“Neither do me’n Chuck,” Eddie added.
“I don’t think any of us do,” Smoky said.
“All right, that’s clear,” Jim said. “Now, Mary Jane was able to give us two names, and a good description of one of the men. One is called Stonefield, accordin’ to what she heard. The other one is Cannon. Now, Cannon’s a pretty common name, so that’s not much help. Stonefield’s not nearly heard of as much, and that name’s kinda familiar to me. I just can’t place it. Any of you familiar with a Cannon or Stonefield you think might be connected with this outfit?”
Jim’s question was met with a shaking of heads and murmuring of “nos”.
“That’s what I suspected. Well, mebbe this description of Cannon which Mary Jane gave me might jog someone’s memory. He’s tall and heavy. Has a good sized gut, accordin’ to what she said. He’s got sorta reddish hair, and light brown eyes that look kinda’ yellowish. But what’s most noticeable is he’s got two scars, probably knife scars, from Mary Jane’s description. The first one runs down his left cheek, from under his eye almost to his chin. The second one’s down low on his belly. It slices across his groin, and a little way down the side of his penis. Mary Jane saw that when he attempted to force himself on her. My guess is both those scars came from an angry husband, or boyfriend. I’d bet my hat this Cannon snake has molested women before. We know both of them survived. Mary Jane said they did, and so did Marcy Pratt. When I talked to her, she confirmed Mary Jane’s story.”
“That’s all well and good, Jim, but I don’t think, if we run across this Cannon hombre, we’ll be able to convince him to drop his pants so we can take a look,” Smoky said. “I think he might object to that.”
“That don’t matter,” Charlie answered. “When we do find that lousy son of a bitch, I’ll tear his pants clean off. Then I’ll cut off his nuts and feed ’em to him. He’ll never touch another woman again. Sorry, Dad, for the language. I know you don’t like cussin’.”
“Charlie, I think this is one time I can make an exception. I know exactly how you feel,” Jim said, then continued. “Unfortunately, that’s about all we have to go on. I know it’s eatin’ at each and every one of us, feelin’ so helpless, but unless those Ghost Riders make a slip, or someone stumbles across ’em and lives to tell about it, we’ll just have to wait until they hit again before we can pick up their trail.”
“However, we’re not just goin’ to sit around on our butts, waitin’ for that to happen,” Captain Storm said. “I’ve already wired Headquarters, and telegrams are being sent to every law enforcement agency in the state, with the descriptions of the men Jim just gave you. Also, tomorrow morning, I’m heading back to Austin. I’ve already got several clerks working on pulling the files of anyone who may be in our records with the name of Cannon or Stonefield, or anyone who might match Cannon’s description. I want you men to remain here in San Leanna, for one more day, to see if there might be something we’ve overlooked. Then, I’ll expect you in Austin first thing the next mornin’. I want you ready to move the minute we receive any possible information about the whereabouts of the Ghost Riders. Charlie, that doesn’t apply to you, if you’d rather remain here with your wife. We’d all understand.”
“Me’n Mary Jane have already had this discussion, Cap’n,” Charlie answered. “I’ll be ridin’ with the rest of you.”
“Bueno,” Storm said. “Now, unless there are any questions, I’d highly recommend y’all get some rest. I have a feelin’ you’re gonna need it.”
● ● ●
Charlie went back to town to be with Mary Jane. Smoky and Ty returned to their own homes, while the men staying at the J-B Bar settled into their beds for the night. Knowing there would only be one more night with his wife before he left, for who knew how long, Jim made passionate love to her, not worrying about their house guests.
The next morning they returned to San Leanna. Jim’s first stop was at Doctor Watson’s, for a brief visit with Mary Jane and Charlie. Watson reported that Mary Jane was improving every day. Jim, Smoky and Ty took the time to visit the graves of their friends who had been killed in the raid. After that, they rejoined their partners, to once again question the survivors of the raid, and comb yet again through the ruins, hoping to find the least little clue which might bring them closer to finding the Ghost Riders. They turned up nothing.
With their search for the murderous gang stymied, the anxious lawmen spent a restless night. Ordinarily, the Rangers went about their jobs stoically, not losing sleep when a hunt became frustrating, where every lead seemed to turn into a dead end. However, the Ghost Riders were by far the worst outlaws Jim and his partners had ever come across. They wanted to stop them before they could strike again. And, of course, for Jim, Smoky, and especially Charlie, the attack on San Leanna, the killings of so many of their friends, and the near rape and near murder of Charlie’s wife, made this assignment personal. None of them would rest until the Ghost Riders were run to ground.
● ● ●
Knowing the rest of the men would arrive in San Leanna shortly after sunrise, Charlie awakened early. He lay next to his still sleeping wife, gently stroking Mary Jane’s hair while he watched her. Finally, sensing Charlie’s gaze, she awakened. He gave her a quick kiss.
“Good mornin’, darlin’. How are you feelin’?” he asked. “Better, I hope. You look a bit better. Some of those bruises are startin’ to fade.”
“Good morning to you, husband of mine,” Mary Jane answered. “Mrs. Charles Blawcyzk. I still can’t get used to my new name. And I still have trouble pronouncing it, even after all this time.”
“You’ll have plenty of time to practice,” Charlie said. “Years and years. And you still haven’t answered my question.”
“I certainly hope so, Charlie,” Mary Jane said. “And yes, I am feeling a bit better.” She glanced out the window, at Doctor Watson’s still dark back yard. “What time is it? And why are you up so early?”
“It’s just before dawn,” Charlie answered. “And I have to leave for Austin today, with my pa and the rest of the men. Remember?”
“I do now,” Mary Jane said. She sighed.
“Mary Jane, it’s not too late to change your mind. I can still stay here with you, if you’d like,” Charlie assured her.
“No, Charlie, I meant what I said when I told you that you had to go after the men who put me here,” she answered. “It’s just that, well…”
“Just what, Mary Jane? Tell me.”
“Charlie, if you don’t want to come back to me, you don’t have to. I’ll understand.”
“What do you mean, don’t come back to you, Mary Jane? Have you gone loco? Of course I’ll come back to you, once my work is done, and the Ghost Riders are dead, or behind bars, waitin’ to be hung.”
“Charlie, I’m blind,” Mary Jane said, her voice breaking. “I may always be blind. Doctor Watson says he can’t be certain I won’t be crippled, and I’ll almost certainly have scars. If you want me to set you free, I will. You don’t have to stay married to me out of some misplaced sense of duty, or loyalty… or worse, pity.”
“Mary Jane, I married you. Not your eyes, or your legs, or any one part of you. I married the whole woman. Besides, by the time I get back, you’ll be able to see again. I just know it. And just to set things straight, I still love that whole woman, and always will. Although I have to admit, you do have mighty pretty eyes. And a real cute nose, too.”
He kissed her on the tip of that pert, slightly turned-up nose.
“Do you really mean that, Charlie?” she asked.
“Let me put it to you this way. Suppose I come home some day, with a bullet or knife scar on my face, or mebbe crippled up by some Kiowa’s arrow or renegade’s slug. Would you leave me because of that?”
“Of course not, Charlie,” Mary Jane answered, her voice indignant.
“And I won’t leave you because of what those outlaws did to you,” Charlie replied. “So, that’s enough of this kind of tal
k. Let me just hold you, until it’s time for me to go. We can talk about our future, if you’d like. And we do have one, you know, despite how bleak things look at the moment. All right?”
“All right. I love you, Charles Edward Blawcyzk.”
“And I love you, Mary Jane Jarratt Blawcyzk.”
All too soon, it seemed, Jim was knocking at Doctor Watson’s front door. When Watson admitted him into the house, he went straight to Mary Jane’s room.
“Pa? You’re here already?” Charlie said.
“I’m afraid I am,” Jim answered. “We’ve gotta get ridin’. Mary Jane, how’s my favorite daughter-in law this mornin’?”
“I’m feeling a lot better, Jim,” Mary Jane answered. “And I’m your only daughter-in-law.”
“You’re still my favorite,” Jim answered, smiling. “Charlie, all the others are outside, waitin’. We’ll give you a few more minutes, but then we have to get ridin’.”
“All right, Pa.”
“Charlie, don’t make them wait,” Mary Jane said. “I’ll be fine, really. The sooner you go, the sooner you’ll come back to me. Just make certain you do.”
Charlie glanced at Jim.
“As my pa’d say, and I would too, you can bet your pretty feathered and flowered bonnet on that, Mary Jane. Yeah, you sure can.”
He leaned over and kissed her.
“Reckon it’s time to go. C’mon, Pa.”
13
Captain Storm was already waiting when they arrived at Ranger Headquarters, a little over ninety minutes later.
“Mornin’, Cap’n,” Jim said, as he walked into Storm’s office, followed by the others. “Beggin’ your pardon, but you look terrible. Appears like you haven’t slept all night.”
Storm was unshaven, his eyes red and swollen. He still wore the same rumpled clothes he’d had on for the previous two days.
“Mornin’, Jim. Mornin’, boys,” Storm replied. “And I did manage to snatch a few minutes sleep. But you’re right, Jim. I’ve been up most of the night, along with two of my clerks, diggin’ through records, then burnin’ up the telegraph wires. It appears all that hard work just might have paid up. Pour yourselves some coffee, pull up a chair, and I’ll tell you what I’ve learned.”
The men got mugs from the shelves, poured them full of the thick, black coffee always kept warm in a pot on the stove, then settled onto chairs, or the worn leather sofa Storm kept in one corner. Smoky, as always, lit a quirly, while Storm filled and lit his pipe. Once everyone was set, Storm put on his spectacles, then opened one of the files on his desk.
“Charlie, before I begin, how is Mary Jane this mornin’?”
“She’s doin’ a bit better, Cap’n. Thanks for askin’.”
“Good, good. I’m glad to hear that, especially after what I’ve uncovered. If we do manage to bring in the Ghost Riders, it’ll be because of the information your wife gave us.”
“You mean you know who those men are, Cap’n?” Charlie said, excitement rising in his voice.
“Just rein in, son, and listen to what I have to say. That’ll answer all your questions,” Storm answered. “Yes, I’ve got a pretty good idea who those men are. The first one, Stonefield, is most likely Ike Stonefield. He’s a half-breed, Kiowa and white. His family owns a good-sized spread, the Cross SF, up in the Panhandle, about twenty miles north of Quitaque. The place sits between the Caprock canyonlands and the Prairie Dog Town Fork of the Red River. I don’t need to tell you that’s mighty rough country. Ike’s father, Morris, is a prominent citizen of Briscoe County. Even though his wife is a full-blooded Kiowa, they’re both well respected up that way. Morris and his wife are as fine as they come. So are their two youngest sons, and their daughter. However, Ike sure didn’t turn out like the rest of his family. Five years back, he got caught wide-loopin’ cattle. He spent four years in jail for it. He swore he’d get revenge for that. My guess is he has, by joinin’ the Ghost Riders.”
“Now I know where I’d heard that name,” Jim said. “It was Ranger Hank Field who brought Ike in. But, accordin’ to what Mary Jane told me, Stonefield ain’t the leader of the outfit. He’s just one of the gang.”
“Mebbeso, but he probably helped organize the bunch,” Storm answered. “I’m waitin’ for responses to messages I’ve sent, to see who Stonefield might’ve associated with, either while he was in or after he got out of prison. With luck, that’ll give us a few more names.”
“What about the other hombre? Cannon?” Charlie asked. “He’s the one I want to line up in my sights. I’m gonna put a bullet right between his legs, blow his balls clean off, let him suffer awhile, then put another bullet right in the middle of his forehead and blast his brains out.” He shook his head. “Sorry, Pa, I’m cussin’ again.”
“I can’t blame you for feelin’ that way, Charlie,” Storm answered. “But we’ve got to try’n bring this bunch in alive… not that I think there’s much chance of that. I do have a first name for him. Took a while, but I tracked it down. His full name is Emerson Cannon, out of Natchitoches, Louisiana. He raped and almost killed a woman there, just like he tried with your wife. Her husband came home just in time to stop him. He’s the man who gave Cannon those scars. He half killed him. While Cannon was awaitin’ trial, he broke jail. Last anyone had seen of him was over in Throckmorton. A deputy recognized him from a wanted poster, and attempted to arrest him. Throckmorton killed that deputy, and made good his escape on a stolen horse, headed west. He just might’ve met up with Ike Stonefield. They’d be the kind to throw in with each other.”
“That’s all well and good, Cap’n, but that still doesn’t give us any idea as to who’s leadin’ the outfit, and where they hole up,” J.R. said. “Seems to me someone’s protectin’ ’em, too, the way they can just up and disappear. You reckon it’s Ike’s father? He might be providin’ a way for Ike and his pardners to sell off the livestock they’ve rustled, too.”
“Anything’s possible, but I doubt it,” Storm answered. “Morris Stonefield paid for his son’s lawyer, but once it was proved Ike was behind a whole passel of cattle rustlin’, he cut ties with the boy. No, I don’t think it’s him. And the only reason I think Ike didn’t go after his father when he got out of jail is it would’ve been too obvious.”
“Although now, that some time has passed, he just might be thinkin’ of doin’ exactly that,” Smoky said. “It’d be easy enough for Ike to do, especially ridin’ with the Ghost Riders, then the whole outfit could make their way into the Indian Territories, or over to New Mexico, out of our reach. They’ve got to know we’re gonna close in on ’em, sooner or later. I’d wager they’re startin’ to think they’ve grabbed enough money, and it’s time to hightail it out of Texas.”
“That’s likely, Smoke,” Storm agreed.
“Cap’n, did you get a description of this Stonefield hombre?” Ty asked.
“Yep, it’s right here. Lemme read it to you.” Storm picked up another sheet of paper. “He’s twenty-eight years old, stands about five foot nine, weight about one hundred and seventy pounds. Has brown hair and eyes. Wears a moustache.”
“Then why’re we just sittin’ here?” Charlie demanded. “We should be on the trail of those hombres, right now.”
“Because, right now, we don’t have any idea of where to look for ’em,” Storm answered. “Sure, I could have you boys ride up into the Panhandle, but what good would that do? The Ghost Riders might well turn up somewhere else. When I get the answers I’m waitin’ on, then I might be able to put you back on the trail. For now, hard as it is, we’ll just have to wait, and be patient.”
Charlie jumped up from his chair.
“I ain’t waitin’ around any longer. I’m goin’ after those hombres, right now.”
He started for the door. Jim grabbed him by the shoulder and spun him around to face him.
“Charlie, you ain’t goin’ anywhere, not until…”
Jim’s words were cut off when Charlie drove a punch to the point of his chin
, sending him staggering backwards. When Charlie swung again, Jim ducked the punch, and sank his own fist into Charlie’s belly. Charlie doubled over and fell to the floor, arms wrapped around his middle and struggling to pull air into his lungs.
“Charlie, I might be gettin’ a bit long in the tooth, while you’re still a young’n, but I sure ain’t too old to whup you,” Jim said, standing over his son, his fists clenched. “You hear me?”
“Yeah… yeah,” Charlie gasped.
“All right.” Jim pulled Charlie to his feet. “That’s enough of this foolishness about takin’ off on your own. We’ll wait until we have some idea which way to head. Once we have that, we’ll stick to the trail like white on rice.” He paused. “Charlie, I know exactly how you feel. When our ranch was attacked, while you were still a young’n, you and I were shot, your mother was beaten and raped, and all of us left for dead, I couldn’t wait to take off after the men responsible.”
“And you did just that,” Charlie retorted. “You caught those men, too. So why’re you tryin’ to stop me from doin’ the exact same thing?”
“Because what I did was wrong, Charlie,” Jim explained. “It was wrong then, and it’s still wrong now. It took me a long time to admit that to myself. Also, don’t forget, I might’ve found those men, but I still needed help to round ’em up. I couldn’t have done it alone. All I would’ve accomplished is gettin’ myself killed, leavin’ your ma a widow and you without a father. If you insist on goin’ after Cannon and the rest of his bunch single-handed, that’s what will happen to you. None of us want to see that happen. Think about Mary Jane. Do you want to leave her a widow, before you’re even married three months? You need to listen to me, Charlie, and ride with us, not alone. Can I count on that?”
“I’ll go along, for now,” Charlie muttered. “But when we do finally catch up with that bunch, Cannon is mine. Don’t any of you get in my way.”
“I promise you that, Charlie,” Jim said.
“Those two are sure exactly alike,” J.R. half-whispered to Smoky.
The Ghost Riders Page 21