Page 32 of Ransom
Hundreds of people were all looking at our table, at me, at Winston with his ridiculous milkshake still in front of him. Don't move. Don't move and don't say a damn word.
"That's right, folks!" Rex walked toward our table, boots crunching in the arena dirt, the spotlight following him. "We got Rafe's boy here! All the way from Pae Saco Ranch!" He stopped at the edge of the arena, maybe ten feet from where I sat frozen. "Stand up, son. Let these good people see you."
I didn't move.
Rex's smile stayed locked in place, but he went hard behind it. "Come on now. Don't be shy."
The crowd started clapping, like this was all part of the show and not some bullshit intimidation tactic.
Winston's thumb stroked once, slowly, along the inseam of my jeans. The message was not subtle. Stand up. I've got you.
I stood up. My legs were a couple of fence posts somebody had tied jeans to. The blood in my face had decided to set up a permanent residence there, and Cassidy's rhinestones strobed at me from across the room because I had nowhere else for my eyes to go.
Stand there. Just stand there. Don't think about how many of these people will remember your face when this is over. Stand there.
"There he is!" Rex spread his arms wide, presenting me to the crowd like I was a prize bull at auction. "One of the finest cowboys in New Mexico, ladies and gentlemen. Works for Rafe Lujan out at Pae Saco. Good people doing good work." He turned that smile on me, all teeth. "Why don't you tell everybody who you are, son?"
"Ransom," I said. At least my voice held steady.
"RANSOM!" Rex repeated it loud enough for the back row. "Now that's an outlaw name if I ever heard one! You folks give Ransom a hand!"
They clapped. They whistled. A kid somewhere yelled, "YEAH RANSOM!"
I stood there and took it, my face hot, my hands in fists at my sides. Every camera in every cellphone in that crowd was on me. I felt them like I felt the rifle on my back when I was working a ridge. Hundreds of eyes and at least half as many lenses, and Rex up there grinning like he'd just been handed a Christmas present he hadn't asked for and intended to enjoy.
Rex turned to Winston. "And who's this you brought with you?"
Winston stood up smooth as anything, like he got called out at dinner theaters every day of his life. "Winston Valverde. Texas Rangers at your service." He tipped his hat, and a woman in the front row nearly fainted.
"A Texas Ranger!" Rex said, loud and bright, selling it to the crowd. "Well now, that's an honor. We love our law enforcement here at Bonney Ranch. Keep us all safe and honest." He winked at the crowd, and they laughed, uncertain. "You boys here on business or pleasure?"
"Both," Winston said before I could answer. He smiled at Rex like they were old friends. "The Billy Burrito was legendary. Had to see for ourselves."
Rex narrowed his eyes just a fraction. Then his smile got wider.
"Well, any friend of Rafe's is a friend of mine," he said. "And any Ranger who appreciates good food is welcome at my table." He turned to the crowd. "What do you say, folks? Should we comp their meal tonight?"
The crowd cheered.
"That's what I thought!" Rex clapped his hands together. "Billy! Get these boys the full Outlaw Experience! Burgers, fries, the works! On the house!"
Billy the server appeared at our table so fast he must have been lurking. "Yes, sir, Mr. Rawlins!"
"You enjoy the show now," Rex said. "And when it's over, you boys come find me. I'd love to catch up. Talk about Rafe, talk about the ranch. Talk about what brings a Texas Ranger all the way out to Truth or Consequences." He paused. "We got so much to discuss."
"Looking forward to it," Winston said.
Rex tipped his hat to us, then to the crowd. "ENJOY THE SHOW, FOLKS!"
The music kicked back in and the lights shifted. Rex walked back to the center of the arena and launched into the next bit, some story about Billy's first bank robbery, told with dramatic flair and sound effects.
I sat down hard.
My hands were shaking. I put them under the table where Winston couldn't see them.
Winston sat down across from me and picked up his milkshake like nothing had happened. "Well," he said quietly, just for me. "That was interesting."
Do all Texas Rangers have a screw loose, or is it specifically him?
