Stella Bagwell - Her Texas Ranger

“Next to us” meant at least ten miles away as the crow flied, but Rube Dawson’s property did butt up to a portion of the T Bar K. And out here in New Mexico it was the same as West Texas—land was usually measured in sections.

“Matt!” Corrina scolded. “It’s not polite to ask someone about their finances!”

Seth merely chuckled. “Well, I’m not all that rich and part of my family lives next to you,” he told Matthew. “But I don’t. I live down in Texas. In San Antonio, where the Alamo is.”

“Oh,” Matthew mumbled, then a flicker of interest passed over his face. “Do you know Aaron?”

Seth nodded. “He’s my nephew. Are you two friends?”

Matthew nodded. “Yeah. We ride the same school bus together. He’s younger than me, but he’s pretty cool.”

“Mr. Ketchum is a Texas Ranger,” Corrina said to her son.

Matt’s blue eyes suddenly widened with disbelief. “You mean, like the one on TV?”

“That’s right,” Corrina replied. “Except that Seth is the real thing.”

Matthew’s mouth fell open as he stared openly at Seth. “You’re not wearing a badge or gun.”

Seth grinned. He didn’t know why, but something about the boy touched him. Maybe it was the vulnerable look in his eyes or the way he sidled close to his mom as though he couldn’t trust the outside world.

“That’s because I’m here as a neighbor,” Seth explained.

Corrina gestured toward the screen door leading into the house. “Dad’s inside, if you’d like to talk to him,” she invited.

“If he’s busy I can come back some other time,” Seth offered.

She cast him an odd look. “Dad’s never busy. He—uh—he’s retired now.”

Without waiting for him to reply, she opened the door and stood to one side to allow him entry. Seth slipped past her and into a dimly lit living room packed with mismatched pieces of older furniture. The house wasn’t air-conditioned, but there was a water-cooled fan blowing through vents in the ceiling. The moist breeze was enough to make the room temperature tolerable.

“Dad’s sitting out on the back porch,” Corrina stated as she ushered him down a short hallway and into a small kitchen with worn linoleum and white metal cabinets.

Along the back wall of the room, Corrina pushed open another screen door and motioned for Seth to follow her.

“Wake up, Dad,” she said in a raised voice. “Someone is here to see you.”

Rube Dawson was sitting in a metal lawn chair at one end of the screened-in cubicle. His face was red, his eyes bloodshot. Graying brown hair lay in limp hanks against his head and edged down over his ears. A blue plaid shirt was stretched taut over his rounded belly.

Seth didn’t need to see the empty beer bottles sitting on the floor next to his chair to tell him that Rube was a continual drinker.

“Hello, Mr. Dawson. Remember me?”

The older man twisted his head around and squinted long and hard at Seth. “Yeah, I think I do. You’re a Ketchum. Seth, isn’t it?”

Seth nodded while deciding Rube apparently hadn’t ruined all his brain cells with alcohol. “That’s right. I’m Seth. Ross’s older brother.”

Nodding, Rube reached a hand toward Seth and the two men shook hands.

“Sit down, son,” Rube invited warmly, “and tell me what this visit is about.”

Seth took a seat in a webbed lawn chair to Rube’s right. From the corner of his eye he could see Corrina lingering in the doorway, almost as if she was afraid to leave her father alone with him.

“Would you like a cup of coffee, Seth? Or some iced tea?” she offered.

He looked at her. “Tea would be nice. Thanks.”

She disappeared from the doorway and Seth turned his attention to Tucker’s old friend.

With slow, easy movements, he settled back in the chair and crossed his boots at the ankles. “I thought you might be able to help me, Rube. I’m up here trying to help my family find out who killed Noah Rider.”

Rube grimaced and swiped a thick hand through his hair. “That was a hell of a thing. I couldn’t believe it when I heard about it. Noah hadn’t been around here for years. Who would have wanted to kill him?”

Seth studied him closely. “I don’t suppose you’d kept in contact with him?”

Rube shook his head. “Nah. It’s been about twenty-two, twenty-three years since he left here. After he left here I think I ran into him a couple of times after that. And that was by accident over at Le Mesa Park.”

“What was he doing back then?”

“Training racehorses for some rancher down in Texas. Don’t know where. That’s been too many years ago for me to remember.”

Since the remains of Noah had been discovered on the T Bar K, the San Juan County Sheriff’s Department had sent Chief Deputy Daniel Redwing to Hereford, Texas, to search Noah’s last known residence. Redwing hadn’t found much for them to go on. The man had apparently been living a simple, modest life. From what the deputy had gathered from the man’s neighbors, Noah had lived alone and rarely had visitors. At the time of his death, he’d been employed at a local feedlot. Physically demanding work for a man in his sixties.

Which could only mean that Noah hadn’t possessed a nest egg for his older years. He’d been forced to work to supplement his monthly social security check, Seth mentally concluded.

“Well, at the time he was killed he was working full-time at a feedlot. His employer told a San Juan County deputy he never missed work and was surprised when Noah had told him he wanted a day off to drive up here to New Mexico.”

“Hmm. So, old Noah was working,” Rube said thoughtfully. “That doesn’t surprise me. He was always a damn sight more ambitious than me.”

That was quite an understatement, Seth decided as he focused his gaze on the back view of the Dawson place. Like the front, there was no yard, just red packed earth dotted with rocks and a few clumps of scraggy sage. Beyond, some twenty yards away, a network of broken-down corrals joined one end of the barn. Except for one black horse, the pens were empty. From the looks of things, Seth figured they’d been empty for several years.

“So you’re retired now,” Seth commented.

Rube leaned forward and rubbed a hand over both knees. “Yeah. I had to give up ranchin’. Just got too old and stiff to sit a saddle. And I couldn’t afford to hire help. Sold off all my cattle and the horses, too.”

Footsteps sounded just behind Seth and he glanced over his shoulder to see Corrina walking onto the porch carrying a tray with two glasses of iced tea.

As she approached him, her gaze met his briefly then fell swiftly to the tray in her hands.

“I hope you like it sweet,” she said quietly. “I already had it made.”

She bent toward him, and as he picked up one of the glasses, he caught the faint scent of flowers on her hair. The sweet fragrance reminded Seth how very long it had been since he’d took any sort of notice of a woman. “I’m sure it will be fine. Thank you, Corrina.”

“I’ll bet I don’t have to tell you that Corrina is the light of my life,” Rube said to Seth as his daughter handed him the other glass. “I don’t know what I’d have done if she hadn’t come to live with me. She takes care of me just like that sister of yours took care of Tucker before he died.”

Seth’s gaze settled on Corrina’s face. Her smooth features were unmoving, giving him little or no hint to what she was thinking about her father’s comments.

“I’m sure you must really appreciate your daughter,” Seth replied.

Rube tilted the tea glass to his lips. After several swallows, he said, “Like I said, Corrina is the light of my life. I couldn’t make it without her.”

Totally ignoring her father’s possessive praise, Corrina quietly walked off the porch. Inside the small kitchen, she walked to the double sink and, balancing her hands on the ledge of the counter, she bent her head and closed her eyes.

Seth Ketchum! Dear Lord, what was a sergeant in the Texas Rangers doing here?

“Mom, is something wrong?”

Matthew’s voice jolted her. With a guilty start, she quickly turned to him, while carefully hiding her shaking hands behind her back. She couldn’t let her son, or anyone, for that matter, know what seeing Seth Ketchum had done to her.

“No, Matt. Nothing is wrong,” she lied. “Nothing at all.”

A few minutes later, Seth swallowed the remainder of his drink and rose to his feet. He wasn’t really getting any useful information from Rube. And to be honest, the old man was not someone he cared to sit and reminisce with. He was slovenly and represented a side of life that Seth had seen all too often when dealing with criminals. Not that he thought Rube was a criminal. The only thing he figured the old man was guilty of was laziness.

“Well, thanks for your time, Rube. I’d better be going.”

“Sure thing, Seth. Anytime,” the old rancher replied, then squinted his eyes as another thought struck him. “Say, did Ross ever find that stallion of his?”

Seth paused at the door to look back at the old man. “You know about Snip going missing?”

“Ross called me when it first happened. He thought I might have seen the horse. But I don’t get out that much—just drive into town now and then. I told him I hadn’t seen the horse.”

“Well, Ross still hasn’t found him,” Seth said.

Rube shook his head. “That’s too bad,” he said regretfully. “He’s probably dead by now.”

Seth wondered why the old man would be thinking in that direction, when there were all sorts of scenarios that could have happened with Snip. However, he didn’t question Rube. For one thing, he didn’t want to appear as though he’d come over here to interrogate anyone.

“Ross isn’t giving up on finding him yet,” Seth told him, and then with a final word of farewell, he left Rube and entered the kitchen.

Immediately, he spotted Corrina working at the counter. He carried his empty glass to where she was standing, drying a large metal roasting pan.

“Thanks for the tea,” he said. “Where would you like me to put this?”

She cut him a brief, sidelong glance. And he got the sense that his presence was making her nervous. Why, he didn’t know, but the fact did intrigue him.

“Just drop it into the dishwater there in the sink.”

He did as she suggested, then casually leaned a hip against the counter. “I—uh—I was very surprised to see you here, Corrina. I thought you’d left San Juan County years ago.”

Corrina placed the dried pot to one side of the countertop before she turned to face him. “I was gone for a while. But when Dad started…going downhill I came back to take care of him.”

Her blue eyes were shadowed with fatigue—or was it sadness? Either way, it bothered the heck out of Seth to see this beautiful woman unsmiling, her eyes dead.

“I’m sorry Rube’s health is poor,” he said.

Her eyes darted away from his and her hands twisted the dishcloth into a tight rope. “Well, at least he’s alive. That’s more than you have.” She turned her gaze back on him and this time there was compassion in the blue depths. “It’s still hard for me to believe that your father is gone. I’m very sorry about that, Seth. He was…quite a character around here. I think everyone misses him.”

A wry smile touched Seth’s lips. “I don’t know that I’d go so far to say that everyone misses Tucker. He could be a real…difficult man at times. But you are right…. I miss my father and so do my siblings.”