Brides The TEXAS
COLLECTION
9 Romances from the Old West
Brides The TEXAS
COLLECTION
DiAnn Mills, Kathleen Y’Barbo, Darlene Franklin, Darlene Mindrup, Tamela Hancock Murray, Lynette Sowell, Michelle Ule
A n Impr int of B ar bour P ublishing, Inc.
Serena’s Strength © 2001 by DiAnn Mills The Reluctant Fugitive © 2001 by Darlene Mindrup Saving Grace © 2001 by Kathleen Y’Barbo An Inconvenient Gamble © 2013 by Michelle Ule Angel in Disguise © 2013 by Darlene Franklin Reuben’s Atonement © 2006 by Lynette Sowell The Peacemaker © 2006 by DiAnn Mills Outlaw Sheriff © 2006 by Kathleen Y’Barbo A Gamble on Love © 2006 by Tamela Hancock Murray Print ISBN 978-1-68322-732-8 eBook Editions: Adobe Digital Edition (.epub) 978-1-62416-088-2 Kindle and MobiPocket Edition (.prc) 978-1-62416-087-5 All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted for commercial purposes, except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without written permission of the publisher. Scripture quotations marked KJV are taken from the King James Version of the Bible. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual people, organizations, and/or events is purely coincidental. Published by Barbour Books, an imprint of Barbour Publishing, Inc., 1810 Barbour Drive, Uhrichsville, Ohio 44683, www.barbourbooks.com Our mission is to inspire the world with the life-changing message of the Bible. Member of the
Evangelical Christian Publishers Association
Printed in the United States of America.
Contents Serena’s Strength by DiAnn Mills. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 7 The Reluctant Fugitive by Darlene Mindrup. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 55 Saving Grace by Kathleen Y’Barbo . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 103 An Inconvenient Gamble by Michelle Ule. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 149 Angel in Disguise by Darlene Franklin. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 205 Reuben’s Atonement by Lynette Sowell. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 249 The Peacemaker by DiAnn Mills . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 295 Outlaw Sheriff by Kathleen Y’Barbo. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 345 A Gamble on Love by Tamela Hancock Murray. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 393
SERENA’S STRENGTH by DiAnn Mills
Dedication To Troy and Barbi Tagliarino. Good friends are special gifts from God.
Chapter 1
San Antonio, Texas, 1841
S
erena Talbot lifted her gaze to the open road and waded a wooden spoon through thick venison stew, now bubbling over an open fire. From a distance, she heard the deep throaty laughter of her pa. “Serena, your pa’s riding in,” her ma called from the cabin. “Looks like Mr. Wilkinson is with him, too. They’re gonna want a cool drink of water.” “Yes, ma’am. I’ll draw a bucket now.” Standing, she wiped the perspiration from her reddened face with her soiled apron. Texas heat in midsummer proved unbearable, but at least the cooking could be done outside. Serena caught sight of the two men and waved. Snatching up the water bucket and ladle, she headed toward the well. Ranger Chet Wilkinson. She’d just been thinking about him. In fact, he occupied quite a bit of her thoughts lately. His smile, well, it seemed to take her breath away. Good thing Pa didn’t know her fancies. He’d be lecturing her about the wild ways of Texas Rangers. If Ma married a ranger, then why couldn’t she dream about one? But Pa knew the dangers of his rugged life and the hardships it placed on families. He didn’t want his daughter to suffer through the anguish of loving a man who risked his life each time he rode out. “Hey, Little One,” her pa said, “you cookin’ up something good? We smelled it five miles back.” Serena grinned at the rugged, broad-shouldered man. “You want to guess?” “Nope, it’s venison stew, and I could eat it all myself.” He rode his red dun mare alongside the well and rested on his saddle horn. “I think I could drink up that whole bucket of water, too.” “I’ll bring it to the barn as soon as I draw it up,” she said and turned her attention to Chet. “Evenin’, Mr. Wilkinson. We’re pleased you’re joining us for supper.” Chet’s lopsided smile sent her pulse racing faster than Pa’s prize mare. Even in the late afternoon with shadows of evening stealing across the sky, she could see his 9
THE TEXAS BRIDE COLLECTION pine green eyes peering out from under his weathered hat. Or maybe she simply envisioned them. Sometimes at night, when sleep evaded her, she wondered if those green pools ever searched her out as she did them. “I’d be much obliged, Miss Serena. I’m mighty hungry. Your pa hasn’t stopped riding since sunup.” A tousle of sun-colored hair fell across his forehead. Hard to believe his slight frame and boyish face followed the rough road of a Texas Ranger. “We have plenty cooked up, and Ma’s just made biscuits with fresh-churned butter.” “I’ll be hurrying along then,” Chet said with a nod. “Won’t take long to tend to the horses and wash up.” He’s too pretty for a Texas Ranger, she thought. After riding with Pa for over two years, he ought to be looking hard. Her pa reined his horse in the direction of the barn, and Chet followed. “Hurry on with the water, Little One,” Pa called over his shoulder. A moment later, she untied the rope around the bucket and dropped the ladle inside. The deep springs below their land—not far from the San Antonio River— hosted the clearest, coolest water around. At least that’s what Pa always said. “Serena, ask your pa if anyone else is expected for supper,” her ma said, stepping back inside the cabin. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll ask him now.” Serena noticed her ma had smoothed back her pecan-colored hair and changed her apron. Ma always fussed with her looks when Pa came home. Serena hoped someday to find a special love like her parents’. They’d been together since Pa rescued Ma from a renegade band of Comanches when she’d just turned sixteen years old. She glanced down at her worn green dress. At least she’d brushed through her hair before Pa and Chet rode up. Toting the heavy bucket, Serena slowly made her way to the barn. She’d given up on adding a little meat to her bones. Ma called her frail; Pa called her skinny. In any event, she still looked twelve years old instead of nearly eighteen. She had height, but no outward appearances of a woman’s figure. By the time Serena made it to the open barn door, her shoulder and arm throbbed. No one would ever hear of it, though. She felt determined to do her share of the work. With a sigh, she stepped into the barn, and her ears perked at the sound of men’s voices. “We ridin’ out again in the morning, Cap’n?” Chet asked. “The following morning,” her pa replied. He seldom talked much, seemed to be always thinking on something. She heard the whish-whish of the grooming brushes gliding across the horses’ sleek coats. Just as she decided to make herself known, Chet’s voice caused her to linger a moment longer. “You know, that little girl of yours is going to be a beautiful woman one day. Why, she’s right pretty,” Chet said. 10
SERENA’S STRENGTH A little girl, Serena fumed. Pa’s nickname coming from Chet’s lips didn’t sound at all endearing. “Well, I’d just as soon keep her around for a long spell. I ain’t in no hurry to have her married off.” Pa paused. “Leastways to no ranger. . .even one who carries a Bible in his saddlebag.” Pa, I’m a grown woman, she fumed. Chet had a reputation for being a Bibleprayin’ preacher man, another reason why he favored her attention. A man who loved the Lord and the Rangers ranked at the top of her list. “Yes, sir. I just meant for as young as Miss Serena is, she’s bound to be a pretty woman. But when I get ready to settle down, I want a round woman, real tall, too. Good and strong.” Silence. Serena sighed, realizing Pa had no intentions of telling Chet the truth about her age. Frustrated, she kicked the side of the barn to announce her arrival. Shortly thereafter, while inside the cabin and helping Ma finish supper, the matter still picked at her—like a whole patch of chiggers. “What’s wrong?” her ma asked, studying Serena with pale blue eyes. “You’ve been frettin’ over something since you came back from the barn.” “Oh, nothing,” Serena replied, pulling out tin mugs for the coffee. Her ma set a jar of apple butter on the rough-sawn table. “Serena, you can’t keep anything from me.” She gazed up into her ma’s flawless face. No hint of lines around her eyes or streaks of gray in her light brown hair. She looked young, too, but not as skinny as Serena. “Mr. Wilkinson thinks I’m a little girl.” Her ma glanced up, surprise clearly lacing her face. “And it bothers you?” Serena lifted her chin. “I’m a grown woman.” Her ma’s laughter rang about the kitchen. “That you are, and don’t you have a birthday coming up soon?” She gave Serena a hug, forcing a laugh from her. “Another month, and I’ll be eighteen. Ma, most girls, I mean women, my age are married with children of their own by now. Besides, any single men around here are afraid of Pa.” Ma crossed her arms over her chest. “Your pa does have a way of intimidating a body—especially if he thinks a man has his sights on you. Do you have someone in mind?” Her ma studied her curiously. “I haven’t heard you mention anyone.” Serena took a deep breath, but the door creaked open and Pa and Chet walked in. “I’ll go get the stew,” she offered and slipped out the door between the two men. When they all sat down to supper, Pa invited Chet to ask the blessing. Serena bowed her head and closed her eyes, eagerly anticipating Chet’s deep voice. No matter how hurt she felt, he did have a way of making prayers sound meaningful. “Thank You, Lord, for helping the cap’n and me get here safe. Thank You for this fine family and their hospitality. Mrs. Wilkinson and Serena have cooked up some good food, and we thank You for this and all of Your many blessings. In Jesus’ name, amen.” All during supper, Chet’s reference to Serena as a little girl bothered her. In fact, 11
THE TEXAS BRIDE COLLECTION he’d succeeded in making her downright mad. As she ate, she conjured up a good plan to let him learn the truth. “Would you like more coffee?” Serena asked her pa. He handed her his mug, and she rose from the table to fill it. “Pa, you know my birthday is coming up soon.” “Yes, Little One,” he replied, leaning back against his chair. “And I plan to be right here with you when it happens.” “Thank you. I was hoping you wouldn’t be gone. Do you mind if I ask Moira to join us for supper then? She is my dearest friend.” “Fine with me as long as it’s all right with your ma.” Her ma nodded approvingly. “Birthdays were always special to me when I was growing up,” Chet said, reaching for the jar of apple butter. “And this one is more than special to me,” Serena said, swallowing the irritation of Chet’s earlier remarks and tasting the sweetness of revenge—or rather nursing her pride. “How old you gonna be?” he asked, spooning a healthy dollop between the layers of a biscuit. “Oh, let me guess. I have a fifteen-year-old sister, so give me a moment to think on it.” He peered at her with a mischievous look in his eyes. “You might be surprised,” Pa said between mouthfuls of stew. Ma glanced curiously at Serena then picked up the basket of biscuits. “Have another, Chet. Might help your accuracy. Although I’ve been told never to question a woman’s age.” Serena cringed and her pulse quickened. Ma knew she pined over him. Hopefully, she wouldn’t tell Pa. Chet thanked her ma and gathered up two biscuits, adding a generous slab of butter to each. He popped one into his mouth and chewed slowly as if considering her reply. “Hmm. Since this one means a lot to you, I’m guessing. . .say thirteen.” Pa coughed and reached for his coffee. “Ah, Ranger Boy, you might want to rethink your answer.” He grinned, the same earth-shattering smile that always melted her heart. “Tell me, Miss Serena, how old will you be?” She allowed herself the privilege of hesitation before staring into his handsome face. “Eighteen.” Chet’s mouth flew agape, and he dropped his knife. “Why, why excuse me. I thought. . .” “Surprised?” Serena asked sweetly. His face looked as if he’d worked all day in the sun without his hat. From the corner of her eye, she saw Pa’s wry smile. Good, Pa isn’t mad at me. “Would you like to come to my birthday, Mr. Wilkinson? You’d probably like Moira. She’s a bit bigger than me, but the same age. Funny thing about Moira, she works hard as a man—strong, too.” 12
SERENA’S STRENGTH This time, Chet choked. He sputtered and reached for his empty tin of coffee. “Oh my, let me get you some water,” Serena said and scooted to the water bucket. For the first time she regretted embarrassing Chet. He looked miserable, and his face had reddened even more with the choking episode. There wasn’t as much joy in seeing him squirm as she originally thought. Perhaps she should ease out of the topic and let him regain his composure. For a moment she considered apologizing, but she didn’t want to own up to overhearing Chet and Pa. “Pa, I know what I’d like,” she said, handing Chet the water and avoiding his reddened stare. Her pa raised a brow. “The palomino mare of Dugan Niall’s?” “You mean it?” Her voice quivered in anticipation. A smile widened his dark bearded face. “Did you have something else in mind?” She slid onto the bench beside her ma, feeling her delight nearly burst. “I was going to ask for your old rifle, but. . .no, Mr. Niall’s horse is the finest gift anyone could ever want. Oh, Pa, thank you.” He pushed his plate back and rested his elbows on the table. “What do you say, Little One? Want to go pick up that palomino in the morning?” Serena did not hesitate. “Yes, sir, and I’ll fix you the best breakfast before we go.” He eyed Chet. “Why don’t you come with us?” He’d slowly begun to recover. “Dugan does have a good-looking stallion for sale. Yes, Cap’n, I’d like to ride along.” Pa pushed his chair back from the table, its legs scraping the floor. “Now, Serena, you owe Chet here an apology. No need to explain why. He’s our guest.”
13
Chapter 2
C
het felt hotter than if he’d been branded across his face with the letter S for stupid. The truth burned clear to the pit of his stomach—and worse yet, he deserved it. All of his big talk in the barn about James’s pretty “little girl” blared across his mind. No wonder Serena wanted to get even; she’d heard every word. Eighteen years old. Bewildered, he looked up into her angelic face. He’d landed in a heap of trouble with one skinny girl, rather woman. Oh, Lord, I need a muzzle over my mouth. Serena rose beside her ma from the bench and folded her hands at her waist. She brushed thick, black hair from her face. He inwardly grumbled why she didn’t wear it up. Maybe then he’d have guessed her right age. Eyes the color of nearly ripe blueberries gazed coldly into his. He saw a tint of anger, a mirror of pride masked behind softened features and pink cheeks. Yes, she did look young. . .and furious. Lifting her chin and wearing a sweet rosebud smile, Serena addressed him. “Mr. Wilkinson, I’m sorry for humiliating you. I don’t have an excuse except I heard you talking to Pa when I brought in the water. Will you forgive me?” She tilted her head like his little sister used to do when she needed understanding. “I know I didn’t behave like a Christian woman.” The word woman poured thick as honey from her lips, and the sound of it sent little prickles up and down his arms. He gulped and took a swallow of water. “Miss Serena, I most assuredly forgive you, but I believe the fault is mine. You can be sure I will address you in the future according to your. . .your rightful age.” He stuttered through the last of his speech as the proper words escaped him—something that seldom happened. “Thank you, Mr. Wilkinson. I appreciate your tolerance of my bad manners. Will you still be joining Pa and me in the morning?” He swallowed hard and attempted to gather his wits. “Yes, ma’am. I’d be honored.” Serena glanced at her pa, and he nodded his approval. She sat down to finish her meal, but Chet noticed she picked at her food. Odd, he didn’t feel so hungry anymore either. He sneaked a peek at James’s daughter. Yeah, she looked way too skinny for him, but she did have a right pretty face. 14
SERENA’S STRENGTH
k
Serena gave up trying to sleep. Chet’s words echoed through her mind like a herd of horses stampeding across the dry plains. He hadn’t noticed her as anything more than James Talbot’s little girl. Even worse, when he got ready to settle down, he wanted a big, strong woman. Humph, strength didn’t necessarily mean size. Hadn’t Pa taught her those things? Strength meant courage in the face of danger or when she needed to stand for her beliefs. It meant trusting God to see her through bad times and thinking things through with her head and heart—not her muscles. Just because she didn’t have much meat on her bones didn’t mean she lacked gumption. It would serve Ranger Chet just fine to saddle himself with some huge woman who’d run from her own shadow. Oh, Lord, could You make Chet see I’m strong enough to be a ranger’s wife? Amen. And Lord, You probably need to change Pa’s mind about me marrying up with a ranger. Tossing on the straw pallet in her tiny room, she heard Chet snoring in the kitchen. Good for him; glad he can sleep. She cast aside his dismissal of her and tried to convince herself he didn’t matter. But he did. Fighting the urge to cry, she focused on the following morning and Dugan Niall’s palomino. Staring up at the darkness, she couldn’t help but feel excitement about the mare. What a wonderful birthday present. She’d never dreamed of such a fine horse. Pa and the other rangers took special pride in their mounts. A good horse often meant the difference between living and dying. Although she treasured the love from Pa for his generous gift, it didn’t stop the ache in her heart for Chet. Serena finally found a few hours’ sleep before she woke to fix breakfast. Staring out the small window of her room, she saw a glaze of pink and gold ushering in the dawn. She quickly dressed, then remembered Chet was sleeping in the same room where she’d be cooking. She told herself she had nothing to be wary about. He had insulted her, not the other way around, and, besides, he didn’t know her feelings about him. Still, they were both bound to feel uncomfortable around each other, and Serena realized she needed to make things right. Stealing into the kitchen, Serena tied an apron twice around her waist. Someday she would pile enough weight on her bones to secure it in back like a normal woman. She studied Chet sleeping on the floor and struggled with wanting to kick him or allow him to rest peacefully. Pulling her gaze from the blanket-clad figure, she mentally calculated what she needed for breakfast. Due to the quickly rising temperatures, she welcomed the task of frying bacon, baking biscuits, and boiling coffee outside over an open fire. They might eat there, too, which would be a refreshing way to start the day. On second thought, Pa shared enough meals under an open sky. He’d prefer sitting around the table inside. After all, she’d promised him a good breakfast. The idea of eggs floating in a pool of bacon grease would be an added treat, and 15
THE TEXAS BRIDE COLLECTION the chickens had been laying good. Ma told her she could use all of the eggs she wanted. Grinning with satisfaction, Serena collected matches, the coffeepot, and the empty water bucket before moving outside to gather dry wood. Not long afterwards, a fire crackled and spit. She loved the smell of wood burning and the sight of sunrise faintly splitting the darkness. A rooster perched on the well top and crowed. He peered about as if to make sure every living creature had heard him. Serena laughed as the birds seemed to sing a little louder in answer to the rooster’s call. A trip into the cabin produced a skillet filled with thick slices of bacon and peeled potatoes ready for her to slice into a second skillet. She’d already mixed up the biscuit dough and silently kneaded it before cutting the huge rounds. “Can I help you, Miss Serena?” Chet whispered from his position on the floor. “No, thank you, I’m fine,” she replied in the same soft tone and immediately felt her heart race with the low sound of his voice. “Sorry to wake you.” “I’ve been awake. Hard to sleep in when you’re used to rising before dawn.” She said nothing else but took the bacon-filled skillet outside, knowing she’d be back inside the cabin at least two more times to bring out the other skillet and biscuits. While at the fire, Serena checked the coffeepot and inhaled the aroma of freshly ground coffee. “Here, I brought these for you,” came a voice from behind her. Startled, she whirled around to see Chet carrying the other items she needed. “How nice of you,” she said and smoothed her apron before taking the skillet and the pan of biscuit dough. He stood barefooted with his suspenders resting haphazardly on his shoulders, and he’d buttoned his yellowed white shirt wrong with something bulging at his heart. His sun-colored hair lay every which way but flat against his head, more like a boy than a grown man. A second later, his dimpled smile gripped her senses. It ought to be a sin for a man to affect a woman so. Embarrassed and grateful for the dim light, she pulled a paring knife from her apron pocket to slice the potatoes. “Sure I can’t help?” “You can eat later,” she said, “and maybe have a little coffee now.” Chet produced a tin mug from inside his shirt. “I hoped you had it ready. Can I sit and talk a spell?” “Of course.” While he settled down into the dew-covered grass and leaned back on his hands, she prepared her words. “Mr. Wilkinson—” “Chet. My friends call me by my given name.” She took a ragged breath. “All right, Chet. I did a bad thing to you last night, and I am truly sorry.” “Naw, it’s me who wronged you.” He shook his head. “Funny how a man can earn a reputation as a Texas Ranger or a preachin’ ranger or a big talker and still make a fool out of himself in front of a woman. Leastways, I never meant to hurt your feelings.” 16
SERENA’S STRENGTH “I know.” “So can we go back to being friends?” How could she refuse? Masking her sinking spirits with a flair for teasing, she eyed him suspiciously. “Aren’t you afraid I might poison your coffee?” “Would you do that to me?” She lifted the pot from the fire, and he held out his mug. “A skinny little girl like me has to fight back any way she can.” He grinned and it eased her ruffled feelings. She slid the coffeepot back onto the burning embers. “You know what Pa used to tell me?” she asked, poking at the fire with a thick stick and sending sparks into the slowly lifting blanket of night. “Hard to tell with the cap’n.” “He told me if Indians attacked the cabin while he was gone, that I could hide myself behind a fence post.” Chet laughed heartily. At least she could lighten his morning with a little humor. “Be back in a minute. Got to get my eggs.” Serena headed toward the cabin. “I can tote ’em out here for you,” he called after her. “No, sir. I don’t want them broke before I fry them.” He chuckled, and she felt better since supper the night before. A lot of truth in freeing a body from sin. Inside, Serena found Ma bustling about the kitchen, placing plates and cups on the table. She stopped and watched Serena. “Honey, you don’t need to be fixing breakfast all by yourself.” “I told Pa I wanted to last night.” “I know, but I slept a mite longer than I intended.” “Good,” Serena said. “You don’t rest well when Pa’s gone.” She picked up the egg basket along with a platter to pile on the meat and eggs. “Serena?” Her questioning voice sounded soft and tender. She glanced up into Ma’s face in reply. “Why didn’t you tell me you had feelings for Chet?” she asked, placing a hand on Serena’s shoulder. Avoiding Ma’s eyes, she shrugged. “Seemed like a secret thing, and I needed to keep it to myself.” “But we’ve always been able to talk.” For a moment, Serena felt like releasing all of her pent-up emotions in her mother’s arms. “I didn’t mean to hold anything from you. It just seemed too personal to tell anyone—not Moira or even you.” “Can we talk after he and your pa leave?” Serena felt unsure of her answer. Talking about it wouldn’t change a thing. “Are you going to tell Pa?” “Not unless he asks, and he’s said nary a word.” She offered a smile, and Serena returned the gesture. “Certain things only a woman can know.” Only a woman can know. She spoke the right words. “All right, Ma. We can talk.” 17
THE TEXAS BRIDE COLLECTION Serena turned and opened the door. She gasped. In the pale daylight, a huge, wild boar stood between Chet and the cabin. Instantly, she set the basket of eggs and the platter on the rough-sawn table and reached for Pa’s rifle leaning against the fireplace. Pulling it up to her shoulder, she rushed outside. “James, come quick,” her ma said. “Serena, wait on your pa.” Chet waved his hands above his head. “Serena, don’t come any closer. It’ll tear you apart.” Ignoring first her ma’s warnings and now Chet’s, she knew exactly what to do. Suddenly, the boar took an unexpected turn in her direction and barreled forward.
18
Chapter 3
T
he boar raced straight toward her. Serena faintly heard her mother’s cries and another shout from Chet, but she had her focus dead center between the animal’s eyes. She squeezed the trigger. Rifle fire echoed and the boar fell six feet in front of her in a puddle of blood. Instantly, Chet stood by her side, clearly amazed. “You got him right square between the eyes.” His face had paled, and he looked a bit angry. Serena blinked. “I know. That’s where I aimed.” He poked the boar with his boot. “Who taught you to shoot like this?” “I did,” James boomed from the doorway of the cabin. “Good shot, Serena. You didn’t flinch once.” Serena beamed. “Thanks, Pa. I tried to remember everything you taught me, but it took me by surprise when it barged forward.” “Couldn’t have handled it better myself.” She adored her father’s praise. “You hungry? I just about have breakfast ready.” “Nigh starved,” her pa replied. A grin spread across his full face, as he wrapped his arms around Ma’s waist. Serena glanced at her ma, trembling beneath Pa’s firm hold. Her grim expression left no question as to the fear she’d felt. “She’s fine,” Pa said, obviously realizing Ma’s apprehension. “She can handle a rifle better than most men.” Ma nodded and sniffed, blinking back tears. “There’s a few things about our daughter, James Talbot, that I wish she hadn’t gotten from you.” Chet cleared his throat. “Ma’am, I can understand your fright, but I’m glad she has her pa’s eye and smooth pull on the trigger. Thank you, Miss Serena. I’ve been in a lot of dangerous places, but taking on a boar didn’t rank among them. Praise God for your shootin’.” His words broke the tension flaring around them, and Ma laughed and cried at the same time. “I’ll get this overgrown pig out of the way so we can eat,” Pa said. He released her ma and walked toward the dead animal, passing along a wink to Serena. She handed his rifle to him, and he squeezed her hand. Fighting the urge to take a quick glimpse at Chet, she moved toward her ma, still quivering in the doorway. 19
THE TEXAS BRIDE COLLECTION They held each other without uttering a word. Ma had been right; certain things only a woman could know, and Serena had just earned a note of admiration from Chet. Once breakfast and chores were completed, Serena rode with Pa and Chet to Dugan Niall’s. She felt completely immersed in the hill country around them—the cedars dressed in blue-green leaves and gnarly post oaks with an occasional mesquite tree. She admired patches of orange trumpet-shaped wildflowers, purple wide-leafed petals, and a host of yellow beauties. She listened to the singing insects and calling mockingbirds as they offered their lulling songs, but Serena knew the dangers of the land—more powerful than any wild animal. Three races of proud people claimed Texas: the Mexicans, despite the war for independence; the Apache and Comanche Indians; and the proud Texans. She’d long ago decided whoever fought the hardest would have the vast land. Pa told her once if he’d been Mexican, he’d be fighting for them, and if he’d been born an Indian, he’d be warring alongside the red man. Lucky for Texas, James Talbot was a white man and believed in the Rangers. “God did a pretty good job out here,” Chet said, squinting as he stared up at a robin’s-egg-colored sky. “No wonder the land’s restless; everyone wants a piece of it.” “No matter the cost,” Pa said. “He made Texas for those willing to die for it—or defend it like we do.” “Some folks claim we rangers are of the devil,” Chet said, “but they sure call us angels when there’s trouble.” Pa chuckled. “ ’Cause we aren’t afraid of anything—leastways, nothing we show. The only thing I hate is leaving my family so much. Guess I’m lucky Rachel knew my commitment to the Texas Rangers when we met. Sometimes it’s right hard to push thoughts of her and Serena away when we’re in the thick of things.” He lowered his gaze at Chet. “You listen to me, now. God’s done me a fair amount of blessings, but this is a life for a single man. Your head can’t be clouded with anything but the job at hand.” Serena listened intently. Pa seldom talked so freely, and she knew every word meant something important. The only thing was she didn’t like what he had to say. Oh, he spoke the truth about wits and clearheaded thinking keeping the rangers alive and winning, but the yearning in her heart for Chet couldn’t subside so easily. If Chet ever decided to look her way, he’d have to deal with Pa. Some said the devil could be more obliging than James Talbot when he was riled. Lord, if me and Chet are supposed to be together, then let it happen. I’m already a Texas Ranger’s daughter, and I can be a good ranger’s wife. With Your help he could be right proud of me. Dugan Niall met them as they rode up. He grinned from ear to ear. Most likely he anticipated the sale of his palomino and a stallion to Chet. Moira accompanied him along with a dozen other rusty-headed siblings. “Aye, James, Chet, and Serena. Ya do me pleasure by stoppin’ by. Is it the palomino you came for?” Dugan’s Irish brogue sounded musical, and his wild, fiery-red 20
SERENA’S STRENGTH hair and beard were a colorful match to his character. “We sure are,” her pa replied, lifting his hat and wiping the perspiration from his brow. “I want to give the mare to Serena before her birthday.” He waved at the Niall clan. “Mornin’, all you rooster tails.” They loved Pa’s teasing and greeted him all at once. Dugan’s eyes twinkled, and he laughed till his round belly jiggled beneath his suspenders. “And you, Chet, do ya still have an eye for me stallion?” “I’m just looking today, but I’m looking hard.” Dugan’s mirth roared above the treetops. “First let’s have some coffee. Me wife has just made a fresh pot.” Serena and Moira stayed outside, knowing the men would be talking awhile. The two walked to the corral, where a half dozen fine horses grazed. “Why’s Mr. Wilkinson with you?” Moira asked, her brown eyes dancing. “He and Pa are riding out in the morning,” Serena replied, hoping her friend thought Chet’s presence meant nothing to her. “He’s a mighty handsome man,” Moira continued, her gaze lingering on the cabin door then back to the horses. “I’d give anything to have hair as yellow as his.” Serena frowned. “Your pa would skin you alive if he knew you were contemplating a ranger.” “Yours, too. But they’re right. Rangers live too hard a life for us. Besides. . .” She clasped her hands behind the back of her green print dress and teetered on her heels. “Besides what?” Serena asked, feeling a giggle rise in her throat. “Aaron Kent’s been calling.” Clasping her hand to her mouth, Serena tried to stifle her enthusiasm. “Since when? How long has this been going on?” Aaron Kent had been widowed about a year, and he had two small young’uns to raise. “Three times now—and I’m not saying another word.” Serena couldn’t help but laugh at her friend’s serious face—the same round face as her pa’s, beautiful skin, and huge brown eyes. “Oh, you have never been able to keep secrets from me. And Aaron Kent is a good man, Moira, and easy to look at.” Moira blushed from her neck to her eyes. “He wants to talk to Pa.” The two girls hugged and, with no one in earshot, began to plan Moira’s wedding. An hour later, Dugan and Chet settled on a price for a chestnut stallion to be picked up after the ranger’s next pay, and Serena rode her palomino home. Pa paid a fine price for the mare, and the horse acted frisky enough to please Serena. She patted the mare on its neck. “Pa, I know I said this before, but I really appreciate this horse. I’ll take good care of her.” His dark blue eyes peered into hers. “I know you will. That’s why she’s yours.” Serena treasured the proud look in her pa’s eyes. As a little girl, she’d lived for his special look and smile meant only for her. Now, she wished Chet would show some kind of affection. Certainly, she wouldn’t have to save him from a wild boar again to get him to notice her. 21
THE TEXAS BRIDE COLLECTION
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Chet shifted uncomfortably in the saddle. James’s little girl had gotten under his skin. First she surprised him with her age, next she shot a charging boar between the eyes without a flinch, and now she handled Dugan’s newly broke mare like she’d been born in the saddle. Why hadn’t he noticed these things before? It rightly embarrassed him. He needed to have shown a little more foresight or at least paid more attention to the Talbot household. A Texas Ranger prided himself in his good judgment and intelligence. Many times he’d heard a good ranger needed to ride like a Mexican, trail like an Indian, shoot like a Tennessean, and fight like a devil. Nothing was ever said about sense with a woman. Good thing only the Lord knew his thoughts. Ever since he learned about Serena’s age, being around her made him feel rather peculiar, and today he found himself admiring her spunk. Of course, being the only child of James Talbot meant she knew how to handle herself like a man. He should have figured that out when he noticed she refused to use a sidesaddle. Scary thought when Chet had already angered her the night before. He glanced her way, not really meaning to, and she smiled back at him. Her innocent look made his toes numb, and a chill raced up his spine. He’d never reacted like this to anything in his whole life. . .until now. How many times had he thanked God for giving him a steady hand and a clear head? He prayed every time a bullet or arrow whizzed by without so much as piercing his clothes. Those qualities, vital to a ranger’s way of life, kept him alive and able to defend his beloved Republic. In addition, he owed his life here and in eternity to the Lord. Jesus rode with him everywhere he went, guiding and giving him courage to complete the task of defending the people of Texas. Chet prayed and studied God’s Word every day of his life. He’d learned life didn’t always happen like he figured, but he couldn’t dwell on it. A man had to wait until the smoke cleared and see how God worked. He’d learned to expect the impossible and not flinch when trouble came knocking. But nothing had prepared him for these new findings about Miss Serena Talbot. The little lady kept amazing him everywhere he turned. God must be chastising him for his prideful talk when he hurt Serena’s feelings. Well, he’d never do it again. This strange feeling unnerved him. “Pa, where are you headed tomorrow?” Serena asked, breaking the silence. “Rio Grande,” he said with no emotion creasing his rugged, lined face. “How long are you going to be gone?” She knew Mexico and Texas were in heavy dispute over the border. The Republic claimed the Rio Grande, but Mexico insisted on the Nueces River. “Couple of weeks, Little One. I plan to be back for your birthday.” Serena sighed. “It’s not my birthday bothering me.” “I know.” He sounded tired. “I’m not complaining, Pa. I just love you.” Chet felt as though he shouldn’t be hearing James and Serena’s conversation. 22
SERENA’S STRENGTH Rather too personal for his liking. “Oh, if God would only let peace come to Texas,” she said with a sigh. “Can you imagine Indians, Mexicans, and Texans all getting along like friendly neighbors? I mean, I know the Tonkawas, Choctaws, and Delaware sometimes scout for you.” Her pa nodded with a grim smile. “We’ve had some real good Mexicans help us out, too.” “But I’m dreaming and talking like a child. As long as men walk the face of the earth, there will be war,” she said. “And I do respect your commitment to Texas.” Her pa cleared his throat. “It doesn’t matter who’s threatening the lives of folks, they have to be stopped. If the Rangers don’t step in, the innocent will die.” “I understand, Pa, I really do.” Serena said nothing for a few minutes, then asked, “Do you believe we’ll one day be a state?” Her pa shook his head. “Hard to say. A lot of folks would like to think so.” “What would happen to the Rangers then?” she asked. He chuckled. “Chet, you answer that one.” Serena turned in the saddle, her deep blue eyes penetrating his soul—trusting and seeking an answer. Suddenly, Chet couldn’t remember his own name.
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Chapter 4
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ames slowed his horse to keep pace with Chet. The older man peered into his face. “Didn’t you hear me?” he asked. Again, Chet felt color burn his skin. “Ah, I reckon my mind went to wandering.” Why did the cap’n have that angry glint in his eye? James chewed on his lower lip, a sign indicating he contemplated a serious matter. “Serena wondered what might happen to the Rangers if Texas became a state.” Chet swallowed. He sure didn’t like the hard look on James’s face. He must have riled him, except the cap’n didn’t get provoked too easily. “Hard to say,” Chet began, determined to give the popular subject his best. “Statehood might be fine enough, but I don’t think we’d get along with the army—have a hard enough time with the Republic’s army. Too many rituals and regulations for me. I don’t see any purpose in wearing uniforms or keeping my boots and buttons polished. And I couldn’t ever take orders from a man I hadn’t ridden with. Texas Rangers earn their rank by showing they have guts and use their heads. I can’t respect a man simply ’cause he wears a fancy uniform.” Serena turned in the saddle to address him. The late morning sunlight fairly glistened in her dark hair, giving it a copper cast. “So do you think Texas could get along without the Rangers?” “Texas will always need rangers,” he said, sitting straighter in the saddle. “I guarantee you the US Army or our Republic’s army would not consider any fighting without first sending us to clear the way.” She smiled, and he noticed her sparkling white teeth. “Thank you, Chet. I agree with you. Nobody can keep us safe like the Rangers.” She reverted her gaze back to the path ahead, leaving him feeling plumb foolish. And he had no idea why. “You and me need to talk,” the cap’n said under his breath. He spurred his horse forward to ride alongside his daughter, leaving Chet short of bewildered.
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Serena wondered what she’d said to embarrass him. He looked akin to a ripe tomato. Then she had a thought. He must be sweet on Moira and seeing her must have gotten him flustered. Serena supposed it didn’t help matters any with her bold statement about him probably liking Moira. Her dear friend filled his requirements and looked comely, too. 24
SERENA’S STRENGTH Pa had picked up on Chet’s discomfort. Of course, Pa had a way of knowing what people were thinking long before they said a word. A knot settled in Serena’s throat. If Chet had eyes for Moira, Serena might as well forget anything ever blossoming between them. Her sweet friend would make a good wife. But. . .Moira said Aaron Kent had come calling, and she’d rambled on and on about him. Surely she’d rather have Aaron than Chet. At least the widower didn’t live a dangerous life. Good thing she hadn’t shared her dreams with Moira, especially with Chet possibly interested in the pretty redhead. Lord, help me not to be selfish and jealous. I know I’ve given this to You, but it doesn’t help this ache in my heart. Maybe she did need to talk to Ma about Chet. Like Ma had said, some things only a woman understood. By the time the three made it back to the cabin, Ma had a noonday meal almost ready for them. She’d pulled one of the hams from the smokehouse and cooked it with a bunch of fresh green beans. Ears of buttered corn boiled on the fire with a pan of corn bread baking beside the pot. Ma always cooked hearty meals when Pa came home. Outside the barn, Ma admired Serena’s palomino. She patted the mare’s neck and let it nuzzle against her. “Beautiful horse. No wonder your pa had to have it for you. Have you a name for her yet?” Truthfully, Serena had been thinking on it. “I like the name Fawn. The palomino’s color puts me in mind of a baby deer.” “Sounds real fitting,” her ma replied, giving the mare another pat, “and I don’t recollect hearing a horse called by that name before.” “Would you like to go riding tomorrow evening?” Serena asked. “Yes, I believe I would. Might be nice after your pa’s gone.” Pa leaned up close to Ma and kissed her on the cheek. Tears welled in her pale blue eyes, a sadness seen much too often. Serena felt compassion wash over her. For a brief moment she asked herself if she really wanted the same heartache and separation in her life. “Let me finish in the house,” Serena said, gathering up her skirt. “I’ve had Pa to myself all morning, and now it’s your turn.” Pa took Fawn’s reins, and she left her parents to a few stolen moments alone. Chet tied his horse to a post and wordlessly followed Serena inside. “Shall I tie an apron on you?” she teased. Odd, he looked uneasy. “Something ailing you, Chet?” “No, nothing.” He looked like a bull calf at a quilting bee. “Why don’t you sit down while I finish here?” She went about her business, trying to shake herself of his disturbing presence. What had happened to the freetalking ranger she’d known and grown to care about for the past two years? Once Chet eased down onto a chair at the table and removed his hat, she ladled him a tall mug of water. He murmured his thanks and watched while she placed butter, dewberry preserves, and sliced tomatoes on the table. All the while, his 25