A Texas Hero. Linda Warren

though Henry was older by seven years, they were best friends. They were hardworking, hard cussing cowboys who were born and raised in Willow Creek, Texas. Henry had started a family early, while Walt had been thirty-five when Ethan was born. Henry’s son had been killed in a car accident and the son’s wife had moved to Austin with Levi and his sister. But Levi had returned every chance he got and lived here now. Like Ethan, Levi never strayed far from his roots.

      Walt and Henry argued like two-bit lawyers and fought like bobcats. That is, they had in their younger days. They’d been there for each other through the bad times, the deaths of both their wives and the death of Henry’s son.

      “Sure you don’t want to go to the Rusty Spur, drink some beer and play dominoes?” Henry asked.

      “Nope. Not going anywhere until my boy comes home.”

      “Levi is on the case and there ain’t nobody better at catching crooks than Levi.”

      “Except Ethan.”

      “Ah, shit...let’s don’t have this argument again.”

      “Then don’t say your grandson is better than my son. And I told you not to cuss in my house.”

      Henry shook his gray head. “You’re getting strange, Walt.”

      “And you’re a baboon.”

      “Stop using them stupid words you made up. If you mean bastard, say bastard.”

      “You’re a hairy baboon with no manners.”

      Henry slapped the table with one of his big paws. “That’s it. I’m going to the Rusty Spur to drink beer, play dominoes and cuss. Real cuss words that’ll burn your ears. Not some stupid ones I made up.”

      “You better go then.”

      “I’m going.” Henry shoved his worn hat onto his head and got to his feet. “I don’t understand why not cussing is so important to you.”

      “Because Ethan asked me not to. He wants to have a good environment for his daughter.”

      Henry leaned in and whispered, “She’s twelve. I know she’s heard cuss words.”

      “It’s what Ethan wants and I’m doing it.”

      “Well, don’t call me a baboon. That’s insulting. If you can’t say bastard, just call me Henry.”

      “Goodbye, Henry.”

      His friend tapped the table with his arthritic knuckles as if to make a point. “I’m sorry about Ethan.”

      “I know.”

      Henry ambled to the door and Walt took the glasses to the sink. Henry’s head was as hard as Walt’s, but they understood each other most of the time. If Henry thought not cussing was easy for him, then he’d better think again. Walt’s tongue was about to fall out of his mouth from sheer lack of use.

      “Hey.”

      Walt turned to see Kelsey standing there. As always, it took a moment for his eyes to adjust. His last good nerve snapped at the word hey. He pointed to a chair. “Sit down.”

      She scurried to a chair and he sat facing her. “Let’s get something straight. Whether you like it or not, I’m your grandpa. You can call me Grandpa, Gramps, Pop or whatever you’re comfortable with, but you will not call me Hey. It’s disrespectful. You got it?”

      She raised her head and looked at him, something she rarely did. Long black hair partially covered her face, but Ethan’s brown eyes stared back at him. “Yeah, but you will not call me girl, gal or alien. You will call me Kel or Kelsey.”

      Damn! She’d heard him say that. His gut knotted tight with guilt.

      “Deal.” He extended his hand across the table. It took a moment, but she finally shook it. “I apologize for calling you an alien. That was out of line. I give you my word as your grandfather I will never do that again.”

      “Deal.” She nodded. “Did they find Ethan?”

      “No. They arrested one of the robbers and they’re questioning him now. I’ll let you know if I hear anything.”

      “Okay.” She stood and twisted on her flip-flops. “Can I have some ice cream?”

      “Kelsey, this is your home now, and you can have any food we have.”

      She shrugged. “I didn’t know. My grandma didn’t have a home and we lived with her older sister. She didn’t like me eating her food. When my grandma died, my mom and me lived in motels or rented rooms.”

      Lordy, Lordy. What a life for a young girl—his granddaughter. A load of guilt hit him right between the eyes as powerful as a butt of a Colt .45. For Ethan’s daughter, he had to do better.

      “You have a home now and can eat whatever you want.”

      She opened the freezer, took out an ice-cream bar, and ran to her room.

      Walt went out onto the deck and sank into a chair. Rowdy lay at his feet. He gazed past the chain-link fence to his pastureland. Cows lay in the shade of several big live oak trees out of the stifling heat. He’d check the water troughs later to make sure they had enough to drink. In this heat, they needed constant water. Wherever Ethan was, he prayed he wasn’t in the heat.

      Walt leaned forward, bowed his head, and clasped his hands together. “Lord, I’ve been talking to You a lot in the past few hours and You might find that strange since I haven’t talked to You in years. Maureen, my wife, was a religious woman, and she talked to You daily. I figured that pretty much covered the bases for me. But there comes a time in a man’s life when he has to confront his maker alone. For me, that’s today. My boy’s been taken by some thugs. You probably know that, right? He’s a good man. You know that, too. He has a twelve-year-old daughter who needs him. I don’t know a thing about little girls, but I’ll do my best until You return Ethan to us. That’s all I’m asking, Lord. Watch over Ethan. Kelsey needs him. I need him, too. Thanks for listening.”

      He got up and went back into the house with a purpose—to forge a bond with his granddaughter. It didn’t matter what she looked like on the outside. Inside she was a scared little girl needing a home, family and love. Wrestling a steer to the ground might be easier than reaching Kelsey. But grandpas didn’t give up. And that’s who he was—Grandpa.

      * * *

      THE LIGHT-HEADEDNESS CONTINUED and Abby floated in and out of the clouds. Ethan’s hand rested on her hip as they walked and she knew she was okay. Weird thoughts ran through her head. Had she told Ethan she’d been waiting for him all her life? No. She hadn’t said that out loud. She was almost positive. Besides, she’d only known him a few hours. But inside her heart was a certainty that their souls had connected.

      Ethan stopped and she glanced up. They’d reached the small weatherworn wood cabin. There was nothing but dirt around it. What little grass had been there had died. It wasn’t as run-down as the other cabin, and a porch graced the front. She sank onto the stoop.

      “Rest,” Ethan said. “I’ll check things out.”

      She lay on the wood flooring, totally spent. Suddenly a slight breeze touched her skin. Opening her eyes, she sat up. The breeze continued. She pulled the wet blouse from her skin and fanned it. Heavenly. After a moment, her mind cleared.

      “Ethan.”

      He strolled from the side of the cabin. “What?”

      “The wind.”

      “Yeah. It’s picked up.” He glanced toward the sun. “It’s probably about seven o’clock and the sun is going down.”

      “We get a break.”

      “Yeah.” He eyed her. “Do you feel better?”

      “Yes.” There was something different in his gaze. Was he worried about her? She cleared