at the age of seventy-four, her husband and four sons placed her in a grave on the ranch. The stone at her head read, To my angel, Anna McCord. One more time, “I love you.”
Wynn McCord joined his wife less than a year later. Everyone agreed that once she’d gone he was never really alive.
The great-great-grandchildren of Anna and Wynn still work the ranch today. If you ask any of them why they always settle on the McCord land when they marry, they all say the same thing. McCords stay.
Undertaking Texas
L INDA B RODAY
Chapter 1
South Texas
1883
Slender pink fingers of dawn drifted through a crack in the livery’s loft and stabbed Stoney Burke in the eye. He shifted on the bed of hay and blinked, trying to recall where he was.
He’d been in so many towns they’d blended together into a patchwork of faces and problems.
Oh yes, he recalled this unsavory one. Devils Creek.
He had a dozen reasons to avoid this place. A friend he couldn’t say good-bye to. A woman he couldn’t forgive. A memory he couldn’t erase. If he could avoid Texanna Wilder, all the better.
But fate had a cruel sense of humor in most cases.
Sooner or later he’d run into her, no doubt about it.
A heavy sigh came from deep within him. Stoney ignored his complaining bones and stood, settling his hat on his head. Then lifting the saddlebags that had served as a pillow, he slung them over his shoulder and made his way to the ladder.
Halfway down, all hell broke loose outside.
Had he run smack into a range war? Or maybe a jailbreak?
Clearing the last steps in a giant leap, he flung his saddlebags aside and ran for the door of the livery.
Chickens running loose in the street squawked angrily, flapping their wings. Dogs aired their lungs, their barking fit to raise the dead, as though they were trying to rise above the loud voices of humans. And in the midst of all the clamor and carryings-on came the pounding of hooves as the morning stage thundered into town, adding another level of chaos.
Stoney knew of the lawless ways of Devils Creek, although the town had appeared as peaceable as a widow woman’s rocking chair when he’d ridden in late last night.
Now he could’ve sworn he’d stepped into a full-scale war of some sort. A crowd formed a circle in the middle of Main Street, blocking Stoney’s view.
For a second the mob parted and shock jolted through him.
A hoarse oath sprang free before he could swallow it.
Someone had trussed up a woman like a turkey on Christmas morning. She lay in a heap in the swirling dust of the street.
His gaze hardened. The squawking chickens scattered this way and that when he stalked into their midst.
Pushing through the swarm of people, he saw that not only was a woman at the center of the attention, but a youngster clung desperately to the woman’s skirts as well. The boy’s lip quivered as he bravely tried not to cry. He lost that battle when a tear spilled and trickled down the patch of freckles on his cheek, followed by a sob.
Suddenly the boy launched himself, kicking and clawing, on the man who was attempting to drag the woman. “Leave my mama alone.”
“What in the Sam Hill!” Stoney bellowed, wrenching the man’s grip loose from the length of rope that remained after tying it around the woman’s waist. Clearly intending to flog the woman, the scoundrel didn’t see him coming. Stoney delivered a hard right hook to the middle of the well-dressed stranger’s face. The man’s narrow-brimmed bowler went flying as bones cracked under Stoney’s fist.
“You broke my nose!” The jackass grabbed his bloody face, dancing in a circle as if trying to find a safe place to light.
“That’s all I broke…for now. You’ll get more of the same if you don’t untie this woman and be quick about it.”
The man’s eyes lit on Stoney’s Texas Ranger badge and widened a bit. He seemed to have trouble swallowing, although he hadn’t totally lost his bluster. “This ain’t none of your
Wynn McCord joined his wife less than a year later. Everyone agreed that once she’d gone he was never really alive.
The great-great-grandchildren of Anna and Wynn still work the ranch today. If you ask any of them why they always settle on the McCord land when they marry, they all say the same thing. McCords stay.
Undertaking Texas
L INDA B RODAY
Chapter 1
South Texas
1883
Slender pink fingers of dawn drifted through a crack in the livery’s loft and stabbed Stoney Burke in the eye. He shifted on the bed of hay and blinked, trying to recall where he was.
He’d been in so many towns they’d blended together into a patchwork of faces and problems.
Oh yes, he recalled this unsavory one. Devils Creek.
He had a dozen reasons to avoid this place. A friend he couldn’t say good-bye to. A woman he couldn’t forgive. A memory he couldn’t erase. If he could avoid Texanna Wilder, all the better.
But fate had a cruel sense of humor in most cases.
Sooner or later he’d run into her, no doubt about it.
A heavy sigh came from deep within him. Stoney ignored his complaining bones and stood, settling his hat on his head. Then lifting the saddlebags that had served as a pillow, he slung them over his shoulder and made his way to the ladder.
Halfway down, all hell broke loose outside.
Had he run smack into a range war? Or maybe a jailbreak?
Clearing the last steps in a giant leap, he flung his saddlebags aside and ran for the door of the livery.
Chickens running loose in the street squawked angrily, flapping their wings. Dogs aired their lungs, their barking fit to raise the dead, as though they were trying to rise above the loud voices of humans. And in the midst of all the clamor and carryings-on came the pounding of hooves as the morning stage thundered into town, adding another level of chaos.
Stoney knew of the lawless ways of Devils Creek, although the town had appeared as peaceable as a widow woman’s rocking chair when he’d ridden in late last night.
Now he could’ve sworn he’d stepped into a full-scale war of some sort. A crowd formed a circle in the middle of Main Street, blocking Stoney’s view.
For a second the mob parted and shock jolted through him.
A hoarse oath sprang free before he could swallow it.
Someone had trussed up a woman like a turkey on Christmas morning. She lay in a heap in the swirling dust of the street.
His gaze hardened. The squawking chickens scattered this way and that when he stalked into their midst.
Pushing through the swarm of people, he saw that not only was a woman at the center of the attention, but a youngster clung desperately to the woman’s skirts as well. The boy’s lip quivered as he bravely tried not to cry. He lost that battle when a tear spilled and trickled down the patch of freckles on his cheek, followed by a sob.
Suddenly the boy launched himself, kicking and clawing, on the man who was attempting to drag the woman. “Leave my mama alone.”
“What in the Sam Hill!” Stoney bellowed, wrenching the man’s grip loose from the length of rope that remained after tying it around the woman’s waist. Clearly intending to flog the woman, the scoundrel didn’t see him coming. Stoney delivered a hard right hook to the middle of the well-dressed stranger’s face. The man’s narrow-brimmed bowler went flying as bones cracked under Stoney’s fist.
“You broke my nose!” The jackass grabbed his bloody face, dancing in a circle as if trying to find a safe place to light.
“That’s all I broke…for now. You’ll get more of the same if you don’t untie this woman and be quick about it.”
The man’s eyes lit on Stoney’s Texas Ranger badge and widened a bit. He seemed to have trouble swallowing, although he hadn’t totally lost his bluster. “This ain’t none of your
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