[Texas Rangers 05] - Texas Vendetta (21 page)

Flora did not wait to be helped down from the horse. She slid out of the saddle and hurried to the porch as Jayce stepped to the ground. They embraced, then Jayce pushed her off to arm’s length to look her over. “Are you all right?”

“Why wouldn’t I be all right?”

“I heard about Big’un. I wanted to kill him.”

“Him bein’ bigger just makes it easier to hit him where it hurts the worst. I laid it on him good.”

Andy grinned, remembering the bruises and cuts on Big’un’s face. He was probably bruised in other places where it didn’t show.

Rusty was impatient. “We better be movin’. No tellin’ how soon before the Hoppers’ll find out she’s gone.”

Jayce said, “I can’t figure Oscar Truscott lettin’ you go so easy.”

“He trusted the Rangers. Bad as I hate to say it, you and me have got to do the same.”

Jayce turned to Rusty. “You’ll let her ride along with us, won’t you?”

Rusty nodded. “It won’t be safe for her here, at least till things cool off. Tom Blessing will see to it that nothin’ happens to her.”

Walter said, “Maybe some of us better ride along with you too.”

Andy started to protest, but Rusty spoke up ahead of him. It seemed to Andy that he always did when something really important was at hand. “Andy and me are escort enough.” Rusty’s hand was on the butt of his six-shooter.

It would be easy for the Landons to overwhelm the two Rangers and set Jayce and Flora free. Andy suspected such a notion had prompted Landon’s offer. Normal restrictions did not apply in family feuds. When survival was at stake, acts normally regarded as treachery were considered justified.

Flora told Walter, “I wish you’d let my daddy know that I’ve gone with Jayce.”

“I’ll see to it. We’ve got him hid. Big’un and his bunch might want to take it out on him when they see that they’ve lost you and Jayce both.”

Andy saw no sign that any of the Landons followed as he and Rusty rode away with Jayce and Flora. But he slipped his pistol out of its holster and held it for the first couple of miles, just in case.

The morning was far along when they rode up to the jail where Tom Blessing kept his office. Jayce surveyed the frame building with disapproval. “It don’t look any stouter than the one over at Hopper’s Crossing. At least that one’s built of brick.”

Rusty said, “They’ve talked for years about buildin’ a better one, but the county’s always short of money.”

“Short or not, I’ll bet the taxes ain’t cheap.”

“No, but there’s still never enough money.”

Andy looked toward the courthouse. It was his theory that the county’s financial problems resulted mainly from leaky fingers. People normally tight with their own money were sometimes loose with other people’s. In any case it made for interesting politics, each side promising to waste less than the other.

Tom looked up in surprise as Rusty and Andy ushered the Landons into his office. His expression showed that he recognized Jayce on sight.

Rusty said, “Brought you an early Christmas present. I know you didn’t ask for it, but here it is.”

Blessing studied Jayce with misgivings before looking back at Rusty. “You sure ain’t Santy Claus. What do you want me to do with him?”

“Keep him away from the Hoppers till he can stand trial. And we’ll need to get him a change of venue out of old Judge Hopper’s jurisdiction.”

“I guess I can take care of the first part. You’ll need to talk to a lawyer about the other.” He looked at Flora, a question in his eyes.

Rusty said, “This is Jayce’s wife. We need a safe place for her too.”

“This jail ain’t really fixed up for a woman. Any charges against her?”

“Not unless she tries to help Jayce get away. Again.”

Tom thought about it. “She’d be good company for my wife out at the farm.”

Flora objected. “I want to stay in town, where I can be close to Jayce.”

Tom shrugged. “You can put up at Mrs. Smith’s boardin’-house. But if the Hoppers was to come lookin’, it wouldn’t be hard for them to find you there.”

Flora’s jaw set grimly. “It’ll be their own fault if they do. They don’t know how good a shot I am.”

Andy wondered what she intended to shoot them with. She’d had no weapon when she left Truscott’s custody, though one of the Landons could have slipped one to her later, in the darkness. Andy had checked Jayce to be sure he was unarmed, but he had not felt comfortable about putting hands on Flora. He did not intend to do it now. Some things had to be taken on faith, or at least on hope.

Tom said, “I’ll need help guardin’ Jayce. Can’t be here twenty-four hours myself, and I’ve only got one deputy. If the Hoppers was to come down on us in force, one man couldn’t stop them.”

Rusty said, “Me and Andy. He’s more our prisoner than he is yours anyway. I’ll wire the captain for permission.”

Tom nodded. “I’m obliged.” He touched a finger to a marked calendar behind his desk. “District judge is due to hold court here next week. I’d like to get Jayce on the docket as quick as I can. The sooner he’s out of this jail, the better I’ll feel.”

Flora said, “If you-all would turn your backs for a minute or two, you wouldn’t have to worry about guardin’ Jayce. Him and me would be on our way to Mexico.”

Rusty said, “I halfway wish we could, but that’d break our agreement with Sheriff Truscott.”

Andy said, “And our oath as Rangers.”

Jayce said, “Don’t worry about it, darlin’ girl. I ain’t been hung yet. A lot can happen.”

Tom frowned. “Don’t be gettin’ notions. It’s been a long time since I shot a prisoner tryin’ to escape. I didn’t sleep for a week afterwards, but I done what I had to. I’d do it again.”

Jayce’s voice was full of irony. “I sure wouldn’t want to cost you any sleep.” He took Flora into his arms. “Us Landons have died of everything else, but there ain’t none of us ever been hung. If things go my way, I’ll send for you from Mexico. Or maybe South America. I hear it’s mighty pretty down there. They pull fruit right off of the trees, and nobody has to work if they don’t want to.”

To Andy that sounded more like Preacher Webb’s version of heaven. It seemed unlikely that Jayce Landon was going to end up in heaven, or anywhere close to it.

Tom got his keys and motioned toward the back room where the cells were. “Like I said, Rusty, you sure ain’t no Santy Claus.”

Sheriff Truscott glanced up from a paper he had just signed as Big’un Hopper entered the office. The sun was already two hours high. In the past Big’un’s perpetual tardiness had irritated Truscott, but this morning it was welcome. He would have been even happier if Big’un had not shown up at all. The two men tolerated each other only because Judge Hopper forced them to.

Big’un snapped, “Is that all you got to do, sit there writin’ letters?”

“Writin’ reports is part of the job. Austin always wants to know what’s goin’ on here.”

“When I get to be the sheriff I’ll tell Austin to go to hell.”

“What makes you think you’ll ever be sheriff?”

Big’un headed toward the cells in back. Truscott said, “I’ve told you to stay away from Flora unless I’m with you.”

Big’un snickered. “Afraid I’m goin’ to give her what she’s been needin’? If I get a notion to do that, it’ll take more than you to stop me. Hell, I got the notion right now.” He resumed his march toward the cells. Truscott reached into a drawer and withdrew a set of brass knuckles he had taken from a Dallas footpad who had not been half so tough as he thought he was.

Big’un came roaring back, face splotched with anger. “What’ve you done with her? Where’s she at?”

Truscott almost smiled. “I ain’t got the faintest notion. I traded her for Jayce, like I said I would.”

“You’re lyin’. Jayce ain’t there either.”

“I turned him back over to the Rangers. They’ve taken him out of the county to get a change of venue.”

Not quite believing, Big’un said, “Uncle Judd wouldn’t give you permission to do that.”

“I know he wouldn’t. So I didn’t ask him.”

Big’un made two long, angry steps toward the sheriff’s desk. Truscott raised his hands defensively, showing the brass knuckles. Big’un saw them and stopped, but his face kept getting redder. A wail of rage rose in his throat.

Truscott said, “Careful, you’re fixin’ to bust a blood vessel. That seems to be a Hopper family trait.”

“You had no right.”

“I’m the sheriff.”

“You won’t be sheriff long, not when I tell Uncle Judd about this.”

“I’m sheriff till the next election. After that, you and the judge can go to hell for all I care. The Hoppers and the Landons and the whole damned county too.”

Big’un’s eyes narrowed. “You may not live till election.” He stamped out the door.

It would not be long before Judd Hopper came boiling into the office just as Big’un had. Truscott found it odd that he felt relief rather than dread. In the past he had never been able to face down the judge. The man’s overpowering presence had always cowed him. But now that the fat was in the fire, he almost looked forward to the confrontation. This time he had nothing to lose. He had already resolved to give up his office when his term was finished. The judge could do nothing to hurt him.

As he expected, Judd Hopper flung the door open and strode in, Big’un just behind him. The judge demanded, “Is it true what my nephew’s been tellin’ me?”

Truscott was surprised by how calm he felt. “Big’un has got a reputation for abusin’ the truth, but in this case I expect he told you the straight of it. I let the Rangers have Jayce.”

The judge placed his palms flat on the desktop and leaned across toward Truscott. His breath was hot on the sheriff’s face and reeked of chewing tobacco. “You know I wanted to try him in my own court.”

“I doubt that it’ll make much difference where he’s tried. He’s guilty, and he’ll be sentenced to hang.”

“But his crime was committed here.”

“Against your kin. Any normal judge would recuse himself from the case if it involved his own family.”

“I wanted to personally have the pleasure of tellin’ him he’s fixin’ to hang by the neck until dead, dead, dead.”

“Big’un and his cronies would see to it that he was shot or hung before he ever got to trial. They tried it the last time, only the bird had already flown.”

The judge sputtered, struggling to raise more argument but seeing the futility of it. His face was crimson, and veins stood out on his temples. “You’re through in this county, Oscar. I’ll see to it.”

“Ain’t much you can do till election. After that you can have the whole shebang.”

The judge gave Truscott a look that would wilt cactus, then spun on his heel, starting toward the door. Big’un protested, “Ain’t you goin’ to do somethin’, Uncle Judd?”

His uncle gave him no answer. Big’un followed him outside. Catching up, he said, “Looks to me like there ought to be somethin’ you can do.”

The judge’s voice dripped sarcasm. “You want me to shoot him?”

“That ain’t a bad idea. I’ve got half a mind to do it myself.”

“If you do, you’ve got no mind at all. No Hopper can afford to shoot him. The state would have a dozen Rangers down here before you could spit.”

Big’un thought about it. “What if somebody else done it, somebody who has nothin’ to do with any of us Hoppers?”

The judge took a few more steps, then stopped, suddenly intrigued. “What do you mean, somebody else?”

“There was an old man—”

The judge raised a hand to stop him. “Don’t tell me. I’ve got to stay clean. I don’t want to know anything about it.”

“All right. I’ll wait a day or two till Oscar figures he’s got us up a stump. Then don’t be surprised at anything that happens.”

The judge stared at him, torn between doubt and hope. “Nephew, you’re not the brightest lamp in the window, but occasionally you think with your head instead of your fists. I hope this is one of those times.”

“It is. You’ll see.”

Two days later Big’un made a show of rifling through the recent fugitive notices in the sheriff’s office. He and Truscott had barely spoken since the confrontation with Judge Hopper. Now Truscott glanced up irritably from a report he was writing. “What’re you lookin’ for?”

“A telegram that came in here a while back. Described a man who robbed a bank out west.”

“You think you’ve got a line on him?”

“Maybe. Feller told me about somebody he seen at the old Yancey farmhouse.” He found the telegram and ran a stubby finger along the lines. “Sure enough sounds like the man, all right.”

His interest piqued, Truscott took the telegram from Big’un’s hand. “You certain this is him?”

“Can’t be certain of nothin’, but the description fits. The telegram mentions a reward. I thought I would ride out and at least take a look. I could use the money.”

“If this is the right man, you’d probably get your head shot off. I’d best go with you.”

Big’un feigned a protest. “I can handle it.”

“Don’t worry about the reward. It’s all yours. But if this is the real bank robber it’s liable to take two of us to bring him in.”

“Suit yourself.”

“I’ll saddle up and meet you here in ten minutes. This report can wait till I get back.”