Lone Star Ranger : A Ranger to Ride With (9781310568404)

by Griffin, James J.

  “Sure, sure, that’d be okay.”

  “We’re much obliged. Tim, you and Tom round up any grub you can find. Tim, you’ll be cook tonight. I reckon we’d better set up a guard overnight, just in case those renegades send a couple of men back to see if they missed anything. I’ll set the watches after supper. Nate, what happened to your shirt? You’re gonna need it.”

  “My brother and I were washin’ up for supper when those men attacked us. I think it must’ve burned up with the cabin. Might still be by the wash bench, though.”

  “Good. Hoot, you see if you can rustle up Nate’s shirt. If not, get him your spare. It’ll be a mite too big for him, but you’re the closest to his size.”

  “Right away, Bob.”

  “Dan, Ed, take care of the dead. Make sure you cover ’em good so the scavengers can’t get at ’em.”

  “Um, Bob?” Morton said.

  “Yeah, Dan?”

  “What about the dead outlaw? Doesn’t seem fittin’ he should be planted here with the folks he helped murder.”

  “You’re right,” Bob agreed. “Take him off somewhere and dig a shallow grave for him, or leave him for the buzzards and coyotes. Far as I’m concerned, that’s all he deserves. Jim, get the horses settled. Nate, if you feel you’re up to it, I’d like to ask you a few questions. That’ll help us when we catch up to the men who did this.”

  “I’ll try to answer them, if I can,” Nathaniel said.

  “Good. Jeb, you stay here with me. The rest of you, get busy.”

  While the other Rangers went about setting up camp for the night, Bob and Jeb questioned Nathaniel about the attack on the Stewart ranch earlier that day.

  “Nate, just tell me as best you can what exactly happened,” Bob requested.

  “Sure,” Nate answered. “Like I said before, Jonathan and I were just washin’ up for supper. We heard a bunch of men ridin’ real fast. Jonathan spotted ’em first and pulled out his gun. My dad must’ve heard ’em too, because he came outside holdin’ his shotgun. They killed him, first thing. Then Jonathan pushed me behind the trough. He shot one of the outlaws, then he got shot. I knew he was dead, the way he fell. So I crawled over to him, got his gun, and managed to get off a shot. Didn’t knock anyone off his horse like Jonathan did, though. I’m not much good with a gun or horse. Jonathan certainly was. He loved bein’ a cowboy.”

  “I’m sure he did,” Bob said. “Nate, do you recollect how you got in the root cellar?”

  “No, I surely don’t.” Nathaniel shook his head. “All I remember is firin’ Jonathan’s gun, then everything went black. I guess I must have come to, then crawled into the cellar. I figure I was lucky those men didn’t see I was still alive.”

  “You sure were, son,” Jeb agreed. “Dang lucky. Nate, we didn’t find any six-gun near you, nor your brother. My guess is one of those hombres must’ve picked up the gun while you were still unconscious. Can you tell us how many there were?”

  “I’m not sure. Nine or ten, maybe a couple more.”

  “Can you tell us what any of them looked like?” Bob asked.

  Again, Nathaniel shook his head. “I wish I could, but I can’t. Everything happened so fast.”

  “It’s all right,” Bob reassured him.

  “Nate, you don’t happen to know what kind of pistol your brother wore, do you?” Jeb asked.

  “I sure do. It was a Smith and Wesson American cartridge revolver. Jonathan was real proud of that gun. He even had his initials carved into the handle. He liked to talk about how much better his cartridge gun was than the old-fashioned cap and ball Colts.”

  Bob and Jeb exchanged glances. Jeb whistled.

  “That’s a mighty rare gun in these parts,” he said. “If we find the man carryin’ that Smith and Wesson, it’s more’n likely he’ll be one of the men who killed your folks.”

  “What about any horses?” Bob continued. “We didn’t find any around the place, so those raiders must’ve stolen them along with the cattle. What’s your horse look like?”

  “I didn’t have one,” Nathaniel said. “Never much liked horses. My brother had one, though. A sorrel he called Big Red. Red had a star on his forehead and one white foot.”

  “Which foot?”

  “The left front.”

  “So if we find your brother’s horse that will also help identify the raiders,” Bob said. “What about brands? What was your dad’s brand?”

  “My dad wouldn’t brand his cattle,” Nathaniel said. “He thought it was cruel. Jonathan’s horse wasn’t branded either. Neither was Buck, our plow horse.”

  “Just like Sam Maverick,” Jeb said. “Well, there goes any chance of provin’ the stolen cattle came from this place. Bob, I reckon it’s time we let Nate try’n get a little rest. He might want some time with his folks, too.”

  “That’s a good idea, Jeb. You go with him. Nate, it’s not gonna be easy for you, but you should probably take Jeb’s suggestion. Take as much time as you need with your family. Say some prayers for ’em and tell ’em you love ’em. Cry over ’em if you need to. There’s no shame in that. Jeb’ll stay with you long as you need. By the time you’re set, supper should be ready. We need to get settled what you’re gonna do next. We can talk about that while we eat.”

  Jeb put his arm around Nathaniel’s shoulders.

  “C’mon, Nate. It’s time you said goodbye to your folks.”

  He took Nathaniel to where his parents and brother lay side by side, covered with blankets.

  “Nate, you want me to stay with you, or would you rather be by yourself for a few minutes?”

  “I think I’d like the company,” Nate said. His voice quivered and his chin trembled as he struggled to keep him emotions in check.

  “All right. I’ll be here long as you need. Do you want to see their faces again, or just remember ’em the way you last saw ’em?”

  “I… I don’t rightly know.”

  Tears began streaming down Nathaniel’s cheeks, and he broke into sobs. He stood crying for a few moments, then uncovered his mother, father and brother. Luckily, none of their faces bore any wounds. They looked peaceful in death.

  “Jonathan,” Nathaniel said. “I’m sure gonna miss you, big brother. I guess you’ll never get the chance to teach me how to cowboy. Maybe that’s for the best. I’d probably just have made a fool of myself, or fallen off Big Red and broken my neck. I don’t have the knack for cowboyin’ that you did.”

  A sob wracked his body before he could continue.

  “Pa, I know making a go of it in Texas was your dream. If you can hear me, even though you might not believe this, I wanted it to come true for you. Yeah, I wanted to go back home, but I sure would never have left you and Ma. I hope God has a ranch for you up in Heaven.”

  “Ma, I love you so much. I don’t know what else to say, except that I’ll always try and make you proud of me. You’re the best mother anyone could ask for. I wish I could’ve done something to stop you from dying. There’s some Texas Rangers here who are after the men who did this. Once they catch them, they’ll take care of them. They promised me that. Guess there’s not much else to say, except I’ll pray to God for you every day, that you’re all with Him.”

  Nathaniel knelt alongside his mother and father and bent down to kiss them goodbye, then tousled Jonathan’s hair one last time. He pulled the blankets back over their faces.

  “I’m ready, Jeb.”

  His head bent in sorrow, Nathaniel started back for where the Rangers were gathering for supper, with Jeb at his side. They had gone perhaps a hundred feet when Nathaniel turned back to gaze at the bodies of his parents and brother. The sorrow in his eyes now changed to a look of anger.

  “Pa, Ma, Jonathan,” he shouted. “I’m goin’ to make sure those men pay for what they did to you. I don’t know when, or how, but no matter how long it takes, I’ll make them pay.”

  “Now’s not the time to worry about that, son,” Jeb said. “Right now, you need food and sleep. Let�
�s go eat.”

  Out of respect for Nathaniel, supper was a mostly silent affair, without the usual joking and kidding that ordinarily was part of the evening meal, a way for the hard-riding Rangers, who faced danger and death almost every day, to release tension and let off steam. Instead of the ordinary meal of beans, bacon, and biscuits, there were thick beefsteaks. Nathaniel, despite his loss, was hungrier than he realized, and downed a plateful of steak, beans, and half a dozen biscuits. However, he winced at his first taste of the strong black coffee the Rangers drank. It was a much more bitter brew than what his mother had made.

  “Coffee a little strong for you, Nate?” Bob asked.

  “No. No, not at all,” Nathaniel said, still choking. “Just a bit more bite to it than what my ma made.”

  “Coffee like this keeps a man goin’,” Dan said. “That, and good grub. Tim, you did a fine job cookin’ up these steaks. Sure were a welcome change from bacon. You put that cow to good use.”

  “Quiet, Dan,” Bob warned. “Watch your tongue.”

  Nathaniel had stabbed another piece of meat with his fork. He stopped with it halfway to his mouth and looked at it.

  “Where… where’d you get this meat?”

  “Just some ol’ cow me’n Tom found lyin’ dead in the scrub,” Tim said.

  Nathaniel looked at the burned remains of the cowshed and enclosure which had held Bess, the milk cow. She was nowhere in sight.

  “Tell me the truth, Tim. This here meat’s from Bess, our cow, ain’t it? Ain’t it?”

  “Yeah, I reckon it is,” Tim answered, not quite able to meet Nathaniel’s gaze. “Sorry, Nate.”

  “Nate, those raiders killed your cow,” Jeb tried to explain. “We hardly ever see fresh meat, unless one of us downs a pronghorn or mebbe a javelina, so it just didn’t seem right to let that meat go to waste. If we hadn’t taken it, the coyotes and buzzards would have ripped her apart, then whatever they left the flies would have gone after. At least this way your cow filled the bellies of some mighty tired and hungry men, rather than the scavengers. Try’n understand, son.”

  Nathaniel dropped his plate to the dirt.

  “I’m not hungry, all of a sudden. I guess I’ll try and get some sleep now.”

  He went over to where the Rangers had made him a bed out of their spare blankets, pulled off his boots, and slid under the covers. His soft sobs drifted on the night air.

  “I’m sorry, fellers,” Dan said. “Didn’t mean to upset the boy like that.”

  “It’s not your fault, Dan,” Bob assured him. “He would’ve figured it out sooner or later anyway. He’s had a big loss today, and this is just one more thing that’s gone from his life. Right now, cryin’ to get the hurt out of him’s probably the best thing for him. That, and sleep. Speaking of which, we’ve got a lot of hard ridin’ ahead of us tomorrow. It’s time we turn in. Dan, you and Ed take the first watch. Jim and Hoot will relieve you. Jeb and I will take third. Tim and Tom, you’ll have the last watch. Now, let’s clean up and get to bed.”

  3

  The Rangers wanted to resume their pursuit of the outlaws as soon as possible, but first they had to attend to the somber task of burying Nathaniel’s parents and brother, so Bob roused them an hour before sunrise. He let Nathaniel sleep a bit later than his men.

  “Nate, time to get up,” he said, gently shaking the boy’s shoulders. “We’ve got a long day ahead of us.”

  “Huh?” Nathaniel lay there for a moment, confused, then the memories of the day previous came flooding back. He sat up, blearily, and rubbed sleep from his eyes.

  “How’d you sleep, son? And how’s your head?”

  “All right, I guess. My head’s still sore, but doesn’t hurt all that bad.” Despite everything that had happened, exhaustion had finally overtaken Nathaniel, so he slept soundly once he drifted off.

  “Good. Breakfast’ll be ready soon. By the time we eat, the sun’ll be just comin’ up. We’ll bury your folks then. Meantime, take care of what needs doin’. Tom’s got a bucket of water for washin’ up.”

  Nathaniel tossed back the blankets and stood up, looking around in confusion for a moment. He knew what the lieutenant meant by taking care of what needed doin’, but where to do it? The outhouse had burned along with the rest of the buildings. He decided on a large clump of four-foot-high prickly pear a few yards off. He headed behind that, relieved himself, then joined the Rangers, who were already gathered around a fire, eating. They greeted him warmly, their eyes friendly. All of those men had lost friends or loved ones to outlaws, so they understood exactly what Nathaniel was going through. He splashed water from the bucket on his face and neck, then Tom handed him a tin plate containing biscuits and beans, and a tin mug of coffee.

  “It ain’t the fanciest grub, Nate, but it’s tasty, and it’ll stick to your ribs.”

  “Thanks, Tom.” Nathaniel took a fork and knife, then began digging into his food.

  “Nate, we have to decide what to do with you,” Bob said while they ate. “You can’t stay here by yourself, that’s for certain. Do you have any kin who might take you in?”

  “I’ve got an aunt and uncle back in Delaware, but I don’t know about livin’ with ’em.”

  “Why not?”

  “They’ve got eight kids of their own. Takin’ in another mouth to feed would be mighty hard on ’em. Besides, my Aunt Ida’s all right, but my Uncle Henry don’t like me all that much. Me’n him don’t see eye to eye.”

  “I see. And you have no relatives in Texas.”

  “No. My pa decided to move down here. My folks and Jonathan were my only family, besides Aunt Ida and Uncle Henry.”

  “How about any friends? Do you think there’s someone in San Saba you could stay with, at least until you decide for certain what you want to do?”

  “No, not anyone. We didn’t get into town all that often. I don’t know anybody there, except maybe to say hello.”

  “Nate, I hate to keep askin’ these questions, but they are important,” Bob said. “Did your father have any money about the place, or perhaps in the San Saba bank?”

  “He had an account at the bank, now that you mention it. I’m not sure how much money was left, though. I think he took a lot of it to spend fixin’ up the ranch.”

  Bob sighed.

  “Well, we have a real problem here. Nate, we have to get back on the trail of those renegades. You surely can’t come with us.”

  “Why not, Bob?” Hoot asked.

  “Well, for one thing, Nate’s too young. He’s also admitted he’s not much of a rider. He wouldn’t be able to keep up with us. For that matter, he’s got no horse. Nate, I think the best thing for you to do would be go into San Saba and see if your dad had any money left in the bank. If he did, it’s yours now. Take that out, buy some new clothes, then use the rest to get home to Delaware. I also think you should have a doctor check that head wound. Jim’s real good, as far as it goes, but you really need to have a real physician check you over.”

  “But I don’t want to leave my folks behind,” Nathaniel answered. His eyes welled with tears.

  “I know you don’t, son. But think this through. You’ve got no living family here and no friends. Where would you live? What would you do for money? At least back in Delaware you have an aunt who will take care of you. And perhaps you can patch things up with your uncle. I don’t see where there’s a choice here. Jeb.”

  “Yeah, Bob?”

  “You’ve got some leave coming. I want you to take that. You’ll bring Nate to San Saba. Find him a doctor first off, then see to what else needs tending. Stay with him until his affairs are settled and he’s on a stage heading back north, to get a train back home. You needn’t worry about catching up with us once Nate is on his way. Just head back to where the rest of the company’s camped. We should be back there by the time you arrive.”

  “Sure. Nate, like the lieutenant says, goin’ home would be the best thing for you. Right now you’re at loose ends. A lot of bad thi
ngs have happened to you. You need to go home and be with your kinfolks. Trust me and Bob, it’s for the best.”

  “I guess maybe you’re right,” Nate conceded.

  “You’ll see we are,” Bob said. “Now, we’ve got to tend to the buryin’, so we can get back on the trail.”

  ***

  Three graves had been dug by the Rangers the night before, under the same dying cottonwood where Nathaniel’s wound had been treated. A fourth, shallow grave, unmarked and five hundred yards distant, already held the body of the dead outlaw. Nathaniel’s mother, father, and brother lay alongside the open graves, their bodies wrapped in blankets.

  The Rangers and Nathaniel gathered somberly around the open graves. Jim and Ed carefully lowered first Marcus, then Adele, and finally Jonathan into their final resting places. The Rangers removed their hats and stood while their Lieutenant gave a short prayer.

  “Lord,” he began, “Ain’t none of us here really church-goin’ men, but we all believe in You, and that someday we’ll be with You in Heaven. We know not Your ways, but we are certain that Marcus, Adele, and Jonathan Stewart are with You right now, in the peace of Your love and mercy. Grant them eternal rest. We also pray that You keep their son and brother Nathaniel safe, and help guide him in this time of his trials. Amen.”

  “Amen,” the Rangers and Nathaniel echoed.

  “And Lord, if You could help us bring the outlaws who murdered these innocent people to justice, we’d sure appreciate that. Amen.”

  “Amen.”

  “Guess there’s nothing else to say, Lord. Amen.”

  “Amen.”

  “Nate.” Bob gave Nathaniel several clods of earth. Nathaniel tossed those on each of the bodies, then the Rangers filled in the graves. Crude wooden crosses with the names of the deceased were placed at the head of each. Once that was done, the Rangers, except for Jeb, saddled their horses, mounted up and rode off. Jeb placed an arm around Nathaniel’s shoulders.