Description

Allen Bates, a member of the Bastrop Kid's old gang, joins a company of Texas Rangers after the Reconstruction is lifted. The Ranger company, commanded by one Leander McNelly, eventually invades Mexico in pursuit of cattle thieves. As Captain McNelly begins to wither away from tuberculosis, Bates is sent undercover to Cuero, Texas, to gather intelligence on the infamous Sutton-Taylor feud for the Rangers. Captain McNelly returns from his sickbed to settle the feud once and for all time.

Foreword

Lady and the Ranger deals, in part, with the infamous Sutton-Taylor feud. This historical struggle has been so burdened with misinformation that the author feels it necessary to supply the reader with certain caveats before setting the scene. The Taylor family was well established in DeWitt County before and after the Civil War. There were relatively few members of the Sutton family in the area, and most of them had nothing to do with the feud. What became known as the 'Sutton Clan' were, for the most part, not members of the Sutton family, but rather a political regime which gained control of DeWitt County government in the early 1870's.

They were so called because the instigators of the regime had once ridden with Bill Sutton, the only member of the Sutton family clearly documented as having participated in the feud. Thus, although this feud might have begun with personal animosity, the ongoing struggle was essentially political in nature, with the Taylors acting in opposition to what amounted to political tyranny.

Chapter 1

February 18th, 1869: Brandon Taylor struggled against the rope biting into his wrists, keeping himself astride his galloping mount only by digging his knees hard against the beast's heaving flanks. The torchlight from the rider ahead cast an eerie glow over the DeWitt County landscape.

Taylor's screams tore into the night in raw gasps. "You ain't goin' to get away with this!"

A voice from behind mocked him, "We killed your cousin Buck and got away with it. Ain't you heard? It's open season on Taylors."

"Tumlinson, I'll see you dead- even if I have to come back from the grave to do it!"

The riders approached a mott of Pin Oaks and reined to a halt. The man ahead slid from the saddle and turned to leer at Taylor. "Time for your necktie party, Brandon." He pulled a bottle of cheap hooch from his saddlebags. "Want a shot?"

Taylor's eyes bored into the young man holding the bottle. "I don't drink with cowards, Sutton. Not even on my last day on Earth."

"Coward?" Bill Sutton swallowed a big gulp of redeye. "Shootin' down Buck Taylor was a community service. He shouldn't have impugned the family honor like he did."

"Bill, when an honorable Sutton walks this county, I reckon that ol' Guadalupe over there will up and change its banks and head for Galveston Bay."

Sutton's face twisted in the torchlight. "Up 'til now, we only planned to throw a scare into you. But now . . . well, you've done sullied the fair name of Sutton. Wouldn't be right to let you walk free after that." He nodded at Joe Tumlinson.

Tumlinson dismounted, loosed his lasso, and fashioned a noose with expert fingers.

Brandon Taylor kicked his mount in the flanks and leaned forward. The Roan kicked up clods of moist earth and sped toward the river. A fusillade of pistol-balls pursued horse and rider. One ball lodged in the Roan's rump, another tore through the fleshy part of Taylor's calf.

Taylor's mare stumbled into a ragged gait, coursing through the brush. Brandon muttered a desperate prayer, while branches did their best to tear him from the saddle. The mare stiffened her legs to stop- too late. Man and beast hurtled over the embankment and crashed into the cold waters of the Guadalupe River below.

Five riders slowed to a halt at the top of the embankment and peered into the river's murky depths. Torchlight revealed the dark outline of a horse lying still, body half submerged. The men rode downstream in search of their prey. A form floating on the far side of the river caught the light for a fleeting moment.

Joe Tumlinson drew and fired his .44 at the form. The shape in the river caught the flickering light once again.

"That him?"

Tumlinson holstered his six-gun. "Yeah. If he wasn't dead when he hit the river, he sure as hell is now!"

Sutton stared at the river. "Reckon we need to make sure?"

"Bill, you can ride into that cold water if you want, but my old body just ain't up to it. I'll see you in town tomorrow."

Joe Tumlinson flicked the reins and spurred his mount back toward Clinton township. Bill Sutton watched the remaining members of the clan fall in line behind the older man. He stared into the murky waters, doubts nagging at his soul.

He listened to the guttering torch for a moment, then muttered, "This ain't ever goin' to end!"

Sutton threw the torch into the river and nudged his mount back toward the trail.

The swift current swept Brandon Taylor's body toward the Gulf of Mexico with unrelenting force. Another victim had fallen to the hatred which stalked central Texas like a deadly beast of prey.

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