Texas Heart
Ruth Langan
About the Author
A high school honours student who wrote for the school paper and was editor of the yearbook, Ruth was awarded a full scholarship to college, where she hoped to pursue an English degree.
Her plans were changed, however, because of financial conditions, and she joined the workforce, becoming a secretary to the vice president of a large corporation.
Ruth Ryan Langan married her childhood sweetheart, Tom, and together they have raised five children. Avid travellers and sports enthusiasts, Ruth and her family enjoy bowling, golfing, skiing, and swimming. Along with her husband, Ruth jogs several miles each day (to get away from the word processor).
Ruth's writing career began when she gave a very special birthday present to herself. Her gift was an hour a day to pursue her writing. Soon she was a published novelist.
She says of her career, "The greatest reward for a writer is having someone say "I loved your book." These simple words make all the hours of writing worthwhile."
Ruth is co-founder and past treasurer of the Greater Detroit Chapter of Romance Writers of America, as well as a charter member of the national organization of Romance Writers of America, the Detroit Women Writers, Novelists, Inc., and Sisters in Crime.
In addition, Ruth has coscripted with Marianne Willman and Jan Greenberg, four original screenplays, one of which, Pendulum, is contemporary, and three of which are historical in nature. Ruth has also completed a children's book, which features illustrations by her daughter-in-law Patty Langan.
To my family, those wonderful characters, who enrich my life.
To my aunt, Ella Quinn, world's greatest cook, who, at my wedding, was asked to duplicate the miracle of the loaves and fishes.
And especially to Tom, always Tom, the main character in my life, who makes it all tim.
First published in Great Britain 1999
©Ruth Ryan Langan 1989 ISBN 0 263 81659 1
Chapter One
Texas August, 1870 “There's forty dollars here. Enough to see you through the next two or three months.”
Jessie Conway carefully folded the bills and squeezed them through the narrow opening of the biscuit tin before placing it on a shelf.
She turned toward the older of her two brothers, fourteen-year-old Danny, who was already inches taller than she was at seventeen, and continued.
"I checked all the corral fences. They're sturdy enough to hold the horses. But just to make sure, you'd better check them at least once a week."
Hearing his sigh of impatience, she added, "And don't forget to milk the cow every night. You and Thad need the milk. It'll come in handy if you run short of supplies. Speaking of which..."
She saw Danny roll his eyes and started talking faster.
"If you have to go into town for supplies, don't let anyone know you're out here all alone. Just act like I'm busy with the ranch chores. And try to talk old Mr. Thompson into allowing you to take some food on credit. That way, you'll have this money in case I..."
Her voice trailed off.
Danny swallowed.
She was thinking the same thing he was.
What if she never made it back?
Like Pa.
Then there'd be just him and Thad.
He felt a surge of panic.
"I want to go with you, Jess."
"You can't. Someone has to stay here with Thad."
" We'll take him along."
She glanced at their seven-year-old brother and, seeing the wide eyes so filled with fear, forced her voice to a low, soothing tone.
"Pa could be anywhere from here to Abilene. That's almost six hundred miles. We can't take a little kid that far."
"I could do it," Thad chirped.
"Pa said I'm the best rider he's ever taught. A real natural, Pa said."
Jessie dropped to her knees and drew her little brother into the circle of her arms, "I know, Tadpole. You're the best I've ever seen, too.
But I can travel twice as fast alone. And it'll give me peace of mind to know you two are safe at home."
Home.
Danny's eyes narrowed.
This dirt-poor piece of land on the banks of the Rio Grande would never be home, not after the way it had slowly killed his ma.
Danny studied the two of them his older sister, his little brother.
Both had hair the color of ripe Wheat, eyes as blue as the Texas sky.
Even though Jessie was the oldest, she was inches smaller than him and reed thin.
Instead of wearing Ma's cast-off dresses like a lady, she wore a pair of Danny's britches tucked into her boots and a rough woolen shirt with the sleeves rolled above her elbows.
Of the three of them, she was the most like Pa.
If Danny had to use one word to describe his sister, it would be stubborn.
Ever since she'd made up her mind that Pa wasn't coming back, she'd been making plans to go find him.
Stubborn.
Like Pa.
And tough.
He remembered when their ma had died right after Thad was born.
Their pa had suggested maybe the three kids should go East to live with an aunt.
Danny had thought it would be great living in a real house instead of this sod shack, and going to school with other kids.
But Jessie had lifted the squalling baby from the cradle and fashioned a bottle out of an old glove and cow's milk.
And she'd said she wasn't leaving.
This was her land now.
Hers and Pa's.
And though the work had nearly killed her, Jessie kept the place going just the way Ma had.
He glanced around the neat sod shack.
There was a sturdy wooden table and four rough-hewn chairs.
In the center of the table was a crocheted doily their grandmother had made before any of them was born.
Over their beds of straw were colorfully woven afghans which their ma and Jessie had made years ago.
Though they were worn and faded, they were clean.
And though their meals weren't nearly as tasty as when Ma was alive, Jessie always found time to feed them no matter how tired she was after a day tending the cattle.
And now she was determined to have her way again.
Pa had joined up with a cattle drive three months ago.
The boss of the drive had convinced him that it was safer to join his herd with a big drive that would offer protection against Indian attacks, cattle rustling and the dozens of other things that could go wrong on a trek across Texas and Indian Territory all the way to the stockyards at Abilene, Kansas.
Six hundred miles.
The pay for a drive was enough to stake a man for a year if he was careful.
But Pa should have been back weeks ago.
And every day as she scanned the horizon, Jessie had grown more and more impatient.
Nothing, she insisted, would keep Pa away from home this long unless he was in trouble.
Or dead.
Danny shivered.
Either way, she had to find out, and that meant a journey across Texas.
Someone, somewhere, would know about Pa.
"You're making a mistake, Jess. You're just going to end up the same as Pa."
She whirled on Danny, eyes blazing.
"Pa's fine. He just got sidetracked."
Lowering her voice, she reached out and touched her brother's arm, feeling the beginnings of muscles beneath the flesh.
Sometimes she was amazed at how much he'd grown.
In no time, she knew he'd be ready to fill their pa's shoes.
Only now he was going to have to be a man sooner than nature had planned.
"I have to do this, Danny."
; Pale green eyes, the color of their mother's, stared unblinkingly into Jessie's.
"I know."
She smiled and hugged him hard and fast.
"Take good care of Thad. I'll be back. Promise."
He returned the hug awkwardly and turned away.
Jessie opened her arms to her little brother and drew him close for a last kiss.
"Be sure to help Danny. Stay close to the house."
She cradled his face between her hands, memorizing the slope of his brow, the upward curve of his lips.
"Say your prayers, Tadpole."
"I will, Jessie."
She tucked the cloud of yellow hair beneath a broad-brimmed hat and picked up the pitifully small bundle she had packed.
It was her intention to travel fast and light.
She crossed the dusty patch of earth and pulled herself into the saddle.
"Wait. Jess. You'll need this."
Danny ran toward her, holding out a heavy sheepskin-lined jacket.
Since their pa had brought it back from Abilene after a successful cattle drive two years ago, it had been Danny's most prized possession.
"It gets cold at night," he said simply, pressing it into her hands.
Jessie swallowed down the lump that threatened to choke her.
"Thanks, Danny. I'll bring it back soon."
"Yeah."
She watched as he stepped back and put his arm around their little brother.
Jessie dug in her heels and felt her eyes sting as the horse's hooves sent up a cloud of dust.
As her mount crested a hill, she turned for one last glimpse of home.
Damned dust, she thought, wiping the back of her hand across her cheeks.
It always made her eyes water.
Cole Matthews reined in his horse and studied the barren hills.
His grim odyssey had already carried him from San Antonio to the Mexican border.
Now it looked as if the trail was leading him back across Texas once more.
He was saddle weary, but the anger simmering inside him spurred him on.
There was no way he would ever turn back.
Or give up.
He'd become a skilled hunter.
And the bounty he sought was not animal.
It was man.
He never allowed himself to think about what he'd left behind.
The only soft bed he'd enjoyed recently was an occasional room above a saloon when he allowed himself a night's respite.
Though he stopped at every town and settlement, he rarely stayed longer than it took to look over the strangers in the saloon or their mounts in the local stable.
Cole lifted his hat from his head and wiped the sweat from his brow.
Daylight had already faded, and he'd been on the trail since before sunup.
After a careful check of the area, he chose a well-protected spot to make camp.
Jessie stayed clear of the little settlement not far from her ranch, knowing her presence would cause speculation about where she was going and for how long.
If the wrong kind of people knew she was gone, they might try to help themselves to the small herd left grazing on her land.
Pa said the best kind of friends to have were no friends at all.
That way there'd be no one to take advantage of your good nature.
Jessie wasn't at all sure she agreed with Pa on that, but she had no way of knowing.
In their isolation, there'd been few chances to make friends.
Her ma had spoken lovingly of their friends back in Missouri, before Pa had gotten the urge to head West.
There'd been a church, Ma said, and Sunday afternoon picnics.
But when Jessie thought about those things at all, she thought they were like the stories in Ma's books.
In books, all the ladies wore beautiful dresses, and the men were all smooth-shaven and handsome.
And they made each other feel strange but good somehow.
Ma and Pa had been that way with each other.
She remembered Ma blushing, and Pa laughing deep in his throat.
And she'd heard them whispering together long after she should have been asleep.
But now all Pa seemed to do was work.
And sometimes get drunk on Saturday night and stay in town until dawn.
And when he came home, he'd be whistling for a while, and then he'd go back to working around the ranch, cursing the heat and the dust and the cattle.
For the most part, Pa had become a loner.
She shivered and drew on the heavy jacket Danny had given her.
Danny.
He'd do just fine alone with Thad.
He was a good boy, strong and sensible even if he had inherited more of his ma's traits than Pa's.
He was dreamy, always reading to her from Ma's books.
And sometimes when he dropped exhausted into his bed at night, Jessie would find herself wondering what his life would be like if he could go East and study medicine like he wanted.
Dr. Conway.
The words made her smile.
What would little Thad be, she wondered, if he could go East and study, too?
A lawyer maybe.
Then they'd have a doctor and a lawyer.
Now all they would need was an Indian chief.
Her smile faded.
There were plenty of them here in Texas.
And one in particular had made it plain to Pa that he was interested in his golden-haired daughter.
Pa had always said that when the time came, he'd find her a good husband.
But Jessie wasn't interested even though she was way past the age of marrying.
Hadn't her ma married Pa when she was only fourteen?
Jessie hunched deeper into the parka and slowed the horse to a walk.
The shadows had lengthened until it was almost impossible to see more than a foot ahead of her.
She'd have to stop soon and make camp.
What were Danny and Thad doing right now?
She smiled in the darkness and pictured in her mind the little sod shack with its cheery fire.
She'd left enough rabbit stew to last a week or more.
Her stomach rumbled, and she thought about the meager supplies she'd allowed herself to carry.
She hadn't eaten since she left home nearly ten hours earlier.
The sound of a twig snapping nearby brought her out of her reverie.
Automatically her hand went to the gun in her belt.
"Who's there?"
A man's voice called out in the night.
She swallowed and cursed herself for her carelessness.
While she was daydreaming, she'd gotten too close to someone's camp.
Drawing the brim of her hat low on her forehead, she gripped the bulky jacket around her to hide the soft curves that would reveal her gender.
Though she'd never been with a man, she knew what could happen to an unprotected woman in this tough land.
Her voice was naturally low.
Fear now made it husky.
"A rider," she said softly.
She heard the click of a rifle.
"Come into the light-where I can see you."
Before she could dig her heels into the horse's side and make a run for safety, a hand shot out in the darkness, gripping the bridle.
"Going somewhere?"
She ran a tongue over dry lips.
"I don't want to bother you. I'll just go on about my business."
"And what is your business?"
The man was tall, with dark hair that hung to his shoulders.
"I'm heading for Abilene."
"Abilene."
He was studying her closely.
Too closely.
"Where's your herd?"
"I'm joining a herd already on the trail."
She lowered her head, avoiding his eyes.
"You may as well share our camp fire."
Still holding the reins, he led her toward the light, w
here three other men were now standing.
roma of boiling coffee was strong, and Jessie noted the remains of dinner still giving off steam on tin plates.
"Didn't mean to interrupt your meal," she said.
"Go on eating."
"I've had enough."
The man holding the rifle stepped closer.
"What I'd really like now is some good whiskey and a wicked woman."
The others laughed.
"What's your name?" the tall man asked.
"Jess. Jess Conway."
"Set a spell."
With one man holding her reins and the other aiming a rifle at her, Jessie had no choice.
Easing from the saddle, she slid to the ground and wished she was taller.
"What are you going to do in Abilene, boy?"
one of the others asked.
She relaxed a bit.
She'd managed to fool them.
"Joining a cattle drive.
Got to earn enough to see me through the winter.
The man holding her reins led her horse away and tied it.
When he returned, one of the other men had positioned himself behind her.
She turned slightly, keeping him in sight while still watching the one with the rifle.
The man with the long hair grinned, revealing yellow teeth.
"A cattle drive. Now that's a real hoot."
His voice lowered.
"Funny thing. I can smell a woman. Even with leather, horses, sweat all around me, I can always smell a woman."
Jessie's hand flew to the gun at her waist.
In that same instant, the man behind her caught her arm in a painful grip.
The gun clattered to the ground.
While the man continued to hold her, the other three circled around her.
One of them lifted the hat from her head, and a cloud of shimmering hair drifted about her face and shoulders.
"God Almighty. Look at it."
The tall man grabbed a handful of hair and watched as it sifted through his dirty fingers.
"Did you say you wanted whiskey and women?"
When the others laughed, he added, "Whiskey-colored hair and a woman.
Just like that."
"What a nice surprise."
The man holding her suddenly yanked the jacket from her and tossed it to the ground.
Twisting her to face him, he grabbed both sides of her shirt collar and hissed, "I can't wait to see the rest of this female."