Nueces Justice
Page 8
“Just asking.” Cav felt the handle of his own Walker Colt pressed against his ribs. Both of his hands were on the table. There was no way he could pull the gun quickly enough to take on one of these men, much less three.
“I’m not sure I like what you’re implying.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Cav saw the hand of the man on his left move toward his pistol.
“Let’s not do something we might all regret later, gents.” He slowly pushed away from the table. “Y’all have won quite a bit. Let’s call it a day.” He kept his hand above his waist to show he wasn’t going for his gun as he started to stand.
The oldest of the three began to rise. He turned away and was slightly bent over, concealing his hand going to the gun in his waistband.
By this time, Cav’s raised right hand dropped and his throwing knife found its way into the man’s throat. With his left hand, he pulled the Colt from his holster. The other two men were slower to react and found themselves staring at the business end of Cav’s Colt.
Cav carefully bent down and pulled the knife from the man’s throat. There was an awful lot of blood. Cav had severed the man’s carotid artery. He wiped the knife on the dead man’s shirt. “I think we’re done here. Y’all take your friend and git.”
A deputy sheriff walked in just about the time the action was winding up. He had a shotgun in hand and leveled it at Cav.
“Put your gun down, son. You’re under arrest.”
The shotgun muzzle was no more than three feet from Cav. The other two card players backed away cautiously.
Another gunshot broke the stillness when Cav put a slug into the surprised deputy’s chest. The lawman crumpled to the floor, flinched reflexively for a moment, and then bled out in the whiskey and sawdust.
“No one aims a gun at me.” The words flowed natural-like from Cav. He holstered his Colt, sheathed his knife, and headed for the door. A man made a move to block his escape, but Cav stared him into retreating. Soon enough, he had saddled his horse, grabbed his remaining spare horse, and was heading out of Tombstone. He’d contributed significantly to the town’s reputation and lore as the scene of much gambling and many gunfights. He rode slowly past the O.K. Corral, which would one day become legendary.
He headed east through Apache country. Amazingly, Cav avoided at least two war parties. His Sioux blood likely wouldn’t have been worth a tinker’s damn to an Apache or Comanche, or even a Kiowa, for that matter. He had the good sense not to build any fires, despite the cooling temperatures.
He managed to waylay a mail carrier by setting up a trip line. The horse and rider tumbled but were not seriously hurt. The pickings were slim. There was nothing of value in the letters Cav bothered to open. He considered killing the rider, but thought better of it. The man was already scared to death. All told, Cav rode away with about ten dollars. He decided that robbing mail carriers wasn’t worth the trouble.
Soon enough, he’d made it through the rugged mountains of eastern New Mexico and arrived in El Paso. After finding a place to spend the night, he penned a letter to Cora and Belle. He assumed they were still in Bozeman. It was his usual chicken scrawl, as he’d not really learned to write properly. He basically let them know that he had left Arizona and was still alive. He sincerely hoped his sisters were doing well and that they might have found men to change their lives for the better.
He’d heard there were opportunities in Corpus Christi, as it was becoming a port of some repute. Consequently, after a few uneventful and profitable games of poker in El Paso, he soon found himself tracing the Rio Grande toward Laredo from whence he could strike a trail due east to the port city. He’d been a bit uncomfortable in El Paso when he saw a wanted leaflet posted at the mail station with his name on it. It showed a $200 reward for the murderer of a deputy sheriff in Tombstone. Cav was impressed that anyone would risk life and limb to chase him for that much money.
As he entered Laredo, he waved friendly-like at some man leaving hurriedly. He couldn’t know that he’d passed a man with an even greater price on his head. Cav wound up at a hole-in-the-wall place called Texas Jack’s Saloon. It had just about the right sort of pass-through clientele to help him sharpen his card playing. Laredo was okay, but he wanted more. He wasn’t certain just what he was seeking, but he sensed he wouldn’t find whatever it was in this town.
TEN
A Wild Card
Strong decided to slow down to permit Luke to close the gap on him. He didn’t want to have to wait too long once he’d set his trap. Ambush was his style, after all. He stayed away from any ranches and homesteads such as they were along the route toward San Ygnacio.
San Ygnacio was originally a Mexican pueblo founded by settlers from nearby Guerrero, Tamaulipas in Mexico around 1830. The town had suffered frequent Comanche and Apache attacks that necessitated the use of stone architecture for defensive purposes. San Ygnacio earned notoriety in 1839 as the place where plans were laid for the short-lived and failed revolution of the Rio Grande Republic.
Bad Bart knew he had a price on his head, having seen the poster at the post office back in Corpus Christi. The reward was likely to have increased by now. In fact, it was plausible that the Texas Ranger captain wasn’t the only one chasing him. There were some folks who made a living bounty hunting, whether collecting animal varmint pelts, Indian scalps, or lawbreakers on the run like Strong.
He had no intention of getting so far as the town itself. He finally found the perfect location for an ambush and hunkered down to wait for Luke. The place was high enough to afford him a view out over a couple of miles of prairie, and the natural rock outcropping offered enough cover to build a small fire without being detected. The grasses were tall, but not so tall that you couldn’t see a rider on the trail.
He bided his time. He’d have to be patient, and that would likely only last so long as his food held out.
***
Luke and his entourage of three rode within sight of Laredo. Three Toes stayed at a small encampment they set up to the east of the town. It wouldn’t do for him to be seen in Laredo, what with the locals’ sensitivity to Comanche. The Penateka had raided Laredo and its outskirts several times in past years, killing settlers and stealing livestock. The Comanche even had the audacity to try to sell the stolen cattle back to their former owners. In any case, Three Toes would stay clear. He recalled that his pony was one of those stolen from a Laredo rancher a year earlier.
Clyde rode beside Luke. They gave off little doubt that they were Texas Rangers. There was simply a commanding “we’re the law” look about them. Most town folk were pleased to see them, despite issues the previous year over the Callahan matter. Most of the citizens who had an issue with that incident had moved across the Rio Grande to Nuevo Laredo.
Luke and Clyde pulled up in front of Texas Jack’s Saloon, dismounted casually, and tied their horses to the hitching rail. Luke felt in his bones that Strong had been there but was likely gone. He had a sense for these sorts of things.
They climbed the steps and strode into the saloon. Luke went to the right and Clyde to the left as they scanned the space. Clyde did a quick check of the room. There was a man dressed in black playing cards at a table at the back of the room. A trio of Mexicans closer at hand were drinking and laughing at crude jokes. Their table had one shorter leg and tended to rock during their fits of mirth. Two cowboys were seated on stools at the bar, sipping whiskey, and flirting with some sexily clad women. The wooden walls were permeated with odors of alcohol, sweat, and sex.
Clyde stopped just beyond the door and stood rear guard just in case. Luke eased over to the bar. He swept his duster back a bit so his badge and Walker Colt showed clearly. He tipped his hat to two cowboys standing at the bar.
“How are you gents?”
It wasn’t usual for people to be poking their noses into other people’s business without being asked, so Luke’s question was unexpected. The two cowboys nodded and turned to the bar away from Luke.
One of the cowboys slowly turned to face Luke. “Something in it for us?”
“Depends on how good your information is.” Luke at least had the cowboy’s attention. “I’m looking for a man named Bart Strong.”
The cowboy leaned back, and the second cowboy joined in. “Shucks, Captain, you missed that murdering thief by a day. He killed one of our finest citizens and then killed the deputy sheriff.”
Luke shook his head over the loss of the lawman but was pleased he’d made up enough ground to be only a day behind Strong. “Much obliged. When I collect the reward, I’ll be sure to share it.”
“How about sharing now?” The words were blurted out in a tone that suggested a challenge.
Luke stepped back from the bar and threw two bits on the counter. “Consider that a down payment, boys. Enjoy a drink on me.” Trouble was the last thing he wanted.
The two looked quizzically at each other, trying to decide whether to continue to challenge Luke.
“You guys look to be too smart to start trouble for trouble’s sake. Again, my name is Luke Dunn. I’m good for my word.”
The two decided that discretion was the better part of valor. They nodded to Luke, wished him luck finding Strong, and turned to the bar to enjoy newly poured drinks.
“Clyde, let’s go.” Luke wasn’t going to waste time hanging in Laredo if Strong had already left town.
They took one more look around and headed out the door to their horses. As they reached the hitching rail, Clyde paused. “Luke, did you see that fella in the back dressed in black? I think I read something about him. He might be that outlaw Dirk Cavendish.”
“Well, he was gone when we left. Must have slipped out the back door. I suspect he’ll still be around after we finish up with Strong.” Luke seemed at least outwardly unconcerned. “Let’s get back to Three Toes. We’ll get started after Strong in the morning.”
Clyde shrugged. Long Luke could just as well have been nicknamed Quiet Luke so far as he was concerned. The man didn’t waste time with idle conversation. They rode in silence to their little encampment just outside of Laredo.
Three Toes had a fire going and was cooking up what appeared to be deer. A bit of venison sounded right good to the Rangers.
“Good news in Laredo?” Three Toes wasn’t exactly a conversationalist either.
“Strong’s headed south toward San Ygnacio.”
“Not good. Plenty cover for ambush.” Three Toes stated the obvious.
Luke appeared to ponder that for a moment. “He won’t go so far as the town. We’ll swing wide east and then circle back to approach from the south. He won’t be looking for us from that direction.”
“Dang, Luke, that makes sense.” Clyde figured Luke had been conjuring up some sort of plan during the short ride from Laredo to their camp.
Three Toes said, “We should divide and conquer. It’s an old Comanche way.”
Luke smiled respectfully. “I like that, my friend.” He unsaddled the big grey and placed the saddle on the ground near Three Toes. “Clyde, you’re goin’ to be bait.”
Clyde’s expression turned. He wasn’t smiling at Luke’s strategic genius. “You want me to be what?”
“I want you to come in from the north and kick up a bit of trail dust.” He understood Clyde’s hesitation. “You’re a Texas Ranger, Clyde. You can handle this.”
Clyde was all too aware that Strong was known to fell a target from as far as five hundred yards out and didn’t even have one of those new-fangled telescope sights on his rifle.
“We’ll be on him afore he draws a bead on you, Clyde,” Luke assured him.
Three Toes lifted the spit from the fire. The venison sizzled and dripped just a bit of blood. Tearing off chunks of meat for Luke and Clyde, he grinned broadly. In a way, he didn’t miss the responsibility of dealing with a tribal council and keeping his wives happy. He could enjoy much-anticipated spirited sex with them after he was finished with this new-found adventure. Besides, he appreciated the opportunity to learn a bit more of the white man’s way.
“Three Toes head west to big river, then follow trail south.” He was telling Luke that he’d parallel the road to San Ygnacio. The escarpments that would afford cover for Strong tended to be west of that road. Everyone nodded approval. A plan to get Bad Bart Strong had evolved. They’d capture or kill, depending on Strong’s resistance. Either way, the outlaw would likely wind up a dead man.
***
Strong kept watch in between naps and stoking a small fire. He was about five hours’ ride south of Laredo, so figured Luke would show up soon enough. Other than brewing coffee, chewing on jerky, and occasionally leaving his roost to relieve himself, he was resolved to simply wait for his prey. The trail that Luke would likely take was within two hundred yards and at a lower elevation. It was an easy shot for an excellent marksman like himself.
ELEVEN
Ambush
“Donde nos dirigimos, jefe?” One of the bandits asked where they were headed.
Carlos Perez leveled his remaining eye on the men. He scanned the eight bandits that rode with him. “Quién dijo que?” he responded with great irritation. Who had the temerity to speak without being asked?
No one owned up.
“Tenemos una puntuación que resolver, amigos.” Perez reminded them that they had a score to settle. Implied was the command to simply follow unquestioningly.
Nine bandits plus spare mounts and a couple of pack mules made for a serious entourage. There was no question they were looking for trouble. They’d crossed the Rio Grande down near San Ygnacio and headed north. Perez had heard their quarry was headed to Laredo, and he had revenge on his mind. He hadn’t forgotten the incident in Corpus Christi. A ricochet bullet from Luke’s shooting at him had cost Perez his left eye as he’d made his escape. The wounded horse and lost member of his band were but collateral damage. He wore a black patch as a constant reminder of his loss.
***
From his vantage point hidden behind the saloon, Cav watched Luke and Clyde leave. He breathed a sigh of relief. His plan was to head due east in the morning. In a few days, he’d arrive at Corpus Christi and seek further fortune. That assumed all went well. There was no telling what manner of difficulty he might encounter along the way. Now that he was a wanted man, he’d have to be alert for bounty hunters. They could be right mean.
Meanwhile, with the Texas Rangers gone, he figured to have a few hours to kill before heading out. Cav went back into the saloon and scanned the local ladies. There was still a young lady flirting with the two cowboys at the bar, and another teasing an older man at a table in the back. Some would consider her a ravishing beauty with her high cheek-boned classic facial lines and long red hair. Yep, she was right attractive. As Cav bellied up to the bar, he tipped his hat to her.
The young lady was intrigued by the man in black. Something about him pulled at her. There was a mystery that seemed to surround this man. Maybe it was the black, maybe the thin mustache, maybe the look in his eyes.
Cav turned to the bar as if to ignore her.
Of a sudden she was next to him. “What you up to, mister?”
“Care to join me for a drink?” Cav asked.
“Sure. My name is Scarlett.” She gave him her sexiest smile. “You just here to drink?”
“Been on the trail a long time. What do you have in mind?” Something about her reminded him of his sister Belle. There was a toughness borne of too many men but also a vulnerability.
The barkeeper slid a key toward Scarlett. As was often the case, he likely took a cut of whatever she earned by her trade. Barkeeps often as not were pimps as well as bartenders.
Scarlett tugged gently at Cav’s arm. “Come along, big guy.” She yearned to learn more about the stranger, but first things first.
Upon entering the room, she’d barely had time to close the door behind
them when Cav had her nearly stripped naked. It’s what Cav knew. He’d seen his father do it to Cora and Belle. Scarlett liked to play a little rough, so Cav’s technique worked for her. He lowered her onto the bed and slid on top of her between her parted legs. Soon enough, he had completed his business and began to get ready to leave.
“Where you going? What’s your name? You gonna be in Laredo long?” She earnestly wanted answers.
Cav looked her over, taking her in almost dispassionately. It brought back the memory of Cora trying to slip into his bed. He had an urge to hit Scarlett, but held back. “You don’t need to know my name or where I’m headed. It’ll likely be to hell anyway.”
She was taken aback. Sex with Cav had been intense, not much tenderness but tremendous passion. She loved it. Now, he seemed aloof. He wasn’t like other men she’d had, the young ones meeting raw biological urges or older ones trying to recapture long-lost youth. There was a sense of mystery that intrigued her, that pulled her toward him. “You can spend the night here, if you like.”
He paused to consider her offer as he finished buttoning his shirt. “I’m heading out to Corpus Christi first thing in the morning.” He took in her nakedness, barely covered with a silk sheet, and shrugged. He leaned over and began to pull on his boots, but then pulled them back off. “You gonna let me sleep?”
Scarlett laughed quietly. She didn’t want the ladies in the adjoining rooms to think she was having too much fun. “Sure, you can sleep, so long as you pleasure me again in the morning.”
“My name is Cav.” He laid down beside her and went to sleep.
***
Luke knew Clyde would wait about an hour for Luke and Three Toes to get well ahead of him before starting on the trail to San Ygnacio. He sure didn’t like the idea of being bait. He’d be in the line of fire if he ran into the expected ambush before Luke found Strong’s hiding place.
Luke had ridden south, taking a path that was far to the east of the road. He judged that Strong wouldn’t go too far to lay his trap. It was terribly hot. His bandana was soaked, and his shirt was so wet with sweat that it stuck to his back. His wounded hand was overheating from the bandage. He decided to lighten up the dressing. It had been several days since Doc had stitched him up, and he figured it was getting close to healed.