Pistolero Justice (A Piccadilly Publishing Western

by Patrick E. Andrews

  He leaped from his hiding place, shouting, “Saint Andrew and la Virgin de Guadalupe!”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Sudden blasts of gunfire off to his right startled Raul as he jumped down to a lower boulder. He turned to face this unexpected assault fully anticipating a death from the impact of dozens of bullets striking his body.

  But this new group wasn’t firing at him. These riders, appearing at the entrance to the camp, charged directly toward the bandits. The attackers, numbering close to a hundred, stormed the mob, bowling them over while firing rapidly into the crowd.

  Raul, as stunned as the bandidos, stood in shock, then he realized something that made his blood course faster. Two of the riders were wearing serapes bearing the plaid pattern of the Clan MacKenzie. Those could only be his brothers Roberto and Guillermo. And the gunmen with them were loyal vaqueros from Rancho San Andres.

  “Beto! Memo!” he called out, using their nicknames. “Soy yo — it is me!”

  Roberto spotted him first and signaled to the other Mackenzie. They turned out of the fight and rode up to him. Close, brotherly embraces followed a quick dismounting from their horses.

  “I don’t believe it!” Raul exclaimed.

  “We were afraid we were too late,” Roberto said. “Frankly we couldn’t figure out what was going on when we didn’t find any guards at either end of the trail up here.”

  Guillermo laughed. “We should have known they were busy trying to catch you.”

  Raul was still confused. “But how did you know I was here? And what about the treaty?”

  “The treaty!” Roberto scoffed. “To hell with the treaty. Once Demonio had captured you and harmed an employee, the treaty was no more.”

  “What employee are you talking about?” Raul asked. “Did the bandits hurt one of our vaqueros?”

  “Not a vaquero,” Guillermo said. He looked around in the crowd. “I’m talking about that fellow who is riding toward us now.”

  The Mexican side of Raul’s temperament almost caused him to weep with joy, but the dour Scottish side maintained control. “I can’t believe it. Angel! Angelito Moreno!”

  Angel jumped from his saddle and embraced Raul. “Si, patron. I am still serving you.”

  “The bandits told me you were dead!”

  Guillermo interrupted. “He damn near was. He staggered into the ranch a few days ago and was delirious. I’ll never know how he managed to find us.”

  “The bandidos took away everything I had while I was unconscious,” Angel explained. “Even my boots. They must have thought I was dead. When I finally regained my senses it was dark and I knew they had taken you and the señorita away. I remembered you told me that Rancho San Andres was to the west. So I went west. It seemed I walked for a very long time. Never have I known such heat and thirst, patron.”

  “He gave us the whole story, little brother,” Roberto said. “All about the girl, your duel, the bandits, everything. Cristo! You certainly manage to get yourself into the damndest predicaments.”

  “You haven’t heard the half of it,” Raul said.

  The firing died down and now the San Andres cowboys held the advantage. The bandits, those unhurt, held their hands high as they were herded into a convenient mass. Now they knew how their victims felt when raided and overwhelmed. They had been caught flat-footed, unready and vulnerable with their family and possessions at risk.

  Raul watched for a few moments as the vaqueros prepared to burn down the huts. He turned to his brothers. “Excuse me. I have some good news to deliver to someone special.” The ordeal of the previous hours still affected him, but this fresh exhilaration dulled the fatigue and pain. He rushed past the prisoners, threading his way through the hovels and wickiups until he reached El Demonio’s house. He slammed against the side door so hard it splintered as it crashed inward. He entered and saw Loretta, looking up at him. “Raul!”

  Raul took her in his arms and kissed her. “We finally made it, Loretta. My brothers are here with men from our ranch. And Angel too. It’s a long story.”

  Loretta pressed against him. “But the bandits and Demonio? What about them?”

  “Dead or prisoners,” he said. “I haven’t had a chance to check on them.” He took her hand and led her outside. “Come on. I want you to meet my brothers.”

  She stopped. “No.”

  “Loretta!”

  “No,” she repeated.

  Now he understood. “You’re heading back to civilization now. It’s time for you to prepare for it.”

  Loretta started to protest, but relented, allowing him to take her through the camp. She saw the huddled mesa people, now silent and fearful under the guns of the vaqueros. Raul walked with her up to his brothers.

  Roberto smiled at her. “You must be Loretta.” He introduced himself and Guillermo.

  Loretta nodded and smiled, clinging to Raul.

  Raul looked around. “Is Demonio among the prisoners?”

  “No,” Roberto answered. “We can’t find him.”

  “Give me some ammunition,” Raul said.

  “Wait up, little brother,” Guillermo warned him. “You’re tired and unsteady. We’ll make a search and scour this place until we dig him out.”

  “Give me some godamn ammunition!”

  Roberto nodded his permission. “Let him have it. It’s something he must do.”

  “Wait, patron,” Angel said. He led Borrasca up to him. “Your pistols are in the saddlebags. Take them with you.”

  Raul buckled on his familiar guns, then took a bandoleer from Roberto and reloaded the carbine.

  “I will wait with Borrasca,” Angel said. “We shall ride out of here together. Si Dios quiere — God willing.”

  “Gracias,” Raul said, smiling grimly. Then he turned to face the outer fringes of the camp. He took a deep breath and shouted. “Demonio! This is Raul Mackenzie! I am coming to kill you!”

  There was a brief moment of silence, then an answering call came from the high boulders. “Come and die, Mackenzie! Then I will not regret my own death.”

  Roberto reached out and laid a hand on Raul’s shoulder. “Are you sure you want to go?”

  “I’m sure.”

  “It’s going to be him or you,” Roberto warned him. “Or both of you.”

  “Raul, don’t go!” Loretta pleaded. “You have already won.”

  “He must go,” Guillermo gently told her.

  “But why?” Loretta asked tearfully. “It seems so senseless.”

  Guillermo shrugged. “It’s hard to explain. But right now he’s more Mendoza than Mackenzie.”

  Raul, with the carbine at the ready, walked toward the rise in the terrain, then rushed between the last hut and the rocks. Two spurts of dirt kicked up behind him and the ricochets whined off into the air.

  “Next time I will not miss!” El Demonio promised from his hiding place.

  Raul crept upward along a crevice bordered by manzanita. When he reached the end of the concealed area he waited a beat. He rapidly cranked the cocking lever, and pulled the trigger, going through three firing cycles as he crossed the small space between the rock formations. He settled down to see if El Demonio would make a move.

  “Demonio!” Raul yelled. “Come on out and play, eh?”

  No answer.

  “What is the matter?” Raul asked. “You and I used to be such good friends. Is it something I said?”

  No answer.

  It was now evident the bandit chief was going to sit tight and wait for a sure shot. That could only mean one thing as far as Raul was concerned. El Demonio was short of ammunition. That gave Raul a very risky idea. If he were unlucky he would catch a bullet…or two…or three. He stood up.

  El Demonio sprang into view. His right arm was in a sling, but his left hand held a pistol. The first shot splattered pieces out of a rock at Raul’s side. The second missed.

  Raul, knowing he didn’t have time to aim carefully, fired a bullet that flew off into space. El De
monio took a chance of his own, now aiming carefully. The weapon didn’t fire.

  “That is it, hijo de la chingada!” Raul yelled, rushing upward.

  When he reached the bandit chief, both men stood on the edge of the mesa, the desert floor hundreds of feet below. El Demonio dropped his empty pistol and smiled. “Well, Mackenzie, you have tried and succeeded where an army of Rurales have been failing for years.”

  “Do not reach inside that sling,” Raul warned him.

  “Do not worry. There is nothing in there but a lame arm.”

  Raul motioned with the carbine. “Move down here and we will head back to the camp.”

  “I am not going, Mackenzie. And I do not want you to kill me. I would prefer to cheat you out of that pleasure. Adios.”

  The bandit chief took two quick steps toward the edge of the vertical tower of earth that formed his mesa, and made a vigorous leap out into the void. Raul rushed to the edge and looked down.

  El Demonio fell halfway down the mesa’s height before hitting an outcrop of rocks. He bounced off into a slow somersault as he hurtled downward. When he struck the ground, dust flew up from the impact, then gently settled down on the corpse.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The hired girl concentrated on her chore as she pulled a wet shirt out of the laundry basket, then hung it on the clothesline at the side of the ranch house. Suddenly she stopped her work and stared out at the road at the three riders approaching. She watched them until they drew closer, then she turned and ran to the house. “Señora! Señora!”

  Mrs. Slattery came to the door and stepped out on the porch. “What is it for heaven’s sake, Victoria?”

  The maid pulled her off the porch and pointed to the riders. “Look!”

  Mrs. Slattery strained her weak eyes until they widened with happy surprise. “Freddy! Freddy!”

  Her son, stacking bales of oats in the barn, stopped his work. He looked out the door toward the house. “Whataya want, Ma?”

  “Go fetch your pa!”

  “What for, Ma? Is something wrong?”

  “You go fetch your pa right now or I’ll switch your britches, you hear?”

  “Yes, ma’am!”

  Freddie ran out of the barn toward the corral where his father was supervising a crew breaking in some horses destined for sale to the army.

  While Freddy was fetching his father, Loretta Slattery led the way into the ranch yard with Raul and Angel following. “Aunt May!” she called out.

  “Oh, Loretta, I’m so happy to see you!” Mrs. Slattery exclaimed. “Just wait’ll your uncle gets here.” Loretta dismounted and greeted her aunt with a heartfelt embrace. Mrs. Slattery was so overcome she could barely form words. “Sweet Lord, child…we thought we’d never…that you had…” She dissolved into happy tears.

  “You can thank these two gentlemen who rescued me,” Loretta said. “You already know Raul. The other is Angel Moreno. He doesn’t speak any English, but he was right there with us all the way.”

  “Good afternoon, Mrs. Slattery,” Raul said.

  “How do, Mr. Mackenzie,” she replied. She took another look at Loretta, then turned back to him. “You did proud.”

  “I’m pleased you think so.”

  Slattery ran up breathing hard, his face red with the effort of exerting himself. “Loretta darling!” He hugged her hard. “How are you, sweetheart?”

  “I’m fine, Uncle Fred.”

  Freddy, bashful, hung back. He waved timidly at his cousin, then looked up at Raul. “Howdy, mister. Who’s the Mezkin?”

  “His name is Angel,” Raul answered. “If it wasn’t for him, we’d never had made it back.”

  Slattery pulled Loretta to him again, then held her at arm’s length. “Well, let’s have a good look at you.”

  She stepped back. “See, Uncle Fred? I’m just as fine as can be.”

  “You sure are. You go on in the house with your aunt, and get settled in now.” He turned to Raul. “Is that your horse she rode in on?”

  “Not really.”

  “Freddy, take Loretta’s horse into the barn. Unsaddle it, rub it down and water it. He’s been rode a spell.”

  “It has at that,” Raul said.

  “Ya’ll c’mon in the house with me.”

  “Sure, Mr. Slattery,” Raul replied. He motioned to Angel and the two men swung out of their saddles.

  Slattery took them through the house and offered them seats in his office. He poured three tumblers of rye whiskey and gave them each one. Then he took a drink from his own. “Who’s this Mezkin?”

  “His name’s Angel Moreno,” Raul told him. He pointed to Slattery. “Es el tio de Loretta — he’s Loretta’s uncle.”

  “Mucho gusto, señor,” Angel said politely.

  “You didn’t say nothing about a partner,” Slattery said. “We had a written agreement, remember?”

  “The entire payment goes to Angel,” Raul explained. “He’s the one responsible for getting Loretta out of there.”

  “Out of where?” Slattery asked.

  “It’s a long story,” Raul said. “And I’m not in the mood for any extended conversation.”

  “Well,” Slattery conceded, “in that case I’ll have to ask Loretta about all the details later.”

  “Good idea,” Raul remarked.

  “How much did you have to pay for her?” Slattery inquired.

  Raul thought of the gunfights, the duel and his near execution among other things. “Nothing.”

  “Nothing?” Slattery laughed. “Why, hell’s bells, Mackenzie, you’re a damn sight slicker’n I gave you credit for. Let’s see how much I owe you then.”

  Raul pointed to Angel. “You owe him.”

  “Fine with me,” Slattery said. He fished around in his desk drawer and found the contract they had agreed on. “Let’s see here. It says five hunnerd for you — for him now — and any amount under a thousand for the ransom.”

  “We’re a thousand under a thousand,” Raul said.

  “Well, sir, you’re right about that. It appears I owe this feller a total of one thousand, five-hunnerd dollars, don’t it?”

  “That you do,” Raul agreed.

  “And I always pay what I owe,” Slattery said, going to his safe. “You might tell him that’s a motto them Mezkins oughta adopt.”

  “What did he say, patron?” Angel asked.

  “He said you did a good job and he is most happy to pay you.”

  “He seems a fine gentleman,” Angel opined with a smile.

  “Oh, he is,” Raul dryly agreed.

  Slattery counted out the money and handed it to Angel. The young Mexican took it, saying, “Muchas gracias.”

  Slattery looked at Raul. “That means ‘thanks’, don’t it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Hell,” Slattery said. “Why cain’t he just say it in plain English and be done with it?”

  “It’s a custom,” Raul explained. Slattery offered a handshake to Raul. “You done a good job Mackenzie.” He hesitated, then held out a hand to Angel.

  Angel shook with the man, grinning happily

  “Well!” Raul said. “I’d like to say goodbye to Loretta.”

  “Surely,” Slattery said. “She’ll be in the living room.”

  “I shall wait outside, patron,” Angel said, sensing the meaning of the words he didn’t understand. “Give the señorita my farewells.”

  “I will.”

  Raul went into the living room, and saw Loretta seated on the sofa with her aunt When May Slattery noticed the two looking at each other, she stood up. “Well, there’s some things that need doing in the kitchen.”

  Loretta smiled at him. “Oh, Raul, I don’t know what to say.”

  She looked beautiful sitting there and if he had ever wanted her before, it had never been so much as at that moment. But he knew it was useless. He wasn’t destined to settle into one place and forge any permanent arrangements. At least not at that moment, and probably not for many years.
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br />   “I just wanted to say goodbye.”

  She stood up and walked to him. “You did more than just bring me to freedom, Raul. You saved my soul. And my self respect.”

  “How’s that?”

  “After the last time they caught us, I spent a lot of time thinking. Perhaps I wasn’t as soiled or disgraced as I thought if a fine young man like you would risk his life for me. And that includes Angel. I knew then that if I returned home I would be able to take up a normal life again.”

  “I’m glad you’re at peace with yourself,” Raul said with deep sincerity. “That means a lot to me.”

  Loretta smiled. “I never said thank you, did I?”

  “You did in a lot of ways besides speaking out.”

  The couple looked into each other’s eyes, conscious that each of them were on the verge of a decision. Loretta started to speak, but she could see that Raul had suddenly come to a realization of what was best for them both. She stepped forward and kissed his face, then threw her arms around his neck. She could sense her loss and hated accepting it. “Raul, you’re very special to me.”

  “Then it’s all been worth it,” he said, knowing it was time to leave. He gently freed himself and went to the door. There was nothing left to say except the obvious. “Goodbye, Loretta.”

  “Can’t you stay? Even for a little while, Raul?”

  He put on his sombrero. “No. I can’t stay, Loretta. Angel is waiting for me.”

  Loretta showed her understanding with a nod of farewell. “Goodbye to you, Raul Mackenzie-Mendoza.”

  ~*~

  The fork in the road offered two choices; north or south. Raul and Angel sat on their horses in the middle.

  “I think we should split the money, patron.”

  “No,” Raul insisted. “You keep it, Angel.”

  “You are very generous,” Angel said. “Just like your brothers when they took that poor girl home with them.”

  “They were also grateful,” Raul said. “She was the one who took me down from the gallows. Roberto said she could work in the ranch store. Her father had a tienda, and she knows how to keep books.”

  “She feels she cannot go home, eh, patron?”

  “Sadly, yes,” Raul said. “But she will be happy at Rancho San Andres. No doubt she will find a husband there.” He shifted in his saddle. “So you are going south, eh?”