Love on the Line - Deeanne Gist [112]
He’d been as cryptic as possible in case the letter was intercepted and only hinted he’d had to reveal himself to a third party. He made no mention of it being a woman, only that the party was in his corner.
He needed to decide what to do about her. Them. She’d not asked for a declaration and he’d not offered one, but his actions were those of a man with marriage on his mind. And that wouldn’t be far from the truth. It was on his mind. The problem was, he hadn’t yet decided if he actually wanted to marry her.
He tried to imagine walking away from her when the job was over and never coming back. Impossible. He wouldn’t do it. Still, he didn’t want to marry her only to see her for snatches at a time in between assignments. Plenty of Rangers did it, but he wasn’t willing to. If he was going to settle down, it would be in the most literal sense.
And do what? he thought. Telephone repair work?
That was the part which always brought him up short—that and the fact he loved rangering. Still, his prejudice against phones wasn’t nearly as bad as it had been. He could actually see some benefits in having one. But there was a big difference between having one and foisting the blame things onto someone else.
The sun disappeared from the horizon, prompting a need for lanterns, but he was reluctant to move just yet.
“So tragic about Mr. Prysborski,” Georgie said. “His boys are going to have to grow up mighty fast now. Can you imagine? Fields full of cotton. The price dropping every day. And ten mouths to feed.”
The telephone poles had stopped well short of Prysborski’s place, which was why Luke had never run across his farm. He’d meant to scout the areas beyond the poles, but he’d always been in a hurry to return to home base at the close of each day. It was no excuse and now a man was dead.
He wondered if Mrs. Prysborski knew of her husband’s involvement with Comer. Tempted as he was to ride out, he didn’t want to show his cards by asking too many questions. Not when he was so close to finding his quarry. So he’d keep eyes and ears open, and continue to bide his time.
“Want to play Around the World With Nellie Bly?” Georgie asked.
He cringed. Never had he played a more ridiculous board game. It could be worse, he supposed. It could be All Around Texas With Frank Comer.
“Sure,” he said, releasing her. “I’ll light the lanterns.”
He moved to the match safe, and she fairly flew to the shelves housing her beloved game.
Chapter Thirty-Six
If anyone had told him being a Ranger would require trapping mice in Mason jars, he wouldn’t have believed it.
“Make sure that string’s good ’n’ tight, now,” Duane cautioned, stretching a piece of brown paper over the lid of his jar while simultaneously keeping an eye on Luke.
Luke secured the string around the rim of his, then flicked the paper covering with his middle finger. Tight as a drum.
“Good. Now take yer knife and cut a little x right in the center o’ yer paper.”
Opening his pocketknife, Luke did as instructed.
“That’s it. Now start on the next one.”
The two of them sat in the back room of Pfeuffer Feed Store preparing a dozen traps. It was Duane’s job to keep the storage area clear of rodents, and he’d been negligent of late. The overwhelming odor of grain and rodent feces made it difficult to breathe.
Luke repositioned the lantern to better see, its moving flame throwing shadows over bags of feed piled in every available corner like hulking ghosts. A selection of new and old cast-iron feed boxes, feed trays, and feed troughs leaned against the south wall.
“I’m gettin’ mighty tired of Necker always making excuses ever’ time I wanna go night hunting.” With a put-upon sigh, Duane shook his head. “Don’t ever get hitched, Luke. It done ruins yer life.”
Luke had met Necker’s new wife for the first time at Maifest. She was a pretty little thing and clearly thought he walked on water. If he felt the same of her, he gave no indication—other than his reluctance to spend too many evenings carousing with the fellas.
“How long they been married?” he asked.