Catch a Shooting Star jd edit 03 12 2012 html (31 page)

BOOK: Catch a Shooting Star jd edit 03 12 2012 html
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Savannah noticed his tense composure and sudden silence so she questioned him about it.  She followed his gaze in the direction in which he was nodding and she drew in a breath of apprehension and asked, “Do you think it could be some of Diego’s men?”

He shrugged and replied, “I can’t tell yet.  They’re not moving very fast.  It’s likely they haven’t spotted us yet.  But what worries me is that they changed directions when we did.”

“It could be a coincidence,” Savannah interjected.

“Could be,” Travis mused, still staring to his left.  “But it could be a scouting party, making sure nobody intrudes on his operation.”

Savannah watched the dust cloud and her hatred toward Diego grew anew.  She knew that if this were a scouting party, she and Travis would be captured and probably killed before they had a chance to realize their revenge on her husband and she would never see her precious son again.

They spurred their mounts into a trot, testing the cloud that billowed to the east of them.  When the cloud did not rise higher, indicating that the riders that caused it were not interested in keeping up with them.  In fact, after a few hours, the dust began to settle behind them, leaving only a trail that the riders behind them would probably cross later in the day.

With apprehension gone, Travis settled back into a relaxed position on his stallion and broke off a piece of jerky, the remainder of which, he handed to Savannah.  She took it realizing that whether the people behind them were after them or not, her companion was going to push her onward in order to put as much space between them and that curious cloud of dust as possible.

They kept silent most of the rest of the day’s journey.  But as evening was drawing near, they began to recapture an earlier discussion which, to Savannah, was a needle in the eye of her strategy, for a vengeance that she believed was hers to revel in seemed to be slipping from her grasp.  The conversation had drifted to the plan that Travis had conjured up which involved Savannah distancing herself from the confrontation with her husband while she would go to kidnap her son. 

Keeping her from harm, he had decided that she would be more suited to sneak to the tiny house where the child would be.  And since she knew where the house was, she would be able to sneak in and then take the boy to the stables near Diego’s hacienda where both of them would be safe.  And while she was procuring her son, Travis would be confronting El Diablo and any men who dared to defend him. 

Trepidation filled Savannah at the thought of him facing that devil of a man and the army of men that would certainly be present.  Knowing that it would be an impossible task for him, and fearing that he would be hurt or killed in the process, she tried to convince him that she could be of some use to him in the fight.  With bold confidence, she offered, “If I were to go with you, there would be a better chance that we could kill him and maybe some of his men before they had a chance to kill us.  With two firing at them, we could accomplish what we came here for.  And then we could go and get my son.”

“I’m not so sure I want to kill him,” Travis said, to the ire of Savannah, who opened her mouth to protest but was waved away with an explanation, “I want him to stand trial, so that the other people that he hurt would have a chance to have vengeance on him too.”

“Well, I want him dead,” she blurted out as she glared at him.  “And I deserve to kill him for all he put me through.  I say we capture him and then take him out to the desert to die just like he did to me.”

Travis scowled and dismounted his horse to look up at her as he asked accusingly, “Will you listen to yourself?  Are you so vindictive, so spiteful that you want to take his life all by yourself?  Don’t you think that someone else who has been hurt by him would want a piece of the action?”

Savannah threw her leg over the saddle horn and slipped into his outstretched arms, relenting, “I suppose not.  But I still think that you need my help.”

“I don’t think so.  I can handle whatever happens.”

“Can you handle dying?” she spat before wheeling around so that she could wipe a tear from her face.

“Yes.  When I signed up for the Rangers, I vowed to lay down my life for my country.  I vowed to protect the State of Texas and the people who live there.  And if it means risking my life, or losing it, I will.”

“And what will it get you?  You’ll die and they’ll bury you and then they’ll forget you and what you did for them.  What kind of honor will you find in being nothing more than a forgotten grave?” The tears flowed unchecked now, but she continued, “What did this country or the State of Texas, do for you?  I’ll tell you what it did for me!  The war that split this country in two took my mother and eventually, my brother. 

“And, this country did nothing but bring misery for my father.  He believed in the South and he sank all of his money into it hoping that it would continue to be its own entity.  Then when we lost the war, what did the fine people of our newly reunited country do to him?  They taxed him blind.  They took what was left of his money and when he died, I was left with nothing but a cruel husband who carted me off to this Godforsaken country and forced me to live like a caged bird.  Then he took my son and left me to die here in this very desert.  That’s what your glorious country did for me.  And that’s why I will not give my life, my soul, for something that I don’t believe will ever give me back what it has taken from me.”

While she took a deep breath, Travis leaned down and took her shoulders into his hands so that his words could be stressed in the compelling statement that was to come, “Freedom.  That’s what I have and that’s what I fight for every day of my life and that’s what those countless soldiers fought for and will continue to fight for, so that I can live free and so that you can live free, and whether you believe it or not, they are remembered.  Sure, we may not know them by name and we may not have been touched by the ultimate sacrifice that they may have endured.  But every day that we take another breath of precious free air, they will be remembered.  And, in return for their sacrifice, I vow to do the same for any who will live free because of me.  If one person is free from the pain that I have suffered, it will be worth it.  My job will be done and I can go to Heaven—or Hell—knowing that I did my best to ensure the safety of my country and all who live there—in freedom.”

“Damn you and your damn patriotism!” she shouted, her fists balled at her sides. “Go on and get yourself killed.  And don’t be preaching to me about it because you can’t tell me that when you’re lying there bleeding to death that you won’t wish that you were going to live—to be somewhere else, to have all the things that you put aside in order to protect your precious country.  So you just go on and try to take Diego to his trial and watch all your “free” countrymen decide whether he should live or die.  But you’d better say your prayers now because he won’t give you a chance to when he’s blasting bullets into you.”

Savannah wriggled from his grasp and stomped away into the coming darkness.  She was angry at him and afraid that he would go through with his plan.  She was mostly afraid of losing him to the man that she hated so much.  Yet she knew that Travis would carry out his plan whether she liked it or not and that he would probably die doing it.  And that’s what hurt her the most.  Just when she had let her guard down and tore down the wall around her heart, he crushes it with his ever-loving patriotic duty.  Once again, she would lose a man that she loved and she would be left alone.  Not even the realization that she would have her son back seemed like justified consolation for her impending loss.

She stopped her aimless walking and hunched down on a rock and cried, her head buried in her hands.  And there she sat, spilling her sorrow until the pain turned back to anger at herself.  Why was she sitting there feeling sorry for herself when she could be back at camp savoring the time that she had with him?  With that thought, she rose to her feet and started toward the man that she had grown to love and with that revelation, she vowed to change his mind about his dreadful vow by morning.  With a determined smile, she headed for the flickering glow of the campfire ahead.

But as she neared camp, she heard a noise behind her and her heart lurched into her throat.  She could see Travis sitting beside the fire and she realized that she was alone and being stalked by some unknown predator.  She looked around but the darkness would not reveal the identity of her assailant.  She gasped as another noise startled her.  Then with a quick lift of her skirt, she began to run toward the safety of camp and Travis’s comforting arms.

But, try as she might, her feet would not take her closer to her sanctuary.  Something had hold of her skirt!  She tried desperately to scream for help, but a large hand clamped over her mouth and an arm locked around her waist, rendering her helpless and silent.  She kicked and struggled against the sinewy chest of her assailant.  She screamed against the hand but her warning went unnoticed by Travis, who poured a cup of coffee while he sat near the fire.

Despite the thrashing of her boots against the giant’s shins, he trudged onward, toward the yellow light of the fire.  When they were just at the edge of its glow, the giant stopped and took his hand from Savannah’s mouth.  Instantly, she screamed at Travis, who snapped his head up and scrambled to his feet, dropping the tin cup into the fire in his haste to rescue her.

The only sound that could be heard at that moment was the sizzling of the coffee on the red-hot coals.

Then, the giant growled as he clamped his hand back over Savannah’s mouth, “Don’t move.”

Travis froze, his arms held away from the matching set of pistols at his sides.  He narrowed his eyes against the smoke and darkness that hid the intruder’s face from view.

“Don’t try anything foolish now,” the stranger ordered.  “Just pull those guns out real nice and slow and drop them on the ground.”

Travis swore under his breath for he knew that he’d been defeated.  A man’s intentions can’t be read if his face can’t be seen, so he couldn’t tell if this big man was out to get him or if he just wanted a piece of the woman that he had captured and Travis was hindering that.  He shook his head and swore again as he lifted the pistols out by the butt and dropped them at his feet.

“Well now, I’m glad to see you cooperate,” the gruff voice behind Savannah growled.  “Now I want you to reach down and pull that knife out of your boot.”

Travis started to bend down, but then asked himself how this man knew about the knife that he had tucked in his boot.  He did as he was told, still wondering who this man could be.

The stranger continued to speak, revealing little known awareness of Travis’ habits, “You know, the one with the carved antler handle that I gave you seven years ago?”

Travis’s back stiffened and his head popped up to see the man release Savannah and then step into the firelight.  Squinting, Travis cocked his head and asked the stranger, “Tito?  Is that you?”

When the stranger did not answer but stepped toward him with arms outstretched, Travis exclaimed, “You old dusty buzzard!  What the Hell do you think you’re doing scaring the fire out of me like that?”

Tito stepped around Savannah, who stood dumbfounded where he’d let her drop.  Then he went to take Travis into his open arms for a bear hug that lasted only seconds before they parted and shook hands in a manly manner.  He laughed gruffly and slapped Travis on the shoulder before he said, “I wanted to see you squirm, you skinny spitfire.  You done enough to get me shakin’ the last time I saw you, so I figured I’d return the favor.”

“Well, you did a damn good job of it Tito.  I can’t remember when I’ve been stupid enough to be taken by surprise like that.  When did you get here?”

Tito scraped the dust with his boot and stared at the circular line that he created on the ground while he replied, “I’ve been on your trail for some time now.  Had you fooled, didn’t I?  You thought I’d skirted around and away from you didn’t you?”

“The thought had crossed my mind,” Travis admitted, remembering the cloud of dust that they had watched for some time.

Tito looked from his friend to Savannah and asked, “This the new wife?”

“Not on your life,” Savannah spat without thinking how malicious she must have sounded and then she continued with brazen accusation, her eyes fixed on Travis, “I wouldn’t marry a man that cared only for his country.  Why, I’d feel sorry for the woman who would end up with him.  She’d be worried all the time wondering if he’d come back dead or alive, or even if he did come back at all.  No, Tito, Mr. Corbett is only escorting me to Casa de Flores so that I can—we can—make sure that my husband is punished for what he did to me and to his poor wife and to get my son.”

“Casa de Flores,” Tito repeated, massaging his bewhiskered chin with his forefinger and thumb.  “Damn, Travis, ain’t that where El Diablo lives?  Ain’t that the man that we are after?”

Travis nodded, shooting a glance at Savannah, who had cooled down a bit, but still looked irritated about his patriotic duty.  He bent over and picked up both revolvers, checked the load and then, while still staring at Savannah to watch her expression, he said, “Yep.  That’s the one.” Then he blew the dust from the barrels before he asked of his friend, “Are you ready to risk your life to bring him to justice, to bring freedom to your country?”

When she turned away from him in a huff, Travis chuckled and replaced one pistol into its holster at his side, repeating the motion with its twin as he listened to Tito’s answer.

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