Showdown

by Deborah Chester

  “El Raton!” shouted Noel. “El Raton, I am here!”

  The echoes of his voice faded, and he heard only the cries of birds and the small thunder of the water. The horses munched grass busily.

  Noel’s sense of uneasiness increased. He didn’t like this game. He worried that El Raton had maybe given Leon specific instructions. By failing to follow them now, Noel could be betraying himself. “Where does that trail go?” he asked.

  “Up to the silver cave,” said Cody. “You reckon he’s up there, waiting for us?”

  “There’s nowhere else.”

  Cody shook his head. “We ain’t got any maneuvering room in there. He’ll have us sure.”

  Noel gestured. “Go on.”

  Looking frightened, Lisa-Marie started walking, but Cody stood his ground.

  “I said we won’t have any place to move around in.”

  “I heard you,” said Noel grimly. “Go.”

  Cody’s eyes widened. “Whose side you on, anyway?”

  “Yours.” Noel gave him a shove just in case El Raton was watching. “Don’t be a fool. We started this. We’ve got to finish it.”

  “We ought to make him come out.”

  “He’s got the trump card, in case you’ve forgotten. Cody, don’t get stubborn and stupid on me now. Go up the trail.”

  The boy shook his head, but he went. Single file on the narrow ledge that wound up the cliff, they climbed in silence. In the lead, Lisa-Marie made their progress slow because she had difficulty with her long skirts, having to hold them up with one hand and use the other hand to steady herself. She should have been in the middle, but the ledge was too narrow for one of them to pass her. Noel holstered his pistol to free both hands, and didn’t care what El Raton thought.

  Although the waterfall wasn’t more than two or three feet wide, it cast enough spray for the sunlight to create miniature rainbows. The trail leveled off and widened slightly where it went behind the falls, but the ground was wet and the footing treacherous.

  Damp with spray, they edged behind the water and ducked into the small mouth of the cave. For a moment there was only dank darkness around Noel, then he groped after the others around a bend, and found himself inside a cavern the size of a spacious room. A tin lantern provided golden illumination, and veins of silver shimmered in the rock walls. At the rear lay a mound of rocks as though left from an old cave-in.

  On the floor, wrapped in a blanket, his hat pulled low over his face, lay a man.

  “Grandpa!” cried Lisa-Marie, and ran to him. Tenderly she rolled him over. “Grandpa, we’re here to rescue you. We—”

  She froze a moment, then jerked off the hat. The lantern light fell across a thin, beard-stubbled face. Eyes angry with helplessness glared at them all over a cloth gag.

  “Why, Skeet,” said Cody in astonishment. “What are you doing here? Where’s Grandpa?”

  Chapter 15

  Noel jerked the gag off Skeet. Skeet spat and said urgently, “Trap! You shouldn’t ought to have come here. Get out now while you still can.”

  “But where’s Grandpa?” asked Lisa-Marie.

  Cody knelt to untie Skeet, but the man shook his head violently. “Never mind about me, boy! Get outta here.”

  “Not without you,” said Cody, struggling with the stubborn knots.

  Refusing to join the argument, Noel returned to the mouth of the cave. His heart had quickened with a rush of adrenaline. His senses were on sharp alert. He gripped the Colt .45 in a hand gone sweaty, and eased himself outside to the rear of the waterfall.

  The spray dampened his face and shirt, and dripped off the brim of his hat. He held his pistol behind him to protect it from the water and searched the canyon below. The quarry was in the trap, and had taken the bait. How long until El Raton sprang it shut?

  A scream from Lisa-Marie made him whirl around, heart hammering, and rush back into the cave. He came up short at the sight of a swarthy, bearded man in a vest and wide leather chaps, holding a Winchester trained on them. Skeet was still tied up on the ground. Cody and Lisa-Marie stood against the rock wall, their hands in the air, their faces tense.

  The point of the rifle never shifted from them, but El Raton’s dark eyes glanced at Noel. He spat a stream of tobacco juice out between large, yellowed teeth. “’Bout time you got here, Leon. I told you to hurry.”

  He spoke in Mexican with a rapid, slurry lisp. The wad of tobacco bulged his right cheek. He shifted the wad with his tongue and jerked his head at Noel. “Tie them up. There’s rope in the back of the cave.”

  In silence Noel obeyed. All this time he’d been expecting El Raton to be hiding in the rocks somewhere at the base of the cliff. But the bandit must have been lurking deeper in the cave. From the entrance, there seemed to be only this one room. However, as Noel reached the back, he saw a low slit in the wall concealed by the tumbled pile of rocks. It must lead to another cavern.

  “We came here to make a deal,” said Cody. His voice was cracking on him, betraying his fear, but he wasn’t backing down. Noel was proud of the boy’s courage. “’There’s no call to tie us up. All we want is our grandpa safe—”

  “Shut up, you stupid brat,” said El Raton. “I make no deals with gringos.”

  “But you said—”

  El Raton struck him in the chest with the butt of his rifle, sending the boy staggering against the wall. “Shut up, I said! You are no more important than a flea. She is the one I want.”

  “Leave me alone!” said Lisa-Marie sharply.

  El Raton laughed. “If you are my woman, and your brother and grandfather are dead, senorita, then the Double T is mine. This silver is mine. Don Emilio’s word is law in Chihuahua, but not here north of the border.”

  He put his arm around her and pulled her close against him, laughing as she struggled and cried out in disgust. “Si, I like a fighter.”

  “Let me go. Let me go!”

  Still laughing, he nuzzled her face with his beard; trying to steal a kiss. She bit him, and he jerked back with an oath.

  “Damn you! Leon! Where is that rope?”

  Noel stopped trying to peer through the slitted passageway and snatched up the coil of rope. “Here,” he said quickly.

  El Raton glared at him. “Payaso! Tie them up, pronto.”

  “I thought you were going to kill them,” said Noel.

  El Raton’s gaze narrowed. He spat, and the tobacco juice narrowly missed Noel’s boot toe. “Always you are like a fly in my ear, buzzing and buzzing with suggestions. Do I ask you to tell me what I should do, eh?”

  “You won’t get away with killin’ Tom Trask,” said Skeet. “Half the territory’ll come after you.”

  With the rifle still at his hip, El Raton fired point-blank. The report crashed through the cave, deafening everyone and causing rubble to fall from the ceiling. Skeet jerked violently and sprawled back on the ground, his eyes wide open and sightless.

  “No!” said Cody in horror. He threw himself at El Raton, who whirled and cocked his rifle.

  Lisa-Marie stepped between him and Cody just as he took aim. Frantically, Noel threw himself at El Raton’s back, tackling him awkwardly.

  The shot crashed out, and the bullet missed both Lisa-­Marie and Cody. But when it hit the wall behind them, it ricocheted off the rock with a dangerous ping and nicked Noel in the arm just above his left elbow.

  Pain seared him, and El Raton seized on his momentary distraction to twist away. They grappled fiercely, rolling over and over in the dust, and someone’s flailing foot knocked over the lantern. Lisa-Marie rescued the light, and Cody hovered over the two fighting men for a chance to help.

  El Raton still clung to his rifle with one hand. The other gripped Noel around the throat and squeezed until black dots danced in front of Noel’s eyes. He tore at El Raton’s face and seized his wrist with both hands, trying to pull that relentless grip away, but El Raton squeezed harder and harder. Noel’s lungs burned. He could feel his consciousness slipping, his
strength going. His heartbeat was like thunder in his ears. Reaching down, he pulled his pistol from its holster and jammed the muzzle in El Raton’s belly. The bandit’s dark eyes widened, and his stranglehold eased off.

  Cody loomed over El Raton and struck the back of his head with a chunk of rock. El Raton’s eyes rolled up. He slumped over Noel. It took Noel a moment to drag in some desperately needed breaths and squirm his way out from beneath the man. Cody dropped the rock and leaned down to give Noel a helping hand.

  “Thanks,” wheezed Noel hoarsely. He coughed and massaged his aching throat gingerly. A couple more seconds’ pressure, and his windpipe would have been crushed.

  “You think he’s got Grandpa stashed back here somewhere?” said Cody, heading for the rear of the cave.

  Noel gestured vaguely. “Passageway.”

  It hurt to talk. He coughed again and sat down, feeling old.

  Lisa-Marie picked up the Winchester and held it trained on El Raton. “We ought to put a bullet in him. Killing Skeet in cold blood like that makes him nothing but a murderer. He’s lower than a—”

  “Better let the courts string him up,” said Noel.

  He picked up a piece of the rope he’d dropped and used it to tie El Raton’s hands behind his back. The bandit was stirring, snorting and making grunts.

  Noel looked at him with disgust. “He must have a skull of solid bone.”

  “If he’s hurt my grandpa in any way,” said Lisa-Marie in an angry voice, “I’m putting a bullet in him here and now.”

  “Don Emilio will take care of him for you,” said Noel.

  She glared at him, and for that instant the young, appealing girl vanished, and a hard-eyed woman of the frontier stood in her place. “It’s my right,” she said, “to take justice out of his hide myself.”

  El Raton was conscious now, and listening. His dark eyes darted rapidly, but he said nothing.

  Cody’s muffled whoop from the next cavern startled them. More dust trickled down from the ceiling. Noel eyed it warily.

  “We’d better make less noise in here,” he said.

  But Cody was emerging, dust-streaked and triumphant, from the passageway. Tom Trask came in his wake. The old man straightened with difficulty, flexing his reddened, rope-burned hands and blinking painfully in the lantern light. Lisa-Marie hurtled into his arms.

  “Grandpa!” she cried, her voice choked against his chest. “Oh, Grandpa!”

  He hugged her tight. “There now, Lissy. There now. You’re all right. There’s nothing to cry about.”

  “I’m not crying,” she said with a sniff. “I’ve been so worried about you.”

  “Me!” said the old man in astonishment. Slinging an arm around her shoulders, he limped forward. “Why, gal, it’s you who got carried off.”

  Noel took the rifle from her careless hand and gave it to Cody. The boy grinned broadly at him, and Noel smiled back.

  Cody held out his hand. “We owe you a lot, Noel Kedran. For a stranger, you’ve sure been mighty handy.”

  They shook hard, and Noel couldn’t help but think that now history was definitely changed. He touched his LOC briefly, knowing it would no longer operate. Time travel had ceased to exist. He had better start thinking about adapting permanently to this century.

  “Poor Skeet,” whispered Cody. “He was mighty good to me, and I—”

  “Let’s get your grandfather and sister down the trail first,” said Noel, pulling off his bandanna to tie around his bleeding arm. “Then we’ll bury Skeet.”

  By the time they finished filling in the shallow grave in the soft ground beside the stream, it was well past midday. Dappled sunlight danced over the emerald grass through the leaves of the swaying trees.

  Cody straightened up and dusted off his hands. “This is a good place, a place no man should know about or visit. Skeet can rest here. We’ll never disturb it.”

  Trask levered himself to his feet and hobbled over to join them. “I agree, Cody. We should leave the land alone. We take only what we and our livestock need to live. The land can replenish that.”

  “And the silver?” Noel asked. In his mind, he was thinking, And the uranium? “Men have to make progress. Your way of life, sir, won’t last forever.”

  Trask’s leathery face did not alter expression. “I know that,” he said gruffly. “I’ve seen white folks come in and settle. I’ve seen the Apaches driven back time and time again. Geronimo surrendered last fall. There’ll never be his like again. I’ve seen the Mexicans fought back as well. We’ve taken the whole territory from them. In a few years, New Mexico will join the Union as a state. But while I live, nothing on the Double T will change.” He cleared his throat. “Hell, though, I’m getting old. I won’t be around much longer.”

  “Sure you will, Grandpa,” said Cody.

  Noel turned away sharply, unable to listen to more. He walked past the fallen log where El Raton sat with his hands bound behind his back. Lisa-Marie had climbed partway up the short, rock-strewn slope connecting the bottom of the canyon to the steep cliffs. She stood in the sun, heedless of the heat beating down upon her pale skin and reddish-gold hair, and balanced precariously on top of a small boulder.

  “Are you going to stay on at the Double T, Noel?” she asked, without glancing at him.

  He paused a few feet away from her. “No.”

  She faced him. “Why not? You’re welcome, always.”

  “Thanks. But I don’t belong here. I have to leave.”

  Her blue eyes were the color of the sky. “Where do you belong then?” she asked. “Are you going back to Chicago?”

  He’d thought about it, but her question seemed to clarify something inside him. He shook his head. “No. I can’t. It wouldn’t be the same as when I left.”

  “I understand. This canyon’s not the same as the last time I came here. The Double T’s not the same. Cody’s not the same. No one is. Grandpa looks so old to me. He’s getting frail, and I used to think he was the strongest man in the world. Cody and I don’t think the same way anymore. He wants to live in the past. I’ve seen Santa Fe and Albuquerque. Some of my friends have been to Europe. They’ve shown me their sketches and photographs. They talk about things Cody’s never heard of. I don’t mind that so much, except that he doesn’t want to hear about them.” She grimaced and shook her head. “I sound stuck-up, don’t I?”

  “No, you sound grown-up,” he said gently. “You’re an intelligent woman, Lisa-Marie. Trust yourself, and don’t let the men in your family ever stop you from being all you can.”

  She stared at him in wonder, until Trask called to her. Then she jumped off the rock and ran past Noel, leaping lightly from stone to stone until she reached the bottom.

  “Noel!” called Cody. “Time to go!”

  Noel picked his way down the slope. A rattlesnake buzzed a warning from a pile of rocks, and Noel jumped sideways, giving the snake a wide berth. When he rejoined the others, the rattlesnake could still be heard.

  “Why didn’t you shoot that gentleman?” asked Trask, handing a set of bridle reins to Noel. “This country is crawling with rattlers. I kill every one I come across.”

  Noel wanted to say there’d been enough killing for one day, but he mounted his horse in silence. El Raton protested that he couldn’t get on a horse with his hands tied behind him, but Trask trained the Winchester on him and Cody gave him a boost into the saddle. They had Skeet’s horse as an extra mount. Noel led it, and Cody led El Raton’s horse.

  In single file they rode out of the canyon. They were still picking their way through the gigantic boulders and odd formations when the sound of pitched gunfire opened up in the distance. In the lead, Trask threw up his hand, and they all halted.

  “It’s got to be Don Emilio fighting El Raton’s bunch,” said Cody.

  “Si,” said El Raton arrogantly. “I told them to wait two hours, then attack. It will not take long to defeat those fancy vaqueros of his.”

  “What can we do?” asked Noel.r />
  Trask gestured at Cody. “Get up on that ridge yonder and take a look.”

  Cody went off at a gallop. When he was still below the skyline, he dismounted and threw his reins down to ground tie his mount. Crouching low, he scrambled up the rest of the way, then threw himself belly flat and peered over the crest of the ridge.

  “My Commancheros fight like tigers,” said El Raton to Noel. “They will send Don Emilio fleeing back to his fancy hacienda with his tail between his legs. Then, before they cut out your miserable tongue, you will explain to them why you dared put ropes upon me.”

  “Shut up,” Noel said tensely.

  They waited a few more minutes, listening to the gunfire, then all was silent. Cody sat up and waved his hat wildly before scrambling down the slope to his horse. He came galloping back with a whoop and reined up in a cloud of dust.

  “They’ve got those bandits rounded up and begging for mercy. I saw ’em creeping out from cover with their hands up.”

  Everyone smiled, except El Raton, who turned pale and silent. They rode down the ridges to the flat, where Don Emilio and his men waited impatiently in the scorching sunshine. The Comancheros who had survived the battle now sat on the ground in a dejected little group, guarded by rifles. Three bodies had been strapped across saddles. A few of the vaqueros were binding up minor wounds.

  Don Emilio rose from the slim shade cast by a yucca plant and came forward to greet them with a broad smile. “Senor Trask, I am delighted to see you well.”

  Trask grunted. “Can’t say I feel the same. What are you doing on Double T land?”

  “Grandpa!” said Lisa-Marie in rebuke, but her grandfather ignored her.

  “That’s a straight enough question, isn’t it?” Trask said. “I’ve made it clear before that you’re not welcome here.”

  “Grandpa, stop it,” said Lisa-Marie. “Don Emilio and his men helped search for me when the Apaches took me prisoner. He gave Cody, Noel, and me shelter and care. He rode here today to help us rescue you. And now he’s put an end to El Raton’s bunch once and for all. Don’t be rude.”