was older than he seemed. His clear blue eyes and their intent gaze gave him an air of maturity. Then there were his memories of a war he should have been too young to experience.
Jase had known boys who claimed to be twenty or more who hadn't a hair on their chins. He adjusted his estimation of the boy's age up to sixteen, the age Jase was when he joined the Texas Rangers.
Landers was doing some sizing up of his own. Jase recognized the reaction his own transformation wrought. His beard was flecked with gray, which made him seem older. Clean, shaved, with his hair and moustache neatly trimmed, he now looked what he was, a man of thirty. Years had literally been washed away.
The waitress came over as soon as they were seated. She gave Jase a warm smile and a delicate blush. "Coffee?"
Jase returned her smile. "You're lookin' very pretty tonight. Even prettier than usual."
"Why, thank you, sir. I set aside some fresh biscuits for you. Usually they're gone by now."
"That was exceedingly kind of you."
Landers' mouth twisted into a disgusted expression.
"Give it time," Jase teased. "You'll learn to appreciate the fairer sex some day."
"I'll never act like that!"
The revulsion driving those words took Jase aback. He wasn't about to put up with rude behavior, but this was unexpected.
Before he could get his bearings, Landers apologized. "Sorry. That was uncalled for." The boy echoed the very words Jase was mustering. "I should learn to hold my tongue."
Landers was as good as his word, sitting quietly while they waited for their supper. It was stew and biscuits again. The meal was good, satisfying their hunger and cooling their tempers.
"Warmer than Kansas, I reckon," Jase remarked.
"A bit," Landers replied.
"What part of Kansas you from?"
"Cherryville. I was born on a farm further southwest."
"We got somethin' in common. I'm a farm boy too." His eyes met the boy's. "And like you, I lost my home to war."
"Where?"
"Not far south of here, on the Brazos."
"Union Army?"
Jase's mouth tightened into a hard line. "Banditos." He turned his attention to scooping the last bit of stew.
When he looked up again, the boy watched him, frowning.
"Were you slave holders?" Landers asked.
"My family was 'poor white trash.'"
The kid looked blank.
"My folks were neither slave-holders nor holding with slavery."
"Why did you join the Rangers?"
"To protect Texas."
Landers gave him a thoughtful nod. "My father fought for Kansas and the Union. My aunt tells me that my mother was an abolitionist. I can't say I remember one way or the other. My aunt, though, says that slavery is a sin. I think the sin is treating people like they're not really people."
They lingered over pie and coffee. Now that the boy had started talking, Jase only had to drop a comment here and a question there to maintain the conversation.
When they headed upstairs, their easy understanding experienced a setback. Landers insisted he was comfortable on the floor and that is where he would spend the night. Jase figured he'd let the kid fall asleep wherever he liked and put him to bed later, but Jase fell asleep first and Landers stayed on the floor.
Next day, Jase was irritated―with himself and the boy.
"I'm not gonna put up with any more foolishness. Sleepin' on the ground when you had to is one thing. Sleepin' on the floor in a hotel room is wasteful."
Landers neither argued nor agreed.
Jase sighed. "Saddle the horses ."
They travelled in easy stages and made the quiet town of Coldwater by evening. Not used to riding all day, Landers was practically dead on the hoof. Jase had to force him to stay up long enough to have something to eat.
He paid for a room over Coldwater's only saloon. The accommodations weren't fancy, but the place was clean. Like most rooms, it was supplied with a double bed. This one also had a cradle.
"I can use the mattress in the cradle," the boy said. "I'll put it on the floor."
Unbuttoning his shirt, Jase sighed. "Kid,
Jase had known boys who claimed to be twenty or more who hadn't a hair on their chins. He adjusted his estimation of the boy's age up to sixteen, the age Jase was when he joined the Texas Rangers.
Landers was doing some sizing up of his own. Jase recognized the reaction his own transformation wrought. His beard was flecked with gray, which made him seem older. Clean, shaved, with his hair and moustache neatly trimmed, he now looked what he was, a man of thirty. Years had literally been washed away.
The waitress came over as soon as they were seated. She gave Jase a warm smile and a delicate blush. "Coffee?"
Jase returned her smile. "You're lookin' very pretty tonight. Even prettier than usual."
"Why, thank you, sir. I set aside some fresh biscuits for you. Usually they're gone by now."
"That was exceedingly kind of you."
Landers' mouth twisted into a disgusted expression.
"Give it time," Jase teased. "You'll learn to appreciate the fairer sex some day."
"I'll never act like that!"
The revulsion driving those words took Jase aback. He wasn't about to put up with rude behavior, but this was unexpected.
Before he could get his bearings, Landers apologized. "Sorry. That was uncalled for." The boy echoed the very words Jase was mustering. "I should learn to hold my tongue."
Landers was as good as his word, sitting quietly while they waited for their supper. It was stew and biscuits again. The meal was good, satisfying their hunger and cooling their tempers.
"Warmer than Kansas, I reckon," Jase remarked.
"A bit," Landers replied.
"What part of Kansas you from?"
"Cherryville. I was born on a farm further southwest."
"We got somethin' in common. I'm a farm boy too." His eyes met the boy's. "And like you, I lost my home to war."
"Where?"
"Not far south of here, on the Brazos."
"Union Army?"
Jase's mouth tightened into a hard line. "Banditos." He turned his attention to scooping the last bit of stew.
When he looked up again, the boy watched him, frowning.
"Were you slave holders?" Landers asked.
"My family was 'poor white trash.'"
The kid looked blank.
"My folks were neither slave-holders nor holding with slavery."
"Why did you join the Rangers?"
"To protect Texas."
Landers gave him a thoughtful nod. "My father fought for Kansas and the Union. My aunt tells me that my mother was an abolitionist. I can't say I remember one way or the other. My aunt, though, says that slavery is a sin. I think the sin is treating people like they're not really people."
They lingered over pie and coffee. Now that the boy had started talking, Jase only had to drop a comment here and a question there to maintain the conversation.
When they headed upstairs, their easy understanding experienced a setback. Landers insisted he was comfortable on the floor and that is where he would spend the night. Jase figured he'd let the kid fall asleep wherever he liked and put him to bed later, but Jase fell asleep first and Landers stayed on the floor.
Next day, Jase was irritated―with himself and the boy.
"I'm not gonna put up with any more foolishness. Sleepin' on the ground when you had to is one thing. Sleepin' on the floor in a hotel room is wasteful."
Landers neither argued nor agreed.
Jase sighed. "Saddle the horses ."
They travelled in easy stages and made the quiet town of Coldwater by evening. Not used to riding all day, Landers was practically dead on the hoof. Jase had to force him to stay up long enough to have something to eat.
He paid for a room over Coldwater's only saloon. The accommodations weren't fancy, but the place was clean. Like most rooms, it was supplied with a double bed. This one also had a cradle.
"I can use the mattress in the cradle," the boy said. "I'll put it on the floor."
Unbuttoning his shirt, Jase sighed. "Kid,
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