Blood Ties: A Texas Ranger Will Kirkpatrick Novel

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Blood Ties: A Texas Ranger Will Kirkpatrick Novel Page 8

by James J. Griffin


  Will knocked on the door frame.

  “C’mon in,” a gruff voice answered.

  Will stepped inside Hunter’s office, followed by Jonas.

  “Howdy, Cap’n,” he said, and sketched an informal salute. The Texas Rangers weren’t much on military style formalities or discipline.

  “Howdy yourself, Will,” Hunter answered, as he stood up and came from behind his desk to shake Will’s hand. Hunter was in his early sixties, his thinning gray hair and good-sized paunch attesting to his age. But his deep blue eyes were as clear and ever, his mind as sharp. He could still outshoot most men with the Smith & Wesson American he wore on his right hip. “’Bout time you got back. Who’s that you’ve got with you?”

  “This is Jonas Peterson. Sorry we took so long, but with the Texas and Pacific not runnin’ past Abilene…”

  “Too late to worry about it now.” To Jonas he said, “I’m Captain Paul Hunter.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Cap’n Hunter,” Jonas said, extending his hand.

  “You too, son. But I’m a mite puzzled. Will, what’s this boy doin’ here?”

  “Jonas? He’s gonna be your newest Ranger, Cap’n.”

  “What makes you think I need any more Rangers?”

  “Because I’ve been gone for a few weeks. In that time, at least one man must’ve been gunned down, stabbed, scalped, killed in a fall from his horse, or just plain up and quit, that’s why.”

  “Unfortunately, you’re right. Three Rangers have died, and two quit, since you rode out, so the outfit’s short-handed. But—and no offense meant, Jonas—you don’t look old enough to enlist.”

  “No offense taken, Cap’n. But I am eighteen. Got the proof in my mother’s Bible, out in my saddlebags.”

  “I’ve seen it. Jonas ain’t lyin’, Cap’n. He’s eighteen,” Will confirmed.

  “Okay, I’ll give you that he’s eighteen,” Hunter answered. “Exactly what makes you think the boy is qualified for the Rangers?”

  “Well, for starters, he saved my life, not once, but twice.” Will answered. “For another, the circuit judge over in Pecos ordered me to have him enlist in the Rangers.”

  “I think mebbe you’d better explain that, Will.”

  “It’s a pretty long story, Cap’n. I reckon it’d be best if you read the judge’s verdict in Jonas’s trial, and the reasons for all of this.”

  He handed Hunter the folded sheaf of papers he had kept tucked under his left arm, until now.

  “This is pretty thick,” Hunter muttered. “You two might as well pour yourselves some coffee and pull up a chair. It’s gonna take me a while to plow through all this. Will, I know you don’t smoke, but would you like one of my cigars, Jonas?”

  “No, thank you, sir,” Jonas answered. “Cigars are a mite too strong for my taste. I never have taken up cigarettes, neither.”

  “Suit yourself. But I’m gonna have another one.” Hunter discarded the extinguished stub of a cigar he held clamped between his teeth, then pull another from his shirt pocket, struck a match, and lit it. Once he had the cigar going, he plopped into his chair, put on his spectacles, unfolded the papers, and began to read.

  ****

  It took Captain Hunter forty-five minutes to read Judge Huttwelker’s file on Jonas’s case. Several times, he paused to ask Will or Jonas a question. Finally, he dropped the last page on his desk, and leaned back in his chair. He took the cigar butt he held tightly in his teeth from his mouth, and stubbed it out in the already overflowing ashtray on his desk. He took yet another cigar and a match from his shirt pocket, struck the match alight on his belt buckle, then lit the cigar and got it going before he spoke.

  “Will, you’ve come back with some tangled messes before, but this one tops any of ’em.”

  “I know, Cap’n.”

  “By all rights, this young man should be going to prison. On the other hand, I can see why you don’t want him to. And, I agree. Jonas, prison is no place for you. If I rejected the judge’s decision, and sent you to Huntsville, I’m almost certain you’d come out a hardened criminal…either that, or be killed behind those walls. If you did survive, I’m certain before too long, the Rangers would be after you for committing more crimes.

  “In addition, there is plenty of precedent for a man quitting his criminal career and joining the Rangers. Some of the best men the Rangers have had were, at one time, on the other side of the law. Therefore, I am going to have you enlisted as a Texas Ranger. And let me say right now I appreciate what you did for Will, here.”

  “Thank you, Captain Hunter,” Jonas said.

  “Let me finish, before you think you’re getting off easy,” Hunter answered. “My clerk has already gone home for the day, so we’ll have to do the paperwork in the morning. Now, I realize you probably think you’ve already seen how difficult the life of a Ranger can be, since you and Ranger Kirkpatrick first confronted each other. Believe me, what you’ve been through so far was just a pea shoot.

  “Once you sign on, you’ll be a target for every renegade in the state. There’s lots of law-abidin’ folks who aren’t too fond of the Rangers, either. You’re also gonna have another weight on your shoulders. You make one mistake, just one, no matter how small, and you’ll be on your way to Huntsville. That means you’re to listen to everything Ranger Kirkpatrick tells you, to obey his every order.

  “You’ll also have to keep your temper in check, no matter how much you might get riled by somebody hasslin’ you, or the local law not bein’ happy about the Rangers comin’ in and takin’ over. I won’t even talk about the physical and mental exhaustion. So, as long as you’re certain you can handle everythin’ that’s gonna be thrown at you, tomorrow you’ll be a Texas Ranger.”

  “I can handle it,” Jonas assured him. “Anythin’s better’n spendin’ years behind bars. I won’t let you down. You either, Will.”

  “I’m sure you won’t, or I wouldn’t have allowed you to sign up,” Hunter said.

  “Now that Jonas’s status is settled, where’re we headed, Cap’n?” Will said. “I figure whatever you’ve got planned must be pretty urgent, since you wanted me back so quick.”

  “You’re not goin’ anywhere, except home, Will,” Hunter answered.

  “Home? What the hell do you mean, home, Cap’n? We pushed our horses to their limits rushin’ back here, and you’re sendin’ me home? Tell me this is some kinda bad joke.”

  “It ain’t, and watch your tone with me, Ranger,” Hunter warned. “You’ve got a couple of weeks leave comin’, and you’re gonna take it. You’re goin’ home for your sister’s wedding.”

  “Cap’n, you know when I joined the Rangers my family didn’t want anythin’ more to do with me. I ain’t been back home since I left. I sure don’t intend to head back there now.”

  “You will, Ranger, and that’s an order. Your father wants you home for your sister’s wedding, and you will be there,” Hunter insisted. “You know your father has the governor’s ear.”

  “He’s got more’n just the governor’s ear,” Will shot back. “He’s got the governor by his horse chestnuts. And as far as I’m concerned, he can have the whole damn governor.”

  “You’re bordering on insubordination, Ranger,” Hunter warned. “I don’t know much about your history with your family, and frankly, I don’t care. All I know is your father talked to the governor, who talked to the adjutant general, who talked to me.”

  “They can all go to Hell,” Will muttered.

  “Mebbe they will, someday,” Hunter answered. “In the meantime, they’re my bosses. I like my job, and intend to hold onto it as long as I’m able. That means you’ll swallow your damn pride, or anger, or whatever’s eatin’ at your insides, and go to that wedding. Hell, Will, don’t you have any feelin’s, at least for your sister? Think of her, if no one else. How will she feel if you’re not there when she gets married?”

  “Can’t you just tell my father that you had to send me on an assignment down along the b
order? One that just couldn’t wait?”

  “I think you already know the answer to that.”

  “Yeah, I reckon I do. Damn. Seems like you’re not givin’ me a choice, Cap’n.”

  “You’re wrong, Will. You do have a choice. You can either take the leave you’ve got comin’ to you, go to your sister’s wedding, then be back here in two weeks, ready to return to work. Or you can turn in your resignation, right now.”

  “I think you know the answer to that.” Will shook his head in defeat. “I’ll go, but only for Susie. Now, what exactly am I supposed to do with Jonas?”

  “Take him with you,” Hunter answered. “Not to the wedding, of course, unless when you get home your family invites him. You can teach him some of what he needs to know while you’re ridin’ home and back, and if you have time, while you’re there. You’re makin’ the right decision, Will. You won’t regret it.”

  “Uh-huh,” Will said, clearly not convinced.

  “You know I’m right. Families, as aggravatin’ as they can be, should still stick together, unless things are so bad it’s impossible. I don’t think that’s the case here, or your father would never have contacted the governor to make certain you were home for the wedding. Since you’re already runnin’ late, you’ll need to pull out as soon as Jonas is sworn in tomorrow. Lucky there’s still a few days until the ceremony.”

  “Yeah, real lucky,” Will said. He stood up.

  “C’mon, Jonas, we’ve gotta care for our horses, then I’ll show you where we bunk. After that, I’m gonna give you your first lesson as a Ranger…how to get rip-roaring drunk. Let’s go.”

  He didn’t even wait for an answer, just stalked out of the office. Jonas sat there in confusion.

  “Go ahead with him, Jonas,” Hunter said. “Try’n keep him outta trouble. The way he’s feelin’, I have a hunch you’ll have your hands full.”

  “Yessir, Cap’n. And thanks. I’m obliged for your faith in me.”

  “I only ask you make certain it’s not misplaced.”

  “I will,” Jonas answered. He jammed his hat on his head and hurried after Will.

  7

  Will and Jonas left Austin just after ten o’clock the next morning, after Jonas had been officially been made a Texas Ranger. They had spent most of the previous night in the Silver Star Saloon, the unofficial Rangers’ barroom in Austin, downing more whiskeys than was wise for any man.

  They had stumbled into the Headquarters barracks well after two in the morning, collapsed across their bunks, and passed out. Now, despite being severely hung over, they had somehow managed to get the gear on their horses, gotten some needed supplies at the nearest store, and were riding west, both of them slumped over in their saddles, heads pounding, stomachs churning, and mouths dry as cotton. Jonas, who had never drunk so heavily before in his life, was particularly miserable.

  “How long have we gotta ride, Will?” he asked.

  “Three days,” Will answered. “Home’s a little more’n a hundred miles from here. It’s a small town just about halfway between Fredericksburg and Kerrville, on the edge of the Hill Country. We’ll head west for a ways, then cut southwest. After pushin’ these horses so hard to reach Austin, I ain’t in any particular hurry. Since we got a late start and are travelin’ slow today, we’ll reach town late mornin’ on Thursday.”

  “Plus, you don’t really want to go home, anyway,” Jonas answered.

  “There is that,” Will admitted. “Although Cap’n Hunter was right about one thing. My sister Susie’s the only one who understood why I had to leave home and join the Rangers. I’d hate to hurt her by not bein’ there for her special day.”

  “Yeah, you’d have regretted that for the rest of your life,” Jonas answered. His stomach rumbled, and bile rose in his throat. He was barely able to keep from throwing up all over Rebel’s withers, and his saddle. He groaned.

  “Will, I need to ask you a favor.”

  “Sure, Jonas. What is it?”

  “Can we keep the horses to a walk, or a slow, easy lope, until I’m feelin’ a bit better? Guess I drank a bit too much last night. I don’t think I could handle a trot.”

  “You drank too much?” Will said. “As if I didn’t? You really think I want to be jouncin’ along at a trot, gettin’ my guts bounced right outta me? We’re gonna keep at a steady walk, at least for the mornin’. After we stop to eat somethin’, if we can keep it down, we’ll pick up the pace this afternoon.”

  “I appreciate that, Will. I’m grateful. Gracias.”

  “Not as grateful as my own belly is. Man, that sun is bright. Sure ain’t helpin’ my headache. There’s a patch of live oaks up ahead. We’ll stop there and rest in the shade for a while, then push on.”

  ****

  “There she is, just ahead. My home town,” Will said, right around eleven o’clock the following Thursday. He pointed to a sign that marked the town limits.

  “Kirkpatrick,” Jonas read, aloud. “You mean the whole damn town is named after your family?”

  “Yeah, well, my father, anyway,” Will answered. He pulled out his badge and pinned it to his vest as they passed the sign. “He’s a banker. He was first vice-president at the First National Bank of Austin, then struck out on his own. He founded this town, startin’ with his own bank, and never looked back. One thing I’ve gotta give him, the man’s a success. He’s a natural-born money man.”

  Jonas read the signs on several businesses as they rode into town: “Kirkpatrick Mercantile”, “Kirkpatrick Dry Goods”, “Kirkpatrick Feed and Grain”, “Kirkpatrick House Hotel”, Kirkpatrick Harness Shop”, and more. Even the church was the “Kirkpatrick Community Christian Church”. The largest building, a two-story yellow brick structure, was the Kirkpatrick State Bank. He finally gave a low whistle.

  “Boy howdy, you weren’t kiddin’, Will,” he said. “Does your pa really own all these places?”

  “Most of ’em,” Will said, with a shrug. “The owners of the few he don’t paid him to put his name on their shops. Hey, Cletus,” he called to a man standing in front of the harness shop.

  “Will! Well I’ll be hanged,” Cletus Mayfield answered. “The prodigal son returns at last. You plannin’ on stickin’ around long? Who’ve you got with you?”

  “No longer’n I have to,” Will answered. “Just for Susie’s wedding. I’ll be hittin’ the trail soon as it’s over. This here’s my new ridin’ pard, Jonas Peterson. Jonas, Cletus Mayfield. He owns the harness shop.”

  Mayfield nodded.

  “Right pleased to make your acquaintance, Jonas.”

  “Same here,” Jonas answered, touching two fingers to the brim of his hat.

  “See you later, Cletus,” Will said, as he put Pete into a trot.

  “We’re gonna stop at the marshal’s office before goin’ to my family’s house, just to let him know we’re in town,” Will told Jonas.

  A few minutes later, after allowing their horses a short drink from the trough in the town plaza, they reined up in front of the Kirkpatrick Marshal’s Office. They dismounted, looped their horses’ reins over the rail, and went inside. There were two men in the office, one wearing a marshal’s star, the other a deputy’s. They looked up when Will and Jonas came in.

  “I don’t believe my eyes,” the marshal exclaimed. He hurried from behind his desk to pump Will’s hand. “Will Kirkpatrick. I honestly didn’t ever expect to see you darken my door again. Welcome home, boy.”

  “Howdy, Max,” Will said. “Good to see you again, too. This here’s my new ridin’ pard, Jonas Peterson. Jonas, Marshal Max Spurr, and his deputy, Art Mason.”

  The three men shook hands. Spurr was about the same age as Will, in his twenties, with curly dark brown hair, brown eyes, and a slim build. Mason was also young, no more than twenty-five, with sandy hair and green eyes. He was very thin, and stood ramrod straight.

  “You boys want a cup of coffee, or are you headin’ right for home?” Spurr asked.

  “I reckon I can ta
ke the time to have some coffee with an old friend,” Will answered. “Just don’t tell Jonas any tales about the stunts we pulled as boys, Max.”

  “Great. I’ll pour some. And I sure won’t repeat those stories. We’d both lose our badges if they ever got out.”

  “How’s my family doin’?” Will asked, while Spurr got some mugs off the shelf and began filling them from the pot keeping warm on the stove.

  “They’re all just fine,” Spurr answered. “Susan’s all excited about the wedding, of course. Your mother’s busy gettin’ ready for it too, plus always bein’ the town hostess. You know how she and the Kirkpatrick Ladies’ Sewing Circle and Reading Society keep rein on this town.”

  “I sure do,” Will said, with a rueful smile.

  “Your brothers are workin’ hard at the bank. Jerry’s been courtin’ Cynthia Wallace. I wouldn’t be surprised if they get hitched before too much longer.”

  “How about my father?”

  “You know him, Will.” Spurr shook his head. “Doesn’t care much about anythin’, except his bank. I reckon I don’t need to say more’n that. And of course he never forgave you for not goin’ into the bankin’ business with him.”

  “No, you sure don’t,” Will answered. “I’d hoped he would, in time, but I guess he’ll never change. I’m the black sheep of the family.”

  “Baaaah,” Mason said.

  “Careful, Art,” Spurr cautioned.

  “It’s all right,” Will said. “Art’s just funnin’ me. Anything else new in town?”

  “Well, let’s see.” Spurr ran a hand through his hair. “Molly Preston had twin girls…”

  For the next half-hour, Spurr and Mason caught Will up on all the occurrences in Kirkpatrick, few as they were, which had happened during Will’s absence. Finally, Will drained the last of his coffee.

 

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