Cowboy Justice

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Cowboy Justice Page 11

by Patricia Rosemoor


  “So what is it you need, Cash?”

  “Help me find Gray.”

  “You’re right.” A frown narrowed his uncle’s broad face. “I don’t like it.”

  “But you’ll do it? For me?”

  Nemesio busied himself laying small adobe-veneer bricks on either side of the angle irons.

  “Why can’t you leave it alone?” he muttered darkly. “Don’t involve yourself. Leave it up to fate and his own kind.”

  “I am involved because I am his kind, Uncle, as much as I’m yours. Mom was right about that.”

  His uncle looked up from his work to meet Cash’s steady gaze. “But you turned your back on him. You chose sides and never wavered.”

  “But I shouldn’t have had to choose. And it wasn’t because of anything Gray did, but because of who our father was.”

  “Your father was Zane Abreu, a good man who loved your mother and you!”

  He had no argument there. “Matlock’s being my father is a biological fact, but not one that makes me sentimental toward him, if that’s your worry. But about Gray...”

  When Nemesio abruptly quit his work and descended the ladder, Cash followed suit.

  He’d been forced to walk away from everything he’d known or cared about on the land where he’d been raised—especially Gray and Reine. The alternative—acceptance of something that would have been a daily insult to his mother—had been unthinkable.

  And Nemesio was wrong about his not wavering. He’d done so hundreds of times, especially at the beginning, when he’d been young and full of dreams.

  He’d wished he could reclaim them both—the best friend who was really his brother, and the girl he loved. But Jasper Matlock had been Gray’s father in truth and might as well have been Reine’s. Jasper had taken in his wife’s niece as his own, even though he’d so easily tossed away the product of his union with a woman who wasn’t his own kind.

  “What makes you think I can find Gray when the tracks were purposely obliterated?” Nemesio asked, the moment his feet touched solid ground.

  Cash started. He hadn’t heard anyone mention that before. The supposition had been that the kidnapper cleverly had used the river to confuse anyone who might follow them. So why did his uncle think otherwise?

  Think or know?

  Words stuck in his throat and he had to make a special effort to release them.

  “I was figuring you could ask around, spread the word through all the pueblos in this area, maybe pick up some information about anyone acting suspicious. Surely there’s been some speculation already.”

  After all, pueblos were small communities not immune to gossip.

  Nemesio didn’t respond, however, and Cash’s already troubled heart grew even heavier.

  “You don’t want Gray found, do you, Uncle?”

  “Why should I care when he will soon have everything that should be yours as the firstborn?”

  Normally endowed with a calm, even introspective nature, Nemesio was bristling with anger, his ruddy face dark. Cash could only remember seeing him so angry once before, when Cash had arrived at the pueblo bruised and bloodied after Matlock’s beating. His uncle had been ready to declare war against the man who’d done this to a member of his family. Cash had had to convince Nemesio that going after Matlock in return would only get his father fired and both parents banished from the spread, as he already had been.

  Having thought about the land a lot the night before, Cash said, “Matlock wouldn’t even own half of that spread if he hadn’t married Marlene. It’s Gray’s birthright, not mine.”

  “Then why are you so damn set on owning it?”

  “Because I can! And because I vowed I would.”

  “Because the bastard sold you and your mother off to his foreman like so much chattel when he thought you might hinder his plans?”

  “I won’t deny it.”

  Though he would deny that revenge was sweet. It always seemed to leave a bitter taste in his mouth.

  And in truth, both he and his mother had been better off with Zane Abreu than they ever would have been with Jasper Matlock, himself.

  “Hey, Nemesio!” called the owner-to-be of the new house. “We need your opinion over here.”

  Without another word, his uncle went to see what the man wanted, leaving Cash with his own thoughts.

  If he took the land from Matlock, it would be the same as stealing his brother’s birthright. While Cash didn’t care about the land itself—only about owning what it represented—he knew it meant everything to Gray; that it had been the source of his identity even when they’d been small boys.

  The thought might not have bothered Cash so much before, but suddenly everything had changed.

  He only prayed that his uncle hadn’t been the catalyst.

  THE FIRST THING REINE noticed about her aunt when she walked into the dayroom was that she appeared calm, even relaxed. Stretched out on a pale cream-and-peach-chintz-covered chaise longue that matched the love seat and the curtains at the window, Aunt Marlene was perusing a magazine as if she didn’t have a trouble in the world.

  Reine put the change in humor to a good night’s sleep and yet found no comfort in the supposition. Not after the message her aunt had left her.

  Something was wrong.

  “Aunt Marlene, I’m sorry I couldn’t get here earlier.”

  “I’m so glad you’re here now, Reine,” Marlene said, setting down her magazine and removing her reading glasses, “so I can share the good news with you. Everything is going to be all right.”

  Reine’s spirits soared. “Uncle Jasper made arrangements with the kidnapper, then? Is Gray here already?”

  Marlene’s smile tightened as she got to her feet. “Gray is not returned as of yet. And Jasper hasn’t done anything as fat as I know. I’ve taken charge of the situation myself.”

  “What do you mean...‘yourself’? You notified the authorities?”

  That was something she’d been hoping for since Gray had disappeared.

  “No. Better than that. I paid Sam Valdez a visit this morning.”

  Reine frowned. “Valdez?”

  “Don’t sound so surprised. He and I were...close friends in the past. He’s agreed to help me.”

  “How?”

  “By getting me the money to save Gray, of course,” her aunt said, as if she were dim-witted.

  Which, in a way, Reine was feeling.

  Aunt Marlene and Sam Valdez “close”? Reine wanted no further explanation, yet she had a healthy enough imagination. Close when? Surely before she’d married Uncle Jasper. That had been such a long time ago. Thirty-five years.

  “And Valdez is going to give you two million dollars? Just like that?”

  “In exchange for the land along the river, yes.”

  Gasping, Reine asked, “Uncle Jasper agreed to this?”

  “That’s the beautiful part—he doesn’t have to.”

  Marlene sounded oddly triumphant and Reine recognized an unnatural sparkle in her eyes. She listened in amazement and dismay as her aunt revealed her plan.

  The word divorce echoed in her mind as she said, “Surely it can’t be that easy.”

  “Why ever not?”

  She hated her aunt’s flippant tone.

  “Where are these papers your father had drawn up?” Reine demanded, wanting to see them for herself.

  “My lawyer has them, of course.” Marlene sounded annoyed with her. “I put in a call to him, but he hasn’t gotten back to me yet.” Pacing the length of the room, she said, “It is Saturday, but I’m certain I’ll be hearing from him soon. I must. I need that money by Monday sunset.”

  Monday.

  Sunset.

  A little more than forty-eight hours from now.

  Enough time for her and Cash to track down the kidnapper? Reine wondered. And if she convinced Aunt Marlene that they could, then didn’t come through...

  Tactfully, she said, “Aunt Marlene, surely you’re not really going to start
divorce proceedings when you’re under such stress.”

  “I’m going to be prepared. Jasper has had enough time to sober up and think about—”

  “So you’ve already told him?”

  “No, not yet. He was gone when I got back to the house a while ago.” Marlene’s arms slid around her middle and she stopped before a window. “But as soon as he walks through that door...”

  Tears stung the backs of Reine’s eyelids as her world crumbled a little more. Bit by bit, the family she’d come to think of as her own was falling apart.

  Jasper Matlock didn’t take ultimatums well. She could hardly believe Marlene was going to give him one.

  But the poor woman was desperate. At her breaking point. She simply wasn’t thinking straight or she wouldn’t have gone to a quarrelsome neighbor—albeit a formerly “close friend”—over her husband.

  “Aunt Marlene, you don’t want to do this. You don’t want to divorce Uncle Jasper.”

  “You’re right.” Her aunt faced her. “I don’t. But I will if Jasper forces me. He thinks he can control everything, just as Papa did. Well, his willing Gray safe won’t make it so. I love the land, too, but it’s nothing to me when compared to my son. But Jasper—he’ d do anything to keep from losing it, even convince himself that Gray is safe because Cash is the one who has him.”

  “That’s ridiculous! Cash is helping me try to find out who might be responsible!”

  Marlene took a deep breath and squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. “He’s coming through for Gray, after all,” she murmured. “I should have known he would.”

  “I’ll tell Uncle Jasper—”

  “What good would that do? He’d only say Cash is trying to establish his innocence or some such.”

  Undoubtedly her aunt was right.

  That made learning the truth all the more imperative. Reine needed to find Cash right away and tell him....

  What?

  That the woman who’d inadvertently stolen his farther from his mother was about to dump the man? Would Cash care? It might even give him cause to drag his heels a little.

  So she wouldn’t tell him. Not about the possible divorce. Not about Sam Valdez.

  Not now.

  If they could only foil Gray’s kidnapper, Cash would never have to know.

  A CALL TO HACIENDA Abreu put Reine in the direction of the pueblo where Nemesio Escobar still made his home. The young maid Gloria had said something about Cash’s building a house, and she’d tried to envision him doing so literally.

  How ridiculous. That would ruin his expensive manicure.

  But, indeed, upon alighting from her car at the site half a mile down the road from the plaza, she spotted him on a ladder, hard at work applying mortar to the adobe bricks. She stood and stared, somewhat amazed.

  “Is Cash expecting you?” asked a familiar woman’s voice from behind.

  Reine turned to face Cash’s mother. “Luna, hello.” Her first instinct was to envelop the older woman in a quick hug, but, not knowing how it would be received, she held herself back. “Cash is expecting to see me,” she said, “but not here. I, uh, finished what I had to do faster than I’d thought and figured I’d play catch-up, save him some time. I didn’t expect to find him hard at work.” Curious, she turned back to watch. “I’m amazed he still remembers the trade.”

  “That’s because he never gave it up completely. He not only donates the materials for these projects, but himself.”

  “What projects?”

  “Helping people who can’t otherwise afford their own homes to build one. It’s a community effort. People helping each other with whatever skills they have. And then the work is returned on the coming projects, of course.”

  “Kind of like the Habitat for Humanity program.”

  “A similar principle,” Luna agreed.

  Reine was amazed. Of all the things she’d called Cash in her mind, “benefactor” had not been among them. This was a new and unexpected side of the man. One he apparently hid from the world.

  And one that she liked. A lot.

  It was then that Cash spotted her. “Reine! Be down in a little while!” he yelled.

  She waved in response.

  Watching Cash work fascinated her. His white T-shirt was streaked with reddish-brown earth as were his powerful arms. Even from a distance, she could see the flex and play of muscle as he lifted a shovelful of mortar and dumped it on top of the adobe brick.

  “Would you like something cool to drink in the meantime?” Luna asked, catching her attention. “Iced tea?”

  “That would be lovely.”

  She followed Cash’s mother to a couple of makeshift tables shaded by some big cottonwoods that stood behind one of the older houses in the community. Luna exchanged greetings with a pair of mud-covered workers who were taking their lunch break. A couple of kids grabbed some food from a second, heavily-laden table and ran off, laughing.

  Two Pueblo women seemed to be in charge of the midday meal. The older one was making fry bread in a deep-sided, oil-filled black iron pan that sat on a single-burner hotplate. The other was using the fry bread to make Indian tacos with meat and cheese, shredded lettuce and salsa.

  Reine’s mouth began to water.

  “If you’re hungry,” the fry-bread maker said, “help yourself.”

  “Thanks.” Reine had her eye specifically on a platter heaped with homemade tamales, whose corn husks were tied in a way that she recognized. She chose one, peeled back the husk and took a bite. “Mmm, Luna, you still make the best tamales I’ve ever tasted.”

  “How do you know they’re mine?”

  “The way you tie them. And the taste. When we were kids, I always looked forward to Fridays, because I knew we’d all get some of your homemade tamales after school.”

  “That was so long ago...too long.” Luna handed her a cup of the iced tea. “I told Cash turning his back on you and Gray was a mistake that he would live to regret, but he wouldn’t listen to me.”

  Did he regret it? Reine wondered.

  After washing down the last bite with a swig of the cool tea, she said, “He didn’t have room in his heart for anything but making money so he could prove something, I guess. That he was as good as Uncle Jasper and could play on his field.”

  “There was that.”

  “What else?”

  “Me. Cash felt he had to uphold my honor.” Luna shook her head. “I told him that was ridiculous, that I had gotten over the bad feelings so many years before that I barely remembered them. But the pain was new to him, so I guess he couldn’t understand. I had been infatuated with your uncle for a short while, but for eighteen years, I knew what real love was with my husband. My son’s true father.”

  “Zane was a good man and a nice one.”

  Reine remembered how he used to tell her tall tales with such sincerity that she always at least half believed them, no matter how wild.

  One of the Pueblo women held out an Indian taco, saying, “Would you like to try?”

  Reine felt it wouldn’t be polite to refuse. She smiled and thanked the woman, then, at the first bite, made audible sounds of ecstasy.

  Both cooks smiled and laughed with her.

  Luna had heaped a plate with food and now brought it to the table that was just being vacated.

  “Come. Sit,” she said.

  Reine placed her taco on a paper plate and added two more tamales and some fresh fruit. Then she joined Cash’s mother. The women ate in companionable silence for a few moments before Luna spoke.

  “Zane Abreu was everything Jasper Matlock wasn’t,” she told Reine. “They say behavior is learned, but Zane would never have approved of some of the things our son has done. He believed in love, not in vengeance.”

  “They also say the best revenge is living well,” Reine said. “Cash certainly has mastered that art to a fault. Too bad he didn’t stop there. Too bad he felt it necessary to cut himself off from Gray and me.”

  “It wasn’t becaus
e he didn’t love you both enough. I always thought that with time, he’d change his mind.”

  “And now fate has stepped in and changed it for him. At least in Gray’s case.”

  “At least,” Luna emphasized, putting a different spin on the words.

  And giving Reine something to mull over.

  When she’d cleaned her plate, she thought about getting yet another tamale, even though she was full. Looking toward the food table, however, she hesitated. Cash’s uncle was there, and he was staring at her.

  “I don’t think your brother likes my being here,” she murmured to Luna.

  The older woman gave her brother a quick look. He glared, then took his plate and drink and walked in the other direction, deliberately snubbing them.

  Luna shook her head. “Nemesio is all worked up because he knows Cash is worried about Gray and is determined to do something.”

  “Why should he care?”

  “Again, for me.”

  “He’s had years to get over it,” Reine said, amazed. Ever since Zane Abreu had died, leaving that letter for Cash. “They both have.”

  “Once Nemesio sinks his teeth into something, he doesn’t let go until he’s chewed it up good first. He’s never found a way to make Jasper Matlock suffer.”

  “Cash has been doing a good enough job for the both of them.”

  “Unfortunately. But that’s another problem. I think Nemesio is finding it difficult that his position is reversed. Until a few years ago, he was the male head of our family, such as it was. He was my son’s mentor, taught him a trade and guided him into manhood. Then Cash’s hard work and investments started paying off and suddenly Nemesio found himself working for his own nephew. He always had his own ambitions, but he was never able to do more than earn an honest living. Now he has more, but because of Cash. It grates on him.”

  “He complains about your son’s success?”

  “No, he would never do that. But I know my brother,” Luna said, her expression as worried as her tone. “Nemesio’s frustrations have been building. I only worry about what he might do to soothe them.”

 

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