[Texas Rangers 06] - Jericho's Road (19 page)

Jericho and three others were two hundred yards to the left and working their way around in a slow lope to position themselves in front.

Farley spoke with a touch of sarcasm. “Well, Badger Boy, you got any ideas?”

“
I can’t think of a one.”

Tony said, “Give me a gun. At least let me take him with me.”

Farley said, “You bluffed him once, Andy. Maybe you can do it again.”

“
I wasn’t bluffin’. I’d have shot him if I had to, and he knew it. I still will.”

Jericho and his three riders stopped fifty yards away. They formed a line facing Andy, Farley, and Tony. Andy dismounted and helped Tony to the ground. He stood behind his horse, rifle again resting across the saddle.

Farley followed his lead. He said, “Maybe if we kill one or two, the others will figure out we’re serious.”

Andy said, “I don’t like killin’ a man if I don’t have to.” As the four began moving forward, he took careful aim and fired. A horse went down kicking.

Farley said ruefully, “But you’ve got no scruples against killin’ a horse. I’d sooner kill a man.”

“
It’s a poor choice either way.” Andy levered another cartridge into the breech.

Jericho and his men stopped their advance. They appeared to be confused and quarreling. One rode away, his posture indicating that he had lost an argument. Jericho called after him angrily but to no avail. Jericho and the other remaining horseman dismounted.

Andy fired again, kicking up dirt between the two horses. Both jerked loose and ran. Farley took a shot, putting it just behind them. The horses broke into a full gallop, leaving the three men afoot. Andy could hear Jericho’s voice, loud in rage.

He said, “They’ll be a while runnin’ those horses down. Let’s circle around them and put some distance behind us.”

Jericho fired a couple of futile shots as they cut to the south, then east again.

Farley muttered, “Keep shootin’, Jericho. That’ll just make the horses run faster.”

Tony bent low over the saddle horn. Andy asked him, “You think you can make it the rest of the way?”

Tony ignored the question. He said accusingly, “You ought to’ve shot Jericho instead of the horse.”

They had traveled most of a mile when Andy heard hoofbeats coming from the east. “Damn! I thought we’d left the trouble behind.”

Shortly he saw two riders, one a large man on a big horse. Frustrated, he demanded, “How did Jericho get ahead of us again?”

Farley said, “Blink your eyes and take another look. That ain’t Jericho, it’s Big Jim McCawley.”

Tony raised up, trying to see. “Tell that old gringo I don’t need him.”

Andy looked back. He saw Jericho and one horseman catching up but still three hundred yards away. “You’ll never need him worse. Let’s get to him before Jericho can get to us.” He took hold of Tony’s shoulder. “Hang on tight. We’re goin’ to lope up.”

McCawley reached them first. He had already recognized his stepson. His eyes were wide with concern. “What’s happened to Tony?”

Andy said, “He’s got a bullet in him. If you hadn’t come along, it was startin’ to look like he might get some more. And us too.”

Jericho paused to watch from fifty yards behind.

McCawley dismounted and stood beside Tony’s horse. “Let’s take a look at you, son.” Tony tried to pull away from him, declaring, “Don’t call me son.

McCawley tore the bloody shirt open. He did not like what he saw. “We’d better get him to the house as quick as we can.”

Andy said, “That’s where we were tryin’ to take him. Jericho had it in mind to stop us.”

Tony argued, “I ain’t goin’ with you. I’m goin’ to Tío Lupe.”

Jericho moved closer, his hired man following with obvious reluctance. The Mexican who had arrived with McCawley pointed his rifle toward them. Jericho made a show of keeping his hands high. He halted a few feet from McCawley and his stepson.

“
Jim,” he said, “you came near losin’ this boy of yours. If it hadn’t been for these Rangers … You better break him of runnin’ with your brother-in-law’s renegades, or he’s in for a damned short life.”

Andy felt hair rise on the back of his neck. Animosity passed between the two big men like lightning coursing through stretched wire.

Jim McCawley spoke in the voice of a judge pronouncing a death sentence. “If you ever hurt any of my family again, you’d better have a grave dug and waitin’ for you.”

“
There ain’t no grave deep enough to hold Jericho Jackson.” Jericho pulled his reins, backing his horse a couple of steps. “You keep that chili-eatin’ kid away from everything that’s mine. Else when I’ve taken care of the son, I’ll come lookin’ for the daddy.”

“
You’d better hope to God you don’t find me.”

Tony knotted a fist and leaned forward. “Kill him! Kill him while you’ve got the chance.” He lost his balance. His father caught him and pushed him back into the saddle. “Easy, son, or you’re liable to kill
yourself.
”

Tony tried again to pull away. “I ain’t your son. I don’t have no gringo daddy.”

The blood on his shirt had dried. Now it glistened again, fresh and red.

McCawley spoke in Spanish to the Mexican who had come with him. The Mexican rode in close to support Tony while McCawley remounted.

Jericho and his rider had pulled back but stopped thirty yards away. Andy could read Jericho’s intentions from the way he sat, poised like a cat waiting to pounce. He said, “Might be a good idea if me and Farley was to ride with you, Mr. McCawley. Just in case.”

“
I’d be obliged. Even Jericho respects the Rangers.”

“
Not these Rangers, I’m afraid. But he’ll respect the guns we’re carryin’.”

Tony still acted as if he might pull free and go his own way. His stepfather forcefully took hold of the reins and said, “It’ll be good to get you away from your uncle Lupe for a while. Looks to me like he’s poisoned your mind.”

“
Don’t you say nothin’ against Tío Lupe.”

Farley told Andy, “I’m thinkin’ Big Jim ought to’ve worn out a quirt on that boy’s butt when he was young enough for it to’ve done some good. It’s probably too late now.”

Andy offered no argument.

CHAPTER TEN

O
nly two men had returned so far to the stone house where Guadalupe Chavez waited south of the Rio Grande. They had come separately, one with a bullet in his shoulder, the other walking and leading a bleeding horse. Both said it was unlikely anyone else was coming.

“
It was a trap, Don Lupe,” the wounded man said. “We found but four men with the cattle. They ran away. But the Jericho, he had other men hidden. They came down on us like a whirlwind.”

“
What of my nephew?” Chavez demanded, eyes afire with accusation. “Did you run away and leave Antonio?”

“
I did not see him, but the Jericho’s men were everywhere. They were killing everybody. We had no chance.”

Chavez was more inclined to shoot the wounded man than to treat him. “You should have watched out for him. He is but a boy.”

“
He is a man, a man who should not have gone with us.” The black eyes held accusation of their own. Chavez flinched at a pang of guilt. He had tried to talk Antonio into staying behind but had yielded to the young man’s insistence. He should have held tough.

Chavez pointed to a much larger stone house. “Go to the women. Let them tend your wound.”

“
Yes,
patrón.
” The man hesitated, holding a hand to the bad shoulder. “Good men have died today. What do we do now?”

“
I will tell you when the time comes. First I want to know what happened to my nephew. Send Gonzales to me.”

Gonzales was an efficient spy. He could move about freely, appearing to be a ragged wood-gathering old peasant and no threat to anyone. To the contemptuous gringos he seemed beneath their notice, almost invisible. This worked to his advantage, for his ears were always open for information and his palms open for coin.

Gonzales appeared, his clothing tattered, his dusty feet protected only by
guaraches
so old that the leather was dry and twisted and black. His long gray mustache drooped like his shoulders. “You have work for me,
patrón?”

“
I want you to go across the river and see what has happened to my nephew. If he is dead, I want his body brought back here where he can be buried in hallowed ground with a priest to help his soul find its way to paradise. If he is alive I want to know where, so that I may send men to rescue him.”

“
This will be a dangerous business. The Jericho is killing every Mexican he sees.”

“
He will not waste a bullet on a worthless old man. He would not even stop to spit on you. I will pay well for the right information.”

Gonzales nodded. Chavez had known he would respond to the prospect of liberal payment. His only concern was the man’s greed. He suspected that Gonzales would be easily tempted. Should Chavez ever catch him dealing double, he would stake him down in an ant bed and let him consider the wages of perfidy while he died slowly, one bite at a time.

Gonzales said, “It is told on the other side that one of your men killed a nephew of the Jericho. For revenge he is resolved to kill a nephew of yours.”

“
Antonio?”

“
Have you another?”

“
Yes, but they are far away. Only Antonio has been with me. When were we said to have killed Jericho’s nephew? I have heard nothing of this.”

“
I know nothing more, only what I have told you.”

“
Go then, and find Antonio. If he is alive, we must get him back. If he is dead … find out if Jericho has other nephews.”

The lead slug clanked heavily as Farley dropped it into a tin pan. He pressed a clean, folded cloth over the wound. Bleeding had started afresh as he probed. “I’ve treated many a wound like this, a couple of them in myself. Now, let’s hope he don’t take blood poisonin’. Been as many died that way as of the bullet itself.”

Andy asked McCawley, “Don’t you think you’d better take him to a doctor now?”

“
The nearest one is a two-day ride from here.”

Tony’s mother said, “He’ll get better care from his own family than from a busy town doctor.”

Few small towns had a hospital. A doctor might keep a patient or two in his own home. More likely he would lodge patients in a boardinghouse and visit them as necessary or as time permitted.

Teresa said, “You’re tired, Farley. I’ll bandage him for you.”

Andy noticed her use of Farley’s first name. Propriety would call for her to say
Mr. Brackett.
He was aware that Farley had been watching the girl, trying not to be obvious about it. And several times Andy had noticed her dark eyes fixed on Farley until he looked her way. She would quickly transfer her attention elsewhere.

Farley stepped out onto the back porch to wash his hands in a basin. McCawley and Andy followed. The big man said, “I’m much obliged to you both. If it hadn’t been for you, Tony would be dead.”

Farley only grunted. Andy said, “We did what we could. I only wish we’d got to him sooner, before he was shot.”

“
You’ve made an enemy. Jericho doesn’t forget, and he doesn’t forgive. You bein’ Rangers, he probably won’t shoot you himself, but he may hire somebody that can’t be connected to him.”

Andy said, “I’m not sure we’ll still be Rangers when we report back in. Sergeant Donahue doesn’t forgive or forget much either.”

“
I’ll go over his head. I know people in the Austin office.”

Tony had resisted Farley’s initial effort to treat him. He had insisted, “Get Tío Lupe. I want him to do it.”

McCawley had argued that by the time Lupe Chavez could reach here, Tony would be dead. And Chavez would probably not be able to come in any case. On the Texas side of the river he had a price on his head large enough to tempt even some who sympathized with him.