Stella Bagwell

Her Texas Ranger


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he said, then added with a thoughtful frown, “If I remember right, she was around my age, wasn’t she?”

      Seth nodded. “I was a senior when you two were freshmen.”

      “I always got the impression that she had a chip on her shoulder,” Ross commented.

      “She had reason,” Seth countered gruffly. “The Dawsons were always one of the poorest families around here. I’m sure it was a struggle for her to hold her head up with pride.”

      “I wonder what she’s doing there now. With Rube, I mean. Isn’t she married?” Ross asked.

      Seth turned and continued walking in the direction of the house. Ross automatically moved into step beside him.

      “Divorced. She has an eleven-year-old son, Matthew.”

      Ross took his time digesting this news before he asked, “Well, did Rube give you any helpful information about Noah?”

      “Unfortunately no. Said he hadn’t seen the man in several years.”

      “Do you believe him?”

      Seth sighed. “I have no reason not to believe him. Yet.” He looked at his brother. “He seems to think your stallion is dead.”

      Ross snorted. “Hell, that old codger doesn’t know anything about Snip! Dad always said Rube knew a whole lot of nothing about a whole lot of subjects. You wasted your time going over there, brother.”

      Where the murder case was concerned, he probably had wasted time, Seth thought. But he’d seen Corrina again. A young woman he’d never quite been able to forget. He couldn’t count that as wasted time.

      The next morning, Jess called bright and early to warn Seth to get a horse saddled. The undersheriff was coming out to the ranch so that the two men could ride to the scene where the T Bar K hands had originally discovered Noah Rider’s remains.

      Since Jess was on duty and would be coming to the ranch in the capacity of undersheriff rather than as his brother-in-law, Seth couldn’t help but be a little concerned about throwing their investigative efforts together. He didn’t want Sheriff Perez to think he was trying to horn in on his business. And when Jess pulled up thirty minutes later to unload his own personal mount from a two-horse trailer, Seth was quick to convey his worries.

      “Jess, I told Victoria last night that I didn’t want to step on anyone’s toes. Does Sheriff Perez know you’re out here?”

      Jess led his big gray gelding to a nearby hitching post and loosely tied the reins. While he tossed the left stirrup upon the seat of the saddle and tightened the girth, he answered Seth’s question, “Of course. I told him.”

      “And you told him what we’re going to do?”

      Jess jerked the stirrup back in place before he looped a water canteen around the saddle horn. “He’s aware that you’ve come home to look into the matter of Noah Rider.” The undersheriff looked at Seth. “And frankly, he welcomes your help, Seth. We’re not exactly bogged down with homicides around here. In fact, they rarely occur. A few manslaughter cases from time to time, but nothing this cryptic. He understands you have years of experience with this type of thing and he also knows you won’t do anything that might compromise the case.”

      Seth felt both flattered and relieved. The last thing he wanted to do was push his nose into a place where he wasn’t welcome. “I’m relieved, and I’ll try not to make a nuisance of myself.”

      Chuckling, Jess shook his head. “If you only knew. Seth, the whole department is buzzing about having a Texas Ranger in the area. They see you as some mystical hero and they’d all like to meet you, they’re just too afraid to invite you to the office.”

      Seth laughed with disbelief as he propped his boot on the hitching rail and strapped on a gal-leg spur. “Jess, believe me, there’s nothing special about me. I’m just a lawman, that’s all. Just a Texas Ranger.”

      “Yeah,” Jess countered with mocking admiration. “You’re just a member of the oldest, most elite organization of lawmen in the United States. Hell, the Texas Rangers are even older than the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. You originated back in 1823, there’s only a hundred of you, and it’s damn hard to become one of those hundred. You have to be smart, strong and morally upright, among a lot of other things.”

      Seth lowered his boot to replace it with the other one. As he strapped on the opposite spur, he said, “That’s all true. But you’ve got to remember that we’re only men. We make mistakes. And we don’t solve every case that comes our way.”

      “Hmm. You can play modest, Seth, because that’s your nature. But you can’t fool me. You not only got into the Rangers, you’ve also moved up the ladder. That’s bound to make you feel good.”

      Seth did feel good about his job. Becoming a Ranger had been a dream he’d been fortunate enough to fulfill. Yet there were times when he was struck by the fact that his job was all he had in life. Like yesterday, when he’d seen Corrina standing with her son on Rube’s front porch. The woman was far from rich and he didn’t even know if she had a regular job, but she had someone who needed and loved her. She had someone to come home to.

      He glanced at the long, lean sheriff and gave him a wry smile. “No better than you must feel about being married to one of the most beautiful women in San Juan County.”

      Jess chuckled. “See, I knew you were a smart man.”

      The two men finished readying their mounts. Five minutes later they headed away from the ranch in a westerly direction through a flat mesa dotted with yucca, prickly pear and sage.

      For three miles, the landscape went unchanged until the mesa narrowed down to overlapping foothills shaded sparsely with piñon and ponderosa pine and a few stunted cottonwoods.

      Another mile passed as they began to climb to a higher elevation. As the trail grew steep and rough, the horses began to sweat and blow. Eventually they entered a dry wash with a graveled, rock-strewn bottom. Clear pools of water had collected in dished-out spots of the arroyo. Jess and Seth stopped their horses and allowed the animals to drink their fill.

      “What a hell of a place to commit murder,” Jess remarked as the two men looked around them.

      “Is this the place?” Seth asked.

      “Not far. Maybe a hundred more yards on up the arroyo. I’ll show you.”

      Once the horses finished drinking, Seth followed his brother-in-law through the steep, winding gorge. On either side, the tall walls were speckled with huge boulders, clumps of sage and ragged piñon. Here and there a twisted limb of juniper grew tenaciously between slabs of shale.

      Seth figured he’d been through this wash before. There wasn’t any part of the hundred-thousand-acre ranch that he hadn’t seen at least once in his young life. Yet he didn’t remember this particular area. Which wasn’t all that surprising, considering it had been years since he’d ridden on Ketchum land.

      In a matter of minutes, Jess pulled his gray horse to a stop and pointed to a spot in the bed of the wash where two flat rocks formed a vee at the base of a crooked tree trunk.

      “This is it,” Jess said. “Noah was on those rocks. Facedown. And, as you already know, there was one gunshot wound to his head.”

      As always when Seth looked at a crime scene, a grim resolution settled over him. “That’s a hell of a way to die,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “And I can tell you one thing, Jess, whoever committed the deed is going to pay and pay dearly.”

      “I hope you’re right, Seth. This murder thing has gotten everybody in the whole county jumpy. And after I was shot—well, we had all kinds of calls coming in to the department from people who were worried about their own safety.”

      “Where were you and Victoria when that happened?” Seth asked.

      Jess pointed to the ledge of