The Red River Ring by Randy D. Smith

“Yes.”
    Temple saw the defiance and anger in her. He decided that nothing else could be said without causing more heartache. They stared at each other in silence.
    â€œTemple’s right about one thing for sure. We need a plan,” Blomberg said uncomfortably.
    Temple nodded. “We need to find him and bring him in. Then we can plan.”
    â€œHe could be a valuable asset. Your father has experience in such matters,” Blomberg said.
    â€œThis isn’t his fight. He walked away from all of us years ago. I don’t care how much experience he’s got. He shouldn’t have been brought into this,” Temple said as he walked back to the window.
    â€œI think he owes it to you,” she said angrily. “If I were a man, I would.”
    â€œYou might have asked,” Temple said.
    â€œI would have had to tell Reese and Pac the truth.”
    â€œIt was your decision to tell them that he was dead. How do you think you could get around it without telling them?”
    â€œNo one else needs to know. That’s why we’re talking to you.”
    Temple stared out the window for a few moments then leaned against the table beneath it. “I’m tired, Mom. I’m tired of fighting the Ring. I’m tired of the responsibility of managing everyone’s life. I’m tired of trying to make a man of Pac and I’m tired of hiding the truth from Reese.”
    â€œWe know you’re tired,” Blomberg said quietly. “That’s why she sent for your father.”
    She fought off tears and tried to control the sadness in her voice. “You have always been the strong one, Temple. I know I’ve asked more of you than I should have. I asked you to help raise your brothers, run a ranch and help me manage my life. I knew I was asking a lot when you were just a boy and I know how I’ve burdened you as a man. Now I’m trying to get you some help. I had nowhere else to turn. No one I could really trust.”
    Temple smiled and nodded. “No one you could trust.”
    â€œNot with my blood. All that matters is saving my sons.”
    â€œAnd he came. Without questioning any of this, he came.”
    â€œYes. It’s the kind of thing that he’s really good at. He’s always been a violent man and he’s always loved it.”
    â€œYou think that’s all it is? His love of a good fight?”
    â€œYes.”
    Temple straightened himself and turned to face them. “I think you’ve sold him short. I don’t think you ever understood how he thought or what he stood for.”
    â€œBecause I’m a woman? Is that what you mean?”
    â€œI don’t think you’ve ever understood me either. He was never gone. He’s always been here in one way or another. I remember how it was before he went to war.”
    â€œYou deceive yourself, Temple. You only remember what’s convenient,” she said coldly.
    He smiled, looked at Bloomberg in frustration, and nodded. “Yes, Mom. Whatever you say.”
    There were few words when they left. He turned away from her after helping her into the buggy. There was no goodbye kiss, no parting wave. When they were gone, he went to the corrals and saddled his blue roan. He would need his best horse.

Chapter VII
    Pommel drew his camp blanket close to his shoulders and poured himself another cup of coffee from the small pot next to the campfire. He drew his revolver and rested it on his leg as he squatted by the fire. Whoever was out there beyond the campfire light was not trying to put the sneak on him but he couldn’t be sure of the intent.
    â€œHello to camp,” the voice called.
    â€œHello,” Pommel said as he cocked the Remington’s hammer.
    â€œCan I share your fire?”
    â€œBring your cup. I’ll pour some coffee.”
    A tall man stepped into the light. He wore typical Texas cowboy duds, a tall hat and stovepipe leggings. A Colt revolver