The Texan's Christmas

LUCKY HURRIED THROUGH the back door of her home, wanting to check on her father before meeting Travis. She found him in the living room in his recliner watching Wheel of Fortune—a double-barrel shotgun lay across his lap. Ever since he was wounded in an attempted robbery years ago, the gun was never far from him. Faithful as always, Ollie, his black-and-white border collie, lay by the chair, also watching the TV as if he understood every word.

“Hey, girl, what’re you doing home so early?”

“I wanted to check on you and make sure you had supper.”

Her father’s fall about six years ago had injured an already bad hip. Now it was stiff and cumbersome and he walked with a cane. He was the only family she had. She didn’t even remember her mother, who’d died when she was small. Her grandmother helped raise her, but her father was always in charge. No matter what, she would be here for him like he’d been there for her.

“I had a bowl of soup. I’m not too hungry.”

“Dad, you have to eat.” She worried about him. He’d gotten so thin in the past few years and it took effort to get him moving around. The cattle on the property were his only interest. Every now and then she could coax him into coming into The Joint so he could visit and talk to people.

“Girl, you get on my nerves sometimes.”

“That’s what daughters are for.”

“Humph.”

She went into the kitchen, cut cheddar cheese into wedges, grabbed crackers, a clump of grapes and a Dr Pepper, his favorite drink besides beer. Placing them on the TV tray by his chair, she said, “Something for you to nibble on.”

Ollie looked up at her, wagging his tail.

“Okay, I’ll get you some bacon strips.”

Once Ollie had his treat, she glanced at her father, who was trying to look around her to see the TV.

“I saw Kid Hardin today.”

“What?” She suddenly had her dad’s full attention.

“I tried to maintain my cool.” She wrinkled her nose. “I think I failed a couple of times, but I didn’t get my gun and shoot him. It was on my mind, though. He strolled in bigger than Dallas expecting me to forgive and forget. Not that he asked for forgiveness. He just wanted the past swept under the rug, like it had never happened.”

She took a deep breath. “He…uh…looks as good as ever. He’s gotten older, of course, but even that’s appealing with a couple of gray hairs and a Hollywood five o’clock shadow. On most men the look seems as if they need a bath, but Kid has it perfected. His body isn’t as lean as it was, either. He’s filled out with a lot of muscle.”

“Sounds as if you looked at him pretty good.”

Maybe too good.

“I was trying to figure out where to put the bullet.”

Her father laughed and it felt good to hear that robust sound. He didn’t laugh enough.

“After all these years, did he have a reason to stop by?”

“Oh, yeah. He wants to lease our land for oil and gas.”

“That son of a bitch!”

“Mmm. When he left, I talked to Mr. Harvey. The rumor is that since the oil well on the Hardin property isn’t producing, Cadde acquired the drilling contract from another company, as well as another tract, for a pretty penny. But they need our land to complete the desired acreage for a horizontal well or whatever.”

“So, now Kid wants a favor?”

“That’s about it.”

Her father’s eyes narrowed. “What was your answer?”

“Hell, no.” She looked down at her fingernails. One she’d bitten down to the quick since this afternoon. Damn Kid! She’d wondered for years what her reaction would be if she ever saw him again. Hi. How you doing? They would be polite, or maybe just indifferent. She just didn’t expect all the hurt and pain to still be there, and be so vivid.

“Lucky.” Her father noticed her hesitation, her inner struggle. She could never keep anything from him.

“I’m okay.” She brushed it away. “It was just a shock seeing him after all these years.” She reached down and scratched Ollie’s head. “I’ve got to go. I have to meet Travis in a few minutes.”

“Lucky.”

“Dad, I really don’t want to talk about Kid.”

“I’m not worried about Kid. It’s Travis. I want you to get out of this job.”

“It’s what I do and I’m very good at it.”

“It’s dangerous.”

She sighed at this same old conversation. “I’m well trained and can take care of myself.”

“You’re a woman and cattle rustling is a man’s game.”

Her job was top secret and she knew her father would never tell anyone. It would endanger her life. She worked as an undercover agent to a special ranger for the Texas and Southwestern Cattle Raisers Association. Cattle rustling was on the upswing because of the economy. Not only cattle, but tractors, ATVs, farm equipment, saddles and tack—anything that could be sold. She spent most of her day selling beer and listening for tidbits of information. Sometimes it paid off and they could shut down an operation or a petty thief eager to make a fast buck.

“Don’t worry.” She kissed her dad’s cheek and headed for the door before he could get in another plea.

In her Chevy pickup she sped toward an old dirt road that was rarely used. She tried to push thoughts of Kid away, but he was always there in the hidden corners of her mind. So many wasted years of regret. She wished she could erase him like a recording and all that would be left would be a blank tape—a place to rewrite, a place to start over.

She spotted Travis’s truck. Parking behind him, she pushed a button and the window slid down. The heat of the late afternoon was still oppressive, or maybe it was just the warring thoughts inside her.

A tall lean man with sandy-blond hair and blue eyes walked toward her. At the lowest point in her life she’d found a friend—a true friend who wanted nothing but to help her.

When her dream of having a nursing career had fallen apart, she’d had to search for work. No way could she come home with her tail between her legs. The old biddies in High Cotton said she would never amount to anything. How could she? She was practically raised in a bar. The Bible-touting women did little for her self-esteem, but Kid had restored her confidence in herself, in life.

And then he’d destroyed it.

She’d fought the memory like she’d fought for so many things. After years of menial jobs, she was hired as a gopher for a big convention center in Austin. It was still a menial job, but it was interesting. That’s how she’d met Travis. The Texas and Southwestern Cattle Raisers Association was having a big meeting and Travis was the keynote speaker, educating people on how to keep their cattle and their equipment safe.

He’d arrived early as she and another lady were setting up microphones, video equipment, tables with water and every little thing that had been requested. One of her jobs was to make the guests comfortable with coffee, water or whatever. She liked Travis and he was easy to talk to. Before she knew it she was telling him about High Cotton, her dad, The Beer Joint.

It was a one-meeting-type thing, or so she’d thought. He’d called the next day and asked if she was interested in a job. When he’d told her what he needed, she was shocked and told him she had no experience. His answer was she’d have to be trained. She went to seminars at the police academy in Austin, took self-defense classes and learned to use a gun.

It was exciting compared to her ho-hum life. While they were working a case, she’d asked him why he’d picked her without any qualifications for an undercover agent. His answer was simple—he’d liked her character and she knew her way around a bar. Surprisingly, that didn’t hurt her feelings. Beer and rustling seemed to go together.

She’d worked several counties with Travis where rustling was the strongest. Her cover was always in beer joints in small, out-of-the-way towns. Then her dad had fallen and that had given her the courage to return home. She was still the barkeep’s daughter, but ironically it didn’t matter anymore. Even though no one knew her real job, she felt good about herself. And that’s all it took—belief in herself.