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The Devil's Waltz

Page 17

by Ethan J. Wolfe


  He took a shallow breath, held it, and squeezed the trigger.

  About one and a half seconds after the booming noise of the shot, the center rider fell from his horse.

  Before the remaining four riders even realized what had happened, Posey reloaded and fired a second round, taking out the rider on the far right.

  The remaining three riders slowed to a stop and didn’t move.

  Until the rider on the far left fell from his horse from Posey’s third shot.

  The remaining two riders turned their horses and raced east.

  Posey could have killed them both, but there was no need. They wouldn’t come to the village and would cross the border back to Texas, where they would be caught or killed by the rangers.

  Posey lowered the Sharps and watched them ride away.

  After setting the hay on fire, Pilar ran to the end of the field and watched the riders gallop toward the village.

  The riders appeared as black dots on the horizon.

  Suddenly, the dot in the middle fell from his horse. Two seconds later, she heard the crack of a rifle. Then another dot fell, followed by another shot, and after that, one more rider fell, followed by a third rifle crack.

  The remaining two dots turned east and raced away.

  No more shots fired. Posey let them live because there was no reason to kill them, just like with the boy, Evan.

  She returned to the cart.

  “It’s over, Papa,” she said.

  “Let’s go back to the house and wait for your marshal,” Jose said.

  “He isn’t my marshal, Papa,” Pilar said.

  “If you say so,” Jose said.

  Posey arrived with the horses of the three men he shot in tow. He dismounted at the corral and walked to the porch where Pilar sat, waiting.

  “I saw the men fall from their horses,” Pilar said. “You could have killed the other two but didn’t.”

  “No need. They got the message.”

  Jose came out from the house and looked at Posey.

  “My sons and the boy, Evan, are in the north field watering the crops,” Jose said. “I don’t expect them back until dark. He is a good boy, this Evan.”

  “I’ll be picking him up in the morning to take him to Laredo,” Posey said.

  Jose looked at the corral. “What about these horses?”

  “Not counting Evan’s, there are ten horses for you to divide up among the village as you see fit,” Posey said. “At least you get something for your troubles.”

  “Will you come back for supper?” Pilar asked.

  “Reckon not,” Posey said. “There are bodies to be buried and such.”

  “I see,” Pilar said with sadness in her voice. “Then we will say goodbye in the morning.”

  “Reckon so,” Posey said.

  He left the porch and returned to his horse. “I’ll be back after breakfast for the boy,” Posey said.

  Shirtless, drenched in sweat, Posey tossed the last shovelful of dirt on the final grave.

  Standing beside him, shovel in hand, Joseph said, “We are running out of places to stick dead outlaws.”

  Posey grinned. “Did you take what money they had and their weapons?”

  “Yes.”

  “Divide it any way you see fit.”

  “Your job is done then?”

  “Yes.”

  “You will leave then?”

  “Yes, but right now I want a shave, a hot bath, and a good meal,” Posey said.

  The atmosphere in the cantina was almost carnival-like. Every table was occupied, and someone even played the guitar.

  Weary, Posey went to his tiny room behind the cantina and stripped off his shirt, gun belt, and boots and flopped onto the bed.

  He closed his eyes and didn’t open them again until something outside his door woke him up.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  * * *

  Posey’s eyes snapped open at the sound of a footstep outside his door. Moonlight filtered in through the open window and he looked at his gun belt on the table beside the bed and reached for the Colt.

  Holding the Colt, he sat up in bed and quietly cocked the hammer. Barefoot, he slowly stood up and silently walked to the door.

  He stood still and listened. A shadow cast under the door. Someone was standing right outside, waiting.

  Posey’s first thought was an assassin sent by Spooner.

  The door had no lock, and whoever was on the other side could have easily shoved it open and shot him before he got out of bed, but they hadn’t.

  Holding the Colt at the ready, Posey yanked open the door and looked at Pilar. Dressed in pants, a dark shirt, and her Stetson hat, in the moonlight she appeared breathtaking.

  “Jesus Christ, woman, I could have shot you,” he said as he uncocked the Colt.

  “But you didn’t,” Pilar said.

  “What are you doing here?” Posey asked. “It’s the middle of the night.”

  Pilar walked into the room, turned, and looked at Posey.

  “You are either too shy or too stupid or maybe both to seduce a woman, so I am here to do it for you,” she said.

  One candle on the small table beside the bed provided just enough light to see. Posey looked at Pilar’s naked body, and he felt weak and disoriented.

  “I am not sorry about this,” Pilar said. “Are you?”

  “Yes,” Posey said.

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m not who you think I am,” Posey said.

  Pilar sat up in the bed. “Tell me who you are,” she said.

  Posey sighed. “Not two months ago, I was in Yuma Prison. Do you know what Yuma Prison is?”

  “Yes. In Arizona.”

  “Then you know I am not a good man,” Posey said.

  “I’ll judge that for myself,” Pilar said. “Start from the beginning and tell me why you were in prison.”

  About an hour later, Posey rolled a cigarette and lit it from the candle’s flame and said, “That’s everything there is to know about me.”

  “You are not an outlaw,” Pilar said. “Your brother would not have trusted you with that badge if you were. An outlaw would not have stayed and helped our village or that boy, Evan. I don’t believe you want to find Tom Spooner for revenge or money, but because you made a promise to your brother. And I will tell you something else, Jack Posey. You love me. I can see it in your eyes and in the way I make you so nervous. Don’t deny it, and you might as well say it.”

  Posey looked at Pilar.

  “It’s okay to say the words,” Pilar said. “If you say them, your manhood won’t fall off. I promise.”

  “Yes, I do love you,” Posey said. “But I don’t know what it amounts to.”

  “It amounts to a lot,” Pilar said.

  Posey put the cigarette out and placed his head on the pillow next to Pilar.

  “Where did you learn English so well?” he asked.

  “I was born in Texas,” Pilar said. “My father moved us to Mexico when the war broke out to escape the destruction.”

  “So you’re an American?” Posey said.

  “As is my father,” Pilar said. “He was born in Texas. My mother died in childbirth with Charlie.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Me too.”

  “I have to finish this,” Posey said.

  “I know.”

  “Would you . . . what I mean is . . . I’d like to come back,” Posey said.

  “You idiot. I want you to come back,” Pilar said.

  “To bring you to Missouri, to my farm,” Posey said.

  “On one condition,” Pilar said. “That when you come back for me, you have a ring in your pocket or I won’t go.”

  “I can do that,” Posey said.

  “It will be light soon,” Pilar said. “I have to get back before my father wakes up.”

  “I know.”

  Pilar rolled over on top of Posey and kissed him. “We have a little time,” she said.

&nbs
p; Posey ate breakfast alone in the cantina. Afterward, Joseph and other villagers said goodbye to him as he saddled his horse at the fountain.

  “We hope you come back someday, Marshal,” Joseph said.

  “I have to, Joseph,” Posey said as he mounted the saddle. “There’s no place in America a man can get a shot of tequila.”

  Posey rode to Pilar’s house, lost in thought. A man can lie to the world, but not to himself. He did love Pilar, right down to his bones.

  He hoped, in his heart, that he was good enough for her.

  Joseph, Robert, Charlie, and Evan were on the porch when Posey arrived at the house.

  Evan’s horse was saddled at the corral.

  Posey dismounted and walked to the porch and looked at Evan. “Are you ready, son?” he asked.

  “Yes, Marshal.”

  Posey looked at Jose. “Where is Pilar? I’d like to say goodbye.”

  “She went to the north field early this morning.”

  “Why?”

  “Go ask her,” Jose said.

  Posey went to his horse, mounted the saddle, and rode north about three hundred yards to a large field of wheat.

  “Pilar, where are you?” he shouted as he dismounted, but she didn’t respond.

  He could see the impressions of her boots where she entered the field and he followed them about a hundred feet and found her sitting in the dirt.

  “What are you doing?” Posey asked.

  “Crying.”

  “Why?” Posey said as he lifted Pilar to her feet.

  “You better keep that promise to me, Jack Posey,” Pilar said.

  “The only thing that could stop me is if I’m dead,” Posey said.

  “That’s why I’m crying, you fool,” Pilar said.

  “Come on, I’ll ride you back to the house,” Posey said.

  “Can we walk back? I don’t want my father to see me crying.”

  “I think your father is a much smarter man than you give him credit for,” Posey said.

  “How long will it take us to reach Laredo?” Evan asked.

  “Late afternoon, I’m guessing,” Posey said.

  They were riding north toward the Rio Grande River where Posey had crossed when riding south.

  “I thought you said we need to go to Santa Fe,” Evan said.

  “We do, but it would be a lot quicker if we took the railroad,” Posey said.

  “I’ve never been on the railroad,” Evan said.

  “We’ll make it to Santa Fe in ten or twelve hours,” Posey said. “Instead of weeks and weeks in the saddle.”

  “The railroad moves that fast?”

  “Faster than the fastest horse,” Posey said. “Maybe fifty miles an hour or more.”

  “I don’t know what that means,” Evan said.

  “It means we’ll get to Santa Fe a hell of a lot quicker, that’s what it means,” Posey said.

  “Where do we get the railroad?”

  “Houston.”

  “Houston, the city?”

  “Since Sam Houston died nearly twenty years ago, I reckon it’s the city.”

  “I never been to a city.”

  “Been to a town?”

  “A few.”

  “Same thing, only bigger.”

  “When I was in school, I read about places like Boston and New York and a place called Paris, France, in Europe,” Evan said. “Europe is a place on the other side of the ocean. I never thought I’d see a real city.”

  “You live long enough and you see everything worth seeing,” Posey said.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Why didn’t you kill those last two men?”

  “A man doesn’t kill another man when he’s running away,” Posey said. “That’s something a coward would do.”

  “My uncle would have killed them,” Evan said.

  “I expect he would have,” Posey said. “We’re coming to the river.”

  Posey followed the river to the spot where he had crossed before and dismounted. “The silt is high. Should be an easy crossing, but keep your horse behind mine.”

  Posey took his horse into the water and Evan followed. With the water level low and the silt high, it took only minutes to cross.

  “Let’s give the horses a break,” Posey said. “Gather some wood and I’ll make us some coffee.”

  Posey and Evan ate strips of jerky and drank coffee while the horses rested and grazed on grass.

  “Pilar is a pretty woman,” Evan said.

  “Yes, she is,” Posey said as he bit off a hunk of jerky.

  “And kind.”

  “I agree.”

  “I think she’s sweet on you,” Evan said. “I saw her crying when we left. Girls don’t cry for no reason unless they’re hurt or sad. I think she was sad you was leaving.”

  “Know what I think?” Posey asked. “I think we need to push on if we’re to make Laredo before dark.”

  They reached Laredo by late afternoon. The sprawling town was filled with cowboys off the trail, soldiers and townsfolk. Evan looked around in wonder as they rode through the crowded streets.

  “At the end of this street is the Texas Rangers office. We’ll stop there,” Posey said.

  They rode to the office, dismounted, and tied the horses to the hitching post.

  Posey opened the office door and stepped inside, followed by Evan.

  Captain McDonald and Scout were the only two rangers inside the office. McDonald sat behind a desk.

  “I’ll be damned,” McDonald said.

  “I just stopped by for a steak,” Posey said. “Care to join me?”

  At the Laredo Hotel, Posey, Scout, McDonald, and Evan found a table in the dining room and ordered steaks.

  Posey gave McDonald a brief report on his stay in Nuevo.

  “Damnedest thing,” McDonald said. “Spooner robbed the Overland Stage carrying the payroll to the railroad construction at Eagle Pass. They split up and some headed to Mexico, but we didn’t know if Spooner was with them. By the time we reached Eagle Pass, we lost the trail of the other two.”

  “This boy is Evan Broussard,” Posey said. “His uncle is Pepper Broussard.”

  “I’ll be damned,” McDonald said.

  “He helped me down in Nuevo,” Posey said. “He might know where Spooner and Pepper are hiding out. We need some good maps of the Bighorn Mountains.”

  “All we got are maps of Texas,” McDonald said.

  “I figured,” Posey said. “I’m taking him to Santa Fe to get a pardon. I’ll find some maps there. Right now, me and the boy are checking into the hotel and having us a bath.”

  “A bath?” Evan said.

  “Son, downwind of you makes a man’s eyes water,” Posey said.

  “Don’t be afraid of that soap, boy,” Posey said. “And use it good on your hair. You got enough grease in your hair to make lantern oil out of.”

  “I don’t see what good it does to get all cleaned up just to put on the same dirty clothes,” Evan said.

  “Good point,” Posey said. “When we get back to the room, I’ll go to the store and pick you up some new clothes.”

  “I got no money,” Evan said.

  “You can owe me,” Posey said.

  Evan scrubbed his hair with the soap. “What’s gonna happen to me?” he asked. “I got no kin to live with. Will they send me to one of them homes?”

  “Not if I can help it,” Posey said.

  Evan dunked under to rinse his hair, popped up, and said, “Do you like being a marshal?”

  “If I had a choice, I’d rather be working the fields of my farm,” Posey said.

  “You’re a farmer?” Evan said with shock.

  “I was once,” Posey said. “I’d like to be again. Come on, we’re clean enough.”

  Walking along the wood sidewalk with a wrapped bundle under his arm, Posey spotted McDonald sitting in a chair in front of the hotel.

  “Thought I’d save you and the boy some t
rouble,” McDonald said. “I wired the railroad in Houston. They’ll have a special car waiting for you at the construction site to take you to Houston tomorrow whenever you can get there. The site is about a full day’s ride northeast.”

  “I’m obliged to you, Captain,” Posey said.

  “You killed most of Spooner’s gang. It’s the least I can do,” McDonald said.

  “We’ll get an early start then,” Posey said. “If you’re up, join us for breakfast.”

  Posey tossed the package on one of two beds in the hotel room. “Two shirts, two pairs of pants, the like amount in socks and underwear, and one nightshirt to sleep in,” he said.

  “I never had new clothes all at once,” Evan said. “Sometimes a shirt or pants, but never at the same time.”

  “Put on the nightshirt and get to bed,” Posey said. “We got an early start in the morning.”

  “Yes, sir,” Evan said.

  Posey was close to sleep when he heard the boy roll over in his bed.

  “Marshal,” Evan whispered. “Are you awake?”

  “I am now,” Posey said. “What is it?”

  “My uncle would shoot you in the back,” Evan said. “He’d shoot a blind man and not think twice about it.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” Posey said and closed his eyes.

  Pilar came to him in his dreams. Her body was warm to the touch. Her hair was soft and smooth, and he buried his face in it and took in the scent of her soap.

  They were making love in the little room behind the cantina when there was a noise and he reached for his Colt.

  Posey opened his eyes.

  Whatever happens, don’t let Pepper Broussard shoot you in the back, he thought.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  * * *

  When Posey and Evan stepped out to the front porch of the hotel, they found McDonald and Scout waiting for them in chairs.

  “You’re up early,” Posey said. “It’s still dark.”

  “Wanted to make sure we saw you before you left,” McDonald said. “Scout has volunteered to accompany you.”

  “I appreciate it, Scout, but I think I can find the railroad construction site okay,” Posey said.

  McDonald shook his head. “All the way to the Bighorn Mountains,” he said.

 

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