Perez glanced back with his good eye.
“Gretchen. Me llamo Gretchen.” It wasn’t great Spanish, but she was trying.
Perez smiled. She might be worth keeping alive for when he was healed. After all, she wasn’t a bad-looking woman. He’d frequently thought of having an Anglo as his personal whore…an Anglo other than Scarlett.
Along with the storm and fire came wind. The fire was being blown at considerable speed. Perez whipped the horses, hoping to reach the break in the grasses. Sure enough, he soon found himself in a large area of bare ground. It was likely caused by some earlier wildfire, as the ground was dark.
He sat in the wagon seat watching the wildfire sweep by. He heard a tapping on the seat. Gretchen was pleading to be freed. “I need to pee, whatever your name is.” She nodded toward her crotch. “Pee? Agua?”
Perez didn’t at first comprehend. Then it dawned on him. He nodded and tried to stand. The pain was bad. He reached over, steadying himself on the back of the seat, and grabbed her under one arm. Slowly he got her standing. He pointed to the fire and hot soil. There was nowhere for her to run. There was no escape. He untied her ankles and tied a rope to her hands to serve as a leash. Every motion hurt.
She noticed his intense pain and then saw the dark brown blood stain at his crotch. She stored that in her memory for future reference. She slowly let herself down from the wagon, went around the back, and relieved herself. She had the presence of mind to grab a blanket from the back of the wagon. She felt incredibly vulnerable in her nakedness, but became keenly aware that her captor was helpless to do anything to her sexually. She threw the blanket up onto the seat and climbed onboard. She wrapped it around her, but not before standing and stretching to torment him. She felt she’d yet have her revenge on this animal who had murdered her husband and commanded her rape.
***
Three Toes had noticed the wildfire, too. The Comanche had long used the wildfire as a tool in hunts. All manner of animals would flee the flames and fall victim to Comanche arrows. He guessed that Luke was long past the fire.
He decided to investigate, as the tracks he followed headed in the direction he was going. He was soon at the scene of two wagons in flames. At least two partially scavenged bodies were nearby. The buzzards hadn’t quite undone the evidence of their deaths. One had been shot and the other stabbed several times. The varmints couldn’t enjoy the fresh kills with a wildfire bearing down on them.
Three Toes noticed that two horses had died in the flames. One of the wagons had apparently broken down. The second was full of white man’s house furnishings, but the horses were missing. In the burned-out soil, Three Toes saw wagon tracks and evidence of at least four horses, two pulling and two trailing. Whoever had been here was still headed toward Carrizo. As he climbed on his pony, he noted one more thing. A torn calico dress lay under the darker of the men. There was no female body around, so there must be a woman with them. Three Toes guessed she was a captive.
The wagon tracks were a clue that was almost too obvious. A wiser prey would have attempted to cover the trail. Then again, it was conceivable that the quarry wanted to be followed. Three Toes followed the wagon tracks. The ruts continued in the direction of Carrizo. Since the fire had passed and most of the grass had burned off, the wagon tracks were especially easy to follow. If they continued toward the border town, he surmised that Ghost-Who-Rides would likely be waiting for whoever was in the wagon.
***
Scarlett accepted the Ruckers’ offer. The colonel and his wife seemed nice enough.
After dinner, she gathered her belongings in a new satchel and met the colonel in the hotel lobby. He greeted her warmly, perhaps too warmly, but Scarlett thought nothing of it. Men were men, and women seemed destined to have to suffer their indiscretions. Of course, she had no model in her life of a functional family.
The ride in the Ruckers’ carriage only took about an hour on a fairly well-maintained road. It seemed that civilization was catching up with Austin. Thankfully, Mrs. Rucker had joined them. She peppered Scarlett with all sorts of questions on the ride to their ranch. She even wanted to know whether Scarlett stood with free states or slave states. Not having paid any attention to these issues, Scarlett demurred, “I’m sorry, Mrs. Rucker, but these sorts of things were not discussed by my grandparents.” She almost slipped and revealed her dallying in Laredo and travel to Corpus Christi. She was determined to keep that hidden.
Ever the southern gentleman, Colonel Rucker helped Scarlett and Mrs. Rucker from the carriage. Two teenage boys appeared as if from nowhere. “Rex, Stephen, help with the bags.” It was an order, delivered as an officer rather than father. “Oh, Miss Scarlett Rose, I’m pleased to introduce our sons, Rex and Stephen.” The boys nodded impatiently, picked up the bags, and carried them inside the house.
The house was a two-story affair with white siding and black window shutters. There were four white columns that supported a porch across the front. The walkway leading to the front steps was laid out with red brick. The landscaping was exquisite, as there was obviously someone around who truly understood flowers and bushes. The inside was well appointed. Mrs. Rucker showed Scarlett to her room and gave her a bit of time to unpack and settle in. “We’ll have dinner in about an hour, dear. You can more formally meet our sons at that time.”
Scarlett thanked her and turned to unpacking. She thought about the boys. They were certainly handsome lads. She rather suspected that their father would expect them to follow him into the military. She had already learned that the colonel was a graduate of some military school in New York. From the way it was presented, she assumed it was prestigious.
At dinner, Rex and Stephen mostly sat rigidly at attention. They didn’t act as she understood boys to behave. Colonel Rucker spoke, and the boys only spoke when an answer was required. Mrs. Rucker looked prim, proper, and awkwardly uncomfortable with the conduct at the dinner table. She’d apparently been enduring the colonel’s rules their entire married life. Scarlett quickly recognized her as an abused woman, not physically, mind you, but abused nonetheless.
With dinner over, the colonel sent the boys off to curry and feed their horses. “Remember, boys, the horse in battle is an extension of your body. Care for them and they will serve you well.”
Scarlett decided he should apply the same advice to his family.
Mrs. Rucker excused herself. “Scarlett, we’ll go over your duties at breakfast. Sleep well, my dear.” She exited the room rather swiftly, as though escaping more than simply leaving.
“Miss Scarlett, would you care to join me in the study?” It seemed more like a command by its tone than an invitation. He escorted her from the dining room.
Scarlett found herself comparing the house to those she’d envied in Richmond. It was a shade smaller, but still quite impressive. She took the colonel’s arm and walked with him to the study.
The colonel picked a cigar from a wooden thermidor on a large ornate desk. The walls were surrounded with shelves filled with books and a couple of framed paintings. Scarlett guessed that the portraits were the colonel’s ancestors.
Colonel Rucker lit the cigar, drew on it. and blew a few smoke rings. The gesture seemed surprisingly frivolous to Scarlett.
“How long have you actually been in Texas, Miss Scarlett?”
She wondered why he would ask this. “I only just arrived, Colonel Rucker.”
“The house you described in Richmond burned down a year ago. Your grandparents died in the fire. Where have you been since then?”
Scarlett needn’t have answered. She knew that he knew. She didn’t understand how he knew, but that was beside the point. He now held power over her, and he could wield it as he so chose.
The colonel moved close and blew cigar smoke in her face. She coughed. He pulled her to him. “This can be a safe place for you, or a dangerous place. The choice is yours.” He furrowed his brows and looked leeringly into her eyes to be sure what he said had sunk in. He was
so near to her that she could almost feel his mustache against her face.
He decided she wasn’t ready quite yet to learn about the general.
She looked down in acquiescence. She’d been trapped by a man once again. She’d have to figure how to use this new situation to her advantage.
The colonel pulled her more tightly to him and put down his cigar. He made certain she knew who was in control. He released her. “Go, we’re finished here.”
Once back in her room, she tried to gather her wits. It hadn’t taken the Colonel long to figure her out. How had he known? That in itself was scary.
***
Luke had seen the wildfires miles off in the distance. In big sky country like the Nueces Strip, objects that were many miles away could seem close enough to reach out and touch. He guessed the wildfires at twenty or more miles away, a good day’s ride, likely two in a wagon.
He still had enough food to be comfortable. He caught enough sleep that he remained reasonably alert. He thought a lot about Elisa. It was different to have someone he’d be going home to. He assumed she understood his commitment to her, to them. Upon his return, he’d be likely making a choice between rancher or Ranger.
“Ghost-Who-Rides.” A whisper from the other side of the live oak motte.
“Three Toes?”
The chief led his pony into the camp circle, emerging with a broad smile.
“Welcome, my friend.”
Three Toes hobbled his pony and sat cross-legged at Luke’s campfire.
“What brings you here?” Luke tore a piece of meat from the shank on the spit and handed it to Three Toes.
The chief smiled. “You still eating dog, my friend?” He’d quickly identified the meat as coyote. He was thinking about how best to explain why he’d traveled so far. Actually, it was simple. “The Great Spirit called me.” That about said it all.
Luke acknowledged Three Toes’ reason with a head nod. “You have traveled far.”
“My people, the Penateka Comanche, are headed north to the white man’s fort.” He was measuring his words toward eventually sharing what he’d found on his journey. “Miss Elisa sends greetings. I shared coffee with her and her brother. They told me where to find you.” He took a bite of coyote and chewed thoughtfully. “You are a man with strong medicine, Ghost-Who-Rides.”
Luke nodded again and sipped some coffee. “Have your travels been easy?”
“You saw the wildfire. The Great Spirit threw his bolts of fire and set the grasses on fire. Fire cleans the soul. It reveals much.” Three Toes leaned forward. “A wagon is headed this way. There is a wounded man with a captive white woman. They have four horses. They left two dead men with other wagons two days ride from here.”
Luke thought back to the wagons he’d passed a couple of days earlier. If it was the homesteaders, it seemed especially sad. They’d been foolish to travel with such heavy loads and insufficient protection. You couldn’t afford to be careless on the Nueces Strip.
“Do you think the wounded man is Perez?” Luke asked.
“I followed their track and scouted their camp at night. The wounded man has one eye. The woman is bound.”
Luke pondered that. So Perez was close. “Did you see the nature of his wounds?”
Three Toes offered an ironic sort of smile. “He keeps the woman naked, but he is unable to mount her. He is in great pain.” He shook his head.
Luke winced. What he’d heard was true, then. The Laredo whore, Miss Scarlett, apparently had unerring aim. Now, Perez had a hostage and was keeping her vulnerable. “I think we will meet them tomorrow.”
“We must separate the woman from Perez.” Three Toes was already thinking of how to get the Mexican outlaw while protecting the woman. “I think we should approach them on foot, hiding in the tall grasses.”
“Perez will be on his guard as he approaches Carrizo. Both are human with human needs.” Luke’s implication was to catch them at their most vulnerable, most likely when they had to answer nature’s call.
Smiling in agreement, Three Toes suggested they get some rest to be at full strength for the adventure of the next day.
***
Perez figured they must be very close to Carrizo. He turned to the woman. “Necesitras orinar?” He didn’t want to have to stop again for nature’s call.
Gretchen didn’t understand.
“Orinar!” He made a hand motion from his own crotch.
“Oh, that. Yes.”
Perez untied her hands and ankles. She stood to climb down from the wagon. He grabbed the blanket from her. He didn’t feel she’d be likely to run away if she had no cover. She stepped onto the ground and moved to the back of the wagon to relieve herself.
“Levanta tus manos!” A commanding voice in halting Irish-Spanish came out of the tall grass close to the wagon. Luke stepped forward with his rifle aimed at Perez.
The Mexican was incredulous. How could this be? Before him not ten yards away was the man he’d sworn to kill, not just kill but to do it as brutally as possible. But he was frozen in place. His anger was not enough to overcome his physical pain. He had no choice and complied with Luke’s command.
Gretchen reappeared from behind the wagon. She saw Luke and was determined to hide her near-nakedness. She reached up to grab the blanket from the wagon seat. As she did, it placed her between Perez and Luke’s line of sight.
It was the split second the bandit needed. He reached for the rifle next to the seat. As he did, there was the tell-tale whoosh as an arrow found its mark. Perez dropped the rifle, looking down at the arrow head sticking from the right side of his chest. At close range, Three Toes’ arrow had nearly gone clean through him. He slumped in the seat, gasping for breath.
Luke turned to Gretchen. “You okay, ma’am?”
She fainted.
Perez passed out. He was barely alive, so far as Luke could tell. With Three Toes’ help, they made room to lay Perez in the back of the wagon bed. His hands were tied behind him. They made no attempt to pull out the arrow. They searched a trunk, found some clothes for the woman, clothed her as best they could, and sat her behind the wagon seat.
They drove the wagon to Luke’s encampment, tied the extra horses to the back of the wagon, and turned north toward Laredo. Three Toes served as outrider with two of the horses tethered on leads behind him. They looked like a traveling circus. Now and then, Three Toes peeked inside the wagon to see whether Perez was still breathing. The Mexican bandit’s black hair made the Indian covet Perez’s scalp.
Gretchen finally came to. Luke had the good sense to fully cover Perez’s body, as it was close quarters in the wagon. She noticed that she was clothed. They hadn’t done a great job of dressing her, but at least she had her modesty back, and her hands weren’t bound. She stood, navigated the swaying wagon, and crawled onto the seat next to Luke. To her left was an Indian on horseback and driving the rig was a stranger.
“Who are you? Where are we going?” Her English was with a heavy German accent, but Luke understood.
“Howdy, ma’am. I’m Texas Ranger Captain Luke Dunn. My friend here is Three Toes, a chief of the Penateka Comanche. We’re headed toward Laredo to deposit Carlos Perez.” He smiled reassuringly. “We’re pleased to offer you safe passage.”
“How did you find me?”
“We’ve been tracking him from up near Corpus Christi. He left a clear trail, thanks to the broken wagon you found. What were you doing out on the Nueces Strip? I think I passed you a couple of days back.”
“We were looking to homestead.” She looked down sadly. “He murdered my husband. I killed the beast’s companion. He raped me.” Tears welled up in her eyes. She was finally able to release the pent-up emotions of her brush with death. For the moment, she could feel safe.
***
Scarlett awoke to banging outside. Something was being hammered. She looked out the window and could just about make out Rex and Stephen fixing the corral gate. She asked herself why on earth they had to
make so much noise so early?
Mrs. Rucker was in the kitchen with a servant when Scarlett arrived for breakfast. “It’s about time you woke up, Scarlett. We begin our days early.” She flashed a smile tinged with annoyance.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I’ll try to remember that.” She sat at the table, and a plate of eggs and ham were placed before her. She picked up her fork.
“We usually say a blessing around here.”
Scarlett dropped her chin, closed her eyes for a moment, and pretended to pray. Soon enough, she was eating ravenously.
“The Colonel and I are going away for a couple of days. It will give you a chance to get acquainted with the boys.”
Scarlett chewed on that. She wondered what fantasy world this woman was living in. Her “boys” were full-grown men physically, and her husband was a philanderer-to-be up to no good as concerned their new housekeeper. “I think I can handle them, Mrs. Rucker.”
“They need to do their book learning. They generally do that in the library. The Colonel also likes them to practice their horsemanship. He’s of a mind that they follow his lead, going to West Point. He’s convinced that the Army will soon be adding cavalry officers.” Mrs. Rucker leaned forward and softened her voice to a near whisper. “Be sure they don’t bring any women here to the ranch. They’re getting to that age.” She smiled patronizingly. She was clearly oblivious to Scarlett’s past. Scarlett wondered whether she knew what the colonel knew. She realized that Austin may not be far enough north; not far enough away from her past.
***
Whelan finally arrived in Austin. To his knowledge, the only hotel was the Bullock House and that was far too pricey for his now meager pocketbook. To his way of figuring, he’d need to check out the Bullock as a woman with some gold coin might have spent a night or two at the place. Being unfamiliar with the Texas capital, he thought his best option was to find a saloon to get his bearings and possibly find a room. To his mind, a brothel would do.
After a bit of exploring and asking passersby, he found a livery stable and directions to the best saloon in the city. He sauntered on down Congress Avenue and walked through a pair of swinging doors into the saloon. The place was alive with mostly men playing cards and drinking. The bar was the longest he’d ever seen.
Nueces Justice Page 21