“All right.”
Quincy went over to Nate and Andy.
“Nate, Andy, Shorty tells me you both did a fine job holdin’ off those bushwhackers,” he said.
“Thanks, Cap’n,” Nate answered.
“Yeah, thanks, Cap’n Dave,” Andy added. “How about you and the rest of the boys?”
“We got ambushed too. Rode right into it, thanks to Fredericks. Clearly, he was working hand-in-hand with this gang.”
“Anybody killed?”
“Sadly, yes. We lost Ed, Tex, Tad, and Bill. Six men were wounded too, but they’ll all recover.”
“That’s good. That’s… good.”
“Take it easy, Andy. Just rest.”
“Cap’n,” Hoot spoke up, “The leader of those raiders was a real pale hombre, ridin’ a white horse. Has to be the same bunch that murdered Nate’s folks. He says it was.”
“It was. I recognized his horse soon as I saw it,” Nate said. “Had forgotten about it until then.”
“Cap’n, I shot that ghost rider four or five times, at least,” Hoot continued. “Mebbe more. Never even fazed him. He just flinched a little, then kept on ridin’.”
“I got him too, Cap’n,” Nate said. “Right plumb in the middle of his belly. Saw the dust fly from his shirt where my bullet hit. All he did was grunt a little, then put two slugs in me.”
“You reckon that ain’t no human, but a ghost, Cap’n?” Hoot asked.
“He’s no ghost, I guarantee you that. He’s a man, a dangerous one, and it appears he’s adding members to his gang. We killed some of the ones who ambushed us, but I have to admit, we took a lickin’. He’s also getting more bold, ambushing a company of Texas Rangers. That will be his downfall, gentlemen. No one—I repeat, no one—kills a Ranger and gets away with it.”
“Get him for me and the rest of the boys, will ya, Cap’n?” Andy asked.
“You have my solemn promise on that, son.”
“Good.” Andy turned his head to look at Nate. “Nate, pard…”
“Yeah, Andy?”
“Remember after your fight with Hoot, when Jeb said you might as well have had a target painted on your belly?”
“Yep. Sure do.”
“Guess… guess it was really me who had the target on his belly, and one of those bushwhackers hit it dead center.”
Andy laughed softly, let out a sigh, and lay still.
“Andy. Andy!”
“He’s gone, Nate,” Quincy half-whispered.
Nate buried his face in his hands and wept.
***
“Nate, you’ll be fine in a few weeks,” Jim said, as he tied the youngster’s arm in a sling. “You won’t be able to use your gun arm for a spell, and your chest’ll be sore for awhile, but all things considered, you were dang lucky, son.”
“I know,” Nate said. “Just wish I could’ve done more for Andy and Tim.”
“You did everything anyone could, son. Don’t trouble yourself over what happened. All of the men who died here would tell you the same thing. Every one of us Rangers knows we could catch a bullet that ends our lives just about anytime. It goes with the territory, and we all accept that. You’ll come to learn that, too. Now, it’s time for the buryin’. We’d best get out there. And don’t worry if you start cryin’ durin’ the service. Ain’t no shame in that. Most of the men will.”
The rest of the men were already gathered around six graves dug on a high point of the riverbank, where there was a view of the San Saba and the plains rolling into the distance. Six wooden crosses with the names of the deceased were at the heads of the graves, and the blanket-wrapped bodies of the six murdered Rangers lay alongside the graves. The bodies of the ambushers would not be buried. They had been pulled into the brush for the scavengers to feed on.
“At least they’ll do the buzzards and coyotes some good,” Jeb had said, when the last man was dragged away.
“We’re here, Cap’n,” Jim said when he and Nate reached the group.
“Fine. Then we’ll get started.”
The men removed their hats and bowed their heads.
“Lord,” Captain Quincy intoned, “Today we return to the earth the bodies of six brave men, Timothy Tomlinson, Andrew Pratt, Tad Cooper, Jordan “Tex” Carlson, Edward Jennings, and William Tuttle. They were as fine and brave as any man who rides to enforce the law, as well as being fine friends. Now, as we return their bodies to the earth, we commend their immortal souls to You. We pray, Lord, that You give them comfort, peace, and eternal rest. Amen.”
“Amen.”
“Lord, in the memory of these fine men, we ask Your assistance in bringing their murderers to justice. Please, hear our plea, Lord, in the name of all good, honest people, and because You, Yourself, are infinitely good and merciful. In the Good Book it is written, ‘Justice is Mine, sayeth the Lord’, but we’re here to offer You some Ranger help in meting out that justice. Amen.”
“Amen.”
“Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Take care of our pards and friends, Lord, until we ride with them again in Your green pastures. Amen.”
“Amen.”
Percy Leaping Buck laid an eagle feather on the bodies of the six Rangers, which were then lowered slowly and gently into the graves. As Captain Quincy tossed the first clods of dirt on each body, Nate looked to the sky and made a silent, solemn vow of his own.
“Lord, I know You say justice and vengeance are Yours. I respect that, Lord. But I ain’t gonna rest until that blue-eyed devil who took my ma and pa and brother away from me is dead. Whether I do that ridin’ with the Rangers or on my own is up to You and Cap’n Quincy. But I will see that pasty-faced, pale-eyed son of Satan in the ground. You can count on that, Lord. Amen.”
Coming soon: LONE STAR RANGER Vol. 2
About the Author
Jim Griffin became enamored of the Texas Rangers from watching the TV series, Tales of the Texas Rangers, as a youngster. He grew to be an avid student and collector of Rangers' artifacts, memorabilia and other items. His collection is now housed in the Texas Ranger Hall of Fame and Museum in Waco.
His quest for authenticity in his writing has taken him to the famous Old West towns of, Pecos, Deadwood, Cheyenne, Tombstone and numerous others. While Jim's books are fiction, he strives to keep them as accurate as possible within the realm of fiction.
A graduate of Southern Connecticut State University, Jim now divides his time between Branford, Connecticut and Keene, New Hampshire when he isn't travelling around the west.
A devoted and enthusiastic horseman, Jim bought his first horse when he was a junior in college. He has owned several American Paint horses. He is a member of the Connecticut Horse Council Volunteer Horse Patrol, an organization which assists the state park Rangers with patrolling parks and forests.
Jim's books are traditional Westerns in the best sense of the term, portraying strong heroes with good character and moral values. Highly reminiscent of the pulp westerns of yesteryear, the heroes and villains are clearly separated.
Jim was initially inspired to write at the urging of friend and author James Reasoner. After the successful publication of his first book, Trouble Rides the Texas Pacific, published in 2005, Jim was encouraged to continue his writing.
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