother threw her hands in the air. “Once you became—” she waved at Abby’s body and face, “beautiful, your life was suddenly centered on parties, fashion, men, and being a popular socialite. Gone was my sweet girl with a firm faith in God and who she was.”
“You’re saying I’ve lost my faith?” Abby frowned. Despite her anger, Abby did know her mother loved her, and she also knew her mother was a wise woman. What she said struck Abby… had she really become so shallow?
“No, I don’t think you’ve lost it, but it has been shoved back into the far cupboards of your heart while silly, unimportant things have taken higher priority.” Hannah touched the silver locket she always kept around her neck. “You know when I met your father, I was a rough-handed cook for a hundred cowboys herding cattle. Your father wasn’t the well-to-do rancher he is now. He had just settled his own ranch with a few skinny cows and no business connections. Marrying a poor widowed cook with a son only added more to his plate.” Her eyes softened remembering the old times. “But he worked, and me and your brother worked, and worked, and it was wonderful. I promise that the greatest happiness comes from knowing hardship. It’s the only time we are forced to go to God.”
Once again she reached for Abby’s hand. “You, my dear, have not had enough challenges, and I love you too much to let you become a shallow, silly woman.” She looked down at the locket. “This was my only piece of jewelry for many years as I struggled to feed your brother Joseph, put up with my by then drunken husband, and eventually earn my way as a widow. Your father has offered many times to buy me a new one, but I keep this to remind me of the blessings the Lord has given me, and I’m not talking about having a prosperous ranch. I am talking about the insight, the love, and the happiness He has given me by allowing me to struggle.”
/
Abby now unclasped the locket and placed it around her neck. It looked especially old against her fancy frock and large hat; a part of her wanted to take it off, embarrassed at its antiquity. When the thought settled in, Abby shook her head and scolded herself.
Goodness Abby, you have become a high and mighty snob, she thought shaking her head.
Maybe Colorado was what she needed. Still, it had been hard to go, hard to leave her beautiful home with the rich grassy fields and the smell of roses outside her window. She had hoped to see Joseph, her older brother and best friend, but as always, he had been too busy.
She sighed and looked around. She had captured several stares. Women glared disapprovingly at her dress and five cases. Men nodded, some winked and tipped their hats. Abby felt her face go red.
Men. Generally she loved men. Loved the attention and presents they gave her. That was, until her father told her that several men had asked for his permission to marry his only daughter, and when Jefferson Silver explained that his daughter would not be receiving a significant inheritance, or a part of the ranch, their proposals had been suddenly withdrawn.
“Of course when your mother and I are passed away, you will receive an inheritance,” he had explained to her. “But most of these men sniffing around here are after my land, not you. I don’t want to rob you of true love for some gold digging hound.
The revelation had shocked Abby and then had broken her heart. Here she had believed her beauty and charm had won the men’s hearts. Now she knew it had been her father’s fat cattle that had enticed the roses and chocolates. Right now she was angry. Truth be told, she did not care if she never saw another man again.
“Miss Abigail Silver?” a deep voice asked. Abby looked up from her self-pitying trance. Her rosebud lips parted and her large gray eyes blinked once… twice… three times.
In front of her stood a young man in his mid-twenties—a little older than her, a little younger than Joseph. His jaw was square, masculine, and free of facial hair, which he made up for by the deep mahogany locks that hung a good solid two inches below his ears. What took Abby aback was his size. The tallest, most muscular man she had ever seen had always been Joseph. This man was nearly as tall and strong looking as her brother—nearly.
Abby gulped as she met his intensely blue eyes, the patched trousers and working boots contradicted his jaw-dropping beauty.
“Uh, yes, I am Abigail Silver. You can call me Abby,” she tried to laugh gaily, but it came out more like a throaty cough. She blushed crimson as the man raised an amused eyebrow.
“Abby, huh?” he nodded. “I’m Pastor Will, from Tall Pine. I’ve come to, uh–” his eyes widened slightly at her multiple, large cases, “to collect you, I guess.” He glanced again at the cases, and Abby cursed herself for bringing too many. Now she felt even more like a silly girl. She was a schoolteacher for crying out loud, not a princess on holiday. She did not need to bring every dress and blouse and buckle, but she had and she couldn’t change that now.
“These all yours?” Will asked with a sigh.
Abby nodded. “Most are just school supplies. You know, should the school house not be able to provide much.” She lied in desperation, so as to not appear so foolish.
The pastor’s lips twitched playfully. Pastors weren’t supposed to look like him were they? Wasn’t there a law that said pastors needed squinty eyes and a large belly? Maybe Abby had sworn off men a little too quickly.
Will scanned Abby’s fancy lace dress. “School supplies?” he questioned with a grin, obviously seeing right through her lie.
Abby looked away, feeling flustered. What a horrible way for an introduction. A much-too-fancy dress, too much luggage, and a transparent lie. “I thought a coach would be taking me to Tall Pine,” she said, straightening her shoulders.
Will shrugged. “Lots of the transportation was cut down in Denver with the fall of silver. You wouldn’t be able to get a coach for a couple days, and with the crime rate in Denver—” he glanced at a group of men drooling over Abby and looking at her cases. “I didn’t feel right about leaving a school teacher alone in a hotel for several days.”
Abby smiled gratefully. “Thank you; that would have been a bit unnerving.”
Will gave a half nod and stopped one of the station’s employees to ask for a dolly of some sort to carry the cases to his wagon. “You don’t have any more of these, um, school supplies do you?” he asked with a smile.
Abby laughed and shook her head. “No I don’t, but I could always send for more if you think I should,” she teased.
Will chuckled. “I think five is ample.” He was silent for a few minutes as he stacked the cases onto the dolly without breaking a sweat. Abby noticed that periodically his gaze would dart over to her and linger no more than a blink’s worth. She straightened her hat. He was being polite in a cheeky sort of way, but he was not acting as men usually did with her… he was not attentive. Suddenly anger flared within Abby. Why should he pay any attention to her? He wasn’t aware of her father’s good standing amongst the ranchers, or of his acres, or of her fine house. Why should he give her attention since, apparently, all she had to offer was what her parents had earned?
“Miss Abby?” Will asked, looking amused. Abby jumped. Had she been staring off again? She often did that when deep in thought. How embarrassing.
“Oh sorry, I was… thinking,” she stammered and cleared her throat.
Will pressed his lips together, obviously trying to refrain from smiling. “I figured as such.” He nodded towards the left, “Come on, the wagon is outside the station and Tall Pine is a long ways off.”
Abby was grateful to get out of Denver. Supposedly they would pass another town where Will would water the horses, and then Tall Pine was not too far after that. Abby could not help the quick beat in her heart. What would Tall Pine be like?
Will must have read her thoughts because after a few moments of silence he began to talk. “You know, Denver took a hard hit with the reduction of silver value,” he explained. “Lots of city folk invested in silver, lots of businesses, too. Then when they crashed, the poor miners all flocked to the city hoping for work, but none was to be found.” He frowned, shaking his head. “A few years back they had a big festival trying to raise people’s spirits. Things are getting better, but it still has a way to go.”
Abby nodded. “Tall Pine, did it get hit hard, too?”
Will shook his head with a smile. “No, Tall Pine is a farming valley, some ranches, too. Our currency did take a hit but not like the city. The town is small, with family businesses. Some of the miners tried finding work in Tall Pine, rather than going into the city. A few managed, but there’s not enough work to go around. People give the jobs to family or friends first.” He sighed. “Miners tend to have it hard.”
Abby nodded, feeling a little better. She wanted to hear more, but once again Will grew silent. For a few hours he said nothing. His jaw was set tightly with a slight tick that flexed every few minutes. Abby straightened herself. Why was she paying so much attention to him? She had always been the one being chased, not the other way around.
Will suddenly grinned arrogantly. “You like my face, Teacher?” he asked with a chuckle, “Cause you keep looking at it.”
Abby’s mouth dropped. Of all the conceited things to say. Who cared if it were true or not? How dare he speak to her in such baseness? “I… I,” she was speechless. Why could she not come up with something to say? “What else is there to look at?” she asked, knowing it was a dumb thing to say.
Will raised an eyebrow. “You kidding? Look around you. Colorado has the best scenery in the country, if you ask me. In fact, doctors send people to Colorado for their health, saying it has the best air.”
Abby looked around her. Despite it being late summer, it was still chilly. She shivered; her coat and thin lace dress were not enough to keep her warm. Most schools were closed during late summer and through the fall, so the children could help with the harvest. Tall Pine, however, was an exception due to the snow and blizzards. So Tall Pine’s school stayed open through the autumn. The Mayor had written that Tall Pine was at its most beautiful during the harvest season. Abby found it hard to admire the beauty when she couldn’t feel her toes. Still, she could admit the mountains were majestic. She’d never seen anything like them in Texas, which had its own kind of beauty in the open, flat landscape.
“Here you go,” Will said suddenly, handing her a thick wool blanket. “It’s only going to get colder, Miss. You better learn to dress appropriate.”
Abby took the blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders. The thick wool felt heavy around her—and comforting. Soon her teeth stopped chattering and her toes began to move. Why had she brought so many of her fancy dresses instead of following her mother’s advice and buying some wool and flannel ones? The blanket warmed her but not completely, and soon her stomach began to twist in hunger. She tightened her arms around her hoping to smother the growling sound. She slid a glance at Will; his gaze was set forward in concentration. He must have gone back to his thoughts. Abby bit her lip. She was never one who did well in silence. She loved a good conversation. So did Joseph. A small smile danced across her lips: she missed Joseph. She and her parents had spent the past few years trying to convince her brother to leave the Rangers. With several gunshot wounds and knife scars, it would not be long before Joseph ended up like his own father… dead. The thought made Abby sick; she loved her big brother—she needed him. He always gave such good advice and helped her laugh at herself.
/
“You ought to join the Rangers, Abby,” he would tease her. “You could talk any outlaw to death and never waste a bullet.”
“At least I have interesting things to say, unlike you who only talks of guns and Indians. Why I thought you were gonna frighten Miss Rose to death talking about cannibal Indians.”
“Karankawa Indians,” he corrected. “And, if a woman can’t handle a little story about cannibal Indians, then she isn’t a real woman.”
“What?” Abby shook her head. “That is nonsense. I am just saying it is vulgar.”
Joseph grinned like a cat with a helpless bird. “Vulgar, huh? Should I tell mother about the books you have hidden beneath your clothes? Pirates, Abby? That is the best you can do? Pirates and—” his grin broadened into a crooked smile that her friends often called his ‘heart breaking smile’, “gunfighters who steal away princesses and ladies?” He produced from behind him one of her forbidden books.
“You went through my bloomers?”
“No, I paid Manuel. He’s the cook’s son, right?”
Abby snatched away the book. Her mother usually preferred to do the cooking herself; she had only hired Rosa because she had a weakness for a widowed mother with a son. Now Abby wished that her mother’s frugality had overcome her compassion.
“I will have a word with Rosa,” she said, knowing she would not.
“Oh, don’t worry about it little sister. I like you better knowing that you dream about other men besides soft-handed attorneys.” He winked, and just like that, Abby’s anger dissipated. Joseph’s winks had a way of doing that.
A slight sprinkle of rain tickled Abby on the nose. She brushed the wet stuff away and a giant yawn overtook her. Will glanced over with no expression before giving a slight jerk to the reigns, speeding up the horses. Another yawn made Abby’s eyes water. She ought to close them. Not fall asleep, not with Will next to her—that was far too intimate—but closing her eyes, resting them for a minute would not hurt.
/
Joseph stood still, hands folded respectfully in front of him as the judge announced the verdict.
Joseph Silver, Texas Ranger and servant of the law had shot Bill Cuss in self-defense, and by doing so had fulfilled his duty to stop outlaws and prevent crime. Standing beside him were two other Texas Rangers standing as still as he was: steady heartbeats, cool skin; they were used to these types of trials. The killing of Bill Cuss, a murdering, thieving, woman-beating type of man, had been done by Joseph’s bullet. Joseph wished that he felt some remorse. Perhaps he would have had he not come across so many of Bill Cuss’ victims.
“All arise,” the judge announced in a voice heavy from the thick Texas heat. Joseph waited, as did the other two Rangers beside him. Each was a witness, and each one had a bandage, one on the arm, the other on the shoulder.
“Ain’t fair, you’re the one who shot him, and yet you ended up with not even a scratch,” one of them whispered to Joseph, who grinned despite himself. Jesse was a seasoned Ranger who had lived longer than most and had lived in the days when being a Ranger meant battling Indians.
“Just means I’m quicker,” Joseph whispered back.
“Silence, please, gentlemen, “The judge glared down at them like an angry hawk.
The Rangers bowed their heads in apology.
“Now then,” the judge continued. “I hereby rule that Joseph Silver shot Bill Cuss as was his duty to protect Texas citizens and his fellow Rangers, and in self-defense while protecting the hostage Alice Greene.” He cracked the pulpit with his hammer, the sound echoing through the large courthouse. “This case is dismissed. Thank you, gentlemen.”
The youngest Ranger, new on the job, winced as Jesse brushed by his wounded arm. “Is it normal to get shot on your first shoot out?”
Jesse scrunched his face. “That wasn’t even a shoot out boy.”
“That was a shoot out. He shot, and we shot back,” Sabine, the young Ranger, argued.
“No. You got excited, shot a bush twenty yards away from the actual target; oh, and that was after we instructed you to hold your fire. Bill Cuss returned fire, and were it not for Joseph, who had the brains to climb the slope and get behind Bill, then you and I would both be dead.”
Joseph remained silent; his eyes were on the twenty-year-old Alice Greene who had been called as a witness. She now clung to her parents, who gently led her out of the courthouse after casting a grateful nod to Joseph. It was times like this that he remembered why he was a Ranger. It was not just because his father was a true-blooded Texas Ranger who had died on the job when Joseph was ten, but there was a satisfaction that came from bringing justice to the world. Alice Greene was a bit slow, yet her parents adored her. When she’d been taken hostage by Bill Cuss as he fled to the border, Mrs. Greene had clawed at Joseph’s shirt begging him to bring back her little girl. Joseph had. He wasn’t a trigger crazy Ranger, although he was the best shot among them, and most of the time taking a life left him with a sick pit in his stomach. But when he remembered scared Alice with her tear-stained face and the threats Bill shouted, he didn’t feel so sick this time.
“Joe, who’s that man looking at you?” Sabine asked, narrowing his eyes at a tall tanned figure. Joseph glanced across the courthouse to see Jefferson, his stepfather, nod with his customary grin. Joseph lifted his chin in acknowledgment. What was Jefferson doing here? Joseph hadn’t made it back home for a while and he knew his mother and little sister Abby were upset about that. Had Jeff come to drag him back home? Joseph suddenly frowned. Even if he were to return home, Abby would not be there. She was up in Colorado or halfway there. A beautiful state, from what he had heard, but one he had no desire to visit.
“Why, that’s Jefferson Silver,” Jesse answered for Joseph. “A respected man in the ranching business, owns the third largest ranch in Texas, mostly Angus cows.” He looked at Joseph for correction. “Has a pretty big influence in the Cattle Raisers Association, don’t he?”
Joseph nodded. “Jeff’s honest and doesn’t do any shady business with the slaughterhouses back East, and he’s pulled through several droughts,” Joseph said proudly. He and his stepfather never had a talkative nor open type of relationship, but it had developed, at least on Joseph’s side, to a respected friendship. Jeff had started from nothing and had worked until his calloused hands were scarred and weathered. He’d taken in Hannah, Joseph’s mother, and had been a good husband to her. Joseph hated to admit it, but Jefferson had been a better husband and father than Joe’s old man, no drinking, no beating or cursing. Still, Joe’s old man gave him life, and he’d been a Ranger, a hard and noble work. No matter what logic told him, Joseph felt that bonding with another father figure would be betraying his own.
“Well fellas, this is where I leave you.” He gave Jesse, his old friend, a pat on the back.
“You ain’t gonna head to the saloon with us?” Sabine asked.
Joseph laughed at the puppy-like eagerness of the young man who just discovered the legendary romance that came with being a Texas Ranger. Joseph saw no romance in the job. A Texas Ranger could not, or at least should not, marry. Early death, always away from home, and especially the stress of the job didn’t induce good qualities for a family man. He knew all this firsthand.
“I don’t drink kid, and besides those saloon girls aren’t my type.” He tossed Jesse a knowing wink.
The grizzled man laughed and tugged Sabine with him. “You want saloon girls? Come, I will give you saloon girls. Though I got to mention the ones around these parts ain’t got no teeth.”
Joseph chuckled, not hearing Sabine’s groan. He preferred to avoid saloons altogether. Drinking could do ugly things to a man.
Jefferson watched Joseph walk over to him. The young man towered over most of the courthouse crowd, and his silver-and-turquoise-studded belt buckle shone as the sun peaked through the small windows, reflecting on the silver. He was all in all an impressive looking man.
“You finally following the Ranger fashion, I see.” Jefferson laughed, motioning at his own lip to indicate Joseph’s mustache.
Joseph chuckled and pulled his stepfather into a tight embrace. It was good to see family. “What are you doing in these parts?”
Jeff smiled and gripped Joseph by the shoulders looking into his handsome face, noticing the small lines etched with worry across his forehead.
“Well, I heard about the trial. Heard about your shot. Didn’t know you could aim from that far a distance.”
Joseph gave a low whistle. “Never been so scared in my life. Sabine had gotten excited and fired, and then Jesse had to distract Cuss by running around while I climbed a slope. I was too far, but when I saw Cuss aiming at Jesse who was hiding behind some small brush, I had to fire or watch my good friend die.”
Jeff nodded approvingly. Although he hoped Joseph would give up the Ranger life, he could not help the swell of pride he felt knowing his stepson had never lost a man while he served as Captain. Those who went with him always returned—even if it meant Joseph coming back bloody and bruised. One of the proudest days of Jefferson Silver’s life had been the day when Joseph took the name of Silver as his own.
“I have to ask,” Jeff folded his arms, “Colt or Winchester?”
Joseph laughed and shook his head. “Winchester. I love the Colt, but those boys are for shoot outs, not for a perfect aim.” Joseph instinctively placed his hands on the strapped-on pistols. Sturdy, revolving Colts, they had practically become a symbol for a Ranger.
The Winchester though, a long elegant rifle that smelled of heated wood and steel, that was Joseph’s woman and child, all in one. The Winchester had been his father’s rifle. Joseph had watched his father clean the gun, polish it, talk to it. He took better care of that rifle than he did his own family. Joseph often teased that his father had polished his very soul into the Winchester, as such, when it came to a lucky shot, the Winchester won over the Colt every time.
“You hungry?” Joseph suddenly asked. He did not like thinking about his father. It took him to a dark place.
Jeff nodded. “Saw a promising restaurant not far from here. Let’s get us some dinner and I’ll explain my mysterious appearance.”
“There’s a reason?” Joseph mocked a disappointed expression. “I was hoping you just wanted to see my handsome face.”
Jeff rolled his eyes. “Your mother was about to flatten that handsome face with her fists when you didn’t show up this summer.” He raised his hands in protest before Joseph could speak. “But, she understood when she realized you were stalking down Bill Cuss. Texas will sleep better now that he is gone.”
Joseph smiled. “When the law calls not even blood or love can hold me, right?” he laughed. That had become the unofficial motto of Rangers, a weak explanation that young Rangers gave to weeping sweethearts. Joseph suddenly frowned. It was the same words that his father had always recited to him.
A large plate of grits, biscuits, and a thick-cut steak was placed in front of Joseph, and he grinned. He loved good food. He really, really loved good food.
“So what’s the secret? Why did you travel all the way out here?” he asked before taking a large bite of his grits.
Jeff sighed and held his fork a little tighter. “It’s about, well, it’s about your future.”
Joseph raised his eyebrows. “My future? I was sure it was about you and Mom shipping Abby to Colorado.”
Jeff gave a helpless shrug. “You received a letter from her?”
Joseph laughed and nodded, then smothered his biscuit with butter. “I’m not a religious type to know the Scriptures and such, but the one about wailing and gnashing of teeth came to mind when I read her letter.”
Jeff chuckled. “Abby does have a dramatic flair, doesn’t she?”
Joseph nodded. “Mom sent a letter as well explaining your decision.”
“You agree?” Jeff asked with a creased forehead.
Joseph took another bite before giving an amused nod. “I absolutely agree. Abby is my favorite person in the world, but she’s become quite the—” he grinned, “lady.”
Jeff chuckled. “That is about what your mother feels. Abby has become the socialite of Texas, and not in a good way.”
“Has Abby ever seen snow?”
Jeff shook his head. “Nope. The school year actually starts earlier there. I guess the town she is going to has no attendance in December and part of January due to the snow.”
“You worried about her?” Joseph asked, noting the slight catch in Jeff’s voice. It was a redundant question. Of course Jeff was worried. He was a good father and a good man, and Abby was the baby of the family.
“Of course I’m worried about my little princess,” Jeff said, vocalizing Joseph’s thoughts. “But that’s the problem. She is a princess who attracts soft-handed, money-sniffing boys.”
“Not like Mom, huh?” Joseph took another large bite.
“No, not like your Mom,” Jeff agreed, his expression softening. “Your mother was a woman, a real queen who carried a skillet that she used to smack any cowboy who said a vulgar remark to her. I fell in love with an equal, a woman, who I was proud to have by my side. I want the same for Abby. I want a man who sees her as the prize, not the accessory to the prize, meaning my ranch.”
Joseph nodded. “Well, then you’re doing the right thing.”
Jeff looked up, his eyebrows knitting together. He said nothing for a moment and Joseph grew uncomfortable. He wasn’t used to having a man stare at him if it wasn’t over the barrel of a gun.
Finally Jeff cleared his throat, clasped his hands and leaned his forearms on the table. “And are you doing the right thing, Joseph?”
Joseph frowned. “What are you talking about, Jeff?”
Jeff broke eye contact for a second before reaffirming his gaze. “Joseph, your mother and I, well, we are reaching that age where handling such a large ranch is tiresome. I would like to have the time to take her to New Orleans or New York, have more nights with us reading quietly together, knowing that we don’t need to be up at the crack of dawn.” He paused, turning slightly red. “We would like some holidays with… with grandchildren.”
Joseph raised his eyebrows. “Well, then maybe sending Abby to Colorado wasn’t the wisest choice—”
“I’m talking about you Joseph,” Jeff said suddenly. “I’m worried about you, about your future. If you even have a future. You’re a good Ranger, a fantastic Ranger even—”
“But?” Joseph asked warily.
Jeff opened his mouth and hesitated for a breath. “But, I don’t think, I don’t feel,” he growled in frustration unable to find the words he wished to express. “Maybe what I feel is that although you are a fantastic Ranger and helping this world, maybe you would be an even better rancher, husband, and father.” Jeff let out a weary sigh.
“You are telling me I should quit the Rangers and have your life?” Joseph asked with no sarcasm, but a slight dryness in his voice. Being a Ranger was who he was, his love was his work, and his life was fighting injustice. There was no room for romance, no room for family. He had the opportunities, beautiful women sighing as he passed by and fathers of marriageable daughters offering jobs when he had helped them in a matter. Being a Texas Ranger though was his soul. It was what his father had wanted him to be, and it was the only thing that made Joseph feel he still had, or ever had, any bond with his father.
“I know this sounds controlling or even arrogant on my part, but Joseph I want you to be happy, and there is no greater happiness for a man than having a woman to love and a family to work for. You feel a satisfaction every time you drag a criminal into court, or save a man’s family and livelihood, don’t you?”
Joseph nodded.
“Well son, I feel that every minute. I feel it when I look at your good mother and see Abby’s bravery. ‘Cause no matter how scared that girl is, she is in Colorado right now.” He glanced at his hands. “And, when I see the man you have become, my heart swells with pride. Every ounce of sweat I ever dropped, every sleepless night when I went over cattle numbers, was an honor.” His eyes locked on Joseph. “I want you to have that same satisfaction Joseph, that same pride and,” he swallowed. “I want you to have half my ranch and eventually all of it.”
Joseph choked on a piece of steak. He pounded his chest. “What? No, Jeff.” He shook his head. “That honor belongs to Abby.”
Jeff waved a hand in the air. “Right, I give Abby the ranch, or even half a ranch and it falls into the hands of some gold digger or one of those dreamers who swear there is oil in this state and tears apart the ranch, diggin’.” He shook his head in disgust. “Abby will get part of the ranch, maybe, but a good number of years after she’s married so I can see the true intentions of her husband.”
Joseph gave a half smile. “Listen Jeff, I am honored, truly, by your offer, but I’m not the type to settle down. And I’m certainly not the type to chase after a woman, marry her, and then have a family.” He touched the star pinned to his chest. “Ranger at heart, always have been, always will be.” He lowered his hand, suddenly remembering his mother saying that only God could change a man’s heart, but Joseph didn’t need God. He never did. “Besides, the ranch should go to your real child. It should be Abby’s. She is your daughter, your only child; I couldn’t take that from her.”
Jeff’s face fell, and his eyes clouded over. Joseph caught that he had said something hurtful, although he wasn’t exactly sure what it was.
Jeff shook his head. “Oh, Joseph,” he sighed. “When will you understand?”