Two Texas Hearts

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WINTER MCQUILLEN PLANTED HIS BOOTS FARTHER apart and adjusted the brim of his worn gray Stetson against the glare of the late afternoon sun. He stared down into the six-foot hole, dry-eyed and angry.

‘‘Lower the coffin,’’ he ordered, feeling the words tighten in his throat. ‘‘Let’s put the captain to rest before sundown.’’

‘‘Yes, Boss,’’ Logan Baker mumbled, around a wad of tobacco.

Winter didn’t move as several of his ranch hands followed his instructions. Then, hesitantly, each stepped away, allowing their boss room to say goodbye to Captain Russell for the last time.

Only Logan remained within the boundary of the small wrought-iron fenced cemetery with Winter. ‘‘He was like a father to you, Win,’’ Logan said. ‘‘We’ll all miss the old man, but he’s where he’d want to be, next to his Miss Allie.’’

Winter realized Logan hadn’t used the shortened version of his first name in more than a year. He’d been Winter as a boy, but as his height passed six feet, his name had been shortened to Win. Last year, when the captain’s health began to fail, Win had taken the reins of one of the biggest ranches in Texas without anyone saying a word. Logan, the oldest hand, had stood by his side and began calling him simply ‘‘Boss.’’ Everyone in Armstrong County knew the ranch would be Winter’s when the captain passed on. Everyone but Captain Russell, it seemed.

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