Nueces Justice

by Greathouse, Mark

  Elisa climbed from the wagon and helped Mike down. “You can come inside, but don’t go touching things.”

  She encountered Doc as she was about to climb the steps to the general store.

  “Good day, Elisa. I see Mike’s getting back to his old self. How’s your farm these days?”

  “Thanks, Doc. I finally had to come into town to pick up supplies. I did manage to sell some feed to the neighbors.” She paused for a moment. “Have you heard anything from Captain Dunn?” She tried to be nonchalant, though her heart was beating madly with hope of good news.

  “Word has it that he brought that Strong fella to justice, if that’s what you mean.”

  Elisa’s facial expression said it all. She was pleased with the news.

  Doc understood these things. “In case you’re wondering, I have heard that he’s headed back to Corpus Christi. Likely, he’ll come through Nuecestown.”

  Her heart felt like it was about to burst from her chest. “Thanks, Doc. Thanks so much.”

  She distractedly went into the general store to shop. She’d want herself and her farm to be at their very best when Luke Dunn came to pay a visit. That bolt of pretty blue cotton fabric could be turned into a lovely dress that might turn Luke’s head. She decided to splurge and bought a couple of yards. She had her mother’s sewing needles and plenty of spools of thread.

  ***

  Dirk Cavendish was gone from Laredo by the time Luke returned with Strong’s carcass. He decided to ditch his all-black attire, as it was attracting far too much attention. It was even part of the description on his wanted poster. He decided a lower profile was in order. He even shaved off the mustache.

  He’d managed a final roll in the bed with Scarlett before he departed. He was a bit put off at what seemed to be a certain attachment to him. He didn’t need a woman in his life at the moment.

  He decided to take it easy, switching mounts every ten miles or so. As it was, the journey would take the better part of a week if all went well. He’d have to be vigilant for Comanche and Apache, not to mention Mexican and Anglo bandits. He figured there likely wouldn’t be many lawmen on the prairie. He thought about following the road from Laredo to Corpus Christi, but feared running into the law. He took a parallel route a mile or so to the south. It was rougher terrain, but he felt it made for safer travel.

  Cav hoped Cora and Belle had received his letters up in Bozeman. He lamented that he wasn’t there to protect them, though what common sense he had recognized that they’d made their own choices.

  He couldn’t know that young Belle had already met her end, caught in the crossfire of a saloon gunfight. Moreover, Cora had gotten herself pregnant with some itinerant cowboy’s contribution. The sisters had grown up far too fast. All of the Cavendish kids had matured faster than most; that is, if it could be called maturity.

  ***

  Bozeman, Montana was a hellhole by any description. Trappers, miners, whores, and cowboys pretty much defined its population. Poor Belle Cavendish was trying to give up her whoring ways and had taken up with a miner named Pete Wickers, who’d made a modest strike and offered promise of a good life for her. Likely, the promise was made for the base purpose of getting into her bed, as he had a family back east in Philadelphia. Unfortunately, he liked to gamble at cards. One night he clumsily tried to cheat. Belle had seen the man opposite him at the table take offense and pull a gun. She stepped in front of Pete and took the bullet meant for him.

  Cora sought escape, too. Despite the tragic ends that many whores met, she felt she’d found her man. He claimed to have a spread on the other side of the Absaroka Range, though no one could confirm that. He had his way with her, got her with child, and then excused himself to take care of some ranching business. He promised to return before the birth. Whether he was telling the truth about returning would never be known, as he was killed by a Sioux hunting party a mere two days from Bozeman. Cora wouldn’t find out until weeks later, when his personal effects were brought to town.

  ***

  Cav pushed on toward Corpus Christi, oblivious to the fate of his sisters. They were the only humans in his life that he cared about, and he was losing them as surely as he’d lost his own soul.

  He had learned to be ever more trail-savvy, as the trek from faraway Montana demanded much from any man. Aside from wolves, bears, and poisonous snakes, Cav learned to be on the lookout for Indians, lawmen, and bounty hunters. He traveled light, eventually even selling off one of his two spare horses at a mail way station. He kept his knives sharp, his pistol loaded, and his cards at the ready.

  It made for an interesting confluence of purposes that Luke, Cav, and Perez and his gang would all eventually be simultaneously following the trail to Corpus Christi, yet unaware of each other’s presence. Such was the vastness of the Nueces Strip and the vagaries of fate.

  ***

  Perez rode into Laredo a few hours after Luke had started down the trail back to Corpus Christi. With eight men in his gang of bandits and flush with money from the sale of stolen cattle, he was feeling especially cocky and ready to relax and have some fun before heading east.

  Perez’s gang rode straight into town and went directly to the livery to stable their horses. Next stop was Texas Jack’s Saloon. They didn’t even pause to clean up from the dusty trail. Whiskey and women were first and foremost on their minds.

  Scarlett and the other women were not enthusiastic about their new visitors. They hated whoring with most Mexicans. This bunch hadn’t even bothered to clean themselves up, so the ladies would be suffocated by the trail odors of horse manure, sweat, and damp leather.

  Scarlett thought about sneaking out the back door. Perhaps she could catch up with Cav. Perez saw her and would not tolerate her leaving. Now, she recognized him from months earlier, when Captain Callahan had chased him and his gang through town. He’d taken her for the proverbial quickie, and it was clear that he remembered her and was now aiming to repeat his previous dalliance.

  “Yo, pelirrojo. A dónde vas?” He stood with his slightly bowed legs wide and hands on his hips. He motioned the pretty redhead to join him at the table with two of his gang. As Scarlett reluctantly moved toward him, he poured two whiskeys. “Rápido, aqui. Beber.”

  Scarlett moved toward him as he asked, and took the glass of whiskey he offered. She figured she’d need more than one to endure this man. She felt his ugliness ripple like a shudder through her body. The black eye patch only added to his repulsiveness. He’d lost most of his teeth, so his smile was like the opening of a black maw surrounded by thin dark lips. The barkeep brought another bottle and slipped a room key to her.

  A couple of drinks later, Perez excused himself, grabbed Scarlett roughly by the arm, and pulled her along up the stairs. There was no question of his intentions or his drunkenness. Perez hurried her along, staggering drunkenly. He was rough and stunk to high heaven.

  Once inside the room, Perez wasted no time. He had just enough to drink that he had trouble getting aroused. Nevertheless, he threw back her petticoats and unbuttoned himself. He stood over her, looked at her, and then looked down at himself. Nothing was happening. The room seemed to spin around him.

  Scarlett knew what she needed to do, but didn’t want to do it. It would be especially disgusting.

  Perez pointed to his privates. “Béseme!” He smiled and puckered his lips. “Béseme ahora!” He thrust his flaccid member toward her while teetering in his drunkenness, as the whiskey began to have its full affect.

  The thought of kissing that thing was even more repulsive. But, as Scarlett reached for him, she watched with relief as he passed out and crumpled to the floor. A chill of loathing coursed through her. She was determined to be far away from Laredo when he awoke. She hoped to catch the early stage to Corpus Christi.

  Scarlett still had the man in black on her mind. Few of her customers left any lasting impressions, but Cav had. Perhaps she could catch up with the man in black. She began to stuff personal effect
s into her satchel. She needed to get away fast.

  ***

  Having gotten all the supplies she needed from the general store and the information on Luke she’d hoped for, Elisa hustled Mike back up onto the wagon and headed back to the farm. She felt uplifted and hopeful that her feelings for the Texas Ranger captain might be reciprocated.

  She had to focus for the present on reaping a small but profitable harvest. Fortunately, Sheriff Whelan hadn’t visited. In fact, no one in Nuecestown had seen him for a couple of weeks. Elisa figured he must be keeping the ladies of Corpus Christi satisfied.

  She pulled the rig up in front of the cabin to facilitate unloading supplies. Mike was just big enough to be of some help. His arrow wound had just about fully healed, though the poor child was still having nightmares about the Comanche attack. He definitely missed his mother and, try as she might, Elisa was simply no substitute there. Mike would need a father, too. Elisa could hope.

  As she began to lead the emptied rig back toward the corral, she noticed a saddled horse tied to one of the corral posts. When did that arrive and where was the rider? She stopped and went back to the house to retrieve her Walker Colt. Upon her return to the rig, she was faced with none other than Sheriff George Whelan. She let out a small but audible sigh of resignation at having to deal with the sheriff.

  “Miss Corrigan. I’m glad to see you doing well. I thought I’d stop by and be sure you are okay.”

  “Thank you, Sheriff. All is indeed quite well. I appreciate your concern. I think I’m able to take care of the farm by myself.” She hoped he’d get the veiled hint and vamoose.

  “Anything I can do to help?”

  “Thanks again, Sheriff, but little Mike and I have everything under control. We appreciate your offer.” She wondered how she might get rid of Whelan without totally alienating the man. “I understand that Captain Dunn was successful in his pursuit of Bart Strong, and now he’s headed back this way.”

  Whelan’s expression changed. He now realized that he had a very serious rival for the young lady’s affections. He decided not to push his luck. “Well, Miss Corrigan, if you ever decide you’d like some help around here, please don’t hesitate to give me a call. I’m never that far away.”

  She thought on that last phrase. It was good news and bad news from her perspective. “Thank you, Sheriff. We’ll keep that in mind.” She was careful to respond as “we,” since Mike and she were family and it sounded stronger. She saw that it wasn’t just about her and her needs. Whelan was likely a capable man, but hardly what she had in mind as a father figure to her brother. In her eyes, only Luke Dunn could fill that role.

  THIRTEEN

  On the Trail

  Luke rhythmically squeezed the bandana in his palm as he strove to strengthen his hand back to where he could effectively fire a gun and apply whatever other uses he found necessary. He’d pointed the big grey stallion east from Laredo. There was no special hurry, and the riding was easy. In any case, he thought he’d stop in Nuecestown, figuring he might as well check up on that charming young girl. He hoped and prayed she wasn’t having further problems with Comanche or any other folks of ill intention. She seemed to be a sweet girl but frontier-tough, too, and Luke couldn’t get her out of his mind. He especially liked her spirit.

  He hoped that Three Toes’ travel back to his village was proceeding incident-free. Luke wished he could be at Three Toes’ council campfire as he told the story of his travels with the Ghost-Who-Rides. The thought brought an involuntary smile to his lips.

  He decided to travel a fairly straight route, avoiding the twists and turns of dry creek beds. The arroyos offered cover, but were not especially efficient for quickly getting from place to place. He’d have to be a bit more watchful. He hummed some Irish ballads. At least, he thought he was humming, though his voice was actually loud enough to spook any wildlife within hearing.

  A loud voice, a familiar voice, startled him. “Ghost-Who-Rides, you chase away game.”

  He turned to see Three Toes. Only, it wasn’t just Three Toes. Clyde’s horse had been joined by half a dozen more of the four-legged beasts. Apparently, Three Toes had been diverted in his journey back to his village.

  “Dang, Chief, you’ve been busy.” Luke smiled. “Do I need to arrest you for horse thieving?”

  Three Toes smiled broadly. “These are Apache ponies.”

  Luke couldn’t help but be impressed. He noted that two fresh scalps hung from Three Toes’ lance. The Apaches were surely fair game out on the Nueces Strip. Scalping was a grisly practice, but folks who dealt with Comanche, Apache, Kiowa, and the like necessarily got used to it. “The sun will set in an hour. Let’s share a campfire.”

  They rode a way further until they found a suitable spot to camp. Luke gathered enough dead live oak branches to make a small fire, and they feasted on some venison that Three Toes had also managed to steal from the hapless Apache.

  “Where are you headed, Ghost-Who-Rides?”

  “Somewhere between here and Corpus Christi is a killer named Dirk Cavendish. I hope to catch up with him and bring him to justice.”

  Luke thought on that last word a bit. What would justice really be for someone like Cavendish? What had led the young man to his choice, and his inevitable fate? Was he a product of a tough life, as Bart Strong had been? Why did an immigrant from Ireland who also had life challenges take the right side of the law, while men like Cavendish and Strong chose a life of evil?

  “Are you headed straight back to your people, or do you hope to find more Apache?” Luke laughed.

  “Seven horses plenty, my friend. I think my people may be wondering what became of me. Maybe there’s a new chief.” He chuckled, but actually feared that might happen. There were certainly Comanche that coveted Three Toes’ position.

  They made small talk for another hour after the sun had fully dropped below the distant horizon. Out on the vastness of the prairie, it seemed like a setting sun was drawn to the horizon like iron to a magnet. The pinkish-orange sky boded well for a beautiful next day for traveling. There was little so awesomely inspiring as a sunset on the Nueces Strip.

  Before retiring for the night, Three Toes left the camp to check on his string of horses. When he returned, Luke was already sacked out and snoring. The Indian noted that the white man made much noise when he rode during the day as well as when he slept at night. He was afraid that his new-found friend wasn’t being as careful as he needed to be on the dangerous prairies of the Nueces Strip. Three Toes decided he’d have to take first watch.

  ***

  She saw the campfire light in the distance. Scarlett had talked the stable boy into selling her a usable nag for the trip to Corpus Christi in lieu of waiting around for the stage coach and the risk of encountering Carlos Perez. She’d already heard that Perez’s men had passed around a couple of the ladies from Texas Jack’s Saloon to their pleasure. She felt lucky to have avoided that fate. Now she wondered what she might find at the distant campfire. The attraction was like a mosquito to a hot flame, perhaps the heat of a dangerous flame. She wasn’t familiar with travel in such rough country.

  This wasn’t the life Scarlett had dreamed of growing up in Richmond. Her parents died in a flash flood from a rainstorm when she was a toddler, so she was raised by her mother’s elderly parents. She’d become bored. She had dreams of adventure. As a fifteen-year-old, Scarlett found herself swooning over a soldier home on leave from some duty station out west. He worked his charms on her and persuaded her to leave Virginia and run away with him. They made it as far as a riverboat on the Mississippi River, when she discovered she was pregnant. It scared her soldier nearly to death and he took off, leaving her alone on the boat.

  There was no going back to Richmond. A gambler on the boat befriended her and accompanied her to New Orleans, taking advantage of her along the way. It turned out he owed some folks money and was on the run. She followed him to Texas and eventually to Laredo, where he was shot dead after a game of p
oker gone terribly wrong. Scarlett then had the fortune, or misfortune, to miscarry her baby. So there she was, alone and vulnerable, a stranger in a small Texas town on the Mexican border. She made fast friends with some ladies who turned out to be prostitutes. Given her increasing familiarity with men and having no marketable skills other than her outer beauty, she took to whoring.

  Now, she found herself on a wild chase across the Nueces Strip, following a man who likely didn’t know or care that she existed.

  It took Scarlett about an hour to close the distance to the campfire in a darkness lit only by the light of the stars and a nearly half-moon. She’d also acquired a revolver, but prayed she’d never need it except to take her own life if attacked by Comanche or Apache. She didn’t feature ever being a sex slave to some savage.

  She finally drew close enough to see horses. She made out a big grey in their midst. She vaguely recalled that the Texas Ranger back in Laredo rode a horse like that. But the ponies had symbols painted on them like those she’d seen on Apache ponies. She was now in a quandary as to whether to approach the camp.

  “You looking for something, ma’am?”

  She’d heard that voice before. “Mr. Texas Ranger?” She certainly hadn’t heard Luke sneak up on her.

  “Scarlett, I recall?” He smiled reassuringly as she turned to face him. “Our little camp is safe, if that’s your concern. My friend Three Toes is a Comanche chief, but he is my friend. You are welcome to spend the night without worry of being attacked.”

  At another time, she might have been wishing Luke would be interested in attacking her in a different way than he was referring to. “Thank you. Excuse me, but we were never properly introduced.” She reached down from her horse and offered her hand. She incidentally nearly thrust her ample chest in Luke’s face.