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  “Yes, sir,” Coleman answered with a wide smile. “That’ll work just fine. I’ll tell Bertha you’re all paid up through breakfast.” He got up from the table to shake Ben’s hand. “It’s been a pleasure to have you as our guest.”

  With that settled, he went upstairs to his room and was happy to see it had not been disturbed since he was last in town. Breakfast the next morning was typical for him when he was in town. The few other guests who were down for breakfast as early as he was, stared at him when he walked in. It seemed they were not sure they should say good morning or not and would generally return his good morning, but not cheerfully enough to start a conversation with him. He thought about his new “family” in the Lost Coyote. In comparison, this breakfast was like going to a funeral service. That is, until he finished eating and left the room. He could hear the conversation liven up behind him. Bertha had made it a point to tell him she was sorry to see him go and to come back to visit them again when he was back in town.

  Not much time was spent talking to Fred Pritcher at the stable. He saddled Cousin and loaded his remaining possibles onto his packhorse and he was soon on his way out of Austin. Since he had been lucky to catch Mitchell in his office the night before, and get that business taken care of, he should make the round trip in four days.

  * * *

  As he had figured, he raised the buildings of Buzzard’s Bluff above the horizon in the early afternoon of the fourth day. A short time later, he was walking Cousin up the street toward the stable. Jim Bowden called out to him as he went past the blacksmith shop. “Howdy, Ben, glad to see you back.” Ben returned the greeting and kept on going. Hearing Jim Bowden’s greeting, Tuck Tucker ran out of his harness shop and hustled up to the stable after Ben.

  Henry Barnes walked out to give Ben a hand with his horses. “See you got back in one piece,” he said. Then he glanced down the street to see Tuck. “Here comes your deputy,” Henry said with a grunt. Ben looked behind him to see the little redhead hurrying along on his short little bowed legs. “Tuck’s been guardin’ the town ever since you left,” Henry remarked.

  Ben snorted a chuckle. “I reckon Mack Bragg oughta appreciate that,” he managed to comment before Tuck arrived.

  “I was thinkin’ it was about time you showed up,” Tuck said. “Everything turn out all right?”

  “Yep,” Ben answered and pulled his saddle off the big dun gelding.

  “Well, that’s good,” Tuck declared. “Everything’s under control here.”

  “Is that so?” Ben responded. “Well, I reckon you musta done a good job then.”

  “You goin’ to the Lost Coyote?” Tuck asked.

  “That’s where I’m headin’,” Ben answered, “soon as I take care of my horses.”

  “Me, too,” Tuck said. “I’ll go on ahead while you’re doin’ that and tell ’em at the saloon that you’re back and you’re on your way there.”

  He hurried away then to deliver his message. Ben and Henry exchanged glances, then just shook their heads. “I swear, Ben,” Henry commented, “he’s gone completely loco since you’ve been gone, running up and down the street half the night. I hope he’ll settle down now that you’re back.” He paused to scratch his head. “What I can’t figure out is why he thinks it’s your responsibility to take care of the town. I thought that was Mack Bragg’s job.”

  “I think the same as you,” Ben said, “and I’m damn sure Mack thinks so, too.” He picked up his rifle and saddlebags and walked back to the Lost Coyote.

  When he walked into the saloon, he found most of his little “family” gathered at the end of the bar, having been alerted by Tuck. “Glad to see you back.” Rachel was the first to greet him. “I don’t need to ask you how your meeting with your captain went, since you did come back.”

  “I told you I would,” Ben replied.

  “We thought you mighta gone back there and got yourself talked into stayin’ with the Rangers,” Tiny spoke up. “We even had a bet on it, me and Rachel.”

  “Is that so?” Ben asked, interested now. “Who won?”

  Tiny hesitated, suddenly wishing he’d kept his mouth shut about it. “Rachel,” he finally confessed, then quickly sought to explain his reason. “I was just thinkin’ that you looked like you didn’t have enough to do around here half the time, and I thought you mighta missed the action you had when you was a Ranger. The way you took care of them Double-D boys, there ain’t no doubt that’s the kinda life you’re suited for.”

  Ben glanced at Rachel, then back at Tiny, and was interrupted when he started to comment. “Hell, I told ’em you’d be back,” Tuck declared. “There’s still unfinished business here. Ain’t that right, Ben?”

  “I reckon so, Tuck,” Ben answered. “But that’s Mack Bragg’s business. We’ll just take care of our own.” He said it to remind him that Bragg was the sheriff and the whole town was Bragg’s responsibility and not his. Even as he thought it, he was pretty sure any trouble from the Double-D would focus on the Lost Coyote. “Right now, the only thing I feel real responsible for is to put away some of Myrtle Johnson’s cookin’ down at the hotel. I ain’t had a whole lot to eat today.”

  “That sounds like a doggone good idea,” Tuck said. “I’ll go with you.”

  “Well, it’s a little early yet. I need to carry my saddlebags back to the room and wash up some, so Lacy will let me in the dinin’ room.”

  Tuck hesitated a moment, trying to decide what to do. “All right, then, I’ll meet you down there when they open.”

  * * *

  Just as he said he would, Tuck was sitting on a small bench outside the dining room door when Ben walked down the street to the hotel. Lacy James gave Ben her usual cordial greeting when he and Tuck walked into the dining room. “You’ve been away for a while,” she said. “I was afraid you weren’t getting the nourishment a growing boy like you needs. I see you brought your bodyguard with you.”

  “Good evenin’ to you, too, Lacy,” Ben returned. “It don’t pay to hang around a place as rough as this one without some kind of protection.” He grinned at Tuck, who grinned back at him innocently, unaware that Lacy was japing him. “You still serve food in here? We didn’t come in here to talk. Did we Tuck?”

  “You got that right,” Tuck answered.

  “You heard ’em, Cindy, better get Myrtle back in the saddle,” Lacy told her young waitress. “I’ll get ’em some coffee.”

  When Lacy left to get their coffee, Ben said, “You ain’t said anything about Robert Grier and his wife. Did you take him out there to see that property?”

  “I sure did,” Tuck replied, “took him out there and he thought it was just what he was lookin’ for. He didn’t waste no time at all decidin’ on it, came back here and got his wagon. The next day, he was already moved in and workin’ on Mutt’s old cabin. I told him he was doin’ the right thing. Jump on it quick ’cause somebody else is liable to.” He paused to chuckle then before continuing. “His daddy was complainin’ in the Coyote last night. Said he hadn’t seen his son in two years and hadn’t never even met his daughter-in-law. They popped in and popped right back out again.” He shook his head and chortled, “That boy sure is anxious to get started.”

  “That sounds like a good thing to me,” Ben commented. “We need more and more hardworkin’ young families to keep this town growin’.” Their conversation was interrupted then when Cindy brought out two plates piled high. “Now, this is what I’ve been thinkin’ about for the last two nights,” Ben commented. Cindy stood back to watch them attack Myrtle’s Cowboy Stew. Back standing just inside the kitchen door, Myrtle watched, as well, pleased by their reaction to her cooking. Had he been able to see their faces, he might have been more convinced than ever that he had found a place to call home after so many years adrift.

  CHAPTER 17

  Back in Austin, a man riding a Palouse gelding and leading a sorrel packhorse pulled up to the walk at a large two-story house and stepped down from the saddle. He paused to take
a look toward the front porch of the house and the one person sitting in a rocking chair as he looped his reins over the gatepost. “Afternoon,” the stranger said when he stepped up on the porch.

  “Afternoon,” Louis Watts returned, eyeing the stranger in curiosity.

  “I’m lookin’ for the Coleman boardin’ house. Am I in the right place?”

  “Yes, sir,” Louis answered. “You’re in the right place, and if you’re lookin’ for Mr. Coleman, he’s right inside in the parlor. Least he was when I came out on the porch just a few minutes ago.”

  “Maybe I’ll go in and talk to him. I’m lookin’ for a friend of mine who’s supposed to have a room here, Ben Savage. Have you seen him, today?” When Louis seemed to be trying to associate someone with the name, the stranger added, “He’s a Texas Ranger.” Then he saw the light come on in Louis’s eyes.

  “Oh, the Ranger, right,” Louis remembered. “I declare, I never did catch that fellow’s name. He was gone most of the time. Yeah, he used to live here, but he moved out a few days ago.”

  “Moved out? Do you know where he went?” the stranger asked. “To another boardin’ house maybe or outta town?”

  “I’m sorry, friend, I ain’t got no idea,” Louis said, shaking his head. “John Coleman might know, he’s the owner. Like I said, he’s right inside the door in the parlor. You could ask him.”

  “Much obliged,” Billy Turner said. “I’ll do that.” He opened the front door and walked inside where he found Coleman sitting in an easy chair, reading his newspaper. “Mr. Coleman, feller on the porch said you might be able to help me out. My name’s William Smith, and I’m tryin’ to catch up with a friend of mine, who I ain’t seen in years. Ben Savage, Last I heard from him, he was rentin’ a room here at your house.”

  “You just missed him,” Coleman replied. “You’re right, Mr. Savage used to rent one of my rooms. But he moved out four days ago, outta town somewhere. Town with a funny name, I can’t rightly recall the name of it now.”

  “Buzzard’s Bluff, John,” Bertha Coleman said as she walked in the room. “That’s the name of it. He told me that the other morning when he left here—Buzzard’s Bluff. I don’t have any idea where that is.” Then she remembered. “He did say that it was about ninety miles from here.”

  “Thank you, ma’am,” Billy said politely. “I know where it is. Looks like I’ve missed him this time, but it wasn’t nothin’ important. Just thought I’d visit with him, if he was here.” He took his leave then, cursing his luck, but still determined to settle with Ben Savage.

  It had been quite some time since he had been to Buzzard’s Bluff. And at that time, there were only three or four buildings there, but there were several cattle ranches close by. One of them was a sizable outfit, as he recalled. He wondered what Ben Savage had been sent up there for and how long he might be there. He wished he had found out Ben was there when he started out from Fort Worth. He could have saved himself a lot of time and trouble, if he had ridden straight to Buzzard’s Bluff, instead of riding all the way down here to Austin. “Just take a little longer, Ben,” he said aloud. “But that’s all right ’cause thanks to you, I’ve got nothin’ better to do.” There had been investigations regarding several killings he and a couple of his fellow Rangers had been involved in. But it was the damning testimony of Captain Randolph Mitchell that slammed the door on his career as a Ranger. And that testimony came straight from what Ben Savage had reported to Mitchell. Thinking back on his trial, he supposed he could say he was lucky to have escaped time in prison. One of the lawyers wanted him executed, but the prosecutor was not bent toward pampering prisoners, so he held out for kicking him out of the Texas Rangers. “So, Mr. Ben Savage, you signed your own death warrant for shootin’ off your mouth about another Ranger.”

  He started out for Buzzard’s Bluff right away, riding right through the center of Austin, since with Ben out of town, there was no reason to keep from being seen. It crossed his mind that it might bring him extra satisfaction to settle up with Captain Mitchell while he was here in Austin. His better judgment told him that might be too big a risk. Even if he managed to get close enough to Mitchell to kill him, the act would set every Ranger in the state on his trail. No, he decided, it was better to take his vengeance out on Ben Savage. One Ranger turning up dead in the remote cattle country around Buzzard’s Bluff would hardly cause a ripple.

  He didn’t spare the Palouse as he pushed the gelding with the odd markings along a trail that led in the general direction he desired. He knew he would strike the Navasota River somewhere near Buzzard’s Bluff, if he continued on that path. He had not taken time to eat breakfast, electing instead to keep pushing his horses until he was forced to rest them. In the early afternoon of the second day, he struck the river and made the decision to stop. Thinking he couldn’t be far from Buzzard’s Bluff at this point, he would have preferred to keep going. But he knew he could not afford to push his horses any farther. So he walked them along the river, looking for a spot that suited him when he suddenly stopped.

  Up ahead, he spotted a thin column of smoke beyond a crowded grove of trees hugging the riverbank. A camp? He wondered. Cautious now, he pushed the weary Palouse forward, entering the trees ahead and continuing until he could see where the smoke was coming from. “Would you look at that?” he muttered when he saw the cabin. There was a wagon parked alongside and a couple of horses grazing nearby. The fire that produced the smoke he had seen was outside, in front of the cabin. “Well, now, this looks convenient,” he said to himself and rode on out of the trees. Just as he did, a young woman came from the cabin carrying a bucket. She proceeded down to the edge of the river to fill it, taking no notice of the man riding out of the trees. “Hello the house!” Billy yelled, causing her to start. A few moments later, a young man came out of the cabin to see who had called. “Howdy, folks!” Billy called out again. “Mind if I come on in?”

  “Come on in,” Robert Grier called back to him and stood to watch him approach. Sue Ann hurried on up from the water’s edge to stand by her husband.

  Billy rode up to them and stepped down from the saddle. “I declare,” he said, “I didn’t have no idea there was a cabin here till I rode outta the trees back there. My horses are plum near wore out, and I was fixin’ to rest ’em and cook myself somethin’ to eat. But I don’t wanna intrude on you folks’ home here. I’ll just push ’em on a little farther up the river.”

  “Why, you’d be welcome to rest your horses here,” Robert said. “We’d offer you something to eat, but we don’t have anything fixed right now. We don’t wanna be inhospitable, but we haven’t got our cabin fixed up yet to cook inside. We can offer you some coffee and if you’ve got something you were gonna cook, we’ve got a good fire already goin’.”

  “So you’re just movin’ in this old place?” Billy asked.

  “That’s right,” Robert replied. “We’ve taken over the house and the forty acres it’s settin’ on.” He looked at Sue Ann and smiled. “And so far, it’s been a good bit of work just tryin’ to clean the house up.”

  “Well, I can sure appreciate that,” Billy said, taking another critical look at the cabin. “If you’re sure you don’t mind, I’ll take you up on the offer to use your fire. I’ll try to stay outta your way. I’ve got some sowbelly I’ll cook up. That’ll hold me till I get to Buzzard’s Bluff.”

  Feeling as if she was terribly lacking in common hospitality, Sue Ann was moved to offer something. “I’m downright ashamed we don’t have anything cooked up to offer, but I’ve got flour and baking powder, I could mix up some pan biscuits for you.”

  “I wouldn’t trouble you for that, ma’am,” Billy replied in his most humble manner. “I’m used to goin’ without. I’ll just take care of my horses and let you folks get on with what you were doin’ before I interrupted.”

  “Won’t be any trouble at all,” Sue Ann insisted, and went to fetch her flour at once.

  “Hate to put you folks out,” Billy said t
o Robert as he pulled his saddle off the Palouse, then pulled the packs off his packhorse.

  “Like my wife said, we’re sorry we ain’t really set up here yet.” He watched Billy getting the sowbelly from one of his packs. “You say you’re headin’ to Buzzard’s Bluff?”

  “That’s a fact,” Billy answered. “How far is it from here?”

  “About ten miles,” Robert answered.

  “That’s about what I figured and I’da kept on goin’, but I’m afraid I’d break my horses down if I pushed ’em another mile.” He was thinking there was little chance these people knew Ben Savage, but he decided to make sure. “I’m on my way to see an old friend of mine and I heard he was up this way. You folks bein’ new here, yourselves, you ain’t likely run into a feller named Ben Savage, have you?” He was surprised by the immediate smile on Robert’s face.

  “Sue Ann,” Robert said, “our guest wants to know if we know Ben Savage.”

  She reacted as he had upon hearing the name. “Well, I expect you told him we surely do.”

  Seeing the look of complete surprise the stranger displayed, Robert said, “Excuse our manners. I’m Robert Grier and this is my wife, Sue Ann, Mr....” He waited for Billy to respond.

  “William Smith,” Billy said. “Pleased to meet you.”

  “Same here,” Robert said, then went on to tell Billy how Ben Savage literally saved their lives when they were attacked by a pair of outlaws on their way here from Houston.

  After Robert finished telling of their fateful meeting with Ben Savage, Billy commented. “That sounds like ol’ Ben, all right. ’Course, bein’ a Texas Ranger, that’s what he was trained to do.”

  “Well, it sure came in handy to my wife and I,” Robert said. “Ben’s not a Ranger anymore, though, if you didn’t know. He’s in the saloon business.” Robert paused, obviously enjoying Billy’s total surprise. “He’s half-owner of the Lost Coyote Saloon in Buzzard’s Bluff.”