Happy Independence Day Texas!

A friend let me know what day it was, so I had to whip this up for a state I have fond memories of. (However, it is unedited and I am dyslexic. Please be kind.)

This story is for San Antonio Rose, my good friend, and dedicated to the late great Robert Conrad for giving me a character to base the story around.

Disclaimer: I own nothing you can recognize.

Enjoy ...

James West sagged against his bonds, his broken ribs protesting the movement while his legs tried to maintain their support. It was strange to think that this is where it would end, on a cow trail in Texas. He and Artie had received information that an Easterner was using a cattle drive to get close to the Governor. Washington had learned that Nathan Hanson had personal information that could hurt the Texan Governor and was planning to blackmail him. The intel was good, except the whereabouts of Hanson and his men. The agents had walked straight into an ambush. Artie has been hit, who knew if he was even still alive, and Jim had been captured. He might be able to face death better if he knew he was facing it alone.

If only he knew Artie had made it.

"Feeling tired, Mr. West?" his current host mocked, grabbing a handful of his hair to lift his head.

"Just resting my eyes," Jim replied, forcing a smile.

"Well, we wouldn't want you to slip away too soon," Hanson said, his New Yorker accent strong. "You'll miss my triumph."

"You haven't won yet," Jim countered.

"Haven't I? Tomorrow I'll walk into the capital and have a talk with the Governor. He'll have no choice but to do what I say and by this time tomorrow I'll be running Texas. The best part is, no one will ever know."

"Washington will know."

"Washington?" Hanson threw his head back and laughed. "They won't cause any trouble, not unless they want another war. Your partner is dead and soon you will be too. There is no one left to stop me."

No sooner had he spoken those words than the area erupted in gunfire. Dozens of men on horseback thundered through the camp, shooting anyone with a gun. Spooked cattle stampeded into the night, their bellows fading with the final shot. The only two left standing were Hanson himself and Jim, although that was mostly due to the tree he was secured to.

"What's this!" Hanson shouted. "You've made a big mistake here!"

"No," one of the riders replied in a heavy Texas drawl, "you did."

While Jim appreciated the intervention of the riders, he was confused as to what exactly was going on. That is, until a horse came up carrying two men. One was obviously a cowboy fresh off the dusty trail and the other was a sight for sore eyes.

"Jim!" Artie called out, awkwardly dismounting. "You're alive!"

"So are you," Jim said with a genuine smile. "I saw you get hit."

"Yeah," Arit muttered, motioning to a crude sling holding his left arm. "Luckily, this fellow came along and got me some help."

"Glad to hear it," he commented, also glad for whoever had just untied him and kept him from hitting the ground. "I could use some of that myself."

"This- This is impossible!" Hanson sputtered. "No one knew what I was doing. How-"

"You forgot one very important detail, Mr. Hanson," Artie replied. "A lot of Texans ride the Chisholm trail and they don't like people interfering with their state."

Artie helped Jim to a place where he could sit down comfortably while one of the cowboys went to get the medic for his drive. It turned out that Artie had not only been picked up by a legitimate cattle drive, but that three had been close enough to offer up riders to help protect their state.

"You would think after the Alamo, people would have learned," Artie commented, offering his partner some water.

"Yeah," Jim agreed. "Never mess with Texas."

What did you think?

Comments and suggestions are always welcome. Until next time. :)