The Ghost Riders

by James J. Griffin

  “Everything was delicious,” Mary Jane added. “Julia, if you wouldn’t mind, perhaps you might give me some tips about cooking. My mother’s a good cook, and I’m all right, but I’d love to learn to cook and bake like you.”

  “I’d be delighted to do that,” Julia said. “Now, let’s not worry about the dishes until later. They can wait. Let’s go into the living room. I want to hear all about your trip.”

  ● ● ●

  It was close to midnight before the newlyweds and Julia called it a night. Charlie and Mary Jane went to his old room. Charlie knelt alongside the bed to say his nighttime prayers, then undressed and slid under the covers. He turned to Mary Jane, wrapped his arms around her, and began kissing her throat. Mary Jane responded, running her fingers along his ribs, holding him more tightly to her. Without warning, Charlie pulled back.

  “Charlie, what’s wrong?” Mary Jane asked.

  “I… I can’t,” Charlie said, stammering.

  “What do you mean, you can’t?” Mary Jane asked. “You’re not hurt, or sick, are you? Or is it something I did, or said?”

  “It’s not that at all, Mary Jane. It’s just that, well, my ma’s just down the hall. What if she hears us? I can’t make love to you with her only a few feet away?”

  “Charlie, that’s just silly,” Mary Jane said. “We’re newly married. Your mother knows what that means. Besides, do you mean to tell me you don’t believe your mother and father made love while you were sleeping right here in this room, just down the hall from them?”

  “I don’t even want to think about that,” Charlie answered. “All I know is making love to you in this house just won’t work. I’m sorry, but it won’t.”

  “Well, you’re my husband, and I want to make love to you, and I mean right now, Charlie.”

  “I… I just can’t do it,” Charlie insisted. “But I have an idea. Why don’t we go to our own house and make love?”

  “Our house?” Mary Jane said. “We don’t have a house, not yet. Not even a foundation. All that’s out there are the corner stakes and some strings where the walls will go.”

  “That’s right,” Charlie said. “Which means we have the soft grass for our bed, the skies, stars, and moon for our ceiling. It can’t get more romantic than that. What do you say, Mary Jane?”

  “If that’s all it will take to get you to make love to me, then why are we still lying here?”

  Charlie and Mary Jane hastily threw on their clothes, except for Charlie’s boots and Mary Jane’s shoes, then tiptoed down the hall, into the kitchen. Pal was sleeping next to the stove. He lifted his head and thumped his tail against the floor.

  “Shh, Pal,” Charlie softly warned the dog. “We don’t want to wake Ma up. Go back to sleep.”

  He and Mary Jane slipped out the door. Lying in her bedroom, Julia, having heard them trying to walk through the house without waking her, rolled onto her side, with a knowing smile on her face.

  “We’d better walk,” Charlie said, as he and Mary Jane sat on the porch swing, to pull on their footwear. “The horses would be sure to make a ruckus that Ma would hear, if we tried to get them. Besides, it’s not all that far.”

  “I’d rather walk anyway,” Mary Jane said. “It’s a lovely evening, Charlie.”

  Indeed, the night air was warm, with a refreshing breeze taking the edge off the day’s heat. Stars were sprinkled across the black curtain of the sky, and a crescent moon was just beginning its climb from the eastern horizon. Eager with anticipation, Charlie and Mary Jane walked hurriedly to where their new house would be built, upstream and across the creek from his boyhood home.

  “Charlie, we forgot about crossing the creek,” Mary Jane exclaimed, when they reached its bank. “Our clothes will get soaked, and my dress will be ruined.”

  “That’s not a problem,” Charlie said. He began to strip out of his clothes, pulling off his shirt, then unbuttoning his denims.

  “Charlie! What if someone sees us?”

  “Now who’s bein’ silly? Who’s gonna see us? The horses, or mebbe a coyote?” Charlie sat down to pull off his socks and boots. “Of course, we don’t have to cross the stream, if you don’t want to. We can make love right here.”

  “No. You put the idea of making love in our new house in my head, and I want to do just that.” Mary Jane hastily unbuttoned her dress, and let it slip to her ankles. She stepped out of it, then sat alongside Charlie to remove her shoes. He leaned over and kissed her.

  “Not yet, Charlie,” she admonished him. “In the house.” She stood up and walked into the creek, which was shallow at this spot. Further upstream it deepened into a good-sized swimming hole.

  “Wait for me,” Charlie called after her. He splashed into the water. A few minutes later, they were at the site of the new house.

  “Where’s the bedroom going to be, again?” Mary Jane asked.

  “Right over there. That corner,” Charlie answered.

  “Then that’s where we should make love.” Mary Jane took his hand and led him to the spot he’d indicated. She turned and kissed him.

  “Wait just one minute. I want to look at you first, under the stars,” Charlie said. He backed away two steps, and stood there, drinking in Mary Jane’s beauty under the dim light of the stars and moon. She seemed to glow under that soft light. All the features of her body were there for him to see. In this light, she appeared even more lovely than Charlie had ever imagined.

  “My Lord, you’re a beautiful woman, Mary Jane,” he exclaimed.

  “Why thank you, Charlie,” she answered. “And might I say, you are a very handsome man.”

  For her part, Mary Jane had been studying Charlie’s body, his broad shoulders, muscular chest, and flat belly. Sometimes it had been difficult for the both of them, staying true to their vows to remain celibate until after their marriage, especially when Charlie came home after weeks on the trail. However, after their honeymoon, and looking at him now, Mary Jane realized it was worth the wait. She trembled when Charlie hugged her to him.

  “Now, we’re alone. It’s time,” he said, as he lowered her gently to the grass, then molded his body to hers.

  ● ● ●

  “Mary Jane,” Charlie said, after their lovemaking session was over. They were lying side by side in the grass, looking up at the stars. “Why don’t we go for a swim?”

  “Now?” Mary Jane said.

  “Why not? It will cool us off. And it will be our first swim together. But not our last, if I have anythin’ to say about it.”

  “Well, it seems like a fine idea to me.”

  “Good. Let’s go.” Charlie stood up, then pulled Mary Jane to her feet. A few minutes later, they were at the swimming hole. Charlie dove right in. Mary Jane was right behind him. They swam to a boulder which was just underwater, in the middle of the creek, and sat there, letting the gently flowing water wash over them.

  “I’m sure glad to see you jump right in,” Charlie said. “Most gals won’t do that. They’ll stand on the side of the creek, dippin’ their toes in the water and hollerin’ about how cold it is. Them that even swim at all, that is.”

  “And just how do you know about girls and swimming?” Mary Jane demanded. “How many girls have you gone swimming with, Charlie?”

  “None… none at all,” Charlie stammered. “That’s just what I heard tell.”

  “You’re not fooling me one bit,” Mary Jane retorted. “Just remember this. I don’t care how many girls you’ve been swimming with in the past. But you’re my husband now, and I’d better never catch you swimming with anyone but me, Charlie!”

  She pushed him off the rock. Charlie went under, came up spluttering, and pulled her into the water with him. He kissed her, hard.

  “Does that tell you how I feel about you?” he asked.

  “I’m not certain,” Mary Jane answered. “Perhaps you should try again.”

  “All right.” Charlie kissed her again. They clung to each other, letting the current pull the
m along, until it brought them to the bank.

  “Mary Jane, now you look even more beautiful, if that’s possible,” Charlie said. Her damp flesh glistened in the moon and starlight. Her wet hair hung loosely over her shoulders and down her breasts. “I have to have you again, right here.”

  ● ● ●

  “Charlie,” Mary Jane said, sometime later. They’d fallen asleep in each other’s arms, alongside the creek. “What’s that gray light, over near the eastern horizon?”

  “That? That’s the false dawn,” Charlie murmured, sleepily. “C’mere and give me a kiss.”

  “The false dawn!” Charlie sat bolt upright. “That means it’ll be light soon. Mary Jane, we have to go. Now! We’ve gotta get back before my mother wakes up. It sure wouldn’t do for us to walk in on her lookin’ like this. And I have to get to Headquarters. Cap’n Storm’ll have my hide if I’m late.”

  “Oh, my goodness!” Mary Jane said. “We’d better hurry.”

  They jumped up, and raced for where they’d left their clothes.

  10

  Charlie arrived at Ranger Headquarters shortly after eight. He dismounted, looped Splash’s reins around the hitch rail, then gave his paint a pat on the shoulder and a piece of leftover biscuit. Splash nickered, then pressed his nose against Charlie’s ribs.

  “Take it easy there, feller,” Charlie said. “I didn’t get much sleep last night. I’m so doggone tired a feather could probably knock me over. You just wait here. I don’t know how long I’ll be.” He rubbed some sleep from his eyes, slapped the dust from his hat, shirt and denims, then went inside. A short walk down a wainscoted corridor brought him to Captain Earl Storm’s office. Also in the office with the captain was Charlie’s longtime best friend, and now fellow Ranger, Ty Tremblay.

  “Mornin’, Cap’n. Howdy, Ty,” Charlie said.

  “Howdy, Charlie,” Ty answered.

  “Mornin’, Charlie, it’s good to have you back,” Storm said, coming from behind his battered walnut desk to shake the young Ranger’s hand. “How was your trip? And how’s that lovely lady you got hitched to, Mary Jane? How’s married life suit you?”

  “Our trip was just fine, Cap’n,” Charlie said. “Galveston’s real pretty. Mary Jane is well, too. Thanks for askin’. And so far married life suits me just fine.”

  “I can see that,” Storm said. He winked, and nudged Charlie in the ribs with his elbow. “From the looks of you, you haven’t been gettin’ much sleep.”

  “Not as much as usual, no,” Charlie admitted, smiling. To himself he thought, And it’s sure worth it.

  “I’m sorry I had to bring you back to work soon as your leave was up, but with all the trouble in Texas right now, we’re short-handed,” Storm apologized. “I hated to drag you away from your pretty new bride, but it couldn’t be helped.”

  “That’s all right, Cap’n. Mary Jane understands,” Charlie said. “And I’m ready to get back on the trail. Guess I’m kinda like my pa that way. I’m fiddle-footed, just like him.”

  “Fine, fine,” Storm said. “Pour yourself a cup of coffee and pull up a chair. I promise you, unless somethin’ goes wrong, the assignment I’m handin’ you and Ty shouldn’t last more’n a couple of weeks, probably less. Then you’ll be back here, and should have a few days at home before I need to send you off again.”

  “All right.”

  Charlie took a tin mug from the corner shelf, lifted the old and much-dented coffee pot from the stove, and poured himself a cupful of the thick, bitter black brew. He settled into a worn leather chair opposite Storm’s desk.

  “All comfortable? Good,” Storm said. He picked up a single sheet of paper, adjusted the spectacles perched on the tip of his nose, and scanned its contents.

  “Boys, it’s been a long while since I’ve had to assign any of my Rangers to prisoner escort duty, but I’ve got that chore now,” he said. “Seems the sheriff up in Brown County has done gone and rounded himself up the Haskell gang.”

  “The Haskells?” Ty said. “You mean those four brothers, and their two cousins, who are still fightin’ the War?”

  “That’s right,” Storm said. “Ezekiel, Joshua, Samuel, and Obadiah Haskell, along with their cousins, Moses and Isaac.” He shook his head. “Seems their mamas gave all those boys names straight from the Old Testament, but they sure didn’t take. Those hombres are poison mean, ornery as wolves and slipperier than a gator. Is that a word, slipperier? Well, it don’t matter, it fits the Haskells. And of course they claim they’re still fightin’ injustices done to ’em after the war, but that’s just an excuse for their robbin’, burnin’, thievin’, and killin’. However, that’s all over now, as long as we can get ’em to Huntsville. That’s where you two come in. You’ll head for Brownwood, take custody of the Haskells, escort ’em to Huntsville, then ride back here. Simple enough.”

  “If it’s all that simple, why can’t the Brown County sheriff have a couple of his deputies handle this chore?” Charlie asked.

  “Because his jurisdiction ends at the county line. And it would be a real problem tryin’ to get the sheriffs of every county from Brown to Walker to provide escorts through each county. Also, of course every exchange at the county lines is more of a chance for those boys to escape.”

  “Why not just have ’em hauled by rail?” Ty asked. “Or why didn’t Huntsville send up a prison wagon and detachment of guards to haul those boys off?”

  “It seems none of the railroads want any part of that. The Haskells are plumb dangerous, as you well know, and the railroads don’t want them on any trains, seein’ as innocent folks might get killed if the Haskells try’n make a break for it. They’ve still got kinfolk who will probably attempt to help ’em escape. That’s also one reason the warden at Huntsville wouldn’t send his men to get ’em. That, and like has happened to the Rangers, budget cuts have him short staffed. I should probably also mention the Brown County sheriff lost three deputies and four posse members capturin’ that bunch. So the job falls to us.”

  “That is a small detail we appreciate knowin’, Cap’n,” Charlie said.

  “Seems like this simple little assignment ain’t all that simple after all,” Ty said, dryly.

  “If I thought you two couldn’t handle it I wouldn’t hand it to you,” Storm answered. “Just remember, be careful. At the first sign of any trouble, you start shootin’. If you have to, bring in the Haskells’ dead bodies, full of lead. Clear things up after the smoke settles. Now, unless you have any questions, you should get started. I won’t rest easy until I know the Haskells are in Huntsville, safe behind bars.” He shook his head. “I can’t figure why the judge didn’t just have those good-for nothin’ s.o.b.’s hung, but he didn’t, sentenced ’em to life in Huntsville instead, so it’s falls to us to make sure they get there. I’m countin’ on you two. Anythin’ else you need to know?

  “I’ve got nothin’ I can think of,” Charlie said. “Just let Mary Jane know about how long you’ll think I’ll be gone.”

  “I’ll do that,” Storm promised.

  “I’ve got nothin’ to ask either,” Ty said.

  “Good. Here’s your orders.” Storm handed the paper to Charlie. “You’ll report to Sheriff Merle Thornsby up in Brown County. He’ll have a team and wagon ready for you. Make sure you keep those Haskells in chains at all times, when they eat, when they sleep, even when they have to relieve themselves. No matter how much they whine and complain, you keep ’em in those chains, hear? Telegraph me as soon as you reach Brownwood, and every chance you get along the way. It’ll be your decision whether you want to put those hombres up in a town jail when you have the chance, or keep ’em out of towns, as much as possible, and away from folks. I’d say the more places you can avoid, the better. The only thing I can add is Adios, and good luck.”

  “Guess we’ll be ridin’, Cap’n,” Charlie said. He got up, and placed his empty mug on the shelf. “Wait a minute. I do have one more question, now that I think of it. My mother tells me my pa is aft
er the outfit callin’ themselves the Ghost Riders. Any word from him, or any more news about that bunch? I read about ’em in the Galveston paper. They sound like a rough bunch to tangle with.”

  “Not recently,” Storm said. “Your pa, Smoky McCue, and J.R. Huggins are somewhere west of Brady, tryin’ to locate that gang. Far as them bein’ ghost riders, folks hung that handle on ’em, although I’m certain it suits ’em. And once your pa and his pardners catch up with those hombres, they’ll prove they ain’t no ghosts.”

  “I’m certain of that,” Charlie said. “And don’t worry about the Haskells. Me’n Ty will get ’em to Huntsville. Bet your hat on that.”

  “All right, Charlie, Ty. See you in a couple of weeks.”

  “See you then, Cap’n,” Ty said. “C’mon, Charlie, let’s head on out.”

  He and Ty went back to their horses, untied them, mounted, and backed them away from the rail. Ten minutes later, they were loping past the city limits of Austin.

  The Blawcyzk and Tremblay families owned adjoining ranches in San Leanna. Charlie and Ty had practically grown up together. They were just about the same age, Ty being a few months older. They had played together, hunted and explored together, swum and fished together. They had fought together, and sometimes against each other, but were always soon fast friends again. They had sampled their first hard liquor together, tried smoking for the first time together, although both quickly decided they wanted no part of tobacco. They’d even been together the first time both of them had kissed girls, behind the schoolhouse after a town social. For years, folks in San Leanna said wherever you found Charlie, you were certain to find Ty, or vice versa. They had even joined the Rangers at the same time, after Charlie’s father, Jim, had been shot and badly wounded by a Ranger turned killer.[i] That close friendship was one reason Captain Storm decided to give the pair the assignment of getting the Haskell gang from Brownwood to Huntsville Prison, despite their relative youth. Each almost always knew what the other was thinking, and could anticipate the other’s moves. If they were indeed attacked by any of the Haskells’ kin, bent on breaking them free, Charlie and Ty would be certain to act as one man, anticipating what each other would do. If the Haskells somehow did manage to escape, they and their relatives would pay a high price. Several, if not most, of them would die in the attempt, for Charlie and Ty would not stop fighting until bullets finally ripped the lives out of them.