Dead Man's Saddle

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Dead Man's Saddle Page 14

by Mike Kearby


  The sudden appearance spooked the horse holding Susannah. Cauble fought the reins against the rearing horse's fright. "Whoa! Whoa, now!" he shouted, then screamed at Turner, "It's him, Bark. Shoot that half-breed!"

  Turner jumped from behind the maple and took careful aim at the rapidly disappearing rider.

  Two shots followed.

  The horse and rider disappeared unfazed through the trees.

  "You missed him?" Cauble yelled out in disbelief.

  Turner glanced down at his gun in disbelief. "Couldn't have?" he shouted back. "I hit him both times."

  Cauble gave a hard jerk on the horse's reins once more. "Whoa, damn you!" he screamed.

  The animal danced in place, snorted twice, and then settled.

  Cauble looked at an agitated Turner. "You're sure?"

  Turner stared at the barrel on his gun. "I hit him in the back twice, Wes." The brigade deputy fussed, stunned.

  Cauble stood silent, wondering, trying to make sense of the fool's rush.

  "Maybe it wasn't me on that pony," A voice floated from the trees behind.

  Cauble wheeled, gun drawn.

  Turner dropped to one knee, his pistol pointed in the direction of the bodiless voice.

  "Maybe that was Deputy Brand who rode through…maybe that was ruse…maybe I'm behind you now…and maybe Bark Turner is a dead man."

  Cauble swallowed hard. "Do you see him, Bark?" he shouted.

  "Bark doesn't see anything, Wes."

  The blast of gunfire that followed Carrigan's bodiless voice made Cauble jump and Susannah flinch.

  Turner groaned, pitched forward, and keeled over, dead as a man could ever get.

  "Appears to be only you and me now, Wes," the voice said.

  Cauble squeezed on the reins and slowly moved around the horse. "Pretty smart, Carrigan, only I'm pretty smart too," he growled in confidence. "'Cause I've got your woman here."

  "It's over, Wes. Drop your gun."

  Cauble laughed, "I don't think so, half-breed. I think you might want to put yours down and come out where I can see you."

  A single shot stirred up the dirt three feet left of Cauble causing the horse to dance in place.

  "Hey!" Cauble yelled, "You do that again, and I swear I'll let this horse run, and your girlfriend here will swing from your daddy's tree."

  Cold silence.

  Cauble eyed the woods beyond him intently, waiting, watching.

  Suddenly, a deputy's badge swooshed through the air. The circular piece of silver broke the dead silence and landed several feet in front of Cauble.

  "I held on to that for all these years, Wes."

  Cauble smiled grimly. "You don't want to be my deputy anymore?" he asked and bent down to pick up the twelve-year-old piece of burnished metal.

  "I came here to resign."

  Cauble dropped the badge in his shirt pocket and then eased the rein tighter around his hand. "Well come out where I can see you then. I'll be glad to take your resignation, little deputy."

  "You may not know it, Wes, but you're not dealing with an eight-year-old boy anymore."

  Cauble shrugged. "Oh, I know who I'm dealing with, Miguel, a back-shooter, and a notorious assassin who dry gulches working ranging companies. The law will see you hanged like your papa or shot down like that whore you called mama."

  Behind Cauble, Justus arrived, breathless but cautiously silent.

  "You've got five men dead, Wes. I figure you know what's going to happen next."

  "You're crazy, little deputy." Cauble said and lifted his pistol toward Susannah's head. "Any outlaw who rides into a situation like this has got to be either loco or ready to go boots-up," he chuckled.

  Carrigan answered slow and deliberate, "It's a nice morning, Wes. A morning most men would be proud to call their last."

  Cauble grimaced and muttered, "Don't do anything crazy, half-breed. Your whore might get hurt in the confusion."

  Justus dropped to all fours and crawled forward, watching, listening, mesmerized.

  Cauble stabbed the barrel of his pistol animatedly at the trees hiding Carrigan. "You ready to ride off into hell, little deputy?" he screamed hoarsely.

  Carrigan chuckled, low at first then louder and somewhat crazed. "Maybe," he replied in a deadly serious voice. "But if I do, I figure to take you with me."

  Cauble lowered his head slightly seeking more cover behind the horse's back. "You do anything stupid, half-breed, and I'll kill Susannah, and then ride to the cabin and kill her boy!"

  "You're voice sounds shaky, Wes. You aren't afraid of dying are you?"

  Cauble's voice rose. A slight tremble shook his words. "I'm not fooling, now!"

  "If it makes you feel better, just think of it as the chance to ride up with the old gang again."

  Cauble leveled his gun at the trees and fired once. "Shut-up, breed!"

  Silence, again.

  Justus started to rise. He wanted to rush forward and help; then he remembered Carrigan's words, "things are going to happen real quick… quicker than you could ever imagine, and if you hesitate for even a split-second, if you freeze, if I have to protect you, then your Ma might be killed." A sudden insecurity crawled down his spine. Scared, he pushed himself flat against the ground, paralyzed.

  Cauble's eyes dilated and then contracted. He glanced up at Susannah, smiled crazily, and mouthed, Whataya think, Ma?

  Susannah saw the craziness coming and winced. Her eyes closed briefly, and her chin dropped toward her chest.

  Carrigan's voice drifted back into the camp. "You seemed spooked, Wes."

  "Not yet, Ma."

  Carrigan paused at the reply then laughed, "I see it now, Wes. You're just as crazy as everyone says you are."

  Cauble cheeks flushed at Carrigan's pronouncement. His eyes widened. He blinked his eyes rapidly, and then slapped the reins across the horse's front legs. "Hyah!" he screamed in a harsh, mean voice. "Crazy, huh?" The horse reared with a loud whinny and fought against the rein. Cauble yanked hard and yelled, "Settle!" The horse backed up swinging its head from side to side. Cauble dangled the rein across the beast's front legs. "Whoa!" The animal pulled once more then calmed. Cauble wheeled his head back toward the trees. "Now, half-breed, you come out where I can see you," he snapped, "or I'm fixing to let this horse run."

  Soundlessly, Carrigan appeared on the front edge of the trees. He held both Colts chest high, pointed directly at Cauble. "Here I am, Wes."

  Cauble studied the grown-up boy he deputized so many years ago. "Well now, look at you, Miguel, all grown up and full of piss and vinegar."

  "Let Susannah go, Wes."

  Cauble scratched his chin with the barrel of his pistol. "Well, see…," he said and lowered the gun slightly. "That's where we have a problem…or at least you have a problem, for it appears that you're looking straight down the bore of a sure enough real dilemma, half-breed."

  Carrigan extended each pistol. "What would that be, Wes?"

  Cauble peered around Susannah's back and laughed. "You've got sand, I'll give you that."

  Carrigan kept his focus straight ahead willing himself not to look at Susannah. "Cut her loose, Cauble, or I'm going to put a bullet in the center of your forehead."

  Cauble ran his tongue over his lips and steadied his pistol on Susannah. "Watch your mouth, breed," he warned, and then sheepishly ducked his head a little lower behind his horse.

  Carrigan steadied his feet and grinned.

  Cauble returned the grin and slowly laid his pistol across the saddle to steady his aim. "You fire off those Colts, Carrigan," he said, "then this horse is going to have its head."

  Carrigan remained stone-face. "I figure that horse is going to run anyway."

  Cauble pursed his lips, disturbed at Carrigan's answer. "You set to watch your whore hang?"

  Carrigan stayed mute and held his gaze forward. Without the slightest hesitation, he raised the Colt in his right hand two inches settling it directly on the top of Cauble's head. "It'd be a real
help if you'd raise your head a little, Wes."

  "Shut-up!" Cauble growled. "You're not spooking me none."

  Carrigan raised the Colt in his left hand slightly even with the other pistol.

  "Drop those Colts, Carrigan or I'll swat this horse!"

  Susannah glanced down at Carrigan. Her chest heaved. A warm sadness glazed her eyes. She tried to speak, but the gag held back her words.

  Carrigan could feel her eyes. Her smell drifted through his nose. His eyes widened slightly.

  Cauble followed Carrigan's eyes. He shot a quick gaze at Susannah and winced. "Don't," he muttered, but it was already too late.

  Susannah kicked both heels into the horse's rump and shook the saddle horn viciously. The animal jumped with a start and bolted forward.

  His cover gone, Cauble froze momentarily, fully exposed to Carrigan's line of sight.

  Susannah was carried forward by the horse's rush and then hitting the end of the rope, dropped behind the startled beast. The noose, engaged by the weight of her body, squeezed tight. Her eyes widened in terror as she kicked her bound ankles against the pressure.

  Justus forced his hands into his eyes and screamed.

  Carrigan's eyes darted toward Justus, then back to Cauble. He bit down on his lower lip in angst at the boy's presence, then raised the Colt in his left hand a foot above Susannah's noose and fired. The rope split apart sending her crashing to the ground at Cauble's feet.

  Cauble regained his senses and smiled broadly at the half-breed. "I knew it," he laughed at the vulnerable Carrigan. "I knew it!" His pistol bucked once. Then again.

  The first bullet struck Carrigan's left shoulder spinning him sideways and exposing his right side. The second bullet hit him below the rib cage and caused him to crumple. He rolled slightly right and returned fire, but the shot only kicked up dust at Cauble's feet.

  Cauble used the errant shot to his advantage and jerked Susannah to her feet. The noose, fixed tight around her neck, caused her cheeks to purple and her eyes to bulge. Cauble held her up as a shield and fired twice over her right shoulder.

  Carrigan dropped his right pistol and gasped for air, his right lung quickly filling with drowning blood. With one knee on the ground, he raised the left pistol shakily and aimed it at Cauble's head.

  Cauble pushed his pistol into Susannah's back and shouted, "Give it up, Carrigan, or I'll shoot her right now!"

  Carrigan choked and coughed up a splatter of blood.

  Susannah winced and with a muffled scream leaned against Cauble, pushing hard into his midsection, trying to drive him backward.

  Cauble stumbled, lost his grip on Susannah, and then fired once into his wife's back.

  Susannah fell, shocked, lifeless and limp.

  Carrigan's eyes widened with rage. He screamed and fired one shot into Cauble's exposed belly.

  Justus clambered to his feet, screaming and stumbled for his mother.

  Cauble dropped to his knees and squeezed the trigger once, hitting Carrigan in the heart.

  Struck, Carrigan fell face-forward in the sandy soil. His Colt discharged harmlessly several feet in front of him.

  Cauble foundered and growled in pain. He squeezed hard against his wound and glanced nervously from Carrigan to Susannah rapidly several times.

  Carrigan lay dead. His eyes locked opened and fixed on Susannah.

  Susannah, sprawled on her stomach, was still bound by the ankles and neck. She stared straight ahead. Her mouth instinctively gasped for air and small puffs of dust rose eerily with each ragged breath. Within a minute, she too was gone.

  "Hah!" Cauble moaned and struggled to his feet grimacing in pain. "Hah, half-breed," he swore. "Who won and who lost?" Hunched over, suffering, and hurt, the brigade leader staggered several feet for his horse. Upon reaching the animal, he stepped up in the saddle with a scream, "Tarnation!" A cold sweat broke across his forehead. "Crap," he moaned to the beast. "That half-breed has dang near killed me."

  Then from behind, a child's voice asked, "Where are you going, Wes?"

  The voice took Cauble by surprise. He turned slowly in the saddle. A sobbing Justus stood ten feet away, a pistol in his hand. The brigade leader took a quick glance down. His waistband and holster were both empty. "You planning on shooting me, boy?" he groaned with a shake of his head. "Cause I've already been shot once this morning."

  Justus's whole body trembled. "I'm gonna kill you, Wes, just like I said I would."

  Cauble took two jagged breaths and turned back around. "Not today, boy," he wheezed and nudged the horse forward. "Not today."

  Justus cocked the pistol and settled his finger on the trigger. "Just like I said," he uttered.

  The brigade leader reached into his pocket and removed the deputy badge. "Here," he muttered and tossed the badge over his shoulder. "Keep that as a memento of your friend, Carrigan."

  The badge landed at Justus's feet and disappeared into the sandy soil.

  Justus ignored Cauble's taunting. "Just like I said," he uttered through clenched teeth.

  Cauble cleared his throat and rode out of the carnage. His body slumped forward over the horse's neck. A pained moan came with each footfall from his mount. His voice was weak from the loss of blood. "You ain't got it in you, boy," he laughed weakly. "Never did. Why when I was your age, I had already killed two men and a whore."

  Justus tried to pull the trigger. "Just like I said, Wes!" he shouted at the disappearing figure. The trigger remained in place, unmoved. "Just like I said," he cried, softer and then let the gun slip from his hand and to the ground.

  Overwrought, he fell on both knees and shivered uncontrollably as he crawled for his mother. "Just like I said," he sobbed repeatedly over her body, never once noticing the bandits that rode upon him some thirty-minutes later.

  41.

  Arroyo de la Soledad, Texas,

  October 1848

  Juan Negras glanced at the crying boy before resting his gaze on the body of Miguel. He made the sign of the cross and then lifted his thumb to his lips. "How many did he kill?" he asked, curious.

  Justus glanced back at the bandits. Numb from the violence, he stared disconcerted at the man who asked the question. "What?" he asked in a timid, soft voice.

  "The men with badges," Negras motioned at Bark Turner's body. "How many?"

  Justus sniffled once, thinking, and then said, "Five dead, and one shot in the belly."

  Negras's expression changed. His eyes smiled and his lips formed a wide grin. "It is what he wanted, but I think that six were too many for one man, even a man such as Miguel."

  Justus wiped his eyes and stared at the man.

  Negras urged his horse forward. "Is the woman your mother?"

  Justus nodded and broke out into more tears.

  Negras clicked his tongue against his teeth, knowing…understanding. "We bury Miguel and then we help you bury your mother," he said.

  The boy frowned and shook his head. "I'll bury my mother," he proclaimed.

  Negras grinned and shrugged. "As you wish, muchacho."

  Later, mounted and ready to ride on, Negras asked Justus, "This one shot in the belly, which way did he ride?"

  Justus looked east. "Toward Gonzales, I suspect."

  The bandit nodded and looked at his men. "Maybe we ride toward Gonzales?"

  The bandits all muttered their agreement.

  "Who knows, maybe we ride across this gut-shot hombre."

  The bandits laughed in unison.

  Negras looked back at Justus and tipped his sombrero. "Thank you, muchacho."

  Justus dropped his gaze to his feet. He swallowed hard, fidgeting from foot to foot. He clutched Carrigan's deputy badge in his right hand.

  Negras waited patiently. "Something else?" he asked.

  Justus kept his eyes lowered and squeezed the badge tighter, deep in thought. After a few seconds, he pursed his lips and then blurted out, "I have nowhere to go now, and I wondered if I could ride with you like Mr. Carrigan did once?"
>
  Negras tightened his lips into a close smile and then exhaled, "But you are just a child."

  Justus clenched his fist several times and looked up slowly. He stared at his mother's grave. "Not so much anymore," he replied.

  Negras smiled knowingly.

  Justus glanced up and locked his gaze on the bandit leader. "And who can say, maybe I will grow up on the road to Gonzales."

  "Maybe," Juan Negras replied. 'But Gonzales is not that far away. Growing up might take a much longer road, muchacho."

  Justus took his gaze east toward Gonzales and whispered with a slow nod, "It seems I have the time, Juan Negras."

  Juan Negras exhaled softly. "Yes, muchacho, you have the time. The question is do you have the patience?"

  Justus narrowed his eyes and replied, "I think so, especially if you teach me how to be a man much like yourself."

  42.

  Outside of Gonzales, Texas,

  October 1848

  A half-day's ride out of Gonzales, two young tejano brothers stood silently in the family pasture. They remained unmoving, both captivated and delighted by the bloated corpse that hung from a great oak tree branch directly above them.

  After a time, the older boy pointed to the circular silver badge pinned to the dead man's shirt pocket. "Mirar bien," he said, telling his brother to look closer.

  Uneasy, the younger boy hesitated, took a step forward, glanced up quickly, and then hurried back to the safety of his brother. "What does it say?" he asked, pointing at the placard draped around the corpse's neck.

  The older boy squinted at the bloodstained sign, mouthed the sign's words, and then read aloud, "Así es la vida."

  William D. Carrigan, in his article, "The Lynching of Persons of Mexican Origin or Descent in the United States from 1848-1928", presented in the Journal of Social History, offers statistical data that shows two hundred eighty-two persons of Mexican origin were lynched in Texas between 1880-1930. Carrigan's article also details a list of the alleged crimes given for the mob actions. Carrigan's list includes murder, robbery and murder, being of Mexican descent, cheating at cards, witchcraft, taking away jobs, being a successful cart man, refusing to join the mob, courting a white woman, being a bad character, killing a cow, and protesting the Texas Rangers.

 

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