Linda Warren - Texas Bluff

Shane shifted his feet. “Yeah. Now you can have a cow.”

She gritted her teeth and managed to keep her cool. “Go to the house.”

“Mo-o-om.”

“Go. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Shane hung his head and slowly made his way to the house. Her father met him.

“Boy, you just never learn.”

“I’m sorry, Grandpa.”

Shane glanced toward Luke and a look passed between them. What did that mean? Her son didn’t even know Luke. Did he? For the first time, Becky felt her parental control slipping.

Shane disappeared inside and her father said, “I’ll go get the four wheeler.” He headed for his truck.

Taking a breath, she turned and faced Luke. “Thank you for bringing him home. I’ll make sure he stays off Chisum property.”

He frowned. “Is that a hard, fast rule around here? I remember a time when you rode freely from one property to the other.”

Unable to answer, she swung toward the house. Luke caught her arm. Don’t touch me , her inner voice screamed. Outwardly she stared down at the strong fingers closed around her skin. Fingers she remembered well. Fingers that had stroked, caressed and taught her about love. For months she’d been fighting this very thing, but with just a touch, his touch, the past connected to the present.

And she didn’t know what to do.

She raised her eyes to his. The warmth she saw there made her feel as if she were wrapped in brown velvet.

“Are you going to hate me forever?” Luke asked.

With more strength than she thought she possessed, she pulled her arm away. “I don’t hate you.”

“Well, it sure feels like it. Every time I get within ten feet of you, your eyes are like heat-seeking missiles directed straight at me.”

“It’s just your imagination.”

“It’s not, Becky, and you know it. It happened so long ago and we were teenagers. Why can’t we get beyond that? Why won’t you let me explain?”

“Because it doesn’t matter anymore.”

“It does to me.”

The tone of his voice sent a ripple of awareness through her and something happened she swore never would—she weakened in her stance to never listen to Luke again. That teenage love had been the strongest she’d ever felt and his betrayal had hurt all the more because of it. But she still wasn’t able to let it go.

She looked him square in the eye. “I meant nothing to you. I was a dare. You wanted to prove you could sleep with the sheriff’s daughter. It became a challenge for you. I’m sure your poker buddies waited for the news.”

“Neither my poker friends nor your father had anything to do with our relationship. That was between you and me. If you can believe such things, then I guess we never had much of anything. I’m tired of beating my head against your stubborn pride. I won’t bother you again.” In an angry movement, he swung into the saddle. He looked down at her, his eyes as dark as the secret in her soul. “I guess I knew that when I wrecked the Mustang and you never even came to the hospital.”

He galloped away, the hooves of the paint kicking up dust.

She wrapped her arms around her waist, feeling that pain of long ago when she’d heard Luke had sailed his Mustang into the Medina River. She’d waited at the hospital until Henry, Lucy and Hank had left, then she’d slipped into Luke’s room. Heavily drugged, he’d been completely out. Her heart had contracted at the bandages on his head, arms and legs. Sitting by his bedside, she’d wondered what she was going to say if he woke up.

But he’d never moved. That morning when he’d begun to stir, she’d quickly left. She’d met Lucy in the hall, but Becky had hurried past her, unable to handle a conversation.

I was there, Luke .

CHAPTER THREE

LUKE RODE COCHISE HARD, his thoughts driving him. How could she believe those things? Had they been in two different relationships? This was it. He was through apologizing to Becky.

When he saw the sheriff checking the four wheeler, Luke pulled up and dismounted. In his present mood, he was ready to take on the sheriff and anyone else who got in his face.

The sheriff beat at the fender with a hammer, trying to pry it away from the tire.

“Need any help?” Luke shocked himself by asking. And his anger subsided as quickly as Becky had ignited it.

The sheriff looked up; his eyebrows knotted together like a frayed rope. “Nope. Just getting the wheeler ready to load.” Two ramps were positioned on the bed of his truck.

Luke tied Cochise’s reins to a tree limb. “Would you like me to ride it onto the truck?”

From the steely glint of the sheriff’s eyes, Luke thought he was going to refuse, but he replied, “Sure. Help yourself.”

Luke straddled the wheeler and turned the key. It spit and sputtered then roared to life. He drove it around then guided it up the steep ramps onto the truck. After killing the motor, he jumped to the ground.

“Thanks. I appreciate the help.” The sheriff shoved the ramps inside the bed.

“Mr. Parker.”

“Hmm?”

“They’re installing a new fence through here in a couple of days. You might want to warn Shane.”

“Don’t worry. The boy won’t be riding on Chisum land again.”

“That’s no problem.”

The sheriff slammed shut the tailgate with a deafening boom. Then there was absolute silence. A deer shot out of the mesquite bushes and quickly disappeared. An armadillo rooted in the leaves before scurrying away. A squirrel darted up a tree. From the strong negative vibes coming from the sheriff, a sane man would follow nature and leave, too.

But Luke had something to say. “Sheriff.”

“Hmm?”

“I’m sorry I hurt Becky.” Since Becky wouldn’t listen to him, he thought he’d tell the man whose respect he’d like to have. “Back then I really loved her.”

The sheriff removed his hat and scratched his balding head. “Chisum, you hurt my girl and if you’re looking for sympathy from me, you’re not going to get it. Besides, it happened a long time ago. It’s time for both of you to move on.”

“Yes, sir.” Luke finally believed that.

The sheriff jammed his hat onto his head. “But I’ll tell you one thing, Chisum—you hurt my girl again and this time I will kill you.”

Luke nodded, believing that, too.

The old truck rattled out of sight and Luke grabbed Cochise’s reins. He swung into the saddle, then galloped toward home. Before reaching the big house, he pulled up and breathed in the fresh evening breeze, slightly tinged with the scent of cypress, cow manure and dust.

He was home, but he’d never felt more alone.

LUKE DIDN’T SLEEP MUCH. In the military for so many years, he had never slept soundly. He was hoping that would change once he returned to civilian life. So far it hadn’t. He was down early for breakfast.

Hap sat at the table stuffing bacon and eggs into his mouth.

Clover stood at the stove. “You don’t need to be playing poker with those young boys. They’ll take all your money.”

“Don’t tell me what to do, woman. We ain’t married,” Hap replied around a mouthful of food.

Luke poured a cup of coffee and leaned against the counter. “Why haven’t you two ever gotten married?”

“Are you kiddin’?” Hap gulped a swallow of coffee.

“Why would I want to marry him?” Clover thumbed in Hap’s direction. “He has no manners, tracks dirt into the house and talks with his mouth full. He eats like a pig and has no common sense. I’d kill him within a week.”

“Like you’re a Wal-Mart bargain. You nag every moment of every hour of every day. If I were married to you, I’d be begging for someone to shoot me.”

Clover pointed a spatula at him. “I’ll remember that when you want food again.”