Catch a Shooting Star jd edit 03 12 2012 html (38 page)

“I know about that,” Travis admitted, remembering the conversation that he’d heard between El Diablo and one of his men that night on the plantation when Travis had stayed to watch over her.  “But I didn’t know about the treasure.  I’m sure that Savannah will be glad to hear that she’s not as poor as she thought she was.”

“That, I’m sure, will make her very happy,” Tito agreed.  “Now, take these to her and take that murderer back to trial and have a happy life.”

“Just like that?” Travis asked, wondering if Tito had some other hidden agenda up his sleeve.

“Just like that,” Tito answered with a smile.  “You get the devil and the angel and I get my life back.  That’s all I really wanted, having Fernandez pay for what his father did to mine is just a sprinkle of sugar on my cookie.”

“So, what are you going to do?” Travis asked.

“I’m going to enjoy my home again,” he said matter-of-factly.

“What about the operation?”

“Operation?”

“The opium, the money that was stolen, that operation,” Travis said.

“That will all be turned over to the authorities, including several million dollars and, of course anything that was purchased with ill-gotten gains,” Tito explained to his friend, who seemed to be satisfied with the answer.

“That is very commendable of you,” Travis said with a nod.  “And congratulations on getting your home back.”

“It is all thanks to you,” Tito said with a warm smile.  “And Savannah, of course.”

“You had a hundred men on your side,” Travis argued, remembering the streets that were riddled with the bodies of Diego’s men.

“Well, I suppose they helped too,” Tito said with a chuckle.

“Then I guess we all got what we wanted,” Travis said as he picked up the papers and turned to leave.

“I suppose you are right, my son,” Tito said as he stood and offered his hand to his friend.  “You take care now and make sure that bastard pays for all of his crimes.”

“I will, and thanks…for handing over these papers.  I’m sure Savannah will be happy to see them.”

“Oh, she will be,” Tito said with a smile.  “And I hope that both of you will be happy…together.”

Chapter Twenty

Savannah looked down at the sleeping form of her beloved son.  He swayed in her arms with the rocking of the saddle as the horse beneath them plodded onward.  A reverent kiss was placed ever so gently upon the small head which reflected the brightness of the moon with a blue-black hue.  She longed to squeeze the tiny shoulders that she held erect with her arms, aching to bestow a loving embrace on the sleeping child.  But she restrained her urges and consented to hold him against the softness of her breasts. 

They had been traveling by cover of darkness in an attempt to gain distance between them and Casa de Flores.  They had been amazed that they had not been noticed as they emerged from the stables, a train of five horses.  Travis had led the pack, followed by the then-unconscious Diego, then Savannah who had both pack horses tied to her saddle horn.  They traveled with the silver half-moon over their shoulders and had done so until it crossed to their right, only to slip behind a flurry of nocturnal clouds.  Then they had stopped for a two hour rest before remounting and continuing northward toward the border.

Now, Benito slept in the safety of his mother’s arms rocked by the gentle sway of the Appaloosa beneath her.  With a sigh, he snuggled deeper into her breasts, mumbling contentedly. 

Savannah smoothed the straight black hair that fell just above his eyebrows then kissed his head once more.  She laid a cheek upon the spot where she had kissed and opened her eyes to find that Diego was watching her, his face filled with anger.  A stroke of fear shot through her, sending her heart into panicked rage.  Those dark eyes glistened with hatred that knew no bounds, a contempt that would never die, even when he was dead and buried, and that knowledge would live forever in her mind.  With that hardened glare, he had seen to it that she would remember his fierce animosity for the rest of her life. 

She forced herself not to shudder but to blink once as if his cold, hateful stare had not bothered her in the least, and then she turned her head away, resting the other cheek on her son’s head.  Even as she looked to the other side, staring off at the darkness of the night, she could feel his black eyes upon her, boring relentlessly into her very soul. 

Then, as if he could feel the tension between them, Travis slowed his horse so that he was beside her, blocking Diego’s view of her.  When she turned back to face him, he smiled reassuringly at her and she smiled back at him with thankfulness glistening in her violet eyes. 

They rode on in silence, traveling through the night, past dawn and into the early afternoon.  Only when the sun stretched its angry arms onto the boiling desert floor did Travis allow the party to halt for a rest.  Then, onward they rode, marking the days with the few times that they paused to steal a few hours of sleep. 

Days melted into a week and then two before Travis finally decided to rest the horses for the night and he pulled up on the reins to ease the Palomino to a standstill.  He would allow the party to rest this once because he wanted everyone refreshed and ready to push forward.  They were four days from the border and he wanted to make it in two.  He wanted to get his prisoner back to Texas before Diego’s men caught up to them, if any of them still existed after Tito and his men cleaned up the town.

They tethered the horses and while Travis helped Diego to dismount, Savannah fished in the bundles atop one of the pack horses for a quick meal.  She carried the jerky and tortillas to a flat rock and laid them on a cloth which she had pulled from the bundle.  She offered the meal to her son, who ate hungrily as he sat beside her.

Occasionally, the little boy would sneak a glance at his father, who sat on the ground with his feet and hands bound with ropes.  A puzzled look crossed the boy’s face but he would shrug off the confusion in favor of filling his empty belly. 

Travis handed a tortilla rolled around a piece of jerky to his prisoner and sat in front of him while Diego put the food to his mouth, encumbered by the tightly knotted rope around his wrists.  A parlay of shrewd, unspoken indignation passed between the two men as they sat facing one another, each refusing to be stared down.  Finally, Diego belched profusely and threw the rest of the food over his shoulder as if the meal that he had been offered was not fit for him.  With a sniff, he narrowed his eyes and grumbled, “Am I not allowed to wash down the acrid taste of that offensive leather that you call meat?”

Without a word, Travis rose to his feet and walked to retrieve a canteen and a tin cup.  Filling the cup only halfway, he recapped the canteen and returned to Diego.  As he had predicted in his mind, the Mexican snorted a protest at the ration of water that he was handed. But with a sneer, the man emptied the cup and licked his lips.  Then as he had done with the jerky, he tossed the cup over his shoulder and looked daringly at Travis, who stood above him with his hands on his hips.

Inside, Travis fumed at this man’s arrogance, but outwardly, he smiled coolly and stepped over the man’s legs, catching his boot on the knee that Diego raised in order to trip him.  Diego was taken by surprise when Travis anticipated his move and lifted his boot higher and then reeled around to drop his knees on Diego’s legs, causing the prisoner to double over in pain.  Then, as if nothing had happened, Travis got to his feet and retrieved the tin cup and the piece of jerky that lay in the dirt next to it.

With purpose, Travis strode back to Diego and hunched on his heels as he put the jerky up to the Mexican’s mouth, demanding, “Open your mouth.”  When Diego did not respond, he repeated with more force, “Open your mouth!”

Still, Diego ignored his assailant, staring in the distance as if Travis did not exist.  Travis snatched his hand to the man’s head, grasping a wad of hair in his fist, and jerked it back, growling, “Open your Got Damn mouth!”

When Diego clamped his mouth closed, Travis pulled harder on the hair at the nape of the man’s neck and shoved the jerky into his mouth with lightning speed when Diego cried out in pain.  Satisfied that he had succeeded in dominating the arrogant man, Travis nodded and said, “Enjoy it Fernandez.  It may be your last meal.”

Diego cut a hateful look at Travis before he resigned to chew the jerky.  He winced at the sound of sand grinding on his teeth, but he swallowed the gritty mouthful with a labored gulp.  Only then did Travis let go of the man’s head, and in doing so, he pitched it forward with such force that the Mexican almost fell headfirst into the dirt.  With a mumbled curse, Travis stomped around Diego and strode out as far as he dared so that he could vent his anger on a wiry creosote tree.

Savannah watched in amazed horror at the way Travis handled his prisoner.  Never before had she seen him so angry, so vengeful.  She shuddered when he snapped Diego’s head back almost breaking the man’s neck.  She was not afraid for her husband.  She would certainly revel in the event if he was to die.  Her fear was for the sanity of the man that she loved.  She watched him stomp away and wondered if she should go to him to try to calm him down.  Deciding that it would be better for all of them if she left him to work it out for himself, she remained seated on the rock, hugging her son.  She didn’t need Travis mad at her too. 

She removed Benito from her lap and sat him on the rock, kissing his head and asking him to stay put.  She kept herself busy with cleaning up after the meal, keeping an eye on Travis, who struck violently at the defenseless tree with a stick.  Preoccupied with his tirade, she failed to see her son slowly walk toward his father.

Diego seized the moment that his wife was distracted to coax the boy to continue to his side, talking softly to him.  Benito stood beside his father and stared at the ropes while Diego whispered into his ear.  Nodding, the boy left his father’s side and went to the rock where Savannah had left to repack the food onto the horse.  He picked up the knife and turned back to Diego, carrying it proudly toward the man who pompously encouraged him to bring it to him.

When Savannah turned to retrieve the knife, she saw that it was now in the hands of her husband, who had cut through the ropes and stood with her son in his arms, the knife against the his son’s neck.  Seeing the frightened look on Benito’s tiny face, she did not think to call Travis to help.  Instead, she drew her pistol and aimed it at her husband’s head, growling, “You let my son go!”

“Drop your gun and I’ll let him go,” Diego argued, adjusting the child in his arms so that Benito’s head shielded his.

“You know I won’t do that, Diego,” she said with a determined look, shifting her feet so that her aim was true again.

“You wouldn’t shoot me and risk hitting the boy,” Diego argued.

“Put him down you coward!” she seethed, stepping closer to him.  As she neared her husband, she shook the pistol at him, repeating, “Put Benjamin down!”

At that moment, she was only a few feet away from him, so Diego took the opportunity to distract her by looking toward the brush where Travis had disappeared and seething, “Keep out of this!”

Thinking that Travis had come to help, Savannah turned her head to call for assistance.  But when Diego saw her take her eyes off him for just an instant, he let his son drop to the ground and took her into his arms, twisting her hands until she fell to her knees.  They struggled for possession of the pistol, his heavy body covering hers.  She writhed against him, her fingers desperately searching for the hammer and trigger so that she could gain control over the situation.  As her hand closed around the barrel of the pistol, the blast of the bullet echoed in her ears, rendering her deaf and disoriented. 

She looked into Diego’s surprised eyes and horror filled her heart when he fell onto her in a lifeless heap.  Suddenly exhausted, she went limp herself and lay beneath him for what seemed like hours before Travis came to her rescue.

When he heard the shot ring out in the desert, he knew that it meant only one thing: Diego had escaped and had shot Savannah.  He hurried back to where he had left her, pistols cocked and ready to kill.  But when he saw her all but unconscious beneath Diego, he rushed to pull the body from her as he breathed, “God woman, what happened?”

“He got a knife and cut himself free,” she said as if apologizing for her husband’s actions.

“How did you end up under him with him dead?” he asked confused.

“We struggled for the gun and I guess it went off,” she explained.  Then realizing that she had killed him when Travis had hoped to take him to trial, she put her head in her hands and said sadly, “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said as if it did not bother him at all.  “He’d have been dead sooner or later anyway.  Are you sure you’re not hurt?  Did he hurt the boy?”

As if shot from a gun, her head snapped up when she realized that her son had been tossed aside when they had struggled on the ground.  She got to her feet and searched the surrounding ground for Benito, calling his name in a fearful voice.  Finally, she saw him crouching behind a rock and she ran to him, pulling him to her and talking soothingly to him.

“Let’s get back on the trail,” Travis said before he lifted the body onto his shoulder.

“Are you going to take him back anyway?” she asked.