Loe raamatut: «Taken By A Texan»

Prologue

It all began, oddly enough, because Thomas Keeper was a restless man who had been overlooked by the female gender. Of course he was also a selective man, and had limited the opposite gender to those females who attracted him.

Tom was a TEXAS man. Which meant that he wasn’t something as simple as just male. He thought like a man. He looked like one. He was strong and could bend just about anything. But more important than his strength, was his ability to persuade.

He knew cars and understood them. Any woman knows on sight that cars are obstinate and male. Men get along with cars. Women get towed.

In chancy situations, Tom Keeper was calm. His face was stoic. He moved his glance to what was happening, but he didn’t have tunnel vision and ignore everything else. He kept the whole area under his observation without seeming to do so.

Just like his daddy.

Tom was a man in the sense we all suppose males are. He never took a hand, in anything, unless he was needed. Then he was logical. Or he was physical, if it came to that. He caught arms, stopped fists with his open hand, or just said, “Be quiet” like you would to a dog or a child or an adult male who wasn’t really in control of himself.

Women tended to go to Tom when they had problems with another man. Like Kayla Fuller had when she’d been baffled on how to regain her stupid ex-husband Tyler.

And it was Tom who took over the dogs from Kayla when she bought them at an illegal dog pit and didn’t know what to do with them.

The fact that Kayla had never been interested in anyone else but that budding lawyer, Tyler, was obvious to everyone but Tom. He had really thought he had another chance with Kayla.

During that time Tom had been with Kayla he’d listened to her. And after a while he’d mentioned to her that she still loved Tyler. The woman had been shocked and strongly denied it, but Tom had watched Kayla as she’d protested that she was finished with Tyler. She’d protested too emotionally. She’d cried.

It had been a sad time for Tom. He’d still felt the same way about Kayla as he had before Tyler had intruded onto the scene. Tom had always thought that when he wanted to settle down, Kayla would be available.

But she’d loved Tyler. That had been a stunning observation. A nasty realization. How could she?

Her marriage to Tyler had been a waste of a good woman. At best, Tom thought, women were a trial. It made Tom wonder why God had given men such odd companıons. Such baffling, complicated solutions to a man’s needs. Women were a chore for any needy man. Women wanted men to do so much else!

The men from the distant past were probably the smartest. They protected the village, hunted and supplied the meat while the women kept the village neat and did the planting.

Theirs was a better organization. Their women had other women to ease them and listen to them. Women understood other women. Men never really did.

But at the current time, in TEXAS, with the women being snatched up by other men, Tom felt like an abandoned coyote outside the corral. How was Tom to get his sheep? How was he to live like everybody else, here, on this land? He was of the age when he needed to be paired off and responsible.

Why was his family named Keeper? What had somebody, back long ago, been keeper...of? Did the long ago Keepers raid other places and not give anything back?

Tom’s eyes narrowed and he thought how he’d like to raid Tyler’s house, snatch Kayla and keep—her. His ancestors very probably raided other places and stole women. His name wasn’t keep-im or keep-it. It was keep-er.

Tom tilted his head and considered raiding. It was attractive to him. The urge was probably genetic. Since the Keepers had so much land and money, Tom finally wondered just how the devil they’d gotten all that land and all that money.

So the next time he saw his daddy, he asked him. They were out on the Keeper place, looking around, seeing what was going on. They’d come to a small stream with a large oak for shade.

The two were resting their horses. So they had stepped down and stood talking, letting the horses look around without the human weight on their backs.

There were three big dogs with them. The dogs were watching around and probably exchanging comments about where they were and what the humans were up to. The dogs were probably glad not to be horses. No saddles, no bridles, they went around almost free.

They listened as Tom asked his daddy, “How come we’ve got all this land and all this money?”

For the dogs it was not an interesting subject, so they went off a ways and looked around.

But Tom’s father looked at his son and replied soberly and with a tad of puzzlement, “The reason we got this place is that we worked our tails off.”

“How’d you go about getting the land?”

“I asked my daddy that same question when I was just a tad.” He then commented in an aside, “It’s interesting it took you so long to inquire about that.” Then he looked afar as he instructed his twenty-eight-year-old son, “When our family wanted to come here, back then, just by the strangest chance, our ancestor learned the Indian chief of the tribe that lived on this land then could speak English. Your seven greats grandfather heard a conversation by the purest accident. The chief not only spoke English, he’d been to Europe!”

“Now why had he gone there?”

Tom’s daddy said, “He was curious how come all us strange, pale people were invading their lands. He did sell us this plot and charged us a tad more than anybody else around here paid.”

“Where’d the tribe go from here?”

And his daddy told him, “North to Canada. They didn’t have the European rifles. Just their bows and arrows. They saw the future.”

Tom considered as he looked around. Then he said, “It must have been tough for them to leave here.”

“Apparently not. Other tribes were vicious in defending their land, but the small tribe we contacted was ready to leave here. They didn’t much cotton to us newcomers and went off on their own to another place.”

Tom said, “I’ve had it pretty easy.”

His daddy agreed, “Just saying that shows you’re getting ready to share the load. You’re through school five years, now. You’ve traveled. That part’s important. You got so’s you realize how lucky we are to have this spread, and you understand you need to pull your share. About time you settled down.”

Tom said sadly, “I thought I had the woman I wanted, but she went back to her husband.”

His daddy nodded as he named them. “Kayla Davie went back to Tyler Fuller. Sometimes that happens. Women aren’t at all predictable. She probably thinks she can help Tyler be a really great lawyer, and she could be right. But don’t you fret none, you’ll find a woman for yourself. Like I found your mama.”

“How’d you find Mama?” Tom tilted his head back so that he could look at his daddy from under his Stetson brim.

His daddy gazed off across their land, remembering. “I’d really planned on being a bachelor. With seven brothers, I didn’t think it was at all vital to the family that I get married and have kids. Then your mama came along on a horse that was limping...”

Tom waited. Then he responded, “I don’t think I’ve heard this particular part of your life. What happened when Mama came up on a limping horse?”

“I was out looking for a heifer that was due, and she’d gone off into the bushes and got lost or killed or something. And your mama came along up on that limping horse.” From under the oak, he looked at the horizon. Then he looked at the nearby nuisance, the lacy mesquite trees. He said softly, “She was really something.”

Tom inquired, “She push a stone under the horse’s shoe?”

“Now, I never even once thought of something like that happening! I just wonder if that could have been so!”

Tom licked his smiling lips and waited.

“She was so concerned about the horse. She asked if I’d look at it. That she was late getting back to the Sullivans’. I’d heard the Sullivans had company, and I’d been invited over for their dance that weekend. I let my unmarried brothers go. I stayed here. I had no need to meet some woman like that who was visiting.”

“So she came looking for you?”

His father snorted. “Well, I never even once thought of it thataway! Do you suppose she trapped me? She said she was just out riding. It was fretful to find her all by herself like that. I scolded her.”

“What’d she do.” Not a question but just a nudge for his daddy to go on with the story.

“She told me to hush and fix her horse’s foot. Think of a person calling a hoof a foot.”

And Tom remembered. “She wasn’t a ranch girl.”

“Naw. City.”

“So what happened?”

“She flung a leg over the horse’s neck and almost slid down. I caught her in time and pulled her away from the horse.”

Tom mused, “That horse would have been too old to be the one that was their biter.”

“It was a grandparent of that one that’s such a nuisance.” But his daddy was remembering. “Your mama was nice to hold. Women are just...different.”

“She let you hold her?”

“She wiggled and objected. She was so soft!”

“Daddy, you shock me. Now don’t tell me your hands got out of control on her.”

“Heavens to Betsy, no! I was in shock or they might have! I couldn’t think clear a-tall, boy. I was sundered right then.”

“What’d you do about the stone under the horse’s shoe?”

“I put your mama aside very carefully and told her to stand still. Of course, she didn’t do as I directed. But then, you know your mama. Nobody can direct her.”

“So you quarreled?”

“Oh, no. I went to the horse who was really peeved. How ever that stone got under his shoe, it was a chore getting it out! I asked your mama-to-be how that stone had happened? She said that she’d gone through the creek.”

“That wasn’t far from where you were, was it?”

“She never did admit to anything. She just watched me and waited. She didn’t flirt or talk or anything. She surely was a beautiful young woman.” He shook his head once. “She made me prickle.”

“So that was when she wrapped you around her little finger and just kept you thataway?”

“Yep. That about tells the whole story.”

“Did you get the stone out of the horse’s shoe? Or did you just watch her?”

And his daddy said, “So you understand what a woman can do to a man? Was that Kayla rattling you?”

“Yeah.”

His daddy sighed with some regret. “I got to tell you she’s really something. I agree to that. I just wonder why you didn’t do your chasing before she met Tyler?”

Tom explained, “I didn’t really notice.” Tom was gently turning his head, looking around. “Then there was such a choice! I thought I had the time.”

“Men are greedy.”

“Yeah.”

There was a thoughtful silence. Then his dad advised, “You better get to looking farther for other women and get serious. Men snatch them up awful quick.”

“Do you suppose the magic She will come out here on a limping horse?”

“Who’s that?”

“Mama did it for you. Think there’s a woman who could cotton to me?”

His daddy frowned as he studied his son. Still frowning, he observed, “You got all the parts. You look good. You seem smart enough. I think you’re a catch. You be careful you get a good woman. Don’t get panicked and bring in a shrew.”

“I’ll try not to.”

“Yeah.” His daddy watched his son for a full minute. Then he sighed and mounted his horse. He asked, “Coming?”

Tom came out of his thoughtfulness and looked up at his father. “Hmmm?”

“What you thinking, boy?” His voice was gentle.

“I think I’ll go over to the prairie dog kingdom and see how the dog is doing. He might be lonesome.”

“Go by the house and take Queenie along.”

Tom had been pensive. But as his daddy’s words soaked in, he smiled a tad and he said, “Right.”

Tom watched as his father moseyed off on his horse. The dogs chose to go with his dad.

Tom went to his own horse and took up the reins. He looked at the horse and indicated the bunch leaving them as he asked Oscar, “You that easy?”

The horse blew through his loose lıps in disgust at such a question, then walked on off with his burden.

So at the ranch house yard, Tom whistled for Queenie. Think of a dog having such a name. It must irritate the hell out of her. They’d labeled her Queenie while Tom was gone, so he hadn’t had any part of the naming. But she was now used to being called such a name.

It was rather apologetically that Tom called to Queenie. She came with curiosity. That was the best part of her. She was endlessly curious. If something went into a hole, she watched, but she looked around to see if there was an exit hole. She was an unusually smart dog.

Tom told the other dogs to run along, but he took Queenie. He closed the gate so that the other couple of dogs stayed where they were supposed to be.

It didn’t take forever to get out to where the prairie dogs lived. The holes were many and the ground was bare and hilly from their digging.

As soon as they approached the prairie dog mound, the dog was there. It was the dog that Kayla Davie Fuller had bought from the dogfight pit and one of those given to Tom to find a home.

The dog was not a family dog or even a barn dog. It was a loner. However, the dog did notice Queenie quite avidly. He ignored the human and the horse and was zeroed in on the female dog. She wagged her tail and her smile was big.

Off a way, Tom stepped down from the saddle and watched, not intruding. Queenie obviously communicated with the big, mended dog, who had fighting scars and healed rips. She was impressed. The big dog moved and watched her watch him. She continued her pleased smile.

The two looked at the prairie dog hill. The dog in charge apparently told her why he was there. That he was invaluable in keeping the rodents under some control.

She apparently was curious. So after several serious tries, he caught her a prairie dog and gave it to her, laying it before her.

Queenie was intently curious. She sniffed the gift, and it flipped over to run! The male caught it again! It wasn’t dead! He’d given Queenie a live one.

Tom watched, absolutely fascinated. How amazing to realize what the male dog was doing to impress the female. How typical of all males to show off, and willingly be the slave of a female. After she’d eaten the little creature, the dog took Queenie to a small rill that emptied into a bigger stream down a ways.

She lapped the water. She looked at the male dog and then lapped some more. She had indicated to her host that the water was good.

There was no difference between the males of all species. The male courted the female in the very similar ways of all males. They all communicated.

After a time, Tom went to his horse, mounted and turned it slowly to go back to the ranch house. He went diagonally, at first, so that he could look back at the dogs.

. Queenie saw that he was leaving. She watched but since he did not call to her, she didn’t feel committed to follow. She turned alertly to the male dog and her smile was big.

The male dog stood with his head up and his neck stretched, watching after the human on the horse. Then he turned and looked at the bitch. He smiled. She moved and flirted and played around the big dog.

He sat and laughed.

Tom left knowing that delivering Queenie to the isolated dog had been a good thing. The fact that he’d supplied another male with a handy, willing female was balm to his own lonely feelings. Tom had helped a male to a life of better interest. And apparently Queenie hadn’t minded at all.

Then Tom wondered who in the world had named that female dog...Queenie? When the two dogs met just what real name had she’d given as hers to the male and what real name had the male supplied as his?

For some reason, Tom turned his horse away from the direction of the ranch and toward the stream. There he allowed his horse to drink rather slowly and quite a bit. He encouraged it as he went upstream and also drank water. The man and his horse were oddly silent and watchful.

The horse kept looking up and to a certain spot. He blew his lips as he watched and lifted his head higher.

Tom glanced around the area and was aware they were very alone. Then he noticed the attention of the horse, and he looked out and away. He saw nothing to cause the horse to give such attention.

Then Tom saw a dot in the distance that was a dog. With a deep breath and using his fingers in his mouth, he whistled the ranch double whistle for dogs at that distance, and the dog came his way. Tom noticed it had come from some distance, and that it was not one of the ranch dogs. It was the human whistle that caught the dog’s attention. It walked oddly.

Tom told the horse, “Steady.”

Although it wasn’t yet summer, the dog could have rabies. Sick dogs generally left home. Or he could be lost. And he could be a calf killer. The approaching creature could be just about anything.

The man and the horse looked other places, to keep track of the area, but they were for the most part concentrated on the approaching dog.

Because of the waterless area beyond, Tom didn’t go to meet the dog. If it had come across that stretch of barren land, it would be thirsty, and there was water close to where Tom was standing.

The dog could smell it. He was urgent to turn back, but the water lured him on. And Tom remembered that he and the horse had drunk especially—for a reason. Was there a person out there on the flat, alone? In danger? Harmed? Where would he be? She?

With more intentness, Tom watched the approaching dog. So did the horse. The dog was coming from a bleak area. The land was used to graze cattle—on occasion—depending on how the weather had been, which year. If it’d been wet, there’d be enough growth for a herd, if it had been dry, other places were used. Beyond, the land was fragile.

When the dog came to the water, it was still some distance from where Tom stood. It walked into the water and lapped carefully.

To gulp water immediately could flounder a creature. The dog was dehydrated. The dog looked at Tom but did not attempt to approach him. It was mostly trying to adjust to the water. And it began to shiver.

The water was too cool for the dog.

Concerned, Tom carefully went toward the dog. It didn’t try to get away. It watched, shivering. But it wouldn’t get out of the water. It lapped some and shivered.

It tried to bark, to communicate, but its throat was raw from the lack of water and a long journey.

Tom took out his cellular phone and called in to the house. “This is Tom.”

“It’s Joe,” came the answer. “What’s up?”

“An exhausted, dehydrated dog just came in off the upper flats. He’s in the stream but he isn’t yet drinking much.”

“Is anybody following him?”

Tom looked around again out to the edge of forever. “Not that I can see.”

“I’ll bring some of the boys out and a couple of tracers,” Joe suggested. “If he’s available, it might help if Rip goes up in the plane and looks around. We’ll have him land out by you so he can find the dog’s tracks. Keep in touch. If the dog should leave, go along but let us know.”

“Right.”

“We’ll be along as soon as possible.” That had a meaning of immediate commitment.

And quite sure there was need, Tom said, “Thank you.”

The answering reply was a serious, “Yeah.”

Slowly, Tom began to move toward where the dog was. If the dog stayed put, he was probably used to people. But Tom knew he’d never get the dog to stay close. It wasn’t looking for a place but for help.

How strange that Tom felt that so clearly.

He watched the dog and told it, “You need to get out of that water and shake yourself dry so’s you won’t chill.”

The dog shivered.

Tom unsaddled his horse and took the blanket off. “Come here, boy. I’ll help you. You chill, you’ll get really sick. Who’ve you left out there? Where are they?”

The dog lapped several times. Then he went to the edge of the water ın the shallows and shook himself hard, sending water flying everywhere. It was as if he’d understood Tom’s words.

Tom said, “Let me just put this blanket on you.”

The dog became careful. He watched but he was not at all sure the man should come closer.

Tom backed away and put the blanket aside.

Tom took note of the slight indentations of the dog’s arriving paw marks. How far across the plain could the prints be followed? How far had that dog come?

Would the dog have come to the stream directly? Or would he have circled, looking for a habitation? Looking for people.

Tom listened for the plane.

A plane would cover the area much quicker. If the dog was that dehydrated, so would be whoever the dog had left out there, on the tableland.