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by Deborah Chester


  From his saddle, Noel stared down at the bared head of the boy, seeing the straight young shoulders, the deepening chest that spoke of approaching manhood, the spattering of freckles on an honest face. He wanted to tell Cody not to worry, to not try so hard to make the decisions of a man, to stay a boy because today was his last day, and he was perfect as he was.

  But he couldn’t say any of those things.

  Noel glanced up at the sky, squinting against the harsh sunlight that made his eyes water. Why does he have to die? But he knew why, and his own reluctance to see it happen was a throbbing force that grew. He had the sudden, wild urge to seize Cody’s reins and lead the boy in a gallop to safety, far away from these men and the events that were converging. But he couldn’t. Deep inside himself, he was unwilling to lose his own history, his own future, his own place in time—even if he remained trapped forever. He wondered if he was a coward to cling so selfishly to his history. But he knew he could do nothing else. His training and his conscience would not let him alter history, no matter how great the temptation.

  “Noel,” said Cody, looking up at him with trust and affection, “is something wrong? You crying?”

  Noel frowned and looked away hurriedly. “No,” he said, blinking. “Got dust in my eyes. Get back on.”

  Cody mounted, and they caught up with the other riders. Another quarter mile of steady riding, and Don Emilio called a halt. Although his vaqueros scorned carrying canteens as a gringo weakness, Don Emilio helped himself to water and handed his canteen courteously to Lisa-Marie. Then he rode his dusty black stallion back to join Noel and Cody.

  “We are across the border,” he said.

  “Yeah,” said Cody. “This is Double T land. The canyon is in those ridges.”

  Don Emilio frowned. “I have ridden through those ridges many times, and never did I find Silver Canyon.”

  “They wind around. It’s easy to miss the right way in,” said Cody.

  Don Emilio’s hazel eyes narrowed. He looked tired and close to the end of his patience. “Will you show us, so that we can rescue your grandfather quickly, or do you intend to make the old man suffer?”

  Cody turned red. “That’s not fair. We can’t just ride into the canyon. They’d have us, and how could we rescue ourselves, much less him?”

  “He has a point,” said Noel.

  Before Don Emilio could reply, a shout from a vaquero alerted them. A rider was coming at a gallop, dust fogging in his wake. He rode right into their midst before he reined up, and appeared oblivious to the drawn pistols and rifles aimed at him.

  Noel stiffened in his saddle and kicked his horse toward the newcomer. “What are you doing here?” he demanded.

  Leon tipped back his big sombrero and bared his teeth. “You thought you’d gotten rid of me, didn’t you, brother? Well, you didn’t.”

  Noel glared at him. “Thanks to you, we’re stuck here forever.”

  Leon laughed. “I don’t mind. I have friends. And I have wealth.” He drew a chunk of ore from his pocket and tossed it on the ground. The sun sparked silver glints from the stone, and the vaqueros gasped.

  “Hear me!” said Leon loudly. “I bring a message from El Raton. His men are not in the canyon. Just him and the old man. He wants Cody and Lisa-Marie to come in alone.”

  Don Emilio drew himself erect, and the sunlight glittered brightly off the silver conchas adorning his fancy saddle. “I have given orders throughout Chihuahua that El Raton is to be brought to justice and hanged. When he was just a petty cattle rustler, I looked the other way. But he goes too far. The price on his head does not come off. And these children do not walk into his trap.”

  Lisa-Marie glared at Don Emilio. “We aren’t children. This is our affair. We didn’t ask you for—”

  “Hold on,” said Cody hastily. “Don Emilio is here to help us out. Don’t start insulting him—”

  “I’ll say what I think,” she snapped and turned on Leon. “As for you, if anything happens to our grandfather, El Raton will—”

  “Make all the threats you like,” said Leon, leering at her in a way that made Noel long to punch him in the mouth. “But if you want the old man back in one piece, you’ll do as El Raton says. He wants the kids to come to him.”

  Don Emilio and Noel exchanged glances. “I am not such a fool,” said Don Emilio coldly. “Once he has all the Trasks, he will make demands of me.”

  “You don’t owe us,” began Cody, but Don Emilio held up his hand for silence.

  “I will talk to El Raton,” said Don Emilio.

  “Nope,” said Leon. “He said if you go in there, he’ll blow Trask’s head off.”

  Lisa-Marie cried out, and Cody said grimly, “We’ll go.”

  He spurred his horse forward, but Don Emilio grabbed Cody’s reins.

  “Turn loose!” said Cody furiously.

  “Dios, be still!” snapped Don Emilio. “Will you never learn to think before you jump into danger? The man is as wily as the rat he is named for. He cannot be trusted.”

  “He wants us to let him hide out on our land,” said Cody. “You’ve got him just about run out of Mexico. I aim to agree to what he wants. Later on, we’ll get the sheriff to smoke him out.”

  “That will not work.”

  Cody looked him in the eye. “It’s all I got. Come on, Lisa-Marie. Let’s ride.”

  “I am not letting you enter his clutches alone,” said Don Emilio.

  Cody took off his hat and slapped it against his leg. “Didn’t you hear this hombre? If you ride in with us, El Raton will kill Grandpa. I ain’t gonna let that happen.”

  “Nor will I,” said Lisa-Marie.

  Don Emilio glared at her. “Did it never occur to you, muchacha, that your grandfather could already be dead? Did it never occur to you that I would let the man escape, to rob and pillage again, rather than allow him to harm either of you? If you put yourself in his power, you destroy mine.”

  Lisa-Marie looked startled. She blinked at Don Emilio, who regarded her like a block of stone. Remote, unreachable, he stared back, the usual compassion absent from his handsome face. Her blue eyes widened and grew dismayed. Watching, Noel wondered if she had finally realized that Don Emilio had never been her enemy and that she had gone too far with her heedless accusations.

  “Noel?” she asked uncertainly.

  Don Emilio shot Noel a hard glance. Noel waited for him to speak, but he said nothing.

  Noel sighed. “You can’t accuse a man of being in league with the bad guys and then expect him to risk his life for you.”

  Lisa-Marie’s face went scarlet. “I don’t—I didn’t mean it like that. I haven’t asked him to do anything for us.”

  “Sure you have. He keeps holding out his hand in friendship, and you both keep slapping him in the face with an old family feud. He’s giving you good advice right now. You know good and well that if you two ride into the canyon alone, we’ll have to rescue all of you.”

  “But we have to save Grandpa!” cried Lisa-Marie.

  “You are a child,” said Don Emilio, “thinking and reacting impulsively in the way of a child. But even a child may know common civility and courtesy, and depend on them in times of confusion.”

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered, still red-faced. “Please help us.”

  His nostrils flared. His proud Hidalgo look did not melt. For a moment he regarded her in stony silence, then his gaze shifted to Cody. “And you?” he asked curtly. “Do you also think I plotted this abduction with El Raton in order to steal your ranch from you?”

  Cody turned as red as his sister. He would not meet Don Emilio’s eyes. “Uh, no, sir. But Lisa-Marie is right. No matter how big a mistake it is, we’ve got to go in after Grandpa. We’ve got to do it his way. We don’t have a choice.”

  Don Emilio’s mouth tightened. His gaze went to Noel, who said, quietly, “El Raton’s using two kinds of bait, the silver for you and Trask for the twins. Why don’t we give him what he wants, but with a little twi
st?”

  “Explain.”

  Noel looked over at Leon, who was sitting slumped in his saddle, grinning at their argument with one boot heel cocked up on his saddle horn. Noel said to him, “Take off your clothes.”

  Leon jerked erect and his foot swung down to thump against his horse’s side. The animal jumped, but one of the vaqueros had the horse snubbed close. Leon looked around with a snarl.

  “No way,” he said furiously. “This is none of your business, Noel. Don’t think you can pull any tricks.”

  Don Emilio smiled. “You will exchange places with him, no? Ah, Noel, you have a clever mind.” He snapped his fingers. “Strip him.”

  The vaqueros closed in on Leon, who cursed loudly and raked his horse with his spurs. The animal bolted free of the man holding its bridle. Leon lashed it hard with his quirt and galloped away. Noel swore and started to go after him, but Don Emilio flung out his hand.

  “Wait, my friend. He won’t get far.”

  Even as Don Emilio spoke, a vaquero galloping flat out behind Leon shook out his lariat and formed a loop. With an easy flick of his wrist, the vaquero threw his rope and caught the hind feet of Leon’s horse. He yanked up, swift and hard, and his mount sat back on its hindquarters. Leon’s horse was thrown flat to the ground, and Leon went tumbling in a fall that made Noel wince in sympathy.

  The other vaqueros caught up, surrounding Leon who was dazedly trying to pick himself up. Dismounting, they shucked him out of his trousers, boots, and shirt. Leon yelled and kicked, but it did him no good. Within seconds, he stood there in his socks and long underwear, glowering.

  Noel put on Leon’s clothes, his skin crawling with repugnance. Everything fit, of course, even the big Mexican sombrero that he jammed on his head. The six-shooter that he buckled on around his hips was surprisingly heavy. When he took the reins of Leon’s buckskin, however, Leon came at him.

  “Sooner or later you’re going to kill Cody,” he said, straining against the men who held him back. “Why don’t you just draw that pistol and drill him now? Get it over with. Don’t be squeamish, Noel. You know all of this is your fault.”

  Heat flooded Noel’s face. He turned away from the furious taunts of his duplicate and mounted swiftly. Leon went on yelling.

  “Coward! Yellow-bellied, no-good skunk! Why don’t you let them know what you really are? Why don’t you tell them how this is your fault and what you’re really doing here? Tell them, Noel. You’re playing games with their lives. Don’t they have a right to understand why? Oh, sanctimonious brother, how they all look up to you. Kill him now, and get it over with. You can’t depend on El Raton or one of the others to do it for you.”

  Frowning, Don Emilio gestured. “Shut him up.”

  “Tell them the truth, Noel. Tell them—”

  A vaquero socked Leon in the jaw, and he sagged unconscious to the ground. There was silence, broken only by the cawing of a flock of ravens. The west wind sighed hot and dry through the greasewood.

  Noel closed his eyes, trying to calm the throbbing fury in his veins. He was afraid now if he looked at Cody, the boy would read the truth in his eyes. Damn Leon!

  “He is crazy, that one,” Don Emilio said flatly. “Loco in the head.”

  “He sure is,” Cody said in wonder. “Why, Noel saved my life. I reckon if anyone wanted to put a bullet in me, it would be Leon. I sure am sorry, Noel, that you’ve got to put up with a brother like that. He’s a shame to you, isn’t he?”

  Noel’s throat was too choked up for him to answer, but he forced himself to meet the boy’s trusting gaze. He nodded curtly and wheeled his horse around. “Let’s ride.”

  Don Emilio gave him a small salute. “You are a braver man than I, amigo. Bring them back safe.”

  They headed up into the low ridges, their mounts scrambling over loose shale. A small herd of perhaps a half-dozen pronghorn antelope sprang from a thicket and flashed over the crest of a ridge in a creamy blur of grace and motion. Blooming pear cactus dotted the hillsides. Lizards and pack rats scurried to cover ahead of them. A covey of fat quail waddled fussily up the trail, then burst into low flight.

  Noel glanced back only once, and saw Don Emilio dispersing his men into cover. El Raton’s bunch had to be concealed around here somewhere. If anything went wrong, there would be a hot battle of bullets soon. Noel’s mouth was dry from more than thirst. He swallowed, but he couldn’t work up any spit. There was no canteen on Leon’s saddle, and he didn’t ask Lisa-Marie to share from hers. El Raton was bound to have his spies watching. Noel reminded himself to act like Leon.

  With a wink at Lisa-Marie to warn her, he reached out and fondled her shoulder. “You sure look pretty today,” he said loudly and laughed.

  “Hey!” said Cody in startlement.

  Lisa-Marie shrugged off Noel’s hand. “He’s just acting like Leon would.”

  “Yeah?” said Cody, sending Noel a frown. “Well, don’t try too hard.”

  Noel couldn’t tell if Cody was seriously annoyed or acting. Maybe Leon’s parting words were gnawing at him. He glanced frequently at Noel, his eyes holding a frown. As for himself, Noel couldn’t shake Leon’s words either. Time was running out. He guessed he had been hoping an accident would befall the boy, but Leon was right about that being a cowardly hope. Noel was ashamed of himself for even thinking that way.

  Yet he couldn’t commit cold-blooded murder. The very thought of doing so made his head go light. He swallowed hard, sweating in the heat and glare, and knew the act was not in him. Even if history changed and time travel was never invented, even if he had to spend the rest of his life in this era, even if he ceased to exist, he could not draw his pistol and shoot that boy.

  “This way,” said Cody.

  They turned onto a narrow, twisting game trail showing Leon’s recent tracks and headed up a steep slope. At the crest, Noel saw nothing but rock and round cedar bushes—a broken, jumbled country that betrayed no secrets. Rounded boulders, some of them the size of houses, lay stacked in fantastic geological formations. Slabs formed natural lintels across narrow gaps. Immense fingers to rock jutted toward the sky. It was a rock climber’s dream. It would be a lost man’s nightmare. In the distance, a bobcat stood atop an outcropping, lapping water from a natural indentation in the rock. It snarled at them, and sprang away.

  “Go straight down the trail about twenty feet to those big rocks, then go through them,” said Cody. “Do you remember the way, Lisa-Marie?”

  She was gazing around her in a kind of exaltation, no doubt remembering other, happier times. “Yes, I’m beginning to. It’s been so long since we played here.”

  “How,” said Noel, “do I go through rocks?”

  “You’ll see,” said Cody with a grin. “Go on.”

  The boulders were taller than Noel on horseback. At first they seemed to be solidly against each other, but when he reached them he found a narrow crack separating them. The gap was choked with cedar and brush. It looked like a gloomy hole, and Noel was conscious of the bobcat and possibly it larger cousins—mountain lions—that could be lurking, ready to pounce. His horse snorted and stopped.

  “We can’t go through there,” said Noel.

  “Yes, you can. It don’t look—”

  “Doesn’t,” said Lisa-Marie. “It doesn’t.”

  Cody scowled at her. “It don’t look like there’s room, but just you start. The horse’ll fit. Watch your knees, though.”

  Doubtful, Noel urged his mount forward. After some head-slinging, the animal went willingly enough. Scraped by cedar boughs that nearly dislodged his hat, Noel had to take his feet from the stirrups and draw his knees up to protect them. The flapping stirrups knocked and scraped against rock on either side. The trail plunged down steeply, causing the horse to lurch and pick its way with slow caution. But after a few moments, the ground abruptly leveled, and they emerged from the claustrophobic pass into a deep canyon with steep sides of stone rising straight up to the sky.

  Lisa-Marie eme
rged behind him, and gave a low laugh of wonder that echoed off the cliffs. “I’d forgotten how special it is. Just look, Noel!”

  “Quiet,” said Cody, crowding her from behind. “Don’t give us away now.”

  Subdued at once, she nodded. But she was right. It was a magical place. In the distance Noel heard the sound of rushing water. A stream as clear as crystal burbled over a stony bed in the bottom of the canyon. Grass, startlingly green and soft, spread a lush carpet over the ground, and full-sized cottonwood and willow trees cast dappled shade that looked inviting. The air was cool and invigorating. Noel inhaled deeply.

  “I never dreamed a place like this could exist here in the desert,” he said. “It’s like an oasis.”

  “There’s a waterfall farther on,” said Lisa-Marie. “You can hear it.”

  Instead of water, he heard a horse nicker. Noel tensed, and drew his pistol. “We can’t enjoy nature now. Ride ahead of me.”

  Cody took the lead, his face taut and serious beneath the brim of his hat. Lisa-Marie rode next in line, and Noel brought up the rear. Their horses’ feet made little sound on the soft grass. Noel’s mount put down his head to eat, and Noel kicked him to keep him going.

  Beyond the trees, the canyon ended abruptly with a high, vertical cliff face that boxed it. A narrow waterfall cascaded perhaps forty feet to plunge into the clear pool below. The horses pulled forward eagerly to drink. Noel dismounted, and gestured for the twins to do the same. He looked around, seeking El Raton, and saw no one.

  The cliff itself had a precarious trail that wound up to a point halfway to the top. Squinting at it, Noel wondered if there was a cave or some kind of recess behind the waterfall.

  “El Raton!” he shouted loudly over the rush of water. His voice echoed back to him. “I have brought them!”

  No one appeared. No voice replied. Noel frowned in worry.

  “Where are they?” asked Lisa-Marie. Her face had grown pale, and her blue eyes shone as though she were fighting back tears.

 

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