Birdie's Nest Page 6

  Olivia’s eyes narrowed. She opened her mouth to speak but Tad beat her to it. “What in thunderation do you have on, young lady?”

  She shot her chin out and sent him a smirk. “They are britches, of course. Mother bought them for me yesterday.” She smiled at Birdie. “Birdie got a pair, and I’ve wanted a pair for ages, but I know I’m not supposed to wear them in mixed company.”

  His eyes narrowed, as he looked her up and down. “And what do you call me?”

  Bethany strode to his end of the table, slid her arms around his neck and placed a kiss on his cheek. “My wonderful brother.”

  He threw up his hands. “Mother, I hope this doesn’t backfire. I’d sure hate to have to run off any of the hands. They’re all good workers.” He shot his sister a glare. “And I assure you, miss, if I ever catch you prancing around in those in front of any of the men, I’ll marry you off to one and see how you like being a ranch hand’s wife.”

  Bethany’s eyes rounded in horror. “Mother…”

  “He’s trying to rile you, honey.” Olivia pointed a finger at the girl and used it to emphasize her words. “But you take heed of what he said. If you wear those in front of any man other than your brother, I’ll burn them.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Tad rubbed his hands together. “Now that’s settled, can we eat? I’m starving and we’re burning day light.”

  Olivia lifted the platter of meat and handed it to Birdie. She took one piece of bacon and one of sausage before passing it to Tad. He raked half of what was left onto his plate and passed it along. He studied Birdie as he chewed. “You mentioned a job. Do you have any idea what you might like to do?” He grinned. “I bet Mother could help you find a husband to take care of you.” When her mouth dropped open, he laughed out loud.

  She snorted. “I don’t need a man to take care of me.”

  “Don’t you want to get married, have babies?” Bethany asked.

  “Sure, someday when the right man comes along.”

  “How old are you anyway? Aren’t you kind of old not to be married?”

  “Bethany!” chided Olivia. “That is rude.”

  Birdie chuckled. “I don’t mind. I’m thirty-three. Not so ancient in my time not to be married. As a matter of fact, many women don’t have their first child until they’re in their forties.”

  “Never met the right man, huh?” Tad shoveled the last bite of breakfast in his mouth and chewed while waiting for her answer.

  “Nope. Oh, there were several I considered marrying, but I just couldn’t see spending the rest of my life with them. I’d probably be bored to tears.”

  Tad nodded as if he understood.

  Olivia smiled. “I understand perfectly, dear. My late husband was my one and only love, and there was never a dull moment throughout our marriage.” She patted Birdie’s hand. “You mentioned your time, Birdie. What year exactly are you referring to?”

  “2012.”

  Olivia coughed into her napkin and Bethany giggled, but Tad remained silent and studied her intently. She remained still under his perusal. “Will you tell us all about it tonight after dinner?”

  “Of course.”

  “Good.” He stood and leaned down to kiss his mother on top of the head. “I’ll try to be back before dinner.” He turned to Bethany. “Remember what I said about those dungarees.” Before she could answer, he’d turned and was out the door. It slammed in finality leaving an uncomfortable silence in its wake.

  Bethany glanced up at Birdie and then spoke to her mother. “What about Birdie and her britches?”

  “She’s a grown woman. I don’t have control over her like I do you.”

  Birdie didn’t miss the unspoken message. “I’ll be circumspect, Olivia.”

  * * *

  Tad leaned back, satisfied. “Great meal, Maybelle, especially the peas.” The older woman had cooked for their family for close to thirty years. She’d sneaked him cookies when he’d been a boy. No doubt his parents were aware of the subterfuge and didn’t mind. Nothing escaped their notice around the ranch.

  She lifted his dessert dish and beamed down at him. “Thank you, Mr. Tad. I do like to see a man eat a healthy meal.”

  Mr. Tad. She’d called him that from the day she came into their home. “Has Alice gone home?”

  “Of course she has. She never stays later than four.”

  Good. He didn’t want the young woman who helped Mother and Maybelle with the house to hear tonight’s discussion.

  Maybelle continued removing dishes. “Y’all want more coffee?”

  Tad rose. “No, but thank you. We’ll be in the parlor.” He stopped. “Maybelle, we can count on you to keep anything you learn about Birdie to yourself, can’t we?”

  She tucked her chin toward her ample breast and huffed. “Have you ever known me to spout tales about this family?”

  He kissed her cheek. “No, never. But, you may hear some real odd things from her, things hard to believe.”

  She stalked off to the kitchen mumbling under her breath. He caught words like “fool boy” and “outlandish indeed.” He grinned and hurried to catch up with the women.

  He settled in a wingback chair. Birdie, quite attractive in a blue serge dress with white piping, sat on the sofa beside his mother, Bethany on the floor at her feet. “Whenever you’re ready, Birdie.”

  Her chest rose as she took a deep breath. “Well, I’ve already told you I’m from the future, from 2012. In my time period, I work as a Texas Ranger.” He’d explained to his mother about the Texas star, but not Bethany.

  Bethany’s eyes rounded and she clapped a hand over her mouth. He expected her to emit a “woo” any minute. She squealed. “Really? A woman ranger?”

  “Yes, but now that I’m in 1890 I’ll never be able to serve. Wilbur King visited me yesterday morning and wouldn’t let me have my star back.” She perked up. “But, he promised if I could outshoot him, he’d return it.”

  Startled, Tad sputtered. “The adjutant general of Texas?”

  “Yes. I recognized him from the picture hanging in the Texas Ranger Museum.”

  Tad would be talking to Detective Ethan as soon as the opportunity arose, to get answers. Of course, with someone having a ranger star, especially a woman, the general would either send someone or come himself to investigate. Due to budget cuts, their numbers had been reduced, so it made sense for King to come himself rather than pull a man from the field.

  Mother shook her head. “I can’t imagine a woman riding with those roughneck men. Chasing Indians and riffraff of all kinds. It’s… it’s....” She threw up her hands and shook her head.

  “Olivia, the ranger organization in the future is entirely different. Though we work in the field a lot, much of what we do is detective work. Most of my day is spent in an office.”

  “Well, thank the Lord,” Mother muttered as she set her paddle fan in motion.

  Tad studied his sister, worried that she’d take Birdie’s story to heart and be disappointed when the truth came out. He still didn't believe she was from the future. Breathless with excitement, Bethany asked. “What’s it like in the future?”

  “We have automobiles that will travel over one hundred miles per hour, we’ve put men on the moon, and have kitchen appliances that cook food…” She snapped her fingers. “Just like that.”

  “And the food tastes good?” asked Mother.

  Birdie shrugged. “Not when cooked in a microwave, but it does when cooked in a gas or electric oven. You’ll see the invention of electric ranges in your lifetime, Olivia.” She leaned over and wrapped one of Bethany’s curls around her finger, pulled and released. It sprang back into a corkscrew. “Bethany, you’ll see electric curling irons and hair dryers.”

  “You mean you don’t have to heat them over a fire?”

  “Nope.”

  Tad watched the women as he listened. Mother was reserving judgment, but he knew she wanted to ask questions. Like him, she couldn’t believe in machines f
lying in the air and certainly not in space. Heck, they’d never get him in one, that’s for sure. Everything she said seemed right out of one of those Jules Verne novels he’d read in his youth. They needed some proof. He didn’t necessarily believe Birdie was lying on purpose. Evidently she believed every word she said.

  “Men on the moon, huh?” He tried but couldn’t keep a straight face.

  Birdie’s eyes narrowed. “I know it sounds ridiculous, but it’s true.”

  “I know you believe every word you’re saying, but we can’t accept that you actually traveled back in time. Time travel isn’t possible. If it was, people would be popping back and forth all the time.” And surely they’d know about it, wouldn’t they?

  “How do you know they don’t?”

  Bethany piped up. “Yeah, Tad.”

  “I don’t, but I think if it happened we’d know at least one person who’d traveled forward or back.”

  Birdie grinned. “Well, now you do.”

  “Look Birdie, I don’t think you are crazy. I feel you believe what you are saying. But for me to believe you are from the future I’m going to need more than your word and a silver star with 2010 on it.”

  * * *

  Morning found Birdie at a loss of what to do with herself. She’d helped Maybelle wash dishes, one of Birdie’s least favorite chores, and now joined Bethany at the barn, located about a mile from the house, to collect a horse to ride.

  Tad appeared before she had a chance and gave the wrangler on hand strict orders. “Saddle old Molly. She’s as gentle as a baby and don’t let Miss Braxton out of your sight. She recently suffered a head wound and a throw might kill her.”

  “Sure thing, boss.” The young cowboy winked at her as Tad stalked off. “Actually, miss, Molly isn’t that old, and she’s a good ride.” He doffed his hat. “I’m Thomas.”

  “Nice to meet you, Thomas. Call me Birdie.

  Bethany led a good-looking chestnut mare, already saddled, from a stall. She stopped beside her. “Molly’s a sweetheart, Birdie. I used to ride her all the time until Tad bought Blondie for me.”

  Blondie? What a modern name for this time period, but the animal did have a beautiful blond mane and tail. “Molly will be fine.” To be honest, Birdie wasn’t that experienced a rider so gentle was good. Old was good, too, as she wanted to take this relatively new experience slow. They were leading the horses from the barn when Detective Ethan and Mr. King rode into the yard. Both looked comfortable in the saddle. She supposed the buggy they’d arrived at the hospital in was for town transportation only. They dismounted and approached. Tad must have seen them coming up the road as he rode in not far behind them. He sat his horse like a natural, the epitome of what Birdie supposed a real cowboy should look. She snorted. What did she know about them anyway?

  Tad dismounted and shook hands with the men. They chatted and glanced in her direction before striding toward her.

  “Miss Braxton,” called General King.

  “General.”

  “Are you ready to demonstrate your shooting ability?”

  All right! She wanted her star back. “I am.”

  “Good, good. Mr. Lockhart will guide us to a place where we can safely test your skill.”

  Detective Ethan joined them and handed her a package.

  “What’s this?”

  “Your holster. Picked it up yesterday.”

  Birdie ripped open the brown paper and fingered the soft leather. “It’s as good as new. Thank you, Detective. I’ll repay you as soon as I get some money.”

  “No need, Miss Braxton. It’s a get-well gift.”

  “Why…thank you. That’s very sweet of you.”

  Color rose in his face. “You’re welcome.”

  Tad coughed and covered his smirk. “Are we ready to go?”

  Birdie narrowed her eyes and shot him a glare. Impudent man. Detective Ethan’s gesture was sincere, and she appreciated having her holster back. And he wasn’t sweet on her, was he? She hoped not.

  She patted her pocket. “I have my Ruger, but I don’t plan to spend all my rounds. I don’t think .380s will be invented until around 1908.”

  General King’s mouth twisted as if biting his lip. “Well, I can’t say I blame you there.”

  She couldn’t resist a grin. “I will let each one of you fire a round though, as I know you’re curious as all get-out.”

  “Yes, indeed,” blurted Ethan.

  Tad shrugged. She’d forgotten he’d not seen her Ruger. “Let’s get this done. I’ve got work to do.”

  Bethany had hung back and watched the exchange, until now. “Can I come along, Tad?”

  He studied her a minute. “I guess so, but stay out of the way and be quiet.”

  They mounted their horses, and Tad led them east, away from the house, barns, and cattle. They rode past fields of maize, feed for their animals she supposed. Barbed wired kept them at bay. Occasionally, an oak tree stood among the crops spreading its shade under its branches. The terrain looked much like the fields in her time, but lacked all the modern additions—paved roads, tractors and other farm implements, and the so-called ranch houses.

  Tad turned north and led them toward a creek backed by a tall dirt bluff. Mesquite trees dotted the banks covered with grasses among the sandy soil. They dismounted downstream and tethered their horses where they could graze and drink yet be away from the gunfire.

  The men removed rifles from scabbards. Detective Ethan, out of uniform today, wore a gun belt as did General King. Birdie knew it wasn’t legal to wear guns openly on the streets of Waco, but many people concealed them in pockets.

  Tad lifted his from his saddlebag and strapped it on. He handed Birdie his rifle. “It’s loaded. Can you handle one of these?”

  Birdie examined the Winchester carbine and looked down the site. “Yes, I think so if I can have a few practice shots. Is this a 76 model?”

  Tad’s brows rose in question. “Yes. How’d you know?”

  “It resembles the ones issued to the Texas Rangers in the 1880s.”

  “Have you ever fired one?” asked King.

  “No, but it doesn’t look hard.” She glanced across the creek and located a target approximately twenty-five yards away. “I’m aiming for the top paddle of that prickly pear directly ahead.” She cocked the rifle, took aim, and fired. Bits of cactus flew. She’d hit it dead on. She engaged the lever to release the spent shell and ready the carbine for her next shot. Her ears rang, and she wished for plugs or headgear.

  King stood at her side. “Need any more practice shots?”

  “Nope. Let’s do this. I want my star back.”

  “All right young lady. See that empty bird nest on an upper branch in the mesquite tree just to your right?”

  She located the target. “Got it.” It was farther away, but still within her range of abilities, she hoped. Be just her luck to not be able to hit a barn with this audience. She took aim, took a breath, and fired. The nest exploded, scattering tiny sticks and cast-off feathers. She breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Very good, Miss Braxton. Now, see that dead oak above the bank over there? Take off that small branch that’s broken.”

  The rifle was heavy, reminding her she’d recently been sick, but no way would she let on she was feeling the effects. Thank goodness for the hat Olivia had insisted she buy as it protected her vision from the sun. Her blouse, now damp, clung to her back. She drew in several deep breaths and raised the rifle, took aim, and fired. Nothing happened. The branch remained intact. Well darn, she’d missed. Then, suddenly, it dropped.

  “Good job, Birdie.” Tad patted her on the back. “I bet that was sixty yards.”

  “Thanks.” She glanced at King. “Aren’t you going to shoot? I thought this was a contest.”

  He scratched his chin as he studied her. “Let’s see what you can do with that little gun of yours first.”

  Tad took the Winchester and returned it to its scabbard.

  She pulled the Ruger fr
om her pocket. Tad rejoined them and looked down as she clicked the button to release the magazine. “What in tarnation is that?”

  “It’s a semi-automatic pistol that shoots .380s, a shell that hasn’t been developed yet.” She removed the bullet from the chamber and dropped it in his hand. He examined it closely before offering it to King.

  King shook his head. “Ethan and I’ve seen it. Odd, ain’t it?”

  “Sure is.”

  Birdie continued her instruction for Tad’s benefit. “This is the perfect size gun for concealment. People with a license to carry a concealed weapon, undercover officers, or officers who are off duty can easily carry this, and no one will know. You’ve seen my leg holster. I carry this when I wear dresses. If I’m wearing pants, I conceal it in some other way.”

  The three men exchanged glances. Evidently they didn’t know what to make of what she was saying. She didn’t blame them. It was unfamiliar idea for them.

  “This magazine holds six shells though you can buy an extended one to carry more. I always carry an extra loaded magazine in my purse when I carry the Ruger.” She grinned at King. “When I’m on duty and in uniform, I don’t carry a purse as I wear a nine millimeter on my hip, a concealed .38 just above my ankle, and I have a number of other weapons in the trunk of my car.”

  Tad threw up his hands. “Just show us how this little toy works.”

  Birdie held up the magazine. “This is loaded with six rounds.” She popped it into the butt of the Ruger. “You slide the chamber back to cock it. The Ruger is called a semi-automatic because now I can fire all six rounds without cocking it again.”

  She turned and found her target—the prickly pear again. “I’m going to aim for the next paddle down on the prickly pear.” She fired. The bullet caught the outer edge. Not in the center where she’d aimed, but not too bad. “Who wants to go next?”

  “I’m next,” barked King. He aimed for the cactus and missed by a hair. “Little gun has a kick to it.”

  After Ethan and Tad fired, Bethany approached. “Can I shoot it once, Birdie?”

  Birdie looked to Tad for approval. He shrugged.

  Birdie asked. “Have you been taught about gun safety?”