The Renegade's Redemption

Mark shot her a sad look. “We ain’t supposed to do that.”

“Aren’t supposed to do that,” she gently corrected. It was her duty to raise these children up right, and she would do it. A visit to their teacher might be in order to stress the importance of grammar and proper speech now that school was in session again.

“But it’s a real beaut, Miss Ravena.” Mark grinned, his sorrow forgotten, as he held the snake aloft.

Ravena scooted back against the porch column, eager to put distance between herself and the slithering creature. “Be that as it may, the rule still stands. As does the consequence. You, boys, will need to take over mucking the stalls for Jacob this week.”

Mark and Luke exchanged pained glances.

“And,” Ravena added, “if Mr. Grady were still here, you would need to apologize to him.”

“Mr. Grady left?” Luke asked, his tone a mixture of regret and curiosity.

“Yes, he’s left. Now please take that thing and release it somewhere beyond the fields.”

Mark frowned and eyed the snake dangling from his fingers. “Do we have to?”

Standing, Ravena fought an audible groan. “Yes,” she intoned firmly.

They started to walk away, their heads low with dejection once more, then Mark turned around. Luke did the same. “If Mr. Grady’s gone then how are we gonna...” Mark smiled sheepishly. “I mean going to do spring planting without any help? Can we still get those new brothers you told us about?”

Fresh apprehension washed through Ravena at hearing her own unanswered questions posed back to her. “We’ll figure it out, Mark. All of it. About the planting and bringing those new brothers to the farm.”

Satisfied, the boys scampered off. Thankfully they didn’t see the droop to her shoulders or hear the heavy sigh that escaped her lips as she picked up her dish towel from off the rocker.

“Let my words be true, Lord,” she prayed as she entered the house. “Please let them be true.”

* * *

He might die. Right here on the front step of his childhood home. Gripping his side, Tex managed to haul himself off the new horse he’d bought from a livery in Boise that morning. How he’d survived his escape from Casper, the train journey west to Idaho, and the thirty-mile horse ride north from Boise to his hometown was beyond him. Some might say he’d had help from above, but Tex scoffed at the idea. He and God were as distant as he and his brother.

Or at least as distant as he and his brother had been. That was about to change when he came face-to-face with Tate again today.

Apprehension battled with the pain in Tex’s gut as he stumbled toward the door. Would Tate take one look at him and throw him out? Tex couldn’t say he’d blame Tate if he did. He’d probably do the same if their roles were reversed, given the way things had ended between them. His excessively serious brother, older by five minutes, might say Tex had gotten what he deserved. Tate might even call the law on him.

The thought sent a shudder of dread through Tex and had him tugging the brim of his hat lower. He nearly turned around...but he didn’t know where else to go. If there was any chance of shelter to be found here, he had to try.

“Can I help you?” a man asked as he exited the nearby barn. He had a few years on Tex’s twenty-nine.

“I’m looking for...” Tex swallowed. It was a struggle to say his brother’s name for the first time in years. “Is Tate Beckett around?” Perhaps this man was a hired hand.

But the man shook his head. “Sorry. Beckett doesn’t live here anymore. He sold me the place eight years ago. Said he was leaving the area for good.”

Tate wasn’t here? Tex sagged against the porch railing in disbelief. This was a possibility he’d never even considered. His brother had loved this land. While Tex had tolerated farm work, Tate had loved it, even when they were young. Why would he up and leave a place and an occupation he’d prized? And where had he gone?

“You all right?” The man peered hard at Tex. “You a relative of Beckett’s?”

He didn’t need anyone recognizing him—not as Tate’s twin and certainly not as the Texas Titan. “Much obliged for the information, mister.”

Mounting his horse left him sweating, despite the pleasant afternoon, and aggravated his wound even more. The makeshift bandage beneath his new set of clothes would likely be bloodied again. With great effort, he kept himself in the saddle and turned his horse.

Where should he go now? The question had barely entered his head when he found himself guiding the horse away from the road toward the shortcut between his old home and the next farm over.

He’d go to Ravena’s; she’d likely still be there. If anyone loved this place more than his twin brother, it was Ravena Reid.

A feeling of dread and anticipation pushed through Tex’s cloud of pain at the thought of seeing her again. It was quickly followed by a surge of memories, most prominent being the afternoon, eight years ago, when he’d last seen and spoken with her. They’d planned to run away together that night—had arranged for him to come and fetch her. But his brother had caught Tex as he was leaving. After that horrible fight, with Tate accusing him of ruining Ravena’s life, Tex had run off alone, without a word to the girl he’d planned to marry.

He’d thought he’d never see her again, had believed she was better off without him. Now he had no choice but to turn to her. He needed to find somewhere safe where he could rest, or he’d run the risk of collapsing in the middle of the road...and no doubt find himself waking up in a jail cell.

Would she and her grandfather let him stay? Even a night or two in a real house, without being on the run, would surely help him heal faster.

Tex swiped at his brow with his sleeve. The temperature felt as if it kept soaring. Or maybe that was his fever. He’d contracted one at some point during the train ride to Idaho. In another hour or so, he’d probably be shivering with cold. And then there was the near-constant dizziness.

Trying to block out his intense discomfort, he turned his mind to Ravena once more. Would she be as beautiful as he remembered? It wasn’t hard for him to conjure up the image of her dark, wavy hair, deep brown eyes and the smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose. Tex had met plenty of women since leaving home, and yet, none of them affected him the way Ravena had. None of them had seen past his causal, lighthearted, adventure-seeking demeanor to the real man beneath, either.

The Reids’ farm came into view, causing Tex’s heart to flip painfully in his chest. He’d never allowed himself to believe he would ever come back. If he hadn’t deserved Ravena years ago, he certainly didn’t now. Fortunately, she and her grandfather, Ezra, weren’t likely to know about his unlawful profession. And he wanted to keep it that way.

At the edge of one of the fields, which he absently noted was only a quarter of the way plowed, he climbed off his horse. If he thought facing Tate would be hard, facing Ravena was sure to be a thousand times more difficult.

Something akin to the fear he’d felt when the sheriff in Casper had recognized him twisted in Tex’s stomach now. Could he face Ravena after all these years? What if she had learned he was an outlaw after all? His breath whooshed harder and faster through his lungs as the dizziness intensified. Tex tried to focus on leading his horse and staying upright. But after a few moments, the edges of his vision began to curdle like two-day-old milk and he found himself falling. The last thing to register in his mind was the feel of warm dirt against his face.

* * *

“Miss Ravena, Miss Ravena.” Mark’s frantic cry could be heard clear back to the kitchen.

What now? she wondered, wiping flour from her hands onto her apron. If their snake had gotten loose somewhere it wasn’t supposed to... “I’ll be right back, Ginny. Keep forming those biscuits, please.”

The ten-year-old girl nodded, her red hair framing her pale face. She typically said little, even though she’d been with them for nearly a year now, but she was a quick learner and an efficient helper in the kitchen.

Ravena met Mark and his brother in the hallway. “What’s going on?”

Hands on his knobby knees, Mark leaned over, trying to catch his breath. Luke copied his brother’s stance. “There’s somethin’ you gotta see, Miss Ravena.”

She forced a patient smile. “Ginny and I are making biscuits for supper. If it’s another snake...”

“Not a snake,” Mark said, panting. “It’s a person.”

“A person?”

Luke slipped his hand in hers and tugged her toward the front door. “He’s dead, out in the field.”

Ravena stopped short, horror coursing through her. “Dead? Are you sure?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Mark gave a solemn nod as he rushed to push open the screen door. “He’s lying in the dirt, not moving. Luke even poked him with a stick and he still ain’t moved.”

“Hasn’t moved,” she murmured. Were the boys serious? She almost wished it were a snake that had them overly excited.

“You gotta come see, Miss Ravena,” Luke said, his eyes wide. “Besides, his horse is just standing there.”

If what they were saying was true, she couldn’t very well leave a...a dead person in her field. Though what exactly she’d do with him, she didn’t know. First Mr. Grady and now this. But she refused to be beaten down by this day.

Taking the rifle from its pegs above the front door, she followed the boys outside and across the yard. She cast a glance at the barn where she knew Jacob was working and six-year-old Fanny would be playing with the new litter of kittens. Should she ask Jacob to tag along? But she dismissed the thought. She had the gun and it wasn’t as if she’d never seen an expired person before.

Still, she gave a quick prayer for protection and a little added bravery as she trailed the boys to the fields. If she weren’t on such a morbid errand, she might have paused to take in the view—one she never grew tired of. The farm sat on a hillside bench, overlooking the valley, the river and the mountains beyond. A stream ran along the edge of the property and boasted several nice-sized shade trees.

“There’s his horse,” Mark said, pointing.

Sure enough, a lone horse munched on the grass at the edge of one of the fields. The one Mr. Grady had left only partially plowed. Ravena shaded her eyes with her hand and was able to make out a figure lying facedown in the dirt.

Her heart sped up as she strode toward the body. The gentleman was tall and dressed like a cowboy or a farmhand, though even with the small amount of dust and dirt on his clothes, she could tell his were new. Ravena crouched beside him and set the gun within easy reach. There didn’t seem to be any obvious reason for the man’s demise. No limbs twisted at odd angles, no visible head injuries, no blood that she could see. And yet something had caused him to crumble in her field.

She watched the back of his coat for movement and felt immense relief when she saw it rise and fall with breath. A sick or injured man was a far cry better than a dead one.

“He’s still alive,” she announced in a half whisper, though she didn’t know why she felt the need to speak quietly.

“How come he don’t...doesn’t...move then?” Mark asked from where he and Luke stood behind her.

“I believe he’s unconscious.” She glanced past the man, in the direction he appeared to have been riding before his collapse, and frowned. Why would a stranger take the shortcut between her place and the old Beckett farm instead of using the road?

Luke placed his hand on her shoulder in an oddly comforting gesture. “What are we going to do, Miss Ravena?”

She studied the man again. “We are going to gently roll him over and see if we can get him to come around. Hopefully long enough to tell us who he is.”

Placing her hands along his arm and side, she nodded toward his legs. “Boys, you push from there.”

They scrambled into position, their faces more alight with excitement than worry. Boys will by boys, she thought with a rueful shake of her head.

“Now we’ll roll him over on the count of three.” She took a deep breath, then began to count. When she reached three, she and the boys rolled him onto his back. The man cringed in pain, but his eyes remained shut.

A patch of red drew Ravena’s attention to where his coat had fallen back from his shirt. She leaned closer to examine it. “I think he’s been wounded.” But how? A sliver of dread traveled up her spine. Had his injury been an unfortunate accident? Or had someone hurt him, and if so, was the offender still close by?

“He’s wounded,” Mark repeated with awe, sounding far too impressed.

“Go get Jacob from the barn, Mark,” she directed. The injured man didn’t need the boys gawking at him as she tried to clean the dirt from his face and revive him. “We’ll need Jacob to help us assist this man to the house. Luke, get some water.”

They took off at a dash, their childish voices full of wonder as they talked over each other. Ravena allowed herself a small smile at their antics. They might tire her out with their innocent mischief, especially since her grandfather’s passing, but they were good boys.

Taking a corner of her apron in hand, she gently began wiping the dirt from the stranger’s bearded face. He stirred, prompting her to console him. “We’re here to help. You’ve passed out in our field, but we’ll get you up to the house in a minute.” She’d probably need to send one of the boys for the doctor. “Can you hear me, sir? We’ll have you fixed up soon.”

When he didn’t respond, she resumed cleaning his face. She was concentrating on brushing the last of the dirt from his beard before she realized he’d gone completely still. Was he truly dead and gone this time? Jerking her gaze to his, Ravena found his eyes open. Brilliantly blue eyes—familiar eyes—which peered directly at her.

Her heart flew into her throat as she studied his face, now absent of dirt. There were age lines around his eyes that hadn’t been there the last time she’d seen him, as well as tiny red cuts where his beard didn’t cover his tanned skin. But the dark eyebrows, the arch of his jaw, the brown hair lying damp against his forehead were still as recognizable as they’d always been.

“Tex?” His name barely made it past her lips, but a faint smile creased his mouth at hearing it.

“Hello, Ravena,” he murmured in a hoarse voice, which only confirmed the truth.

For better or worse, Tex Beckett had just stumbled back into her life.

Chapter Two

Despite his feverish haze, Tex caught a full glimpse of Ravena’s face, furrowed in concern and shock. If possible, she looked even more beautiful than he remembered. The girl of nineteen he’d left behind was now a grown woman.

“Tex, what are you doing here?” Her compassionate tone of moments before had disappeared, replaced by one of firmness and cool indifference. He’d expected as much. Thankfully she hadn’t yet walked away, leaving him to fend for himself.

He swallowed past his parched throat and shut his eyes against the glaring sun. “Could I...get some water?” he asked, dodging her question for the moment.

“Yes, Luke is on his way back with some right now.”

Luke? Tex didn’t remember anyone named Luke living here. Perhaps it was a hired hand or maybe one of the many orphans Ravena’s grandfather had taken in through the years.

A young boy’s excited voice pierced his thoughts. “We got the water and Jacob’s coming.”

“Thank you, Mark,” Ravena replied.

At the mention of the needed water, Tex pried his eyes open to find Ravena leaning over him with a cup in her hand. Behind her, two boys, who must be Luke and Mark, stared wide-eyed at him. If he hadn’t felt so near death, he might have chuckled at the horrified fascination on the orphans’ young faces. He would’ve felt the same had a stranger collapsed in his family’s field when he was a boy.

“I’ll help you drink.” Ravena lifted his head a few inches above the dirt and brought the cup to Tex’s dry lips. Her cool fingers were a reprieve from the fever. After a few swallows, he turned his chin away to indicate he was finished.

His thirst abated, he realized his head and side felt awful. Still, there were questions that needed asking. “How many orphans do you have right now?” he questioned, trying to work up to what he really wanted to find out about her.

“Five.”

“And your husband...” He wasn’t under any illusion that Ravena hadn’t married in his absence. It was only a matter of how much time had passed before she’d met someone else to claim her heart as Tex once had.

Her brow scrunched in confusion. “My husband?”

“Miss Ravena ain’t married,” the taller of the two boys volunteered. The news brought Tex unexplainable relief as did the shade from Ravena’s shadow as she stood over him. It wasn’t as if he’d come here to win her back. He’d slammed that door shut and locked it tight the moment he’d robbed his first bank. Still it pleased him to know no one else had captured her fancy.

Ravena appeared to draw in a steadying breath. “It’s isn’t married, Mark. Not ain’t married.” She glanced at Tex. “And Mark is correct. I’m not married.”

“How’s your grandfather?” Tex managed to ask next, though the pain and the heat were making it harder and harder to think clearly.

“He died three months ago.” Her hair hid her expression as she bent to pick up a gun from off the grass, but her anguished tone told him what her face hadn’t.

Sorrow flooded through Tex at the news. Not just for the loss of an honorable, generous man but for Ravena as well. She’d lost her parents to illness as a young child and now to have both grandparents gone too. Tex remembered a little about her grandmother, but her grandfather had been more of a father to him than his own father. He’d greatly admired Ezra Reid, even when they hadn’t always seen eye to eye. Especially regarding Tex’s ability to properly care for Ravena eight years ago.

“Ah, here’s Jacob.” She took a step away from Tex, allowing the harsh sun to beat down on him again. “He’ll help us get you to the house.”

Between the assistance of Ravena and the dark-haired youth named Jacob, Tex managed to get to his feet. Dizziness made the field seem like it was tipping one way, then the other, and he had to pause before he could start walking. He hated being at the mercy of others, but he had little choice. If he saw a doctor, he’d most likely be arrested, so he’d chosen to manage his gunshot wound himself. He’d done the best he could, and yet, he knew his current illness meant his efforts hadn’t been as effective as he’d hoped. He needed rest and proper care if he wanted to heal.

“We’ll get your horse, mister,” Mark said, his eyes alight with childlike excitement.

“Thank you,” he ground out between clenched teeth. Walking was proving more difficult than riding, even though Ravena and Jacob had him propped between them.

After a few minutes, the younger boys grew tired of Tex’s laborious pace and moved ahead, leading his horse around them and toward the barn while Tex, Ravena and Jacob continued plodding along. Sweat slid down his temples and soaked the back of his shirt. It wasn’t the most attractive way to greet one’s former sweetheart. Ravena seemed to be repressing any further questions, which suited him just fine. If he didn’t pass out before they reached the house, he would consider his first thirty minutes back in her presence a wild success.

“You have some older orphans or a hired hand helping out?” he asked, as much out of curiosity as to keep his mind off the pain radiating from his wound with each step forward. The Reid farm was on the smaller side, but with her grandfather gone, Ravena would still need help.

To his surprise, she shook her head. “Not anymore. The man I hired quit this morning.”

He glanced over in time to catch the worry that flitted over her pretty features. No wonder the field he’d collapsed in hadn’t been fully plowed. “What will you do now?”

He was pushing into her private life, a life he had no business learning more about. But he couldn’t help it. He didn’t like the thought of her in trouble. Or maybe he didn’t like the way it pricked his conscience to know she was completely on her own now.

“I’ll hire someone else.” The determination in her voice might have fooled anyone else, but Tex still knew her well enough to recognize it masked deep fear.

“If there’s anything I can do, Ravena...” He could stick around a little while, once he was well. Take more time to throw Quincy off his trail, since Tex felt certain the rustler wouldn’t think to look for a notorious outlaw in this sleepy little hamlet.

She sucked her breath in sharply. “That won’t be necessary.”

“But, Miss Ravena,” Jacob started to say.

“Mr. Beckett won’t be staying.” Ravena refused to look at Tex as she spoke. “And besides, he isn’t in a position to help with much of anything right now.”

Tex nearly laughed out loud at hearing her call him Mr. Beckett. That respectable-sounding name fit an entirely different person—one who’d stayed put on the farm, married Ravena and raised half a dozen kids along with the orphan children.

No, that name didn’t fit him at all.

The three of them fell into a tense silence, injury and exhaustion robbing Tex of any further energy to speak. By the time they reached the house and he sat on the porch step, he felt more like a quivering mass of dizzying pain than an infamous, and temporarily retired, outlaw.

Ravena sent Jacob to the barn to see after the younger boys before she disappeared into the house, declaring she’d get Tex another drink of water. He leaned against the porch column, his gaze sweeping the familiar surroundings. He’d spent a good portion of each day at the Reids’ farm until he’d left home. Beyond the worn red barn, he noticed a structure he’d never seen before. It appeared to be the outer walls of a house.

Ravena returned and handed him a full cup, then took a seat on the opposite side of the step. She seemed determined to keep her distance.

“Is that a house back there?” Tex asked, pointing in the direction with the cup. He wasn’t sure what else it could be—but he also wasn’t sure why she needed another house.

She followed his gaze. “It will be, when it’s completed. Grandfather started it. It’s twice as large as this one so we...” She lowered chin. “I mean, I...would be able to provide a home for more orphans.”

Tex took a drink from the cup. He admired Ravena’s dedication in continuing her grandfather’s legacy. Any orphans she took in would find a good home at the farm. This place had certainly been his second home. Not only had he been welcomed day or night, but there’d always been someone to play with too.

“What are you doing here, Tex?” Her repeated question scattered his nostalgic thoughts.

“Thought it was time to see the ol’ place again,” he joked.

Her eyes narrowed in annoyance. “Be serious for once. You’re hurt and you’re sick. How did you get that wound in your side?”

He gulped down the rest of the water as he considered what to say. She’d made no mention of his being an outlaw, which he hoped confirmed his assumption that Ravena had no idea how he’d spent his time since he’d left here. “I was shot at,” he said opting for some measure of honesty, “and who did it doesn’t matter.”

“But you’re seriously injured.” Her gaze darted to his and then away. “If you’re hoping for a place to convalesce, it can’t be here, Tex. It just can’t. The farm and the children need all of my attention—I don’t have time to play nursemaid. Besides, you need a doctor—”

“No, I don’t. And you don’t need to concern yourself with my injury. The bullet went clean through. It’ll be fine.” At least he hoped it would once he found some place to stop and rest for a time.

Her cheeks flushed with anger as she shot to her feet. “I can see you’re just as stubborn as ever. You think you can just waltz in after nearly a decade of being gone and expect everything to be the same. Expect me to be the same.” She turned her back to him and marched toward the screen door. “I should leave you to rot right there. Because if you had any idea of the pain...”