To Tame A Texan (13 page)

In the parlor, Clarence entertained the two and younger brother Billy by playing the old pump organ and reciting verse until supper was ready. Lynnie was impressed, and he was openly flirting with both girls.

He leaned closer, and Lynnie could smell the strong rose-water hair tonic he wore. “Now, which of your two families has the bigger ranch?”

The girls looked at each other in shock. In Texas, it was not considered polite to ask about the size of a man's spread or how many cattle he owned. But after all, Mr. Kleinhoffer was a big-city Yankee, and in these parts, that pretty much said it all.

Penelope cleared her throat. “Uh, the Lazy M and the Triple D are the two biggest ranches in Texas besides the King Ranch. Lynnie is from the Lazy M.”

About that time, Mrs. Dinwiddy called from the kitchen that supper was ready.

“Well, well, well!” Clarence's teeth fairly gleamed. “Miss McBride, allow me to escort you in to dinner.”

They all stood up, and Lynnie took his arm. The four of them trooped into the big dining room and sat down as Penny's father joined them. He was as dried up and leathery as most cowboys. Plump Mrs. Dinwiddy bustled about serving food. Mr. Dinwiddy seemed less than pleased to meet the new schoolmaster, but after all, Lynnie thought, the older man had been a member of one of the Texas cavalry units in the Civil War and had no use for Yankees.

Lynnie watched in astonishment at the amount of fried chicken, hot rolls, and chocolate pie Mr. Kleinhoffer consumed. Even half-grown Billy, who could eat a lot, seemed amazed at how much the man ate.

The schoolmaster finally sighed and leaned back in his chair, wiping his mouth daintily with a napkin. “Excellent cuisine. Well, Mr. Dinwiddy, I was just asking the girls how much land you owned.”

The older man frowned. “Not enough. I'm hoping my girl will marry well and bring a little into the family.”

“Now, Pa,” Penelope said, “you know I'm promised to Hank Dale.”

“Not yet, you ain't.” Her pa made a gesture of dismissal. “He has worthless land and not much of it.”

The schoolmaster was now smiling at Lynnie. “But you, Miss McBride, your family has a big ranch?”

Old Mr. Dinwiddy frowned at him. “Did the girls explain that Miss Lynnie is the one whose job you took?”

The Yankee looked taken aback. “I'm sorry; I had no idea—”

“Let me assure you, sir,” Lynnie said with a smile, “I'm not upset you are taking my position. I'm delighted to have an educated man around who can discuss poetry and who might lead some symposia to teach ladies about their rights.”

“Their rights? Surely, my dear lady, you are not one of those suffragettes?”

“I certainly am.”

“Me, too,” Penelope chimed in.

“When I marry,” the schoolmaster said coolly, “I shall be looking for a young lady who is not only pure as the driven snow but also knows her place.”

“Which is ... ?” Lynnie asked, struggling to hold her temper. It was not polite to start a fuss in someone else's home.

“Home and church,” Mr. Kleinhoffer said decisively. “These fool women who want to meddle in politics should be turned over some man's knee.”

“Any man who tries to turn
me
over his knee,” Lynnie snapped, “has a fight on his hands.”

“Oh, dear, I think we need some more coffee,” Mrs. Dinwiddy said, and got up and went into the kitchen.

Mr. Dinwiddy cleared his throat as the atmosphere at the table turned awkward and silent. “I think we'd best adjourn to the front porch swing.”

The schoolmaster's thin face turned pale. “Where the hound dogs are?”

The atmosphere turned even cooler. Next to his horse, his wife, and his guns, a Texan loved his dogs. Well, maybe the wife might fit a little lower on that list.

Mrs. Dinwiddy came in from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron. “More coffee, anyone?”

“I'd better be leaving.” Mr. Kleinhoffer stood up, and everyone else got up, too. “Mrs. Dinwiddy, it was a lovely dinner.”

Yes, he was a Yankee, all right, Lynnie thought. Texans had dinner at high noon and supper at night.

Good-byes were said, and with Billy holding off the hound dogs, the prissy Mr. Kleinhoffer got in his buggy and left.

“What a disappointment,” Lynnie fumed once she and Penelope were back inside. “I think he's hoping to marry some girl with a rich father, and he doesn't even believe in women's rights.”

“Forget him,” Penny said with a smile. “There's bound to be someone else for you: sophisticated, elegant, educated—the man of your dreams.”

Lynnie laughed. “Penny, you've been reading too many romantic novels. There's no man like that in Texas.”

“Well, if you could get to Dodge City, maybe you'd find him there. Anyway, let's work on some sewing and think about the trip.”

“Yes, I'll make another bloomer outfit to wear in Dodge City,” Lynnie said. “That is, if I can figure out a way to go.”

 

 

Spring was definitely coming to central Texas, with new calves and colts, and flowers in bloom. The next week passed pleasantly for the two girls, until the day before Lynnie was to leave and a Lazy M cowboy came riding into the yard. “Hallo the house.”

The dogs all ran barking to meet him, and Penelope and Lynnie went out on the porch. “Good morning, Bob.”

“Miss Lynnie, don't come any closer,” he shouted, holding up his hand in warning.

“What's the matter?”

“There's an outbreak of chicken pox at the ranch, and your sister sent me to tell you to stay at least a week longer.”

Lynnie blinked. “What about Maverick? Aren't he and some of our cowboys supposed to leave on the Durangos' cattle drive soon?”

The cowboy shook his head. “Can't help that. Quarantined, all of us. Won't be able to go—and oh, I reckon you ain't heard: Trace Durango got throwed by a bronco yesterday and broke some ribs. He won't be goin' neither.”

The two girls looked at each other.

“So they've called the drive off?” Penelope asked.

“Nope. It's goin', all right, but it'll be young Ace, old Cookie and Pedro, and a bunch of young cowboys that ain't never been on a drive before.”

Lynnie winced at the grammar. “When are they leaving?”

“Day after tomorrow; gatherin' at the big spring.”

She knew where that was. “All right, Bob, thanks for bringing the word. Tell Sis I'll be just fine here.”

The cowboy touched his fingertips to his hat and rode away.

“Well,” said Penelope, “what about that?”

“Anybody in your bunch going on the drive?” Lynnie asked.

Penelope shook her head. “My dad's rheumatism is too bad to sleep on the ground, Billy's too young, and our cowboys are already scheduled to fix fence for the next few weeks in our west pastures.”

An idea began to grow in Lynnie's mind. “You know, Penelope, I could ride out of here and your folks would think I'd gone home, and at my ranch, they think I'll be here at least another week.”

Penelope looked puzzled. “So what?”

“So if I borrowed some of your brother's clothes, dressed like a boy, and went along on that cattle drive, nobody would know the difference.”

“Oh, Lynnie, you wouldn't!” Her eyes went wide with excitement. “Besides, why would you want to? Don't we see enough of dirty, unshaven cowboys?”

“Silly,” Lynnie reminded her, “the women's rights meeting in Dodge, remember?”

The other shook her head. “You'd be in big trouble when they finally figured out who you were.”

“Well, in the first days of the drive, there's always a lot of confusion and some new hands, so maybe no one would pay any attention to me.”

“You couldn't get away with that,” Penelope said, “not riding your horse with the Lazy M brand. Everyone would wonder where you got it.”

“You're right.” Lynnie furrowed her brow, deep in thought. “Maybe we could hide my horse and take one of your dad's.”

Penelope shook her head. “That won't work. Everyone would notice the Rocking D brand and realize you weren't one of our cowboys.”

Lynnie paced up and down the porch. “There has to be a way to do this.”

“Lynnie, it's a loco idea; forget about it.”

“No, this is my only chance to make that meeting.”

“You ever been on a cattle drive?”

Lynnie paused and looked at her. “You know I haven't; even most of the young cowboys who'll be going haven't been on one before.”

“It'll take weeks,” Penelope argued, “and everyone says it's pretty miserable. Besides, after a few days, the secret would be bound to come out.”

“So what?” Lynnie challenged. “If we're far enough up the trail, they won't be able to spare the men to escort me back. And they can't let a lady travel alone, so they'll be stuck with me.”

“And you'll be stuck with them,” Penelope reminded her. “Weeks and weeks on the trail with a bunch of rough, dirty cowboys—and Ace Durango among them.”

Weeks on the trail with that uncivilized brute. The thought almost caused Lynnie to give up her idea. No, getting to the women's meeting was important enough to make any sacrifice, even if it meant she had to ride alongside that dreadful Ace Durango. “The biggest problem is, I don't have a horse that won't be recognized.”

Penelope's face brightened; then she shook her head. “No, maybe it's not a good idea.”

Lynnie grabbed her arm. “What?”

“It's a loco idea, Lynnie; I can't do it.”

“Tell me!” Lynnie demanded.

“Well . . .” Penny chewed her lip. “Dad just bought a new mare—paid plenty. This gray is supposed to be able to run like the wind, even though she doesn't look like much.”

“But the brand . . .”

“The horse hasn't been branded yet with our brand; it's still carrying a brand from some ranch in New Mexico.”

“Where is this horse? I want to see her.”

“She's out in the east pasture; Dad's trying to fatten her up, but she looks as bad as she ever did.”

“So maybe I could trade out the gray I rode over here, and for a few days, unless your dad rides out to check, no one might notice?”

Penelope shook her head. “I told you it was a loco idea.”

“I'm desperate enough to try anything. Let's go see this horse.”

They got a buggy and drove out to the east pasture to see the gray mare.

Lynnie sat in the buggy and stared wide-eyed at the bony beast through the fence. “Tell me you don't mean that refugee from the glue factory.”

Penelope frowned. “I told you she didn't look like much, but she can run. Dad intends to win a bunch of money off unsuspecting ranchers at the fall races.”

Lynnie took a closer look. The gray was not only ugly, she was slightly swaybacked. “Penelope, this horse couldn't run fast enough to outrace your grandmother.”

“I've seen her run. Believe me, Boneyard's better than she looks.”

At the sound of her name, the big-jointed, flea-bitten gray horse came to the fence and nickered.

Lynnie shook her head. “That's the ugliest horse I've ever seen. She's got hooves as big as buckets, and her hipbones stick out.”

“Be quiet; you'll hurt her feelings. Get down and have a look.”

The two of them got out of the buggy and walked over to the fence to scratch the horse's ugly head.

Penelope took a piece of cornbread out of her pocket and handed it the horse. “Boneyard's crazy about cornbread and biscuits.”

“Boneyard?” Lynnie said doubtfully. “Well, at least the name fits. Why, a self-respecting pack of coyotes would turn up their noses at this rack of ribs.”

The ugly horse nickered again.

“Hush, you'll hurt her feelings. She likes ladies better than men, too.”

Lynnie patted the velvet muzzle. Boneyard had big, yellow teeth. “How are you, girl?” she crooned. “You have pretty, long eyelashes even if you don't look like much.”

The horse nuzzled her, and Lynnie liked the mare instantly, even if she wasn't pretty. “Penelope, this poor thing doesn't look like she could walk all the way to Dodge City, much less win a race.”

“Trust me,” Penelope said, “I've seen her run.”

Lynnie sized up the horse as she scratched her, and Boneyard fluttered her long eyelashes. Sure enough, she was carrying a brand no one would recognize. “Apaches must have stolen her.”

“Who knows?” Penelope shrugged. “Anyway, Boneyard's my dad's pride and joy.”

“So I could swap out my gray, and from a distance, your dad wouldn't notice?”

Penelope stroked the horse. “Maybe we should forget the idea. I'll be in big trouble when she disappears.”

Lynnie looked at her sternly. “Penelope, are you in favor of women's right to vote or not?”

“Well, yes, but...”

“We all have to make sacrifices,” Lynnie declared solemnly. “After all, I'm just borrowing Boneyard. Think about what I'll have to endure, riding the trail for weeks with a bunch of uncivilized, loutish brutes.”

The other smiled. “You reckon Hank Dale will be going along? If so, I might have the guts to go—”

“Guts?” Lynnie shuddered. “Ladies don't say ‘guts,' not even liberated ones.”

“You're right.” Penelope turned toward the buggy. “Besides, Lynnie, you're the only one I know who would dare go on a cattle drive with a bunch of men. It'll be just miserable out there on the trail.”