Stoner's Crossing

by Judith Pella

  Maria looked down; there was shame in her eyes. “Please, come to my sister’s house and we can talk.”

  Fifteen minutes later they were seated in a simple parlor in a small house on the edge of town. Maria’s sister served them coffee as they talked.

  “The things in the trunk, Maria, answered a lot of my questions about my family,” Carolyn said. “But they’re not very helpful to my mother. That is, except for one thing—a letter from your brother in Mexico answering some questions you had about Eufemia Mendez.”

  “Ah, yes, that.”

  Sky was writing as fast as he could so as to have a document of the conversation, signed by Maria, to present to the court.

  “You remember it?”

  “Of course.”

  “I wish you had just told me these things,” Carolyn scolded as gently as she could. “It would have saved a lot of trouble.”

  “I’m sorry, señorita. I am an old woman; I do not have much courage. It was too hard to stand against the Patrón who has been good to me and taken care of me these many years. But you—”

  “Never mind, Maria,” Carolyn broke in, perhaps a bit too harshly in her haste. “Let’s just get down to what that letter is all about. It looks as if Señora Mendez lied on the witness stand about why she went to Mexico. But why did what Eufemia did eighteen years ago concern you? You don’t seem like the type who gets involved in other people’s business, yet Eufemia’s trip to Mexico seemed to interest you. Why? And does it have anything to do with the Stoners?”

  Maria sighed and slowly shook her head. “You have not guessed? I thought it might be clear to you when you saw the letter, but then I am seeing it as one who knew. Yes, I should have been brave enough to tell you more. You were not there eighteen years ago to look into the eyes of a little bambino and see reflected the resemblance to one you knew, one you had raised from a baby himself.”

  “What do you mean, Maria?”

  “Eufemia’s baby, of course. I saw him after she returned from Mexico. She said he was a big baby for his age, and perhaps that was enough for the kind of people she mostly associated with—the men who came to the cantina—who did not know better. Or perhaps no one cared enough to take note that the baby was not just big, but that he was mature in other ways, too. I might not have bothered either; it was none of my business that the poor girl got into trouble in her line of work and then went to Mexico to cover her shame. That’s not why I wrote to my brother.”

  “Why, then, Maria?”

  “Have you really looked at Ramón, Carolyn? Do you not see it? I saw it perhaps because I had raised three Stoner children already—”

  “What are you saying, Maria?” Carolyn felt the color drain from her face and her stomach constrict.

  “Ramón is Leonard’s son—your own half brother!”

  “Are—are you sure?”

  “I have no proof, like what they might want in a court, but my eyes do not deceive me. If you look closely yourself, you will see.”

  Carolyn was quiet for a long time, trying to discern what this revelation might mean, but her mind was in too much disarray to make any progress on her own, so she continued to ply Maria with questions.

  “Does anyone else know this? My grandfather? Does Ramón know?”

  “I don’t know, but no one has said anything to me if they did,” Maria answered. “But Ramón has been working at the ranch for years. I know him, and I do not believe he knows.”

  Carolyn remembered Ramón’s shock when he was reading the letters; that could not have been an act.

  Carolyn continued to probe Maria for information. There were a few more questions Jonathan Barnum had asked Carolyn to question Maria about concerning the night of the murder; but after half an hour, it seemed apparent that she truly knew nothing about that night. She had been asleep in her cottage, she said. Carolyn berated herself for thinking that meant Maria was alone and had no alibi, but she was starting to suspect everyone. The housekeeper, however, did not find out about Leonard’s death until she showed up for work the next morning.

  It was almost eleven o’clock in the morning when Maria signed the informal deposition Sky had written of her statements. Carolyn and Sky bade her goodbye and went to the livery stable where their horses were ready for them—groomed, fed, and rested. On the way there Sky asked Carolyn, “Carolyn…this business with Señora Mendez; have you thought about what it all means?”

  “It means I have another half brother,” said Carolyn. “And, as shocked as I was to hear this, I really don’t mind—I’ve fared right well with half brothers, Sky. Ramón is almost as nice as you; I think you’ll like him.”

  “There’s more to it than that.” He paused and glanced her way to see if she yet understood. When she returned a somewhat blank expression, he continued. “Don’t you see? What happened to the Mendez woman—getting into trouble like that, and then, more than likely, not receiving any satisfaction from the father. I think it could be a motive for murder.”

  Carolyn stopped dead in her tracks and gaped at Sky. “Not Eufemia Mendez!” she finally said when she found her voice. “Women don’t kill for that reason. They go away quietly like she did, have their babies, and try to make a life for themselves.”

  “Yes, normally. But you said she was filled with an unaccountable hatred for the Stoners. Doesn’t it seem possible that Leonard spurned her, told her to take care of herself, that he wanted nothing to do with her or her brat, that one troublesome woman on his hands—our mother—was enough? Isn’t it possible that in a fit of desperate passion she shot him?”

  Again, Carolyn was faced with the unsavory character of her father; and, again, she could not argue with Sky’s reasoning. It wasn’t hard at all to picture that man doing the things Sky described. But would Eufemia kill him over it? Carolyn shook her head.

  “That’s Ramón’s mother, Sky,” she said. “I just don’t know. I still think it was Laban.”

  “Carolyn, sometimes you can be as narrow-minded as your grandfather,” Sky said. “You pointed out that he’s so set on our mother being the murderer that he refuses to see any other possibilities. You’re doing the same thing with Laban.”

  “But he lied about his alibi—at least he tried to make everyone believe he couldn’t remember. And he had the most to gain from getting rid of my father.”

  “What did he gain? He still hasn’t inherited the ranch.”

  “Sky, if what you say is true…you are talking about Ramón’s mother. And we both know how horrible that could be for him.”

  78

  After the eleven-hour ride back to Stoner’s Crossing, Carolyn and Sky were exhausted. But Carolyn could not go back to Leander before seeing Eufemia Mendez. It might have been more practical to wait until the law could accompany her, but Carolyn did not want Sky’s new insight about Eufemia Mendez to wait until morning. The cantina was open late, and it was likely Ramón’s mother was still there.

  “What’ll you say to her?” asked Sky.

  “I haven’t thought that far ahead. I appreciate you coming with me, though.”

  “Well, I reckon Sam and Mr. Barnum are sound asleep, so we can’t do anything about Maria’s deposition until morning, anyway.”

  Both Sky and Carolyn quaked upon entering a forbidden place like the cantina. Although it was late Sunday night, the saloon was fairly busy. Someone was playing the piano, a ribald, rousing tune, but it was not Eufemia. Sky went up to the bar.

  “Your mama know you’re in a place like this?” said one of the cowboys at the bar.

  Sky ignored him and got the bartender’s attention. “Is Señora Mendez around?”

  “What’s it to you?” said the bartender.

  “We want to see her.”

  The bartender rubbed his chin and gave the two youngsters a quick once-over. He recognized the girl from when she had come before, but he had his orders.

  “Don’t know a thing,” he said.

  Carolyn shouldered her way forward. “
It’s important.”

  The bartender shrugged and returned to pouring a drink for a customer.

  “Listen here!” Carolyn insisted.

  “Carolyn?” came a voice from behind.

  She spun around. “Ramón?”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Ramón, we have to talk. And where’s your mother?”

  “Yes, we do have to talk. Come with me.”

  He led them to the back room where Eufemia had entertained them before. She was nowhere to be seen. They sat on the edge of their chairs, all of them tense.

  “Carolyn,” Ramón began, “before I say anything else, you must believe I knew nothing before yesterday. And what I’ve done, I did because I could do nothing else.”

  “I hear you, Ramón, but I don’t understand. Are you talking about you being my brother? I found that out today from Maria. It seems like we should have known, sensed something, doesn’t it? But I’ve got a pretty thick skull; maybe you do, too.”

  “There’s more to it than that. More than just being brother and sister. I wish it were just that, for I’d be proud to have you as a sister. But now I’m faced with the same awful problem you’ve been struggling with all this time. I had decided to say nothing, to let the trial take its natural course. Maybe your mother would be let off, maybe it would come out as self-defense and no one would have to suffer. Maybe—”

  “What are you saying, Ramón? Is it true about your mother? Did she—?”

  Ramón bowed his head, tears seeping from the corners of his tightly closed eyes. Carolyn moved next to him and put her arm around him. She understood only too well what he was suffering; she even understood how he might be tempted to protect his mother even at the cost of another.

  Ramón looked up, desolate. “When I saw you in the cantina, looked in your eyes, I knew I couldn’t keep this secret, though my mother made me promise not to tell.”

  “Where is she?”

  “She left town yesterday. She thought that if your mother had been successful in losing herself for so many years, perhaps she could, too. She signed the ownership of the cantina over to me, as if it mattered to me.”

  “Did she tell you what happened to…our father?”

  He nodded dismally. “It was simple enough. She was in trouble, you know, with me. My father gave her some money and told her to leave him alone. My mother didn’t want his money; she wanted him to acknowledge his child. She knew he would never marry her because he already had a wife. And maybe no one else would know I was his. But he refused to accept me. He said he wasn’t going to make the mistake his father had made and accept a greaser offspring. She tried again, and when he turned her away, she went to Caleb—”

  “He knows?”

  “Yes, but all Caleb told her was to either leave them alone or get out of town. He also suggested that she could get rid of the unborn baby, but to my mother that would have been a mortal sin. Still, maybe Caleb has a small heart after all, for when she persisted, telling him she was ruined and had no way to support a child, he relented and asked her what she wanted. She said all she wanted was for her child to be recognized for who he was. Caleb offered her the cantina if she kept the matter a secret. She didn’t accept his offer. Instead, she tried one more time to convince my father. She hoped that once her baby was born, his heart would soften toward both her and the child—me.” He paused and shook his head at that still stunning realization. “She knew his marriage was a sham, and so she did have some small hope of that happening. She loved Leonard Stoner even after he treated her so. When she went to him, he only gave her more money—five hundred dollars.”

  “That would be the money in the bank account,” said Carolyn.

  “Yes, but as I said, she didn’t want money. She begged him, told him all she wanted was to be his mistress and for him to accept his child, even if no one else knew. He laughed at her, Carolyn. And then he drew his gun.” Ramón paused and swallowed. “He told her how easy it would be to kill her, how it would solve all their problems. He cocked the gun, and that’s when my mother went mad. In a rage that she said only someone in love could know, she attacked him. The gun went off.”

  “Then he couldn’t have been shot in the back?” said Carolyn.

  “My mother figured that Caleb just concocted that to make certain there’d be no doubt about your mother getting convicted. He got the doc and Pollard to back him up.”

  It no longer surprised Carolyn that Caleb would go so far to avenge his son’s death.

  Ramón continued. “When my mother realized he was dead, she escaped through the patio door. By the time she got back to her room at the cantina, she had enough presence of mind to realize running would only make her appear guilty. Then, in the morning, the news came that your mother had been arrested for the crime. The best thing for my mother then was to stay put. It was hard for her to see your mother suffer for her crime, but she had her baby to think of, and, of course, no one knew your mother was also in a family way.

  “When it was all over and your mother had escaped, my mother thought she could continue her life. She went to Mexico, and I was born. But she was shunned by her family. She decided it was better to starve in the States than in Mexico, and she could not forget that Caleb had once offered her the cantina. It was enough motivation for her to return. What else could a poor young woman with a child and no husband do? If Caleb turned her away, then she would do the best she could. And there was always the chance that one day Caleb would recognize me as his flesh and blood.”

  “It’s hard to believe Caleb never suspected what really happened,” said Carolyn. Then a little smile flickered across her lips. “No, I guess it isn’t. We’re too much alike. He got it in his mind my ma did it, and refused to look any place else.”

  Ramón voiced what both he and Carolyn were thinking. “I wonder how things would have turned out if I had never existed?”

  “I’ve thought that about myself, too, a few times,” said Carolyn. “But I’m glad I’m alive, and you should be also. What if our father had never been killed? I hate to say this, but both our mothers would have lived in misery. Yet even if he had lived, I think we would have been a comfort to our mothers. I don’t think my ma ever regretted having me. And I know you must have been a comfort to your mother. Imagine how empty her life would have been without you.”

  “Well, it’s no use to talk about what might have happened, is it? We are alive, and down deep, I wouldn’t want it any other way.” Ramón paused. “I haven’t had a bad life. But now my mother is a fugitive. When what I’ve just told you is revealed, the law will go after my mother, and maybe she won’t be as lucky as yours; they will catch her and she will spend years in prison, if they don’t—”

  “Wait a minute!” Sky, who had been listening with a clearer head than his companions, interrupted. “I’ve been listening enough to all this court rigmarole to know that your ma, Ramón, acted out of self-defense. No honest jury will see it any other way. You could ask Mr. Barnum to be sure, but I doubt your ma will go to prison or anything.”

  “That’s right!” Carolyn’s spirits lifted. “Do you know where she’s gone, Ramón, so you can tell her?”

  For a moment, Ramón looked suspicious.

  “Come on!” said Carolyn. “You don’t think we’re trying to trick you?”

  “The law isn’t always the same for Mexicans as it is for gringos,” he replied.

  “Well, if it’s the law you’re worried about, I’ll bet Mr. Barnum would take your ma’s case in a heartbeat. He’s the best lawyer in the country. He won’t stand for any shenanigans from the law.”

  “Maybe it would be worth the risk, better than her hiding for the rest of her life,” admitted Ramón.

  These astounding revelations were too important to wait until morning to be told to Sam and Deborah. No one was going to mind getting awakened to hear news like this. Her ma could get out of jail tonight! There was no reason for her to spend another night locked up. That con
vinced Sky, and so the three saddled fresh horses at the livery stable and raced to Leander. They went first to the hotel so Sam could be with them when they saw Deborah and told her the news.

  They found Jonathan Barnum pacing across the rug in the hotel lobby. He had even more shocking news for them. They had missed Sam and Griff by less than half an hour.

  79

  Even Carolyn, who loved being on the back of a horse second to nothing, groaned inwardly at the prospect of another breakneck ride. She had been in the saddle twenty-four out of the last thirty-six hours, but this time her mother’s life truly depended upon her, and she was determined not to fail.

  All three young people made the same assumption that Griff had made regarding Caleb’s probable direction. They moved swiftly and came very close to catching up with Sam because Carolyn didn’t have to pause at the rocky stretch. She remembered a small grove of trees a couple of miles from the ranch house and thought, with a shudder, that it was a likely spot. She had never been to the grove and had no idea of its greater significance, but because a hasty decision was needed, she chose that direction, praying it was right and rejoicing when trail signs proved she had made a good choice.

  Carolyn was frightened for her mother, yet she felt a certain peace, too. The timing of when Sam had discovered Deborah missing had been too close to her abduction to be a coincidence. God could not have had it happen thus, only to end up snatching Deborah away from them. But besides the faith in God she was trying to cling to, Carolyn’s innate stubbornness made her unable to accept the fact that she would be too late to save her mother.

  ****

  It was about two hours before sunrise. The night was chilly, but the moon had not yet set. Images were often deceiving at that hour; a fallen log might be mistaken for a stray cow, or a rock could vaguely resemble a stump. A moonlit shadow might be a cloud passing overhead, or it could be—