No Way Up

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No Way Up Page 21

by Mary Connealy


  Heath would have made a move, but he didn’t dare. Sadie stood closest to the intruder, right in the line of deadly fire. The first bullet would hit her.

  “Is that you, Ramone?” Cole spoke from where he stood next to Sadie. He made a very subtle move, a mere shifting of his feet. He eased forward and leaned so that his shoulders blocked Sadie, putting himself between his sister and those guns.

  “Alto! No move.”

  Heath’s eyes had adjusted to the dark. He could just make out Ramone’s hands; they were trembling. Did this show of nerves mean the man wasn’t a killer? And did that make them safer? Or did it make him more dangerous? A nervous man might accidentally twitch and pull the trigger.

  They all stood, frozen in place.

  “I live in my padre’s hacienda. You no belong here.” The words sounded like a mix of anger and despair, each in equal measure. “You have taken all from me.”

  The guns lifted slightly, as if his distress were more than he could bear, and all he had left was to hand out death and destruction.

  “Padre, no!” Out of the dark the words rose, making no sense to Heath. And then he recognized the voice.

  The CR ramrod Alonzo. Calling Ramone his padre. Father.

  Heath’s thoughts began spinning as he listened to a man he thought he knew well admit to being someone completely different.

  Not Alonzo Deval, but Alonzo de Val.

  “It is me, Padre, your son. I can’t let you shoot.” Alonzo centered himself in one of the gaping windows, his gun leveled.

  Heath saw the darkness was fading, the distant sky turning a faint gray. The dawn was upon them. He could now make out Alonzo’s features in the window. His gun was pointed at his father.

  It twisted Heath’s gut to think of a son shooting down his own pa. Even worse, Heath could hear the affection Alonzo held for the man. But a resolve was there, too. Alonzo was set on protecting them.

  “Put down the gun, Padre, and talk to me. The Bodens mean you no harm.”

  A taut silence followed. Ramone’s guns were still on them. His hands still trembled for what seemed like several minutes. As the light increased a bit, Heath saw Ramone’s face a tad more clearly. He appeared to be handsome, very much an older version of his son.

  Alonzo spoke calmly, reminding Heath of the gently flowing waters of the Cimarron. “I know your goodness, Padre. I know what they accuse you of. And I know you are innocent. You are safe if you put down the guns. I have worked for the Bodens and heard them say they mean you no harm. But they want answers. That’s why they are here.”

  Ramone’s pistols remained leveled and cocked.

  “I have no wish to shoot you, mi padre. It would break my heart. But I will not let you kill these good men and their good sister. Please talk to the Bodens. Tell them—and tell me—what happened that day. You are not a killer. But if you pull that trigger, all that was done to Señor Chastain will be blamed on you.”

  In a broken voice, Alonzo went on. “I watched the direction the Bodens went, and it took me only moments to know where they were headed and suspect they had found you right here. I’m a fool to not have thought of it and come to check on you. Like you, I came to try to regain our land, Padre, but I have failed.”

  “Deval, instead of de Val,” Sadie said. “Don Bautista de Val. His son, Ramone, who worked for us without speaking of who he really was, who vanished the day my grandfather was killed. And now Alonzo Deval.”

  Heath sure wished Sadie would shut up. Why draw the attention of these men to the lone woman in their midst?

  “It is Ramone Alonzo de Val Jr., Miss Sadie.” Alonzo said it as if he were formally introducing himself.

  “You all came here in secret in la noche.” Ramone’s harsh answer echoed in the room. “And my own son rode with you. My own son is a traitor.”

  “Ramone,” Heath said in what he hoped was a tone that didn’t make the man’s trigger finger itchy, “we came to talk with you, not hurt you. We believe that you had no part in Frank Chastain’s killing, but we think you know who did. Or at least know something about that day that will help us find out who did. Whoever killed that fine old man is still here, still aiming to kill more Bodens and hang that killing on you. We need to find out what you saw that day so we can stop the men who shot Chastain and set that rockslide on Chance Boden.”

  “Nada can stop them. El hombres are powerful, with mucho amigos even mas dangerous than el diablo.”

  “Please put down the guns, Ramone,” Cole said. “Like Heath said, we will not harm you. In fact, we want to save you—and in the process save ourselves.”

  “That’s right. And step out of the doorway,” Justin added. “We think the men after you could be coming at any time. We came in the night because we hoped to catch you asleep. So we could avoid drawn guns, like we have now.”

  There was a long hesitation. Ramone glanced over his shoulder before finally lowering the pistols. He stepped inside and put a wall between him and whatever terrors were held in the breaking dawn.

  Heath watched the man move about, then a scratch ripped through the silence and a light popped into view. A single match was almost blinding.

  Ramone rustled around, and then a lantern’s blue light danced. When he put the glass chimney in place, the room lit up. It seemed as bright as day after the long hours in the darkness. Heath saw Ramone’s face clearly for the first time.

  It was ruined. An ugly scar deformed the whole left side. Ramone had been looking at his son when Heath had first made out his handsome features. But now, looking straight on, Heath saw the brutal scars on the left side of his face. His eye showed white in its socket. The scar was wide and thick—as if it’d never been stitched—and ran from his forehead to his chin. For all that, Ramone moved easily, with grace, despite the trembling.

  Heath then saw the rest of him.

  Ramone was filthy, his clothing in tatters. His fingernails were caked with dirt. He had long hair that hung down in greasy coils. Beyond the filth, he was skin and bone. Suffering and want were etched on his face.

  “Mi papa,” Alonzo said, then disappeared from the window. His footsteps pounded as he rushed around the house. Seconds later, he was inside and pulling his father into his arms.

  After a long hug, Alonzo pulled back from his father with such gentleness, Ramone’s emaciated body looked even more fragile.

  “I came to do just as you had planned,” Alonzo said to his father. “To marry the daughter of the household.” Alonzo gave Sadie a longing glance. “I wanted to regain at least a portion of the land for the descendants of Bautista de Val.” His eyes shifted to Heath. “But it was not to be.”

  Heath saw Justin and Cole react to that, but he didn’t have time to deal with them right now.

  Alonzo asked his father, “Why didn’t you speak to me, tell me you had come back?”

  “I could not. They kill you if they know you are mi hijo.”

  Cole approached the son and his pa. “I don’t know if you remember me, Ramone, but I remember you—just barely and I heard your name for years. When you left, there were plenty that suspected you of killing Grandfather Chastain, but my mother never did. She always thought you’d been chased away. While you may not have won her heart, she believed in your decency.” For just a moment, Cole hesitated. He then asked, “Is that scar of yours left from the day my grandfather was murdered? Was Ma right? You were forced to run?”

  Ramone’s knees gave out. Alonzo reached out and caught his pa and held him. The man would have ended up flat on the floor if his son hadn’t braced him up.

  “Has anyone got any food?” Alonzo asked frantically.

  “No, we came in on foot.” Sadie frowned, glanced at her brothers. “Do any of you have jerky or anything left in your saddlebags?”

  They all shook their heads.

  Justin said, “Let’s get him back to the CR. We can take care of him there.”

  Ramone seemed to relax some. “You’re really not going to kill
me?”

  Sadie rushed over to Ramone’s side. Heath followed, still wary of the man and mindful that someone was definitely after the Bodens, including Ramone maybe. Killers who might even now be waiting to dry-gulch them. They were by no means safe, and he didn’t intend to be too far away from Sadie until they were.

  “No,” Sadie assured him again, “we’re going to protect you, Ramone, and stop the men who are after all of us.”

  “That’s right,” Cole said.

  “Thank you.” Ramone gathered his strength. “Yes, Cole, I remember you. You tagged your padre day and night. We all liked having a little one around. The new niño with the handsome father who turned my Veronica’s head. I remember it well. From the moment your father came to the Cimarron Ranch, Señorita Chastain had eyes for no one but him. More than that, she loved you. I think she would have married your father just to get you for a son.”

  Heath was jealous of Cole being surrounded by that kind of family.

  He’d had it with his brothers and his ma before she died. But Cole had it his whole life. Of course, Mrs. Boden was Cole’s stepma. So Cole had lost a mother, too.

  “Before you and your padre came,” Ramone said, “I had hopes that I could win her heart. I never meant to hurt the beautiful señorita. I had no bad wishes for her and would have been good to her all her life. But along with wanting her, I wanted a piece of what I’d been denied.”

  Ramone swallowed hard, and Heath almost asked if they could carry him to the Cimarron for a drink of cool water. But they’d be exposed. Once they moved out of here, he wanted to go fast.

  “Even with a new beau, I believed I had once found favor in Veronica’s eyes, so I did not give up my pursuit of her. The day Mr. Chastain was shot, I was there. I deliberately waylaid him on the trail to ask for Veronica’s hand or at least be given permission to court her. Your grandfather had just come from a meeting with one of the governor’s men. Señor Frank was very upset. When he saw me, a man he trusted, he told me much of what had happened. They were going to take the Cimarron Ranch. They were using Señor Frank’s French-Canadian heritage against him, adding in his years of Mexican citizenship. He was American by then, and that had satisfied Señor Dantalion for a time because he’d been busy pushing all the other land-grant owners off their lands.”

  “Dantalion?” Cole’s voice was intense, and Heath was struck by how smart he was. Cole wasn’t a man of the land, not fully, but he had a fine mind and he knew the law. “I don’t know that name. But you say he worked at the governor’s behest?”

  “I only heard your abuelo say Dantalion, no first name.” Ramone used the Mexican word for grandfather. “Your abuelo said this man used power allowed him by being close to the governor. He said the governor was a decent man and didn’t know the things that were being done in his name. And Señor Frank had tried to see him, but was always blocked. He had been paying bribes for years and that had kept the wolves from the door. But Señor Dantalion had finished with his other schemes. He had stripped away land grants, driven owners away, and handed the land over to his amigos. He shifted his attention to the Cimarron Ranch. Dantalion had told your abuelo that the governor wanted the land to be held by an American. Beyond that, the governor turned a blind eye and let Dantalion do as he pleased.”

  “And when you heard that,” Sadie said, “you knew you had no hope of gaining Grandfather’s permission to court his daughter.”

  “No hope. He had to have a fully American son-in-law. And he needed to find such a man fast. Your padre was right, so I did not ask. To reveal my interest in Veronica would lead to being cast from el rancho.”

  “But how did Grandfather die?”

  “We had dismounted. Your grandfather’s horse was weary from a long ride. We walked along the trail, letting our horses rest, and all of this poured out—his worry, his anger. That is when three men with rifles stepped out in our path.”

  “Dantalion,” Cole said in disgust.

  “Yes, your abeulo spoke his name. He had a look of wealth about him. A black suit, a flat-topped black hat with Mexican trim. He had eyes black as night and hair just as dark.

  “Señor Frank had said he was just returning from a meeting with them. He knew it ended badly, but he expected thievery of his land, not an attack. There was no hope we could win a gunfight with our weapons holstered and their pistolas aimed and cocked. Dantalion began threatening Señor Frank, telling him he had to leave the CR. But I saw muerte in his eyes. I knew he had not come to talk, but to kill. His words were taunts as he approached us. When he got close, I took a wild chance and jumped for his gun. I managed to shove it upward so that when he fired, he missed. Your grandfather had his gun out and fired. He shot one of the men while the other ran. For a moment I thought we would win. But then Dantalion came around with a knife and slashed my face and knocked me to the ground. He then shot Señor Frank at close range.”

  “Why did he leave you both alive?”

  “He thought your abuelo was dead, so he paid him no mind. He knelt on my chest as I lay there, half blind and bleeding. He said he was a respected man and no one would believe he’d done this crime. He’d be the man sent to investigate, and he’d make sure I was blamed. I’d hang.”

  Ramone hesitated for a long moment before he spoke again. “He gave me the option to run or die right there on the spot. I ran. I know that makes me a coward, but he was right. I could tell by the way he spoke and moved that he had power and I had none. I got on my horse and rode for Mexico. I heard much later that Señor Frank had lived for a short time, and that Veronica had married Chance and held the rancho somehow.”

  “Why did you come back now?” Cole asked.

  “My padre died. He left me nothing. His esposa always hated me, and though she was cruel to me, in many ways I could not blame her. I was proof of the Don’s infidelity, and I knew it went on long after he had abandoned my mother. I was run off like a cur dog. My own beloved esposa, Alonzo’s mama, is long dead and probably glad to be done with me.”

  “Don’t talk so, Padre,” Alonzo said. “Mamacita loved you. You gave me and my sisters a good home.”

  “Thank you, hijo. Yes, your mama was a fine woman. My daughters have married and are happy. My only son had gone wandering, and I suspected he came here.” Ramone glanced again at Sadie and looked sheepish. “It had been so long, I believed the danger would be past. And then my horse stepped in a rabbit hole in the desert and broke his leg. He died and I went on, on foot. A rugged journey. And I’ve learned to stay away from strangers because of my terrible scars. When I finally got here, to my padre’s hacienda, it felt like the end of the road. A ruin fit for the son of an immoral man. I managed to see Maria once, and she gave me food. But I haven’t the strength to go back to her. I knew Alonzo was here somewhere, but I didn’t have the will to hunt. My food ran out days ago. Still, I have lived on by fishing in the Cimarron. Yet I could never catch enough to satisfy. I didn’t want to show myself, so I’ve been sneaking around in the dark. Like a nighttime creature, I’ve lived mostly in a hole in the ground.”

  Heath glanced at the cellar.

  “Those days are over, Ramone.” Sadie rested her hand on the man’s bony shoulder. “You will come home with us. We will protect you, and what you’ve witnessed will help protect us. We will face whoever is after us, be it Dantalion or someone who is under his influence. And we will make the CR safe for my father so that when he returns, it will be to peace.”

  The sun was fully up now. Heath knew it was safer to ride in the light of day, though he didn’t fool himself that the danger was over. “I’ll go fetch the horses.” He rounded the small crowd gathered around Ramone. When he reached the door, Justin snagged his arm.

  “Hold up. You’re not going alone.”

  “It’s all right. Whoever’s out there is after you Bodens. And it looks like Ramone, too. They won’t waste any bullets on me because you’re under cover and that would warn you. If we all went together, it might be okay
as well, because they could see me and be warned. But Ramone can’t walk—”

  “No, Kincaid, and stop trying to take care of us. You and I will go together.”

  Heath had a wild urge to laugh. “Fine, boss, risk your neck. But I’m right.”

  “I tied my horse near yours,” Alonzo said. “I’ll come too.”

  “Let’s go.” Justin rushed out the door ahead of him, the idiot.

  The three of them ran for the horses.

  26

  Sadie was so relieved to see Heath come back, it took her a second to realize she was happy to see Justin, too. Alonzo also, mostly.

  Justin and Heath, their guns drawn, stayed out to cover the horses. Cole and Alonzo got Ramone to his feet again. They each slid one of the ailing man’s arms around their neck and helped him to a horse.

  Sadie brought up the rear. Once they got Ramone on Alonzo’s horse, he looked steady enough to ride on his own.

  Heath grinned. “Sadie can ride with me, and Alonzo can take her horse.”

  The explosion wasn’t long in coming. Sadie found herself snatched up and plunked in front of Cole, and they rode out. Sadie leaned around her brother and smiled back at Heath.

  “Stay sharp,” Justin hissed, as if annoyed with anyone daring to smile.

  He was probably right.

  They set a good pace, and the trail, winding around clumps of aspen and through lush winter grass pastures, was quiet.

  “We should go that way.” Ramone pointed to a spot ahead that was nothing more than thick woods leading to a steep incline.

  “What’s up there?” Cole rode up to the right side of Ramone.

  Alonzo was on the left. He’d rarely left his father’s side, only when they reached a stretch of the trail too narrow to ride two abreast.

  “It’s a shortcut to el rancho.”

  Sadie tried to imagine the way the trail might go, but she’d ridden over in the dark, and the trail—one she’d traveled only a couple of times in her life—twisted and turned until all she did was follow it without any idea which direction they were going.

 

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