The slight Texas breeze that had cooled the summer air at dawn wilted.  Now midmorning, the sun pushed the lazy, lingering clouds aside.  Pounding horse hooves sent dust swirling in their wake.  It was heating up.

Rocking along in the stagecoach, Chesa was ready for the final leg of her journey from Virginia to be over.  Fortunately her train had arrived early.  A stage was waiting right outside the train station and a young clerk confirmed it was leaving immediately for Laredo.  With no other passengers waiting for the stage, the clerk had her trunk transferred from the train to the stagecoach quickly.  She didn't have to spend the night here as planned and endure yet another day of travel to reach her destination.  A late arrival was her only travelling companion.  A quiet, stocky man nodded, acknowledged her presence, and busied himself studying a stack of papers.

Her thoughts turned to Laredo.  What was the town like?  It's people?  As a woman in the legal profession would she face similar challenges to acceptance in Laredo as Williamsburg?   Chesa smiled thinking of the contrast between her aspirations and those of her childhood friend, Leah.  Leah loved the peacefulness of Williamsburg, the daily routine of teaching her students and giving parties.  Chesa on the other hand couldn't seem to settle down.  She had loved the challenge of studying and learning the law at the university.  After several years of doing research and note-taking for her mentors, some of whom were the finest law practitioners in Virginia, she was once again ready to test her mettle.  Much to her parents' chagrin, she had inherited too much of her father's youthful adventurous and sometimes rebellious spirit.  Through regular letter exchanges a classmate, Jimmy Hayes, who found his way to the Governor's office in Austin, kept her informed of the more exciting work he was involved in.   It contrasted colorfully with the dry civil cases and document preparation which most often occupied Chesa's day.

Chesa seized upon her opportunity when her father shared a letter from his friend Captain Parmalee in Laredo.  Texas!  With Jimmy's letters fueling her dreams, her parents couldn't ignore the willful determination in their daughter's eyes.  Her father couldn't refuse her what he knew he would have done himself.  She wanted her work to make a difference and felt it could in a place that lacked enough legal practitioners. Webb County, in which Laredo was the biggest town, was one such place.

Now here she was looking out the stage window across rolling hills, inhaling dust, excited and anxious.  They were close to Laredo according to the driver, whatever Laredo looked like.  She hadn't asked Captain Parmalee about that.  It hadn't been important.

Chesa was shaken out of her thoughts when the stage came to an abrupt halt.  She looked out.  No buildings.  No town yet.  Four men with guns drawn were the reason for the unexpected stop.  Chesa dropped to the floor, her heart pounding so loudly she couldn't hear the exchange between the driver and one of the men.  Her travelling companion lay across his seat to avoid being seen through his window.   Men shouted.  Guns fired.  More guns returned fire.  How many men were out there?  The gunfire stopped, replaced with what sounded like a scuffle.  Chesa ventured a look.  Three new men had appeared and gained the advantage over the four who stopped the stage.

One man, about six feet in height, with a slender build and a charming smile approached the stage asking if she was all right.  She mumbled "yes" while she took in the man lying on the ground behind him, blood oozing from a shot taken in the chest.  Another man appeared to be unconscious although no blood was evident from her vantage point.  She looked out the other side of the stage.  Closest to her, the second of the three men, a stocky, older man, pinned a holdup man to the ground threatening to string him to the branch overhead if he didn't talk.  The third man, taller than his two companions with broad shoulders and muscular arms, had yet another holdup man's face pressed into a tree and his arm twisted behind him almost up to his neck.  She heard the big man call the other Coltrane.  He said something to him which she couldn't make out.  When Coltrane didn't respond the big man pushed his twisted arm further up his back eliciting a painful outcry.  Who are these men?

Chesa looked up at the stage driver with questioning eyes. He assured her with a big toothy grin "No need to worry now, Ma'am, these three are Texas Rangers.  They'll take care of things."

Texas Rangers?  Part of Captain Parmalee's company?  This can't be.  The holdup men, without question, had been subdued.  Why the continued rough handling?  Surely the Captain didn't condone such actions.

Unable to take this any longer, Chesa opened the door and found she had to jump rather than step down.  Just as she did, the big Ranger, appearing satisfied with an answer he’d gotten, released Coltrane's arm to a less painful position and handed him off to the stocky Ranger who herded all three prisoners to their horses.

She glared at the big Ranger. "You bullied that man.  Why? You had already overpowered him."

"Ma'am?"  the big Ranger looked at her confused.

The slender Ranger stepped in.  He had appeared from the other side of the stage. "The name’s Chad Cooper ma'am and there's no sense in worrying your pretty little head over these men.  We'll take care of 'em, right to the Laredo jail.  Now let me just give you a hand up into the stage."

Still shocked at the scene she’d just witnessed, Chesa pulled her arm away from Cooper.  "I'll help myself up into the stage Mr. Cooper."  She then realized the step was more than she’d bargained for.  Those trim fitting skirts she liked to wear were a disadvantage when it came to stagecoaches.  So much for propriety.  Chesa hiked her skirt up to her knees, extended her foot up to the step, let go of her skirt and grabbed for the handholds pulling herself up.

Arriving in Laredo…

The Rangers rode alongside the stage keeping the prisoners under their watchful eyes for the duration of the trip into Laredo.  As the stage rolled into town, Chesa looked across at the man seated opposite her.  He had regained his composure but still looked about him nervously as if the stage could be attacked again at any moment.  She too had recovered, somewhat, from the terror she felt when the stage had been stopped.  Somewhat.  She doubted the full impact had hit her.  Captain Parmalee met the stage but his greeting was not what she had expected.

"What are you doing on this stage?" he demanded with not so much as a smile.  "According to your wire you're scheduled to arrive on tomorrow's stage."  He then summoned a couple of men, presumably Rangers, to stay with the stage.  Looking at the three Rangers watching over the prisoners, he asked "Any trouble?"  They indicated none, other than the dead man whose body was draped over his horse.   He motioned for a couple more Rangers to take the prisoners to jail.

Chesa noted there were a lot of Rangers waiting for that stage and it wasn't due to her arrival.  No one had known she’d even be on this stage.

The Captain had noticeably calmed by the time she’d taken in the whole scene.  He looked at the three Rangers standing around him, then to her, "Meet Chesa Sherwood.  Daughter of an old friend of mine.  She's from Virginia and a lawyer who’s ready to go to work here in Webb County."  He particularly emphasized the last part, pride evident in his voice.  As the three looked from one to the other, the Captain continued, looking first at the one she already knew as Cooper.  "Chad Cooper."  Next he gestured to the big Ranger, "Joe Riley."  And to the stocky Ranger, "Reese Bennett."

All three tipped their hats accompanied with a polite "Ma'am."

The Captain addressed the Rangers, "I'll get Chesa settled in at Mrs. Morton's.  Be in my office in one hour."

Joe stood quietly watching the Captain and Chesa round the corner and out of sight.

Chad's voice broke into Joe's thoughts.  "Well now, a lawyer.  Think I'll just have to ask the lady to dinner.  Make sure she gets acquainted with the best of Laredo."  As Chad turned on his heel and headed for the saloon, Joe could tell he was already anticipating the evening ahead.

"Yeah, acquainted with you!  A purty female ain't in town two minutes afore you're a fallin' allllll over yerself to git close to her."  Reese knew Chad all too well.

Chad threw up his arms and turned midstride to face his cantankerous partner.  "Reese!  She's a friend of the Captain's.  Jus' wanna give her a proper welcome.  Why, after all, she had a terrifyin' introduction when that stage was held up.  Just might need some comfortin'."  Chad's mind was already working on the evening's plans.

"Weellllll, what makes you so sure Miz Sherwood wants to see the sights of Laredo with you, huh?"  Reese countered.  "Didn't seem to want no help from you a gettin' back in that stage if'n I recollect."

"Didn't need none."  Joe recalled the curve of the slender leg that had unexpectedly caught his attention when Chesa climbed back up into the stage unassisted.

Chad was undaunted, "I got five dollars says she has dinner with me tonight."

Reese rubbed his jaw, mulling over the wager. He knew Chad could be powerfully persuasive when he set his mind to it.  He'd keep his money.  "No bet.  What you say Joe?"  Joe was vaguely aware of Reese speaking to him.  "Joe," he said more insistently.

Joe had pushed his hat back and was studying on the slender lawyer with the dark brown hair and intense blue eyes they’d just been introduced to.  She’d been scared, no doubt about that, but she’d been bold enough to confront him over bullying Coltrane without even knowing the particulars. One thing for sure, she had a lot to learn about Texas.   "What?"  He said irritably when forced back to the moment by Reese slapping him on the shoulder.

"Ooohhhhh" Reese growled.  "Chad's a bettin' Miz Sherwood will have dinner with him tonight.  What you say?"

Joe scratched his head considering.  Settling his hat back on his head and looking first to Reese then to Chad, he smiled.  "Ten dollars the lady says no."  And he headed off to the saloon.

The Captain left Chesa to settle in after explaining why he'd greeted her in the manner he had.  The Clark, Gruber and Company, a private mint in Denver, had been purchased by the U.S. Mint several years ago.  Currently it was being used as an assay office instead of for the coinage of gold as originally intended.  Even the stage driver was unaware of the precious cargo his stage was secretly transporting, another set of coinage dies for the mint.  Captain Parmalee's Rangers had been chosen to see the dies safely delivered to Denver.  The stage was supposed to arrive in Laredo without any passengers, pick up some Rangers, and head north.  When he left Chesa, the Captain was still perplexed over whether Coltrane knew what it was carrying or if it was a random robbery.

Chesa set to unpacking some of her things.  Looking around the small but well-appointed room she realized this wouldn't do for long.  She needed more space and right now she wished she had her own kitchen to fix some soup and tea and relax in the privacy of her thoughts.  However, Mrs. Morton was waiting downstairs so she figured to make the most of the visit by inquiring after a small place in town or close by that she could rent.  Turned out she was in luck.  A young couple currently renting the small house next to the boarding house would be moving to New Orleans within the next two weeks to be closer to the man's elderly parents.  Chesa worked out the arrangements with Mrs. Morton right away to take occupancy.

While the two women were in the midst of their discussion, Ranger Cooper dropped by.  After trading pleasantries, he extended a dinner invitation to Chesa.  She had just spent several days travelling to Laredo and was in no mood to put up with a man who spoke in an exaggerated southern accent and fancied himself a ladies man.  What was he thinking?  She politely refused him despite his persistence and promise to return her early in the evening.  When he left, Mrs. Morton gently chided her for refusing 'such a charming young man' as she referred to him.  Under other circumstances she might have accepted and might still accept should he ask again but not tonight.  The robbery attempt was starting to sink in and she wanted to be alone for the time being.

Lounging against the bar of the Laredo saloon, Joe was finishing up his second beer when Chad came into the saloon whistling.  Without turning to look at his partner Joe extended his hand to Chad, snapping his fingers.  "Ten dollars you owe me."

"Now hold on there Joe.  Chesa and I may be dining later in the evening."  Chad lied, planning to return to Mrs. Morton's a while later to ask Chesa to dinner once again and hoping she would accept this time.

Snapping his fingers again, Joe turned to Chad, arm still extended.

"Joe!  You sayin' you don't believe me?"

"Chad, if Miz Sherwood had agreed to dinner you wouldn'ta been back here so soon.  You'da still been spoutin' that charmin' stuff you do with women.  Ten dollars boy.  Pay up."  Joe smiled.  He enjoyed watching Chad squirm, especially since Chad didn't take it too well being turned down by a pretty lady.  It almost seemed a shame to take his money.  Almost.

"Oh all right Joe.  But she was tired.  Wanted to rest.  How's about we let that bet ride for tomorrow night?"  Chad was never one to admit defeat.

"We'll be with 'at stage headin' north tomorrow."  Joe reminded him.

Chad frowned at Joe and relinquished the money.  "Now how's about buying me a beer then?"

Leaning back in her chair, Chesa stretched her aching shoulder and back muscles.  When she looked outside she realized it had gotten very late.  Time seemed to slip away from her when she was engrossed in research for a new case.  The grumbling from her stomach added its bit too.  Chesa called it a night.  She locked the office and headed out to her place.  She suddenly became aware of heavy footsteps behind her and, without stopping, quickly looked over her shoulder to see if she could determine who it might be.  When she did so she thought she glimpsed someone move into the walkway between the buildings.

Staying alert, she continued on but quickened her pace.  Who would be following her?  Coltrane had been broken out of the Laredo jail just after the Captain and several Rangers headed out of town with the stage transporting the coinage dies.  That had been a couple weeks ago.  If Coltrane was following her did he think she was connected with those coinage dies in any way?  The same footsteps again.  Faster now.  They matched her pace.  Again, she looked over her shoulder in an attempt to see who was there.  The footsteps stopped.  Had he given up or reached his destination?  She thought she saw a shadow lurking in a doorway behind her but didn't stop to investigate.  She continued at the same pace and the footsteps returned.  Just across the street the dim light from the saloon spilled out into the street.  Chesa eased up her skirt with her free hand, bounded across the street and onto the boardwalk. She moved quickly toward the bat wing doors and the welcome noise from within.   As she reached the door, she gave one final look back across the street to the place she just left and caught sight of a shadowy figure in a different doorway.  Or was it?

Smack!  Two men crashed through the saloon's swinging doors sending half the door into her arm just as she faced forward.  They landed in a heap at her feet.  The bigger man landed a punch on the other's face and that ended the brawl.  She immediately recognized the two that followed.  Bennett pushed through the door. "Ha, HAA!  Ya got 'im Joe."  Cooper followed and was the first to notice Chesa standing there, -- and her startled expression.  Riley, having subdued his opponent, waved aside the lady's skirt hem brushing his face.   He looked up recognizing its owner as Miss Chesa Sherwood, lady lawyer.  The fun of the brawl gone, Joe quickly jumped to his feet dragging Waverly up with him, slapped him on the back, and shoved him down the street with a stern "Git on home now."

Chad, concern reflected in his voice, slipped his arm around her waist. "Miss Sherwood, you alright now?  Joe here didn't scare ya too much did he?  They're just havin' some fun now.  Ole Reese here and Joe had a bet, see, and. . . ."

Reese’s gravel voice butted in,  "What in the world are ya doin' out so late anywho?  No woman should be out a walkin' by herself this time a night."

Joe, known for his good eye, was the one who noticed Chesa's quivering lip in the dim light from the saloon.  "Sorry, ma'am."  He paused studying her face.  "Is there somet'n goin' on we don't know about?"

Chesa finally got a grip on her fear now that she was surrounded by Rangers.  "I was finishing up some research and the time slipped by.  I thought someone was following me, but…."

Reese, "Well, did you or didn't ya see 'im?"

Chesa, no longer sure of herself, acknowledged "It could just have been my overactive imagination."

Reese took her sore arm, missing her wince. "Weeellll now, just in case I'll jus make sure you get home safely Miz Sherwood."

Incredulous that Reese was so quick, Chad looked after the two disappearing figures moving along the boardwalk.  "Did you see that?"

Joe chuckled at Chad's missed opportunity with Miss Sherwood.  "Boy, you're gettin' slow lettin' ole Reese beat you like 'at."  And throwing his shoulders back, emphasizing his full height, he looked sideways at Chad, "Sad" he said in mock sympathy and ambled back into the saloon to finish his beer.

Chad looked at Joe's disappearing back, shrugged and followed him into the saloon.

####

Chesa didn't sleep well after her scare and arrived at the office early.  Her mind returned time after time to the footsteps and shadows.  She had heard footsteps start, stop, start.  Therefore the figures she thought she saw must also have been real.  The roughness of a western town she’d anticipated prior to accepting the job and leaving Virginia.  Her personal safety was now in question.  A change of strategy was needed.  She'd talk with Mrs. Morton about it later.  Or maybe even Captain Parmalee.  These case notes needed her immediate attention.

In the Ranger barracks, Joe woke early.  Something about that lawyer lady being spooked the previous night bothered him.  She hadn't insisted she was being followed or asked for their help.  Yet from her expression it was clear she believed someone was deliberately stalking her.  Joe dressed and left the barracks while Reese and Chad were still sound asleep.  He headed out for some breakfast.  Approaching Chesa's law office, he saw movement inside.  He stopped, took a better look, and saw Chesa just seating herself at her desk.  He knocked on the door.

The unexpected knock at the door caused Chesa to jump.  Recognizing the Ranger she unlocked and opened it.  "Good morning Mr. Riley."

"Mornin' Miss Sherwood."

Chesa waved her hand.  "Chesa, please.  Please call me Chesa."

"OK, it's Joe."  He paused noting how tired she looked.  "You see or hear anyone ‘round your place last night?  Later, I mean, after Reese saw you home?"

"No, it was quiet all night.  I know.  I was awake through most of it."  She tried to force a smile.

"Ma'am."  Joe stopped.  "Chesa.  This part of the country is pretty rough.  You saw that comin' into town.  Now, you have to be smart to be a lawyer but did you think about ways of protectin' yourself before you left home?"  He wasn't sure how Chesa was going to take that question.

"I know Texas isn't Virginia Mister…I mean, Joe!" Chesa exclaimed.  "I know I need to make some adjustments living here."

Exasperating woman, he thought, but she had owned up to her situation.  Joe hesitantly ventured another question.  "Do you by any chance have some experience with a weapon?"

Chesa stood, put her hands on her waist.  "Are you suggesting a gunbelt to sling around these hips?"

Joe, amused at the mental picture her suggestion conjured up, removed his knife from its sheath, held it up before her eyes, and suppressing a smile he countered "No Chesa.  A knife, smaller than this one a course, is much easier to hide in a boot or even a fancy shoe."

She realized he had hit upon the truth of her apparent defenselessness and was offering one solution.  Cooling her heels she seated herself and thought about what he said.  "Are you offering lessons?" she challenged.  "If I carry any weapon I plan to know how to use it.  Properly."

Joe was momentarily taken aback.  He hadn't planned on that response.  Not one to back away himself, "I could show you a few ways to protect yerself with a knife, yes."

"How 'bout this afternoon?" she asked matter-of-factly.

"I'll check with Cap'n Parmalee for a coupla hours off."

Chesa and Joe head for the stream …

With Chesa at least hitting the tree, if not all that close to the mark Joe had indicated, he left her to practice and started gathering firewood.  Her focus and determination impressed him as well as the fact that she took to it so quickly.  Despite the brilliant afternoon sun, a drop in the temperature was noticeable.  After Joe got the fire blazing, Chesa stopped her knife throwing, feeling a small measure of accomplishment.  She grabbed her saddlebag and plopped herself down on a short length of fallen tree trunk near the fire.  The flames easily lured her into their trance as they danced about.

"Hungry?"  Joe's voice diverted her eyes from the flames to his eyes as he looked down at her.

"Um?"  Chesa barely had the presence of mind to mutter as she quickly diverted her eyes back to the fire.

"Worked up an appetite yet?"

"Oh yes, forgive my manners.  I made some sandwiches.  And brought some apples."  Chesa quickly reached for the saddlebag feeling a little embarrassed she hadn't been considerate of the time. They had been gone most of the afternoon.

"How's about somethin' different?" Grinning, he sat down by her side on what little space remained of the tree trunk she occupied.

"Different?"  she questioned.

"I had somethin' else in mind for supper."  Looking sideways across his shoulder, he locked her eyes in his gaze for a moment before turning away.  She watched him casually untie the holster tether from his leg, unbuckle his gunbelt and slip it from around his hip, laying it across the tree trunk between them.  He then proceeded to pull his boots and socks off.  Chesa froze when Joe eased his shirt out of his pants undoing the few remaining buttons just below his huge chest.  Slipping his shirt off as he stood up and casually tossing it on top of his boots he flashed her a boyish smile, chuckled and slid his knife out of it's sheath.

"Mighty good eatin' fish in that stream this time a year.  Bet you haven't had a meal like that since leavin' Virginia, have you?"

Chesa could feel the blood creeping up her neck to her face at that very moment and was thankful Joe was making his way toward the stream and wouldn't witness her utter embarrassment.  However, she reminded herself, he was probably too perceptive to have missed it.  Despite giving it her best try, she could not take her eyes from his well-muscled body moving with an easy grace into the stream.  Slowly wading to mid-thigh, he stood completely motionless knife poised in mid air for what seemed like an agonizing length of time.  Chesa jumped, startled, when his knife sliced into the water.  The left hand swiftly followed the right and both emerged with the prize firmly in their grasp - a gleaming two foot silver fish.  Excited, Chesa jumped up and ran to the stream meeting Joe at the water's edge.  With an approving smile and admiration glowing in her eyes, Chesa declared, "I want a closer look at supper."

Almost dusk found Chad still looking for Joe.  Finally spotting him entering the Ranger barracks, Chad quickly crossed the street and followed him up the stairs.  He'd been determined to find out his partner's whereabouts for the better part of the day.  Entering the room full of bunks Chad noticed Joe was already stretched out on his upper bunk, arms folded over his head.

Joe grinned as Chad's spurs announced his presence before his demanding question.  "Just where have you been all day?"

Joe, slightly raising his head, ignored Chad's question and instead responded "You know you're a noisy critter.  How you 'spect a man to git any rest with you around?"

Chad didn’t take the bait, "I just saw you come in here so's you ain't been a sleepin'.  Now where've you been?"

Joe casually slipped his knife out of its sheath, toying with the blade and pretending to study it, all the while his calmness and silence further fueled Chad's irritation.

"WELL?" Chad demanded.

Without expending any effort to sit up, Joe stopped toying with his knife, slowly turned his face towards Chad, and answered "Fishin'", then turned his face back to his knife with a sly half grin Chad couldn't see.

Chad was infuriated, "Fishin'?  All afternoon?  OK, where are they?"

"What?"  Joe purposely adding to Chad's frustration.

"The fish, that's what?"

"Ate it" calmly came the answer as he ran his finger down the length of the knife blade.

"How come you never do the fishin' when we're on assignment?  You don't even pack wire for hooks.  NO, NO.  No fishin'.  Now what were you really doin'?" Chad shook his head vehemently as he strode over to Joe's bunk.

Joe slowly rolled onto his side coming eye level with Chad.  "See Chad, the trick is to slowly wade out midways in the stream careful-like so's not to stir up too much silt.  Then stand reeaallll still, and quiet.  After a spell, why, those fish get curious.  Come right up to your leg."  Chad followed Joe's eyes to the hand resting on his thigh firmly gripping the handle of his knife.  "When a good one shows up….. " WHACK!  Chad jumped as Joe's lightning fast arm sent the blade deep into the bedframe between them. Joe lowered his voice to a whisper "When you're quiet, ya don't need fishin' poles.  Or hooks.  'Sides, it's never quiet enough for my kind of fishin' with you 'n Reese around."  With a gloating smile at having caught Chad off guard, Joe pulled the knife out of his bedframe.

While he didn’t entirely believe Joe, Chad had to concede.  He wasn’t getting anywhere.  Walking toward the barracks door he looked back at Joe one more time.  "Fishin'?"

Joe rolled back onto his back and slid the knife safely back in it's sheath.  "Fishin'."

As Chad disappeared beyond the closing door Joe again smiled at having outsmarted ole Chad, not letting onto his afternoon's doings but telling him the truth all at the same time.  Stretching his arms back over his head, he quickly dropped off to a peaceful sleep.

It was a gorgeous summer morning, the birds were chattering in the tree outside her window and Chesa was excited.  She was meeting Mrs. Claire Tanner, her first client.  Mrs. Tanner had left a note with Mr. Deming requesting a meeting at her ranch just outside Laredo.  Mrs. Tanner hadn't disclosed the particulars, only that she wanted Chesa to handle it.  First she had to find out how to get to the ranch.  Knowing Captain Parmalee would be at his desk in the Ranger office, she opted to ask him.  Besides, she hadn’t seen as much of him as she originally intended when she moved west.  He’d been especially busy the past month.  She dressed in a simple white blouse, black trousers, and boots.  She brushed the hair at the sides of her face up into combs, grabbed a hat, gloves and her saddlebag and headed for the Captain's office.

"Good morning," she smiled, entering his office.

"Now it's a good morning.  Judging from your choice of attire I'd say you're going riding.  And where to and with whom I might ask?" A little fatherly concern edged into his voice.

"Mrs. Tanner's ranch; my first client.  I understand she lives not too far out of town and I'm here to ask for directions" she answered excitedly.

"And the 'with whom' part of my question?" he pressed.

"No one unless you care to ride along."

"I'll just do that.  Give me a chance to hear how working for Deming is going as well as how you like living in the house on your own.  Has to be better than the boarding house room."  He grinned knowing she had been anxious for a place of her own to do her own cooking and have some of her own things from home.

Mrs. Tanner was waiting for them when they rode up.  The ride was a short one and the road was busy with people coming and going into town so the Captain was confident Chesa would have a safe return to town without him along.  He left the two women and headed back to town.  After offering Chesa a glass of lemonade, Mrs. Tanner got straight to business, a trait that quickly endeared the little lady to Chesa.  Claire Tanner was in her sixties, silver haired, dressed in a manly fashion and never without the rifle now resting across her lap.

"Ms. Sherwood" she started.  She hadn't missed Chesa eyeing the rifle.  "I don't much trust men.  They've tried to wrangle my land from me, take my ranch, and steal what little actual money I do have.  Spenser and I give 'em fair warning."  She patted the barrel of the rifle named Spenser for emphasis.

"I understand.  Or think I understand Mrs. Tanner.  And please call me Chesa."  She got her paper ready to take notes.  "Now how can I help you?"  Chesa took notes as Mrs. Tanner spelled out her request -- a will drawn up with provisions made for the financial support of her granddaughter Stacey.  She ended by emphasizing Chesa was to be the administrator of the funds.  On that note Chesa stopped writing.

"Mrs. Tanner, you appear to be very healthy and while I understand your concern for Stacey's welfare I don't see an immediate concern.  As for my involvement, I may not be in Laredo very long.  I think you should choose someone else to administer your bequest but I can set everything up for you."

"You're gonna be around.  I can tell."  Mrs. Tanner countered confidently.  Before Chesa could ask how she arrived at that conclusion, Mrs. Tanner answered her "You like challenge, same as me, or you wouldn't be here.  It's why you came west, just like I did years ago.  Couldn't even leave when my husband passed on just shortly after we settled here."  And with that piece of business completed in her mind she moved to the next piece.  "Now Chesa, what manner of protectin' yourself do you have?  A woman on her own has ta be able to stand up to no goods, show 'em you mean to hurt 'em if you have to."

Again with the weapons.  "Well Mrs. Tanner I have had some practice with a knife."

"Well let's see it."

"I don't own one myself.  Yet.  I practiced with someone else's."

"Need more 'n that.  Why don't you try my rifle?  That'll get a man's attention right quick."  And before Chesa could protest she set 'Spenser' in her hands.

Chesa had shot her father's rifle on only one occasion under his supervision just to see what it was like.  Her father had held the gun.  Chesa had aimed it and pulled the trigger.  And that was the extent of her involvement with guns of any kind.  Now she was holding Mrs. Tanner's.  Chesa stood exactly as Mrs. Tanner showed her, placed the butt of the rifle against her shoulder as instructed, sited her target along the barrel and pulled the trigger.  The rifle butt painfully rammed into her shoulder, knocking her on her butt but the bullet hit its mark.  Sort of.  Way to the left side of the two feet wide tree a hundred yards away.

When Mrs. Tanner finally stopped laughing she wiped away the tears and extended a helping hand to Chesa.  "Think we better start you out with something different.  Rifle doesn't usually have that much kick but I guess it took you by surprise."

"Good idea" she mumbled rubbing her aching shoulder and hip.  Now she knew why her father had held the rifle.

Chesa was reminded of the experience during the entire slow and painful ride back to town.  She arrived at her office just after noon dismounting slowly against her protesting aches.

Joe sat at a corner table of the Laredo saloon staring at nothing in particular while men wandered in, had a beer or two, and wandered out.  With a foot propped up on a nearby chair he pushed his chair back on two legs rocking back and forth considering the upcoming evening.  Chesa had invited him to supper at her place to thank him for the instruction he had given her with his knife.  Was a nice gesture and he'd remembered the Captain saying she was a good cook.  He’d told himself he’d be a fool to turn down a good meal, especially one cooked by a woman who’d turned down the chance to share a meal with Chad.  Now he wasn't so sure about that invite.  Did she expect him to come dressed up with a jacket and all?  Hope she wouldn’t fix anything fancy. Hell, she didn't need to do anything like that.  A simple lunch and thank you would've been enough.  Well, he'd just stop by her office on the way out of town and tell her not to go to any trouble.  Best get to moving.  He still had to round up Cotton after seeing Ches.

Joe rode up as Chesa dismounted her horse and stepped onto the boardwalk outside her office.

"Me and Cotton are headin' out for patrol.  'Spect to be back around dusk.  Least that's when Chad and Reese are sposed to relieve us.  When you plannin' on that supper?"  Joe asked.

"Dusk is fine.  Why don't you stop by on your way back in?" Chesa suggested.

Whew.  Chesa just answered the question he hadn't wanted to ask.  Getting all gussied up like Chad usually did when he entertained some fancy lady didn't appeal to Joe.  "I'll at least wash up before arrivin'." He tipped his hat and headed out with a smile.

A Thank You dinner for Joe…

Joe arrived at Chesa's just before dusk not quite knowing what to expect.  He’d put on a clean shirt but it wasn’t any fancier than the one he’d worn on patrol.  He was relieved she still wore the same blouse and trousers she had on earlier in the day.  And the house was filled with the warm inviting smell of apple pie.  Good start.  And he let out a slow easy breath.

"Would you prefer dining in or out?"

"Say what?"

"There's just enough of a breeze to cool the air.  I thought of moving this small table out onto the back porch to enjoy it.  Unless you'd prefer to eat inside."

"Outside suits me."  Joe helped her carry the small table out to the porch.  He carried the two chairs out and watched her spread a light pink cotton tablecloth over the table followed by white and blue china and silver flatware -- things she must have brought from home.

"Do you like lemonade?" Chesa called over her shoulder as she headed back into the house.

"Sure" he answered to her departing back.

She re-emerged with two heavy goblets filled with the tangy beverage handing one to him, setting the other on the table.  "Sit down and make yourself comfortable.  Supper's about ready."  She smiled and headed out to where he saw a small fire.

Instead of sitting, he followed her out of curiosity.  "What ya roastin' there?" asking as he peered over her shoulder while she knelt to baste the chicken.

"A couple young chickens Mrs. Tanner gave me."  She looked up to see he seemed pleased with her choice for dinner.

"What are you puttin' on 'em?"

"Brushing them with an oil and herb mixture.  This is my mother's favorite way to fix chicken.  Hope it's suitable for a Texan's palate.  I know how taste in food varies from one part of the country to another.”

"Smells good."  Licking his lips he could almost taste it already. This was going better than he’d expected so far.

"I'll get the platter and you can help me get them off the fire."

After Chesa brought out the remainder of the meal and they began eating, Joe relaxed completely, realizing he shouldn't have spent the day stewing over the evening.  Chesa had fixed a simple but delicious meal. With the roasted chickens, fresh green beans, potatoes, and rolls plus apple pie to follow, it wasn’t that different from the kind of meal he sometimes got at the local café, just much more carefully prepared.  And it was her suggestion that fingers worked better than forks on chicken.   She was from back east yet she didn't quite act the way he'd seen other eastern ladies act.  The thought found voice and tumbled out before he could stop it.

"Ches, you're not like mosta the fancy women I've seen from back east," Joe blurted out before diving into another piece of chicken.

Chesa wasn't sure what sparked that comment but she would take a stab at a response.  "You mean the high fa lutin’ prim and prissy ones with hats, parasols, and lace gloves who can't manage to cross the street without assistance?" she quipped, her voice tinged with sarcasm.  As Joe's chewing slowed and before he started backtracking, she rescued him.  "That's probably typical of most the ladies who do travel west.  They or their families have the financial means to maintain an elaborate life style.  I'm from a middle of the road family.  Neither wealthy nor poor.  We work steadily to have what we do."  She noticed he had eased back down in his chair.

Relieved she hadn't taken his comment too seriously, Joe pressed on.  "Sposin' you shed some light on your kinda Virginia lady.  Kind I'm not used to seein'."  His dark eyes twinkled as he resumed work on his plate.

She explained how her father owned a lumber mill, how she earned college money doing his accounting ledgers, and the deal she worked out with the neighbor to acquire additional land to expand the mill without draining all her family's available cash.  "So we're not real fancy people" she finished.

Joe had more questions ready.  "So why'd you come west?"

"Thought the work would be more challenging.  I wanted to feel that the work I did contributed more in the way of helping people than the types of cases I worked on in Williamsburg."

"People here may need it but can't pay for lawyer'n like they can back east.  Nice 'n all you wantin' to help but ya can't do it for nuthin'.  You got ta pay for things too."  He indicated with his eyes her house.

"That's where the barter system comes in handy.  Trading a service for a service.  Product for product.  Take, for instance, Mrs. Tanner.  She gave me some cash for the work I'm starting for her plus the two chickens we're enjoying and the apples in that pie I'll bring out when supper's settled.  Then there's Mrs. Morton who already owns this house.  She decreased the rent in exchange for chores I can handle for her.  Washing the outside windows on the upper floors since she can't climb a ladder any longer.  Dragging the heavy rugs out for dusting.  Mopping the floors, especially since carrying the water bucket hurts her back.  Now she doesn't have to sell the boarding house."

Joe's brow furrowed as a thought crossed his mind.  He didn't want to think this supper was another part of Chesa's bartering system.  Did she think she had to give him something in exchange for the afternoon they spent at the stream?  He knew she appreciated it.  He’d hoped maybe there was something more to it.  "So is supper part of your tradin' plan for the other afternoon?" he asked tentatively, not sure he wanted to hear the answer.

"Not quite" came a matter-of-fact answer.  Chesa knew she couldn't blurt out that she felt drawn to him.  It was too girlish despite the truth of it. Carefully considering her words she continued.  "If we were bartering I could have traded some sort of future legal service.  Since you didn't mention any sort of repayment for your time and expertise, my sincere thanks might have been sufficient.  So my supper invitation is a way to express my appreciation since I know you like to eat and I enjoyed your company that afternoon."  She stopped.  That was enough.  He looked so relaxed, chair tilted back against the house, legs stretched out and feet propped on a bucket he'd scooted over from the edge of the porch.  Right now she just wanted to look at him.  Hmmm.

Joe was pleased and just a little surprised to have this educated woman, who’d rejected at least two dinner invites from Chad, say she enjoyed his company.   He’d enjoyed her company that afternoon and this evening as well, once he’d relaxed enough.  "We'll git that knife for you and do more practicin' soon."

"Supper settled enough to add some apple pie and coffee to it?"

"Why sure."

Chesa pushed her chair back to stand and had to stop when her aching muscles protested.  Pushing through the pain she headed for the door but not without Joe noticing first.

"You hurt Ches?" concern evident in his voice.

"My pride mostly" she grimaced.  "Mrs. Tanner insisted I give a rifle a try."  She rubbed her shoulder.  "My shoulder's already turning lovely shades of purple.  And Spenser, the rifle, took me by surprise with its little kick.  I was dropped on my backside before the bullet hit the tree."  She thought about her sore hip but just thought about it, didn't rub it although it ached as much as her shoulder.

Out of respect for Chesa, Joe successfully managed to keep the smile off his face as he pictured her firing a rifle.  "Why don't you let me help you carry that coffee and pie out."  But when she turned to thank him he had to ask "Gonna tackle that rifle agin anytime soon?  Now that I'd like to see" the chuckle finding its way out when she smiled.

Chesa couldn't suppress her own laughter then, realizing what kind of picture Joe must be visualizing.  She admitted to herself it had been a funny sight.

An assignment took Joe, Chad, Reese, and Cotton out of town for the better part of two weeks so outfitting Chesa with her own knife was postponed.  The afternoon he did stop at her office he almost insisted she take the time right then before another assignment took him away.  Chesa saw the tired eyes and figured he'd been tracking for most of that time.  He also had an edginess in his voice that didn't set easy with her.  She almost had to run to match his pace as they headed for the outfitters store.  Just as they reached the door she put a hand on his forearm.  "What's the rush?  Does this have anything to do with who you've been trailing?"

"Coltrane."  The rock hard set of his jaw and intense brown eyes conveyed his determination.  "Slipped outta our hands agin.  We're headin' back out to relieve the ones that's still lookin' and I'd feel more at ease knowin' you were carryin' somethin' to protect yourself."

Better than an hour later Chesa had purchased her first means of protecting herself, her own knife.  She thought Joe could use a hearty lunch.  However, the dark circles under his eyes declared he needed sleep more.  He should have been sound asleep on his bunk by now instead of shopping with her.

"Thank you Joe."  And nodding toward the barracks "Now go get some much needed sleep.  You look bone tired.  Think you'll still be in town tomorrow night?"

"Should be.  Captain's givin' us a couple days to rest up before we head back out."

"How does an early supper sound at my place?"

"Sounds good."  He was almost asleep standing up.

####

The next day Chesa had Mrs. Tanner's preliminary will and trust documents completed so she headed out to the ranch to discuss them with her.  For the most part Mrs. Tanner approved of everything.  Chesa answered her questions and had some for her as well.  There was still some additional work needed to complete the documents but both Chesa and Mrs. Tanner felt satisfied with how Chesa had laid out her bequest.  Again Mrs. Tanner moved swiftly from business to business.

"You like blackberries?" She smiled enjoying taking Chesa by surprise.

"Sure do!"

"Let's go pick some for you to take home."  She headed to the house for a pail.  When she returned she also brought Spenser.  "And somethin' else for you to have with 'em."

A short while later having picked all the wild blackberries she felt she could use Chesa called it quits.  She watched Mrs. Tanner purposefully walk into a thicket about fifty yards away.  The rustling of startled birds taking flight was replaced with Spenser's shot.  Mrs. Tanner nodded in the direction of the felled bird. "There's your dinner.  Go pick it up."  A small pheasant.  Perfect!  She hadn't had pheasant since spring and she'd fix it just the way her mother did.

And before Chesa left Mrs. Tanner urged her to give her rifle another try.  Chesa still had bruises, though now fading, from the last go around with Spenser but that gleam in Mrs. Tanner's eyes challenged her to attempt it anyway.  Same shoulder, same kick, still surprised, same hip and sitting on the ground Chesa had to give Spenser another notch. The bullet still hit the tree and she could smile about that.

Waiting on her front porch when she returned from Mrs. Tanner's was a woman Chesa hadn't seen before.  She introduced herself as Nora Johnson.

"When I didn't find anyone at Mr. Deming's office I asked Captain Parmalee where you lived.  I hope you don't mind the intrusion."  Mrs. Johnson said softly barely looking at Chesa, focusing instead on the folded hands resting in her lap.

"Of course not" she assured the woman.  "How can I help you?"

Chesa patiently listened as Mrs. Johnson told her story.  She was timid at first then resolve gave her voice strength. The Johnsons had fallen on hard times in recent years.  Weather conditions had produced poor harvests and money was tight.  That wasn't the major concern for Mrs. Johnson though.  She had cared for her family in the past with very little means.  Her husband, once a gentle and loving man, had turned to drinking and the problem was growing.  Mrs. Johnson, a quietly self-sacrificing sort of woman up until now, had grown increasingly wary of her husband and wanted to leave him.  And wanted Chesa's help.  Before Chesa could ask how the woman hoped she could help, Mrs. Johnson stood to leave and said she had to get back before her husband missed her.  She would stop back again the next time she could get into town.  Chesa's heart ached for the woman.  A woman with a growing fear of the man she loved, or once loved.  She didn't see much in a legal manner she could do but she'd do something.  No woman should have to live with that kind of fear.  She'd think over some options while she plucked this pheasant.

After preparing the pheasant, Chesa set it to baking and then started the rest of the meal.  Just before Joe arrived, she changed into a new sky blue dress she'd had made just before leaving Virginia.  It was more befitting a lady than the trousers she’d worn out to the Tanner ranch.  She let her hair loose from the clip that held it out of her face during the day and brushed it into waves around her shoulders.

When Chesa answered the door at his knock, Joe looked at her then looked at himself.  Thinking her supper invitation was along the same lines as the first one, he'd just washed up, changed shirts, and headed over.  He'd slept most of the time since he saw her yesterday afternoon and thoughts of her and a good meal were now uppermost in his mind.  "Did I miss somethin' yesterday?  Cause I was dogged…"

She interrupted him.  "Didn't miss a thing.  Since I'm the one from Virginia, I thought I'd dress up like those other ladies from back east you confused me with" she teased.

His face relaxed into a smile.  She could put him at ease so quickly.  And it was so easy to focus his eyes on her.

Both agreed on the back porch as the location for supper.  "What smells so good?" Joe was getting mighty hungry.

"Pheasant and sage dressing is most likely what your nose is questioning."

"Where'd you get pheasant?"

"Mrs. Tanner.  She also suggested the wild blackberries in the cobbler."

"And a what about Spenser?  Wasn't that its name?  D'you tangle with it again too?" he teased, affectionately.

"Yes, with the same result."

"Odds are that shoulder hasn't healed from the first time.  Or, um, the other spot either."  He was enjoying teasing her.

"Odds are in your favor" she shot back throwing him a towel.  "So you can be helpful and lift that bird out of the oven if you want to eat."

Joe was glad to oblige.  Once again Chesa had fixed a mighty satisfying supper.  Pheasant, dressing, sweet potatoes and peas would be topped off with blackberry cobbler.  He could get used to this.  He ate until he thought he'd bust a gut then leaned back in his chair stretching his long legs in front of him giving his stomach room to work on that meal.  He thought it best he apologize for causing her concern yesterday when he insisted she have her knife.

"Ches, I'm sorry for hurryin' you along about that knife yesterday.  Coltrane's got me so riled up I let it get to me."

Chesa had a nagging question regarding Coltrane she had avoided until now. She decided to broach the subject.  "Joe, why does Coltrane make you so angry?  You and Reese roughed up him and one of his gang the day of the stage hold up.  I'm not saying Coltrane didn't deserve the treatment you gave him.  It just wasn't necessary.  So why?"

Joe bristled at the question.  He thought she'd forgotten about it.  Her look reminded him she hadn't.  And now he felt he’d disappointed her.  "D'you tell Parmalee?" He thought maybe he could work around the issue.

"No.  So why?"  She wasn't going to give him room to evade the question she now wanted an answer to.

"Ches, you haven't been out here long enough to see what some of these men do.  And these are bad ones.  We've locked 'em up a couple times.  They escape.  Shot up a couple Rangers pretty bad too.  Jus' sticks in your gut seeing good men git hurt.  So when I got ahold of him, I wanted him to feel some pain.  I know I shouldn't a done it though."

"You know a good defense attorney could have any information you got out of him thrown out as unreliable" Chesa reminded him softly.  She had a better understanding of what prompted his actions but was still unable to justify it in her mind.

"Yep.  There's other evidence to send Coltrane to prison though and he's the mean one."  Joe studied the toe of his boot a couple minutes before meeting her eyes.

"Thank you for answering me.  I won't say I can justify a lawman being unnecessarily rough.  However I don't particularly want to walk in your boots to find out."

Since she had done most of the talking at the last dinner, she wanted to be the one to ask questions and learn more about him this time.  Switching subjects she asked Joe how he learned to track.  She wanted to know if his Comanche brothers trained him or if tracking was something a person had a natural talent for.  If his Comanche upbringing had trained him how did they go about the training?

Joe was grateful she’d changed subjects and seeing as how she really wanted to know about a skill he was proud of, he jumped right into the explanation.  By the end of the evening he had her laughing over a story in which the Captain had to send him out to find Reese.  Reese, who’d proclaimed himself as good a tracker as Joe, had wound up on the opposite side of a ravine from where the outlaws horses' hoof prints led.  So Joe had to first track down Reese, then the outlaws.  And the Captain had given Reese a week's stable duty because Joe had to be pulled from another assignment to do Reese's job.

The Case goes to Judge Ballard …

Chesa didn't see Joe for the next couple days.  His buddies either.  The Captain confirmed they were on assignment and that afternoon they returned the Coltrane threesome to the Laredo jail.  This time a Ranger was on guard duty round the clock to prevent another escape.  Joe had briefly stopped by the office, informed her and Mr. Deming of the recapture, tipped his hat and left without further disruption.  Chesa knew the afternoon's work would extend into early evening.  Mr. Deming would want to have the case ready for Judge Ballard when he arrived in the next day or two.

He arrived the next day.  Judge Ballard was a man who didn't like to waste time and certainly didn't stand for anyone wasting his.  Chesa had met him in Virginia before he headed west.  Captain Parmalee, Reese, Joe and Chad were also present in the courtroom.  Coltrane and his men were wanted for additional crimes in addition to the stage holdup.  After hearing all the witnesses, it took the jury only fifteen minutes to come back with guilty verdicts, much to the Rangers' satisfaction.  Judge Ballard pronounced sentence and the Captain prepared to remove them from the courtroom and return them to their cells.

The Judge was ready to move onto the next case, Jason Creeley.  Creeley was a tall wiry man with slits for eyes and a perpetual smile on his face.   The smile was not the friendly variety but a menacing kind.  He had been linked as the moneyman behind a number of robberies and the Captain was anxious for his conviction.  Coltrane's confession implicating Creeley was the best evidence he'd gotten.  Creeley sat in the courtroom staring at the Captain, waiting his turn.  His lawyer approached Judge Ballard requesting Coltrane be retained in the courtroom.  To Captain Parmalee's surprise Creeley's lawyer requested his client be released on the basis that the only evidence of his involvement was a statement that was unreliable because it was coerced out of Coltrane through physical brutality.  Captain Parmalee wheeled around to Joe, Chad, and Reese expecting to see denial in their eyes.  Coltrane turned a derisive smile on Joe then looked at Chesa, a satanic smile spreading across his thin lips.   "Judge, I've never seen this man before."  He indicated Creeley.  "Heard his name mentioned in a poker game in Kansas City.  That Ranger was hurtin' me bad and demandin' a name, so I gave him Creeley's name."

Judge Ballard turned questioning eyes on the Captain.  "You arrested Mr. Creeley based upon what Captain Parmalee?"

The Captain looked at Joe then back to the Judge.  Before he could answer Coltrane got in another stab at Joe.  "Ask that big Ranger of yours how he got the name."  And he pointed an accusing finger at Joe.  "Or, better yet, ask the little lady sittin' here.  She saw the whole thing."  Coltrane sneered at Chesa, his lips twisting into a cynical smile.

Creeley's lawyer eagerly chimed in.  "Yes, Miss Sherwood, why don't you explain how the Ranger extracted Mr. Creeley's name from Mr. Coltrane, causing my client this unfortunate duress."  His cold, accusing eyes looked her up and down, while he let the weight of his words settle on the Judge.

Judge Ballard was outraged at the implication.  "Miss Sherwood, just what happened at that stage holdup?  I'm sure I don't have to swear you in because as an officer of the court you will most certainly tell the truth."

Chesa knew she would put Joe and Reese in a bad light with both the Judge and Captain, but she had to tell them what she saw.  She calmly stated the facts as she witnessed them, clarifying to the Judge that she did not overhear any conversations between Joe and Coltrane.  When she finished she looked at the Captain and Joe, eyes pleading for their understanding.

Judge Ballard eyed Creeley apologetically.  "Mr. Creeley, you're free to go."  Turning a disdainful look at Captain Parmalee he continued "I'll speak with you about this matter later.  Return Coltrane to jail."  And with a disgusted wave of his hand he dismissed all of them.

Chesa and Joe exchanged glances as they left the courtroom.  His eyes told her he understood.  Recalling their dinner conversation a few nights ago he knew there was a possibility Creeley could go free if he had a good lawyer.  At least they got Coltrane and his men convicted.  Now he would face the Captain's anger and most likely Ches would too.  Captain Parmalee didn't like surprises like this.

As Joe followed Chesa out onto the boardwalk in front of the courthouse he heard Chad, who followed them, say in disgust.  "Thought you worked for the prosecution."  As Chesa turned to Chad, Joe expected the same fiery verbal assault to his partner as she had displayed with him over his methods with Coltrane.   Looking in her eyes, he realized she wouldn't do anything to create a scene in public but the fire he saw there would've scorched Chad.  Well, he wasn't going to let Chad get away with it.  He stepped in front of Chad, blocking his progress.

Chad looked up at him in surprise.  "What's your problem?"

"You expected her to lie in court?"  As Chad backed up a step Joe pressed him further.  "Would you've lied to the Judge?  Same as you lie to the Captain when we break a few rules?"  Joe waited.

Chad was flustered and taken aback with Joe's defense of Chesa.   Realizing he'd taken his frustration out on her when she didn't deserve it, he sidestepped Joe to stand in front of Chesa.  "My sincere apologies Miss Sherwood.  That comment was out of line."

Joe watched Chesa graciously accept Chad's apology.  After he let Chad continue on his way, Joe looked back at Chesa.  He read her gratitude in the smile she flashed him.  Joe smiled back, thinking he'd be willing to deck Chad in exchange for that smile if need be.

Mr. Deming had met with Judge Ballard on other legal matters and returned with more work for Chesa by mid afternoon.  It was dusk when Mr. Deming called a halt to the days work.  The streets were quiet.  As she turned down the narrow street toward her house she heard them.  The footsteps behind her.  Where had they started?  Was it the same man? Sounded the same but it had been awhile.  Her house was closest but she would still have to unlock the door and get inside ahead of him.  Her breathing was growing more rapid as the fear crept up inside her.  No.  NO, it's not going to happen.  Her knife was in her shoe -- though not easily reachable under her skirt.  Forcing her breathing to slow she battled against her fear.  She had to do something.  The footsteps quickened and she knew he was close. I know what I'll do.  Just as she sensed the stalker's closeness she intentionally tripped, dropping to her left knee.  A hand clamped her mouth shut as the man bent over her.  Retrieving her knife from her right shoe she gripped the handle firmly.  She turned her head to get a look at the man.  Her travelling companion on the stage!

"You're the key to freeing Coltrane" he snarled in her ear.

As he started to put his other arm around her, Chesa plunged the knife deep into his forearm and held onto it.  As he stumbled over top of her she drove the knife deeper through his arm pinning it to the boardwalk.  When he gasped in agony she felt an anger, a rage, erupt inside her.  Still pinning the man's arm down with her weight her other hand clenched into a fist.  It slammed under his chin powered with all her strength.  His head snapped back into the building then slumped to his shoulder.  He didn't move.  As she stood up a familiar voice drifted around the corner from the main street.  That distinctive gravelly voice belonging to Reese.

"REESE!"  She screamed.  "Reese!"

He appeared immediately with Cotton.  "Chessie?  Chessie girl, you're hurt.  What happened?"  He took in the scene.  Her bloody hand.  The unconscious man with a knife protruding from his arm.

She didn't answer just looked at what she'd done.

Taking her arm, Reese spoke in a comforting voice.  "Chessie, now let me git ya to the doc.  Ya done good Chessie girl.  Reeaallll good."  He steered her toward the main street.  She stopped him.

"Reese, my knife."

"YOUR knife?"  Reese knew only Joe could have something to do with Chessie owning a knife.  "Git Riley" he yelled at Cotton.

Cotton didn't have too far to go once he turned the corner.  He spotted Joe just down the street.  "Joe.  Hurry!"  Then he headed back around the corner to Reese.

Joe rounded the corner on a run.  "Reese.  Ches.  Wha…" his voice trailed off as he caught sight of Chesa's bloody right hand.  "You're hurt Ches.  Reese, git the doc." Turning quickly he then saw the man, the knife, her knife, the one he'd helped her buy.

She knew they needed answers.  Stammering, she managed to get out enough that they understood.  "I'm not hurt.  The man from the stage… The one I came in on…  Me to free Coltrane."  She paused before continuing.  "I stabbed him.  And… knocked him out."

Joe stepped in.  "Lets git you home, away from this."  Her took her left hand avoiding the bloody one.

"Ow!" Chesa drew back.  Her knuckles throbbed.  "My fist.  His jaw."

Okay, Joe was piecing together some of what took place.  Gently taking her forearm Joe walked her the short distance to her house.  Having seated her at the table he grabbed a basin of water, soft cloth and towel and sat down next to her.  "Ches, now tell me what happened.  From the beginning."  He tenderly took her bloody hand in his, bathing it in the water until no trace of blood remained.  He listened as she slowly related the short sequence of events.  When she finished he enveloped her hand in his larger one and smiled.  "I'm real proud of you.  Now that took guts."  He paused before continuing.  "Let's see to that other hand."  He returned from the backdoor with a bucket of well water.  "Cool water should ease the pain a mite."  Then he gingerly wrapped a cool wet cloth around her hand.

"Joe" she started then stopped.

"Hmm."

"Joe, it felt good when I figured out something to do.  And it felt really good hitting him."  She gave him a wry smile but it quickly changed as her thoughts returned to the stalker.  "But Joe, it didn't feel too good when I plunged that knife into him."

Joe scooted his chair closer, put his arm around her shoulders, and pulled her close.  He knew it would take a little time for her to put this behind her.

She turned to him laying her head on his shoulder.  She wanted to wake up from a terrible nightmare but knew that wasn't to be.  The man had intended to kidnap her to trade for Coltrane's freedom.  From what she knew of Coltrane, she doubted her life would have been spared.

Dusk descended into darkness.  Joe brushed her long brown hair behind her shoulder. So soft, like her hands. He slowly ran his fingers through the dark brown waves again.  It seemed to relax her so he continued.  He could feel her chest rise and fall against his side, her breathing becoming slow and even.  She's gonna be okay.

Chesa knew some time had passed.  Had she even dozed off?  Something in his manner had soothed her and she smiled at him.  "Thank you Joe.  And thank you for suggesting the knife."  She stood up, fighting her overwhelming need to be close to him.

"Now I think you best try to get some rest if you can."  He came close to kissing her.  He wanted to, to reassure her she would be okay.  At the moment though she was dealing with enough.

Chesa nearly squirmed with excitement waiting for the stage to arrive carrying Whitley King.  Although they had corresponded, they hadn't seen each other in four years.  Whitley had returned east to attend the same university as Chesa.  When she graduated her father, Captain Richard King, had returned her to their Texas ranch.  Whitley's younger brother would be traveling with her at their father's insistence for Whitley's safety.  Evan was three years younger than Whitley and Chesa and the last time Chesa had seen him he was still a youth and full of more mischief than any other boy in town.   He wasn't a mean boy, just a prankster.

When the stage finally arrived she ran to meet it.  Whitley barely stepped down from the stage before Chesa hugged her and they began twirling around in the street, both talking excitedly at the same time.  Then Whitley had to introduce Evan as she didn't even recognize him.  Where Whitley had inherited her deceased mother's petite frame and fairness of skin Evan had become a copy of his father as Chesa last remembered him.  Tall, broad shouldered, wavy black hair, deep brown eyes, and a strong jawline set off by a striking goatee.  He greeted Chesa politely then attended to the luggage.

She didn't see much of anyone while she entertained Whitley.  Evan typically slept in and disappeared by noon not to be seen until the next day.  According to Whitley he would be at the saloon, playing poker, or with a woman.  No matter.  It gave her and Whitley the uninterrupted time to catch up.  Until one day Evan's playing went too far.

While Whitley dressed upstairs, Chesa prepared lunch.  Whitley also slept in, rarely stirring until almost noon.  Evan had been staying in her first floor guest room.  A barely-still-morning Evan stumbled out muttering a low "morning".  What she saw beyond him just getting out of bed and dressing was a dancehall gal judging by the clothing.  "Evan, how could you?"  Leaning against the doorframe clad only in jeans, a shirt casually thrown around his shoulders, he yawned and shrugged his shoulders.  And that casualness infuriated her.  "Get her out of here.  NOW."

Evan knew as soon as he looked in her eyes he had crossed the line with this lady.  They pierced him like daggers pinning him to the framework he slouched against.  He hurried the girl along.

The girl wouldn't look up to meet Chesa's eyes but hurriedly moved around Evan towards the front door.

"Evan."  Chesa commanded and nodded her head to the back door.

Evan took the girl's arm and led her out the back door.  Trying to break the silence and calm the glaring eyes that followed him, he asked innocently, "Coffee warm?"

"Yes, but not for you," came the cold response.  "Still a little boy aren't you?  Doing what pleases you without regard for your sister or me.  Now finish getting dressed and get out of here.  I don't care to see your face at the moment."  He dressed quickly and with what he hoped was a defiant look escaped out the front door.  Chesa was thankful when she didn't see him the remainder of the day or evening.

Evan headed for the saloon for a strong cup of coffee.  He needed one to shake the scornful look and verbal sting of Chesa Sherwood.  Last thing a formidable woman like that had needed was training in the law.

Entering the saloon he was greeted by some outraged fellow badgering him about some woman.  He had no idea what had ruffled this guy’s feathers and his head was pounding too much to care.

This Chad Cooper person wanted Evan King to know in no uncertain terms he was not going to tolerate him keeping time with any woman friend of his.  Evan waved him away. He couldn't be bothered with anyone who was going to get between him and that reviving cup of coffee.

"Mister you best be a leavin' Chad's women alone.  He kin git mighty riled up.  I a don't want you a gittin' hurt or nuthin'. "  A cautionary Reese hovered near Evan's chair.

"Mister, your friend ain't near being riled. Now I just left riled." And he shuddered as Chesa's icy stare and derisive little boy comment returned to mind.

"Huh?  Who?"  Chad butted in, his need for a confrontation apparently sidetracked with curiosity over who this oversized playboy feared more than a riled up Texas Ranger.

"Ches, that's who."  Evan fearlessly stood up next to Chad, his height besting Chad by a couple inches and his shoulders squared for whatever might come.  "Now that lady is one female you don't want to cross."

Joe watched with amusement as Evan downed a full cup of strong coffee and sauntered out the door.  "Hear tell he's a high spirited sorta fella.  Younger'n you too Chad.  With money."  He knew his remarks would further aggravate his partner and relished Chad getting a little comeuppance now and then.  “Why, maybe you should even thank him for taking Cindy Lou off your hands.”

“Thank him?  Thank him for what?”  Chad sounded more outraged at Joe than he had at Evan.

“Chad boy, you got a gal in most every saloon between Zapata and El Paso.  You juggle 'em like some kinda sideshow performer.”

Reese enjoyed Chad’s discomfort too.  "Yeah.  Anyhoo, he ain't afeared a you that's fer sure.  His uppity spirit stuff done rammed inta a stone wall name a Chessie.  Hah!  Got some vinegar kicked outta 'im, too."  He could just picture Chessie with her arms planted on her waist givin' him what fer.

 The following day Evan was at it again.  All her life Chesa had been an early riser.  This morning she opted to do a little work at the office since Whitley slept so late.  Along about mid morning Captain Parmalee entered the office, a coiled whip in his hand.  Chesa raised an eyebrow in question.

"Evan.  He's in jail and asking for you.  Seems he tried to force one of our young ladies into something she didn't want to do.  The father is pressing charges."  He hated spoiling Chesa's until now pleasant visit with Whitley.  She had needed some joy after her first couple of months adjusting to Laredo.

Chesa sighed and shook her head.  What was he doing up and into trouble already?  She couldn't believe it, yet she could.  Based upon some of the stories Whitley had shared about the now grown Evan, he still possessed the mischief of his youth.  Seems everything Evan did surprised her yet nothing he did surprised her.  But she didn't see him as a man who would deliberately force himself on a woman.  His family was wealthy, a wealth he stood to inherit.  He had looks and from the rumors around town there were women waiting in line for his attentions.  "Captain, I'll talk to him.  What's that?"

"Evan's bullwhip.  He allegedly wrapped it around her to prevent her from struggling.  Chesa, if you don't want to see him, I'll take care of it."

Chesa knew it was the Captain's way of sparing her some possibly ugly conversations.  "No, I'll take care of it."  She still didn't believe it though.  A whip?

Joe, Chad, and Reese had witnessed Evan's arrival at the jail.  Chad especially was delighted to see his nemesis getting what he considered his due.  Further, when the Captain appeared with Chesa and headed towards the jail, he was ready to watch the fireworks.  Rubbing his hands together vigorously he looked at his partners.  "We can't miss this.  There's that window out back of the jail that's open.  Ooooh, she's gonna give him a lashin' for sure."  And they all headed for a prime listening post out of sight.

The Captain accompanied her to the jail.  She asked him for the bullwhip before waving him off.  She slid the coiled leather whip onto her shoulder, took a deep breath and opened the door.  Entering the jail, she had to stifle a laugh.  Evan King behind bars, eyes downcast, a pout on his face, looked like a forlorn lost puppy dog.  Without a word she stood there waiting for him to begin.

Finally his eyes met hers then turned away for a moment before he summoned the courage to face her again.  "Ches, I'm sorry 'bout this.  Really I am.  I didn't do anything.  We were playing around and it's not what you think.  I'm innocent."

The laughter she had struggled to keep inside burst out.  She shook she laughed so hard for a minute or so.  Finally she regained her composure under the scrutiny of his gaze.  "Evan, you know, the funny thing is I do believe you.  Ok, so you tell me what happened."

 According to Evan, he’d been showing a young girl named Melissa some tricks with his bullwhip in her father's barn.  One of those tricks being to wrap the whip around her body, pinning her arms to her sides.  She lost her balance, falling into the hay, and Evan pounced on top.  The father entered the barn about that time.  The girl screamed, giving the impression she was being held against her will.  Of course the father took the girl's word and that's how Evan ended up looking out through bars.  Chesa said she would talk to the girl and family and try to clear it up.

Evan hadn't paid much attention to Chesa’s appearance when she entered.  He’d dreaded the wrath of her anger but needed her help.  It hadn't been as bad as he expected, except the laughter.  Now he noticed.  She’d dressed like his sister on the few occasions he’d bothered to observe her since arriving in Laredo.  Pretty feminine blouses, slim fitting skirts, hair pulled back from her face.  She must have planned to go riding today though as she looked very different.  As she opened the door to leave, the sun silhouetted her in the doorway.  "Oh yeah" escaped his lips before he could stop it but she hadn't heard.  The sun brought out the red cast of her dark brown hair now loose and flowing around her face and shoulders.  His eyes trailed the curves created by her flowing hair, her breasts and finally over her slender hips now outlined by the trousers she wore.

Chesa returned a short while later.  As she suspected, Melissa an inexperienced girl of about 20, feared her father and was afraid to admit the truth.  Chesa had talked first with the mother encouraging her to help get the truth from the girl.  Melissa finally blurted it out after Chesa had pressed upon her that she would be brought into court and questioned.

Calming Whitley proved to be more of an effort than freeing Evan.  She was humiliated, embarrassed, and on the verge of hysteria.  Finally Chesa told her to rest.  Evan would keep them company for the next two days, the remainder of their visit.  Her look told him in no uncertain terms not to protest.  He didn't.

With Whitley somewhat calmed and resting, Chesa suggested that Evan take a ride with her.  She wanted to do some target practicing and he might as well be useful by riding along.  She had never yet ventured too far outside Laredo alone.

Arriving at the stream Joe had brought her to for her first lesson with a knife, the memory of that afternoon made her smile.  Evan perked right up when he saw the stream and the little boy she remembered in Williamsburg came tumbling out.  He shed boots and shirt and ran headlong into the water.  There wouldn't be any fish around there for awhile Chesa mused remembering the way Joe gracefully eased into the water without so much as a ripple to catch their supper.  You could barely see Evan for all the splashing he was doing.  Chesa pulled out her knife and got to practicing.

"What's this?"  Evan had noticed what she was doing and stopped swimming to satisfy his curiosity.

Chesa explained the knife, her reason for having one, and even shared the experience of when she’d been forced to use it.  His eyes, usually twinkling except for the few times she turned her anger towards him, grew soft and the smile faded.  "No woman should have to experience something like that."  He walked to his horse for his bullwhip.  "Have you ever considered one of these?  A knife is appropriate for some situations.  A whip could give you another option, possibly a better option.  Try it."

 Chesa fingered the leather and flicked it around the ground at her feet.   She figured why not?  "Okay.  Show me what I'm supposed to do with this."

Evan got serious and after a demonstration of his prowess and precision with the whip he was more than happy to share his expertise.  Within a couple hours he had Chesa wrapping and cracking that whip with enough force and confidence he thought it was time for a break.  She had stirred him up.  Now he needed cooling off.  He figured she might as well join him.  Taking her by surprise he lifted her in powerful arms and ran to the stream plunging in with her.  She was still struggling to free herself as the water enveloped them.

Chesa came up sputtering.  "Evan, you were being so nice.  Why did you have to go and do that?"

"Oh, Ches, come on.  Play a little.  The water feels GREAT!"

She paused and had to agree.  It did feel cool and refreshing.   So she gave into the pure enjoyment of swimming as she had as a child.  However when the sun began it's afternoon descent, she motioned to Evan they should get moving.  She climbed out of the stream first and looked for her boots that Evan had thrown somewhere up on shore.  Locating them she sat to put them on but stopped, watching Evan.

He was close to Joe's height, same broad shoulders, arms and chest as heavily muscled as Joe's.  Both were powerful men.  She had unsuccessfully struggled against those rippling muscles when he carried her into the stream.  While Joe's chest was bare and smooth Evan's was peppered with fine black hairs now plastered to his chest.  Though similar physically, the two men were vastly different in temperament.  Joe was quiet, observant and thoughtful.  Evan was bold and arrogant, jumping into everything with little consideration for anyone but himself.

He interrupted her thoughts.  "I'm ready to go.  Awful hungry too.  And the afternoon with you wasn't so bad after all.  I'll take you and Whitley to dinner."

They were headed towards the horses when Evan stopped, indicating for her to as well.  His whip uncoiled slowly from his hand as he moved quietly into the thicket.  Chesa couldn't stand the suspense.  She followed, careful not to disturb him in whatever he was doing.  Since she wasn't as tall as he was she couldn't see what caught his eye behind a boulder he now paused against.  The crack of his whip caused her to jump.  He looked around at her and winked.  She followed him around the boulder as he picked up the now lifeless pheasant whose neck had been snapped by the whip's deadly force.

"How about this for dinner tomorrow?" he smiled, obviously pleased with himself.

"Perfect.  It will make a grand going away feast for you and Whitley."

Evan made good on his word and took the two ladies to dinner that evening at the hotel dining room, Whitley's choice.

 The next day Chesa didn't see much of him.  He’d gone out early promising Chesa he wouldn’t be seeing any women.  Chesa spent the day with Whitley, the last one before her friend would return to the King family ranch.  Later that evening they enjoyed the delicious pheasant Evan had provided along with fresh vegetables from Mrs. Morton's garden.  After Whitley retired to bed Chesa learned what had occupied Evan's time all day.  He took one of her hands in his and placed the coil of smooth leather in her other one.  Her own bullwhip.  One similar to his only with a smaller handle.  With a sincerity she had heretofore not heard from him he softly said, "I pray you never have to use it like you had to use that knife."

Whitley and Evan's travelling day dawned bright and beautiful with a slight breeze that would make the journey more comfortable for them.  Chesa noticed a small group of women, mostly giggling girls, had gathered to see Evan off.  She hugged Whitley goodbye, kissed her on the cheek and helped her into the stage.

Evan's behavior over the past couple of days had softened Chesa's heart towards him.  He loved challenge and having fun period.  She couldn't fault him for that.  And he had even coaxed some childlike fun out of her, something she hadn't experienced since leaving Virginia.  She was grateful for that.  When he turned to say goodbye she placed her hand on his upper arm, raising up on tiptoe to kiss him on his cheek.  Evan had other ideas and quickly turned his head so that her kiss ended up on his lips.  She pulled back.  "Now what did you do that for?" she protested loudly and heard girlish twittering behind her.

He shrugged, a smile playing on his mouth, finding her displeasure amusing.  "Cuz I've never kissed one of my sister's friends."

He could be sweet one minute and back to exasperating the next.  "Well, how was it then?" she challenged.

"Need another taste."  He responded in his casual, jesting way.  Crushing her against his chest his mouth reclaimed hers, fully tasting her lips this time.  Pushing against his powerful upper arm didn't deter him.  When she stopped struggling, he released her lips, and her.  Sucking in his lower lip, and with a satisfied smirk on his face, he whispered in her ear. "I'll be back for more."

Chesa stumbled backward when he let go of the hold on her.  She licked her own lips tasting his kiss.  "Um."  Something stirred in her.  Something someone else had awakened.

She turned to see Chad leaning casually against a post.  "JUST a family friend?" he drawled.

"You're not the only one who likes to play games Mr. Cooper.  Had to keep him away from other men's women and out of jail."  With a wink at Chad, she headed across the street to her office as the dust swirled in the wake of the departing stage.

 Joe witnessed Evan's obvious enjoyment of his kiss with Chesa with mixed emotions.  Initially stunned at her response, he realized it had stirred him too.  She had insinuated the kiss was a game and that was a side of her he hadn't experienced yet, the playful side.  The past few months had seen some tough adjustments for her, shaking that confidence he’d glimpsed the day he met her. He smiled to himself remembering how she rebuffed Chad right off.  She kept on in her own way at her own pace.  The stalking incident would have sent most city women running home.  He’d sensed there was more to this lady lurking beneath the usually poised exterior and had even started to kiss her on a couple of occasions but somehow the time hadn't been right.  At least he hadn’t thought so.  But Evan’s kiss seemed to have brought her spirit back.  Maybe he should’ve been bolder himself.  He wanted to get to know Ches better and he'd put it off long enough.

Entering her office he made his request brief.  "Want to head out to the stream this afternoon?"

Her eager smile answered before she did "I'd like that."

Captain Parmalee, however, had other plans for his afternoon.  Border patrol.

Nora Johnson's home . . .

Chesa rode out to the Johnson ranch to pick up and pay for a skirt Nora had just finished. Since Nora intended to leave her husband, she needed money to make a life elsewhere.  While Chesa could offer no legal way for Nora to get any possessions from her husband, she had learned she was a fine dressmaker, a service Chesa needed.  Since moving west she had not added any new outfits to her wardrobe thinking she would have to do that when she went home for a visit.  Now she didn't have to.  She found the tailoring to be exquisite on the dress and skirt she had already purchased.  Chesa paid Nora for her work and Nora was saving all the money she could for the eventual move.  Chesa was working on adding clients for Nora's services so she could build the savings faster.

As soon as Chesa arrived at the Johnson place she sensed things weren't right.  Mr. Johnson's voice boomed from the barn located off to the side of the house.  By the sound of it something had angered him.  Chesa dismounted and started toward it when she heard Nora's voice pleading with him to stop.  Midway she stopped and headed back to retrieve her bullwhip from the saddlebag.  Approaching the barn she hooked the coiled whip over the door handle for easy access should she need it.  She opened the door cautiously and peered inside.  Mr. Johnson, holding his wife's upper arms so tight her shoulders were bunched up, shook her repeatedly and shoved her against a barn post.  He was staggering, using her for support, and demanding money.  Chesa figured the money he was looking to get out of his wife was the money she was there to give her.  And he's not about to get it from that poor woman if I can help it.

Captain Parmalee had asked Chesa to inform him whenever she went out of town, mostly so that he could ride with her if he felt it might not be safe.  Today was no exception.  She had popped her head in the door and told him where she was going.  She had been out the short road several times and had encountered no problems.  He didn't anticipate any today either.  However another thought was nagging him.  Mr. Johnson had been in town late last night.  He had even gotten into some kind of light brawl at the Cactus Saloon.  No one was hurt and Mr. Johnson had somehow managed to climb onto his horse and head home just after that.  Captain Parmalee had noticed the man was becoming more aggressive lately, after spending more and more time in saloons over the past six months.  Then he remembered Mrs. Johnson asking for guidance to Chesa's house.  Opening the office door he spied Chad heading into the barracks.

"Cooper!"

Chad headed to the office. "Yes sir."

"Ride out to the Johnson place.  Chesa headed out there just awhile ago.  Johnson left town drunk late last night after a brawl.  I'd feel better with a man watching over her visit."

Chad didn't figure Johnson to be the kind of man to worry over.  Yeah, he got into a fight now and then but he'd never seen the man mean to his wife or any woman.  But if the Captain wanted him to ride out he'd do it, maybe work this to his advantage.  A ride back into town with Chesa would give him a little extra time with her.  Give her an opportunity to get to know him a little better.

Chesa slipped through the barn door and called for Mr. Johnson to stop.  He stopped hollering and shaking Nora to focus on Chesa.  "Get OUT!  It's none of your business woman."  Turning his eyes back to the whimpering woman still in his grasp he was about to resume the abuse when Chesa stepped forward once again pleading with him to stop. This time he threw a screaming Nora to the ground and headed for Chesa.

Chesa quickly backed up and reached for the whip on the door handle remembering Evan's comment that a whip could be a better option than a knife in some situations.  This was one of them.  She could see the man wasn't going to settle with talking.  His eyes were sunken and bloodshot from too much booze and too little sleep.  He staggered towards her but stopped short when he saw the bullwhip slowly uncoiling from her hand.

"What's that?  Think you're gonna stop me with that thing?" he growled.  "You owe us money for them dresses the missus made ya.  Now give it ta me.  NOW."

"The money is for Nora, NOT you Mr. Johnson.  Now back up, away from me and Nora."  Chesa got a good grip on the handle and prepared to send the whip airborne if needed.

Johnson resumed his slow stagger towards her.  Evan had taught her several ways to use a whip.  She wanted to stop the man without harming him too badly.  She lifted her arm out to the side and unleashed the whip.  It found the mark she intended, slashing into his upper arm.   Blood rose immediately along a thin line under the torn shirt.  That stopped him.  They stood watching each other warily.  She waited for his next move.  Hopefully he would back away.  He was still under the influence of too much alcohol to be reasonable though.  Now instead of advancing on her, he headed toward Nora standing as if frozen off to the side.  Before he could get to her, Chesa was going to stop him.  At this point she was beyond intimidation.  Fortunately Evan had taught her how to do a body wrap with a whip.  He'd wanted to prove to her that he had not hurt that young girl.  She hadn't been able to gently wrap it around Evan, however, always stinging him.  Right now she didn't care if Johnson felt some pain as long as he was stopped.  He yelped when the leather coiled around his legs.  Just as she figured he felt the sting too.  Too bad.  She pulled hard and he fell face first into the dirt.  Nora, crying, escaped out the door.

"And here you have the Captain thinking you need lookin' after."  Chad had been watching from a side window out of sight of either Chesa or Johnson.  Now he made his presence known.  He holstered his gun as he walked toward Chesa. This lady lawyer was a tad more formidable than he’d figured on.

"Chad Cooper.  How long have you been here without bothering to help?" she yelled at him.  With a Ranger on the scene, she unrolled Johnson from her whip to let Chad take over, already feeling the relief of his presence.

Chad sidled up to Chesa and leaned his shoulder against hers as she slowly coiled her whip.  "Bullwhip counselor? This one of the little games you alluded to playing with Evan King?  Hmmm?" he drawled.  He could just imagine some of the sorry excuses for games that playboy would come up with but he was enjoying the picture he had of this one.  That whip she was slowly coiling in her hands intrigued him too, as well as the way she caressed the leather as she coiled it.  He’d had a father or two come after him with one and it had never occurred to him it could be so sensuous.

"Worked didn't it?  It's a graceful weapon Chad.  Its soft leather can delicately wrap around a body or its sheer velocity can turn it wicked.  I wouldn't use it on just anyone though.  I'm still pretty rough with it."  She turned away from him and smiled.  He'd get the message.  She headed out the door looking for Nora, leaving Chad to deal with Johnson.

Chad watched Chesa until she disappeared.  Whew, did he have a story to tell when he got back to the barracks.  Chesa Sherwood, counselor at law, brandishing a bullwhip.

Chad Cooper relished telling the tale of Chesa, Johnson, and the bullwhip to the boys in the barracks.  Joe was at the door heading out when Chad had burst in and after listening to Chad, he slipped out the door without comment.   He headed for Chesa's with a lot of questions piling up in his mind that he wanted answers to.  King had to be behind the bullwhip.  Johnson was a goodsized man, about Reese's size.  What was she thinking confronting a drunk man who would beat on a woman he supposedly loved?  There was no answer to the knock at her door but he heard her voice somewhere.  He was headed to Mrs. Morton's next door when she rounded the corner of the house and stepped off Mrs. Morton's porch.   "Ches, I want to talk to you.  Now."  Joe addressed her with a firmness he hadn't used before.

"Well, okay, but can you talk at my place so your voice doesn't upset Nora?  I have to change clothes before going back to the office and I'm already later than I told Mr. Deming I'd be."  She walked undaunted into her house and Joe followed.  "I won't be long Joe" she called over her shoulder as she ran up the stairs.

Joe stood looking after her.  He started to say what was on his mind then stopped.  It would wait until she returned downstairs.  He didn't want her to be helpless but he didn't want her to be so bold either. Confronting Johnson hadn't been as disconcerting to her as he'd anticipated.   He looked up when he heard her footsteps on the stairs.  She had changed into a dark blue skirt with a soft yellow blouse and brushed the sides of her hair up into a comb leaving the remainder of her hair free and flowing.  She hardly looked like a woman that would handle that whip lying on her table.

Chesa stopped at the bottom of the stairs.  "You wanted to talk to me Joe?" she gently reminded him.

He had so many questions he wasn't sure where to begin.  "Ches, what did you think takin' on a drunk that would hurt his own wife?  I mean, what are you doin' carryin' a whip?"  He knew the questions weren't quite related but they were the first ones that popped out.  He ran a hand over his chin and up his jaw in exasperation as he waited for some answer from her.

Chesa took a deep breath before answering.  She didn't know which bothered him more, her boldness in confronting an abusive man or the thought of a woman using a whip.  "Joe, Evan watched me practice with my knife one day.  After I told him the why of it all, including the evening I was stalked and had to use it, he suggested a bullwhip as another option.  He said a knife would be good in some situations.  A whip would be a better option in others.  So I practiced with his and found I was pretty accurate with it."  She paused and gave Joe a slight smile.  "Before Evan left he gave me this one" and she indicated the one on the table.  "Today that whip let me use nonlethal force from a relatively safe distance.  Although my knife was in my boot just as it always is in case I needed it."  She didn't want Joe thinking she had forgotten about that.  "And it still is."  She lifted her skirt just enough so he could see the knife handle at the top of her boot.

"What about the next time?  You took Coltrane's man by surprise and Johnson was drunk."  She was more self-confident than he wanted her to be right now.

"I'm not going to take chances.  I'm aware of my abilities or lack thereof.  I'm not that good with a knife, a whip, or Spenser yet.  However I'm not going to stand idly by and watch a man beat up on a woman without trying to stop him if I have some means of doing so."

"Let lawmen do their job and you do yours."  He knew he was half demanding, half pleading with her.

"Let's go.  We can talk while we walk."  Chesa headed out the door waiting for Joe to follow so she could lock the door.  As they slowly walked toward the law office she continued.  "Joe, the legislative process is often a lengthy one.  Women will eventually have their due rights under the law.  I know it but it's going to be one of the lengthy battles.  I support all the legislative efforts currently underway and keep abreast of the progress through letters with my Washington contacts."  She paused looking at him.  "Until that time comes when a woman can divorce an abusive husband and be lawfully entitled to a portion of their possessions her friends need to step in and help however they can.  No woman should ever have to tolerate that kind of behavior.  I wouldn't.  And I intend to do what I can to help women like Nora until legislation catches up."

His eyes had softened and he was smiling at her.  He couldn't fault her for her conviction or her determination.  And he was proud of her.  But he couldn't stand the thought of her getting hurt attempting something she shouldn't. They had now crossed the street and Joe stopped when Chesa stopped to lift her skirt to take the few steps up to the boardwalk.  Although he knew she didn't need the assistance, he placed his hand under her forearm as they climbed the steps.  Her smile confirmed she noticed the gesture.  Once again slowing his natural stride to her slower pace in that skirt she was wearing, he casually slid his hand over hers, holding it gently in his for the duration of the walk to her office.  "You ain't alone in feelin' that way.  We're here too.  And I'll feel a whole lot better once you get better with that knife."  He paused.  "And whip." Giving her a sideways glance and shaking his head, he couldn't keep from chuckling at the image Chad painted of Ches cracking the whip across Johnson's arm.  Now at her office doorway he released her hand.

"Thank you for listening AND understanding that I need to do what I can."

Both Joe and the Captain felt Nora was still in danger.  Chesa took their concerns, as well as Nora's safety, to heart.  She spent the afternoon talking with some shopkeepers then headed out of town to seek Mrs. Tanner's counsel.  By evening she had a workable plan.  Now she'd discuss it with Nora who was spending the night at Mrs. Morton's.

Chesa, Mrs. Morton and Nora talked over dinner at Mrs. Morton's.  Nora would continue to secretly make clothing for Chesa and any other ladies who desired her services, but instead of paying Nora they would pay Chesa.  Chesa would maintain a ledger detailing the money she received.  When Nora, and only Nora, needed anything she would put it on Chesa's account at the shops wherein Chesa had negotiated an arrangement with the shopkeeper.  Chesa would pay for Nora's purchases and deduct the amount from her account balance.  On those occasions Nora felt her husband might turn violent or if she was fearful after one of his late nights in the saloon, she had either Chesa's or Mrs. Tanner's house to escape to.  Chesa was reluctant to bring Mrs. Tanner into it but the woman had been adamant.  She'd said Johnson wouldn't be foolish enough to tangle with Spenser and Chesa had to agree.

Joe knocked at Chesa's door early the next morning.  He knew she was awake, he could smell the coffee.

"Good morning."  Chesa said in her usual manner as she opened the door.  "Come in.  Coffee's ready."  She poured a cup of coffee for Joe then sat down at the table.  "I've considered the concerns you and the Captain raised regarding Nora's safety."  She proceeded to share her new solution for Nora's situation with him.

Joe mulled it over while drinking his coffee.  "Johnson's gonna know his wife ain't makin' dresses for nothin' Ches.  He'll demand ta know how she's bein' paid.  'Ventually she might have ta tell him.  Supposin' he comes direct to you for the money?"

"I don't intend to stand idly by" she repeated.  "I'm going to do all I can to help Nora.  My safety is my responsibility.  You've taught me some things to protect myself so don't worry."

Her resolve was admirable but Joe still didn't want her taking chances.  She proved she could handle herself when she stabbed one of Coltrane's men as he tried to kidnap her.  Was she too confident now?  The element of surprise was her advantage before.  Assignments took him out of Laredo too frequently for him to promise to look out for her safety.  "Have you discussed this with the Capt'n?"

"No.  Not yet."  She went to the stove to refill her coffee.

Joe followed.  "You need to tell Parmalee so's he can keep an eye out too.  And don't take chances with this guy.  Bein' prepared is one thing.  Angerin' him's another."

"Ok, I won't take unnecessary chances and I'll tell the Captain when I see him."

"Promise."  Joe stepped closer to her concerned she wasn't taking him seriously.

"Joe if it keeps you from worrying, I promise."  She felt as though he had no confidence in her.

Joe sensed her resignation at the promise he extracted and wanted her to know why he forced her promise.  Unable to bring himself to kiss her mouth, he brushed her cheek lightly with his lips.  "You're special to me Ches" he whispered.  When he looked into her eyes they had softened.  Her slight smile was the encouragement he needed.  He pulled her close and her lips met his.

Chesa had never been kissed as tenderly as Joe kissed her.  Tenderness she hadn't expected from a man of his strength.

That afternoon Joe and Chesa returned to the same spot near the stream he had first brought her.  The air had cooled as expected for early November.  Her target was still in place.  She eagerly rolled up her sleeves, took the knife from her boot and sent it straight to its mark with the flick of her wrist.  Joe stood back a short distance and nodded his approval.  "I see you got some practicin' in."  Chesa retrieved the knife and zeroed in her target again.  "Back up."  Joe called.

"Why?"

"Get used to throwin' from varying distances."

 That was logical.  She took a few steps back keeping herself in line with her target.  "Here?"

"Little bit more" Joe called again.  As Chesa stepped backwards another couple steps Joe quietly eased up behind her.  Colliding with him, he put his arms around her waist squeezing her affectionately.  "That'll do just fine" he whispered in her ear.  Before she could respond he let her go and stepped aside.  "Try it from there."  Chesa's blade came up a few inches lower than her mark but it still impressed Joe.  Her skills had improved and she threw more forcefully now.  A little more practice and Joe felt it was time for something different. "Ches, hold up.  Did ya bring that bullwhip?"

"Why yes, I always carry it.  Same as my knife."

"How's about showin' off with that a spell."

Pleased that he wanted to see some of Evan's instruction she retrieved it from her saddlebag.  Her marksmanship with the whip was consistently more precise than with her knife.  Having enough of practice Chesa looped her whip around her neck and sauntered up to Joe with an air of satisfaction.  "What do you think?"

"Gettin' there."  Joe slipped his knife from its sheath, switched it to his right hand.  "Step back."  He pulled his arm back, then down.  The knife landed dead center in the target from at least three times the distance Chesa had last thrown.  "I expect you to do the same thing eventually."  It was his turn to look smug.

Joe shed boots, socks, gunbelt and shirt to catch fish for their supper.  As Joe slowly waded into the stream Chesa shed boots and socks and waded in just as quietly and slowly after him.  The water was chilly but still refreshing.  She eased up on him.  He was partially turned around watching the water and didn't see her.  With the shifting and unstable silt underfoot Joe was knocked off balance when Chesa threw her weight against his shoulder.  Both tumbled under the water and came up gasping.

"What are you doin' out here?"  Joe asked in mock anger.

"Seeing what's on the menu" she grinned mischievously.

Joe splashed her for spite.  Chesa splashed back.  "Stand still.  I won't be needin' this."  He threw his knife onto the bank.  They swam and splashed until the water was brown from the stirred up silt and mud.  "Now what do you think your chances are of havin' fish for supper?"  Joe asked looking at the dirty water.

"Reckon we'll have to settle for something else."  She swam out into the deeper water.  Joe dove underwater barely leaving a ripple in his wake.  Chesa watched for him.  He didn't surface.  No air bubbles or movement in the water.  "Joe!"  Nothing.  The stream didn't give her a clue.  "Joe!"  she called again.  Several minutes passed.  He had been underwater too long for Chesa's comfort.  She looked for any sign of him.  Again she called with only silence answering her.  A shiver ran through her.  She turned to the deeper water just as Joe surfaced.  He took a couple quick, deep breaths.  Chesa couldn't speak she was so overcome with relief and swam out to him.

"Are you alright?"  she demanded.  She found he was in water too deep for her to touch bottom.

"Why of course."  He could stand on the streambed but the water still covered his shoulders.

"Why'd you disappear like that?"  She was still trembling from the scare he gave her.

"You didn't make it none too easy, but here's supper."  He raised his arm for her to see a goodsized fish wriggling in his grasp.

She couldn't believe her eyes or him - a barehanded catch!  When he reached her she still couldn't touch the streambed and her lower lip was quivering.

"Come here.  You're shivering."  He held the squirming fish to the side and put his free arm around her.  "Wrap your legs around my waist."  He pressed her body into his chest and headed for shore.

Chesa rested her arms on his powerful shoulders, feeling his hard muscles beneath her fingertips.  Pressed close to him she felt the warmth of his chest soak through her shirt and her trembling calmed.  She kissed him on the neck just below his earlobe as she whispered "You amaze me."

As soon as they got close to shore, Joe flung the fish onto the bank and carried Chesa the rest of the way.  He added more wood to the fire.  They would need it.  Chesa grabbed the blanket she had the foresight to bring.

"Best thing to do is take your wet shirt off and put my shirt on then wrap up in the blanket."

She didn't question him; she was cold.  Using a boulder as a dressing screen, she switched shirts tying the long shirttails of Joe's shirt around her ribs so her wet trousers wouldn't soak into it.

Joe had the fish cleaned and was just putting it over the fire.  They both sat at one end of the blanket.  Joe wrapped his arms around her waist and Chesa wrapped the remainder of the blanket around both of them.  She settled back against him, enjoying the comfort of his arms around her waist.

A while later, fish eaten, clothes almost dried out, both of them warm, they relaxed in the glow of the flames without speaking.  She was grateful Joe was a man who, like her, didn't always have to be saying something.  He shared more about himself through actions and expressions.  Her legs were getting stiff from sitting so long and she surmised Joe's back could stand to part with the fallen tree trunk he'd been leaning against.  She stood, turning her back towards the fire to finish drying out and watched Joe make himself comfortable in the space she vacated.  Her eyes slowly drank in the sensuality of his physique.

Stretching across the blanket on his stomach Joe looked up at her lazily through half-closed lids and smiled before completely closing his eyes.  There was something about Chesa that drew him to her.  A soft, sensitive woman he wanted to protect from the roughness of the west.  And yet she also possessed a strong will and determination to be her own woman.  She had taken up weapons to protect herself rather than depend on the Captain or some other man.  Financially, too, she was her own woman although he knew her family had offered assistance if she needed it.  And when she stumbled, she learned from it instead of running away.  He wanted to help her, guide her, when she would let him.

Ever so quietly Chesa knelt next to Joe.  She knew he was aware of where she was but she didn't want to disturb him too much.  His magnificently sculpted back begged to be touched.  Did he know?  He was so perceptive.  Was he silently extending an invitation?

Without any forewarning Joe felt her hands press the small of his back.  His muscles tensed at her touch.   She felt his reaction and her hands remained motionless for a few moments as he relaxed into their warmth.  Small boned but strong and sure, her hands slowly stroked his back upwards, across his shoulders, and down his arms, then retraced their pattern back to his waist.  The warm sensations radiating from her touch further relaxed him as her hands roamed over his back and shoulders.  Periodically she switched to a gentle massaging of a particular muscle releasing the residual tension it held, her fingertips sending pleasant jolts through him.  Utter relaxation replaced the tension he first felt.

Chesa set a few more logs on the fire and sat back letting its dancing flames entertain her.  She expected Joe would drop off to sleep he was so relaxed.  Her eyes flowed over his rippling muscles while her fingers carried the memory of their journey.

Joe stirred.  "Mmmmm."  He reached for her hand kissing it.  He felt her hair brush his shoulder as she bent over him.  Her lips caressed the nape of his neck as tenderly as he first kissed her.  That stirred up a whole different sensation.  He rolled onto his side pulling her down beside him.  His lips found hers, kissing them with greater urgency and more conviction than that morning.  The shirttails tied at her ribs had worked loose. He slid his hand under the shirt at her waist, pausing for her muscles to relax just as she had for him, before slowly gliding up the length of her back.

When Joe's hand touched the bare skin of her back Chesa tensed and released a barely audible gasp.  The warmth in the still hand at her back eased her apprehension and she felt her body aching for him to continue.  He did.  His hand, gentle yet strong, sent ripples of excitement through her body.  She closed her eyes and her lips instinctively found his.  His kiss was slow, deliberate, and thoughtful and she returned it just as slowly, deliberately, and thoughtfully.

Joe slowly explored the terrain of her back with his hand, taking in the silkiness of her now warm skin.  Momentarily freeing her lips, they shared a smile of mutual trust and affection.  He pulled her soft curves into the contours of his own body and traced the fullness of her lips with his tongue before covering them with his own.

"Mmmmm" was the only thing Chesa could muster when Joe let her know it was time to return to town.
 
 

Although Chesa had planned to go back to Virginia for Christmas, harsh winter snows had changed her mind.  More to the point, the winter weather had changed her parents' minds.  It was decided she wouldn't risk the journey and instead return in the spring for a visit.

But believing Chesa wouldn't be in Laredo for the holidays, Joe had let Chad talk him into volunteering to deliver two extradited prisoners to Ogden, Utah.  He had a feeling Chad had some ideas for turning the trip into a holiday and he didn't want to miss the fun.

Before Joe left on December 1 they'd promised each other they'd celebrate when Chesa returned in January.  When Chesa's plans changed, she looked forward to spending the holiday with Joe in a town and a house that were feeling more and more like home to her.  She had grown more excited about surprising him as the days drew closer for his return, although the Captain couldn't promise they'd be back by Christmas.  From his experience with these two, he cautioned her that Chad and Joe weren't good at keeping to schedules.  On December 16 the Captain got a wire from Oregon informing him that the prisoners were already in Salem and thanked him for the good time made by his Rangers who had delivered the prisoners to Ogden two days ahead of schedule.

Late Christmas Eve found Chesa growing concerned.  Joe and Chad had not returned from Odgen or sent word of any reason for delay.  When she had asked the Captain about them he reminded her that it was winter and any number of travel related problems could have slowed their return home.  She pestered Reese for any information he had.

"Well, ole Chad see, likes to have his fun.  Probly give the bad weather as their 'scuse for bein' a mite late."  Chesa was sure Reese was growing concerned for his friends but didn't want to say anything to upset her.  He was sweet like that and Chesa loved him for it.

Early on Christmas day Chesa went to Captain Parmalee's office where she knew he'd be.  He'd given as many men as he felt he could spare the day off to enjoy as they pleased.  Reese was there when she opened the door, having volunteered to stay on duty.  "Captain, have you heard anything from Joe?"  Chesa hadn't slept and made no effort to mask her growing fear.  "Or Chad?" she added.

The Captain had noticed Chesa taking a particular interest in Joe lately.  He softly stated more than asked.  "You and Joe have feelings for each other, don't you."

Chesa could only nod her head in affirmation while she fought back the tears welling up in her eyes.

The Captain came around his desk and put his arms around her as though comforting a child.  "Unfortunately I haven't heard anything Chesa.  But Joe and Chad have always taken care of each other.  They may be somewhere where the wires are down.  I've sent wires to every town between Laredo and Ogden to be on the lookout for them and I'll let you know the moment we hear anything.  Why don't I take you and Reese to breakfast now?  We can all use some."

It was later in the day when Reese knocked on her door.  The Captain had just received a wire from Virginia City.  Joe and Chad had run into some kind of trouble but they were going to be okay.  Reese didn't want to tell her but Chesa forced him to repeat the full message.  Both men had been hurt pretty badly.  They needed a week or more to recuperate before attempting the return journey.  They'd send a wire when they were two days out of Laredo.  The mixture of relief and concern she felt poured out through her tears.  Joe was hurt, but how badly she didn't know.  At least he was alive.

Looking on as Chesa released her emotions, Reese felt his own eyes moisten and he awkwardly eased his arms around Chesa's waist.  "Chessie girl it's gonna be ok.  Joe'll be home soon.  You jus wait and see.  But you go on an' cry all ya need to if'n it'll make ya feel better."

Chesa was deeply touched by both Reese's attempts to comfort her and his compassion.  She laid her head on his shoulder and gave up the struggle to control her tears, letting them flow freely.

After she'd cried herself out, Reese tried to lighten her mood a little.  "Now Chessie, you don't never have to worry 'bout ole Joe.  Why he's as strong an' stubborn as a mule.  Onlyest thing he has ta worry over is what the Capn's gonna do, unless a course they can explain bein' all the way over in Virginia City.  Those two just can't stay outta trouble without me along a watchin' out fer 'em."

It was a bright clear day in January when the stage returning Joe and Chad rolled into Laredo.  A wire from Joe sent en route had alerted them two days prior.  Reese saw it first and ran to Chesa's law office.  He opened the door wide and called inside.  "Hey, Chessie girl, they're back!"  His face was consumed with a huge smile.

On a dead run Reese and Chesa reached the stage as it came to a halt.  Chad stepped out first.  Joe gingerly eased himself down from the stage, supporting himself on Chad's waiting shoulder.  Chesa barely touched him as she slipped her arm around his neck, not wanting to jostle him, not knowing exactly where he was hurt.  Joe lowered his face to kiss her.   When he lifted his mouth from hers, she gazed into his eyes and smiled.  "I've been so worried and glad you're finally back home."

Joe didn't want to let go of her despite the protests his wounds gave him.  He, too, was happy to be back in Laredo and wrapped his good arm further around her.  And he was happier still to hear Chesa refer to it as home for the first time.  His lips recaptured hers, more demanding this time as he moved his mouth over hers, devouring its sweetness.

Chad stood watching the tender reunion between Joe and Chesa in utter astonishment.  Taking in the silly smile on Reese's face and throwing up his arm he exclaimed "When did this happen?"

Joe, who had no intention of parting lips with Chesa, didn't answer.  Reese was too busy basking in Joe and Chesa's joy.  Captain Parmalee finally spoke up.  "Apparently right under your nose Cooper."

This story "wraps" around one written by a different author.  If you want to know how Joe and Chad got hurt, check You've Got a Friend.  We expect more intersecting stories in the future.