[Texas Rangers 06] - Jericho's Road (34 page)

Staggering, Jericho made his way to his wife’s side. She appeared to be only half conscious, but she recognized his voice. Her fingers closed weakly over his hand. She murmured, “Jericho? Is that you, Jericho?”

“
It’s me. I’m home.” Jericho lifted her hand and kissed it, then turned back to the maid. “How long since Burt left here?”

“
Not long. I ain’t kept track of the time.”

“
Which direction did he go?”

“
I was too busy to watch him leave, but it sounded like he went north.”

Jericho said, “Wilkes, help me back to my horse. We’ll catch him if we have to trail him plumb to San Antonio.”

“
Jericho, you ain’t in no condition. If you don’t take care of that arm, it’s liable to kill you.”

“
Damn it, I didn’t ask you, I
told
you. If the Lord decides to take me, that’s all right. We all got to go sometime. But I want to see Burt Hatton go ahead of me. Hand me that shotgun from over the mantel.”

“
Like as not he’s got a rifle. He may not let you get close enough to use a shotgun.”

“
I’ll get close. I don’t think I can hold a rifle steady, but that scattergun will get him.”

“
You may not live that long.”

“
Ain’t nobody ever killed me yet. It’ll take a better man than Burt Hatton to do it.”

Hatton had put several miles behind him. The day’s excitement had drained him. He knew he had to keep going, because if Jericho had survived the shooting at the Chavez ranch he might have reached home by now. Hatton wondered which would anger Jericho more, his wife’s injury or the safe with its money box gone. It was a cinch that if Jericho was alive and on his feet he would sooner or later follow Hatton’s trail.

But Hatton was in dire need of a drink. He could have taken a bottle from Jericho’s house if he had thought of it, but his mind had been too involved with grabbing the money and getting away. His path would carry him by a crossroads general store that dealt in groceries, cheap whiskey, and sometimes destitute young Mexican women desperate to make a living any way they could. He saw the place ahead, a flat and ugly structure built of pickets and plastered to keep the wind and rain out.

It was his intention simply to buy a bottle and drink while he rode. But once he was inside, the metal box pressed firmly under his left arm, he decided to linger long enough to savor one drink at leisure. Then he could ride on. The first drink led to a second. By that time a slender young woman had sidled up to him at the rough plank bar and put an arm around his waist. He did not understand much she said, but imagination filled in the gaps. He poured a drink for her and another for himself. His fear of Jericho began to fade as the whiskey and the woman’s big brown eyes warmed his blood. The bottle was more than half empty when he grabbed it by the neck and followed her through the rear of the store. She led him into a small picket shack in the back.

He lost sense of time. He swung his legs down from the bed and knocked over the empty bottle. His head felt light, and the room did slow circles around him. He tried to pull his britches on but had trouble keeping both feet from going into the same pants leg. The woman had to help him. He knew she had dipped into the metal box. He did not know how much she took out of it, and at the moment that did not matter. It came back to him that the box was Jericho’s, and that Jericho was sure to come looking for it. He buttoned his shirt wrong but left it that way. He strapped his gun belt around his waist, part of the shirttail hanging over it.

The woman was rubbing against him and making what he surmised was love talk in Spanish, but he was feeling an urgency to move on. His fear of Jericho began to penetrate the fog raised by whiskey and lust.

He said, “
Adiós,
sweet thing,” and staggered out the door into the daylight. His heart took a leap as his bleary eyes discovered two men standing there. They were Jericho and Jesse Wilkes. The metal box fell from his hands and burst open on the ground. Paper currency began blowing away.

Jericho carried a shotgun under his right arm. His left arm hung stiffly at his side. The sleeve was the rusty red of dried blood, and in the center it glistened with blood still fresh. The voice was not what he was accustomed to from Jericho. It was a little man’s voice, strained and weak, but the words crackled with hate. “Burt Hatton, you are a woman beater, a thief, and a liar.”

Hatton saw the muzzle of the shotgun coming up. He drew his pistol and squeezed off one shot before the blast slammed him back against the picket wall. As he slumped to the ground he heard a woman’s scream from inside the shack. A green bill drifted in front of him. By reflex he reached out, but his fingers were too weak to grasp it. The wind carried it away.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

A
ndy stood beside his horse and looked back toward the Chavez house. He had tried to help Farley saddle up, but Farley had stubbornly waved him away though his face was twisted in pain. He managed to saddle his horse by himself.

Teresa stood just outside the front door, watching.

Andy said, “She doesn’t want you to go.”

Farley did not reply. He went about tightening the cinch, mumbling under his breath.

Andy said, “That wound is liable to get infected. Why don’t you stay here and let them take care of it for you till you’re sure it’s goin’ to heal all right?”

“
Why don’t you mind your own business, Badger Boy?”

“
Personally, I don’t care one way or the other. But that girl has got feelin’s for you, and it’s hurtin’ her to see you go. I think you’ve got the same feelin’s for her.”

“
What if I do? What kind of life would people let us have together, me white, her Mexican? Half, anyway.”

“
I’ll bet Big Jim and his wife had some doubts too, at first. But it looks to me like they’ve done pretty good together.”

“
I ain’t Big Jim.”

“
No, you sure ain’t.” Andy felt a flicker of resentment, seeing the sad-eyed girl watching from the house. “If you was, you wouldn’t worry about what other people say. You’d only think about what
you
want, you and her.”

Farley groaned as he pulled himself into the saddle. His hand went to his side, pressing against the wrapping that bound his ribs. “If we hurry up, maybe we can catch Jericho before he crosses the river.”

“
What for? We’re not Rangers anymore. What Jericho does is none of our business.”

Farley grimaced. “It just rubs me raw thinkin’ about what he done here today. There’s been people killed and a good many more shot up on his account. He ought to be called to answer for it.”

“
He took a bullet. Wouldn’t surprise me if he loses that arm.”

“
It ain’t that I got any sympathy for Lupe Chavez. I don’t. But he’s dead, and Jericho’s still alive. Everybody would be better off if they was both dead. Maybe the border would finally settle down.”

The border would not settle that easily, Andy thought. Two people, even those as powerful as Jericho and Chavez, would not make that much difference.

Andy had seen Jericho ride away with one of his men. Jericho had appeared to be in a bad way. He said, “Like as not the Rangers will pick him up as soon as he crosses the river.”

“
What can they do to him? Any law he broke was on this side of the river, not in Texas.”

Andy admitted with regret, “You’re probably right.”

Before the house faded from sight, Farley shifted in the saddle and looked back. Andy suggested, “It’s not very far. You could still turn around.”

“
I’ve made up my mind.”

They rode in silence most of the way to the river. As they approached it Andy could see horsemen on the far side. He guessed there might be thirty or more. “Some of them are Rangers. Looks like they’ve been pickin’ up Jericho’s men as they cross over.”

Farley drew rein. “I expect Sergeant Donahue is with them. Looks like we’re in trouble, me and you.”

“
Might be. We left word that we’d resigned before we went over, but he didn’t accept that the last time I did it.”

Farley appeared to wrestle with his conscience. Finally he said, “Go on by yourself if you want to. I’m turnin’ back.”

“
Thought you’d made up your mind.”

“
It’s
my
mind. I can change it if I want to.”

Andy smiled. “Just be sure you don’t ever say or do anything to hurt her, even if she is a Mexican.”

“
Just half,” Farley said. He turned and started back toward the Chavez headquarters.

Andy watched until Farley was out of sight, then put his horse into the river. Len Tanner rode to the water’s edge to meet him as he came out. “Awful glad to see you, Andy. I was afraid you might’ve got yourself shot in the big doin’s over there.”

“
They tried, but they missed.”

“
Was it Farley that I seen turn back? I hope he didn’t get his grouchy self wounded.” His tone of voice indicated that he wished otherwise.

“
Once in the side and once in the heart. The one in the heart is a wound he’s apt to carry the rest of his life.”

Len understood and shook his head in disbelief. “Well, I’ll swun. After all the things he said.”

Andy saw Sergeant Donahue riding toward them. “What has Donahue been sayin’?”

“
About you, nothin’ that falls easy on the ears. But about today, he’s grinnin’ like a possum. He’s sure this is fixin’ to earn him a promotion.”

“
I don’t see Jericho in that bunch.”

“
Ain’t much he can do about Jericho anyway, seein’ as everything he done was in Mexico. But he’s got most of Jericho’s men, the ones that made it back across the river. He’s holdin’ them till we can check all of them against the fugitive list. The ones Jericho didn’t lose on the other side of the river, he’s apt to lose over here.”

Donahue stopped his horse and gave Andy a hostile study. “You’re under arrest, Private Pickard. In goin’ across the river you violated a direct order.”

“
I resigned before I went.”

“
That resignation was not delivered directly to me. I do not recognize it.” He looked past Andy. “Where is Private Brackett?”

“
He’s stayin’ over there for a while. He got himself wounded.”

Donahue said, “Serves him right. What about Jericho? He has not crossed.”

“
He left before we did. Had a few men with him. They probably saw the Rangers waitin’ and decided to find a quiet place farther up the river.”

Donahue frowned. “Then he’s probably on his way back to his stronghold.”

“
He looked like one arm was shot to pieces. I’m guessin’ he headed for home to get it taken care of.”

“
You’ve been to his headquarters before. I want you to guide me there.”

“
But I’m under arrest. And I’m not a Ranger anymore.”

Donahue snorted impatiently. “I told you I do not accept your resignation. But take me to Jericho’s and I will consider you no longer a Ranger.”

“
What about that arrest business?”

“
I’ll drop the charges.”

“
If we find Jericho I don’t see much you can do about him. Not legally.”

“
I just want him to know that he’s not the cock of the walk around here anymore. I’m goin’ to tell him the Rangers can go anywhere they want to. From now on Jericho’s road is open to the public.”

Donahue did not wait to see if Andy would accept. He called, “Tanner, I want you and Bill Hewitt. You are goin’ with me and Pickard.”

It struck Andy again how similar Jericho’s stone house was to those of Lupe Chavez and Big Jim McCawley. He saw a man sitting on a bench at the edge of a colorful flower bed, just to the right of the front door. The man watched the Rangers’ approach but made no move to get away. He sat until they were within stone-throwing distance, then stood up to wait for them.