I could hardly believe how lucky I was to have you courting me. I was a nobody on an isolated ranch. But you were somebody, and you rode all the way from Amarillo to see me.
But after we married, something changed. You changed.
And all because I wouldn’t put your name on the deed to this ranch. It shouldn’t make that much difference. But it does.
Now, I never see that smile anymore. All I hear is disappointment in your voice. I don’t hear love anymore.
Once more, she swiped at a tear.
This motion pulled her out from under the load of memories and back to the present. She glanced down at the congealed egg and cold bacon on her plate. With a huff of disgust, she pushed the chair away from the table, grabbed the plate, and scraped the food into the bucket she kept for scraps.
Tess glanced out the window one more time, saw Edward striding toward the house. She turned from the window, couldn’t turn from her feelings.
Her husband stomped his feet on the porch to knock off anything he might have stepped in. At least he still cares about me working to keep the house clean , she thought.
On his way through the door, Edward propped a shotgun against the door jamb. He walked further into the kitchen, glanced at her, then darted his eyes from spot to spot around the room, never settling on her again.
“The boys an’ me are goin’ over toward the hills to the east. We’ll be gone a couple of days. I’ll leave Buck an’ Slim here with you.” He stepped closer to her, gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. Then, he left.
Tess turned to the tub she used to wash dishes in and began filling it up. So many feeling coursed through her mind, she couldn’t sort them out.
In a few moments, she heard the sounds of several horses leaving the ranch yard. She turned to glance out the door, noticed the shotgun leaning against the jamb.
Edward might need that , she realized. Quickly drying her hands, she hurried over to the door, saw the last of the men riding away. With a sigh, she glanced again at the shotgun, then went back to her dishes.
She knew she wasn’t a beautiful woman. Others had called her ‘handsome’ in a way, but she didn’t know what that meant. Always, she’d taken care of herself physically, as much as a woman could as isolated as she was. She kept herself clean, especially her hair, and made sure to wear good clothes, even when working on the ranch.
She never thought any man, much less one as good-looking as Edward McCaslin, would pay her any mind. Now, she often wished he hadn’t.
Chapter Three
His thrashing shook the entire bed. Marlon “Snake Eyes” Roberts reacted to the dream images that plagued him. Or, rather, the nightmare images.
“You are such a terrible boy!” The buggy whip lashed against his bare back again.
Marlon didn’t know what he’d done to cause the young woman to beat him like this. His nine-year-old mind didn’t understand how someone could be cruel just to make others suffer. Struggle as he might, he couldn’t avoid the whip. Each time it hit, he jerked in pain.
“Stop!” he tried to scream. Nothing came out His hands seemed tied to something; he couldn’t move them to shield himself.
When he saw the face of the young woman again, it had changed into that of his mother. “Do you know how disappointed I am with you?” she screamed at him.
Marlon knew then it wasn’t his mother he saw. She never screamed at him or said much to him at all.
Once more he looked at the face of his attacker. Now, his father stood there. “You will never amount to anything!” the man said as the whip rose and fell, rose and fell. “I have to bail you out of everything you get into!”
Once more the face changed. This time the whore he sold to the Comanches in Texas stood over him. But she didn’t hold a whip; she held a butcher knife. With a grin, she lowered the knife to his groin. “I’ll teach you to sell me to savages!”
With that, Snake Eyes jerked himself awake. The first light of dawn turned the air gray
around him. For seconds, he had no idea where he was. He twisted his torso back and forth, searching for anyone who might be trying to hurt him.
Gradually, he understood where he was. In the early morning dusk, he recognized the dresser across the room from where he lay. Then the hat stand by the door. Finally, he felt the naked whore lying beside him as she stirred, awakened by his thrashing.
“What’s wrong, Honey?” The whore rolled over toward him, her breasts uncovered by the sheet. One hand went to his sweaty chest.
“Nothing. Just a dream, that’s all.” Snake Eyes rested his arm across his eyes, trying to shut out the vestiges of the nightmare.
“Want me to help you wake up?” The whore’s hand slid down to his waist.
“No,” he replied, not removing his arm from his eyes. “Leave me alone.”
“C’mon, Honey, I can make you feel all better.” The whore’s hand slipped down below his waist.
Snake Eyes sat up violently, throwing the sheet off both of them. “I told you to leave me alone!” he yelled.
“I’m just trying to help you, that’s all.” The woman’s eyes held the promise of something he’d enjoy. And fear, also.
“Get out!”
“What? I’m naked!” She struggled to pull the sheet over herself.
Snake Eyes lunged to his feet, started getting dressed. “I don’t care! I said to get out!”
“You’re a mean one, Snake Eyes!” The whore grabbed her clothes and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her.
He cast a critical eye on the small room. It contained the double bed with a sagging mattress, a wash stand holding a blue ceramic pitcher and basin, the wooden dresser, and the hat rack by the door. One window opened out on the plaza below.
Is this all I’m destined to ever have? he asked himself. No – someday I’ll have a great house, better than my father’s, and a bedroom as big as this entire building. I just have to make one, or at the most two, more raids.
Snake Eyes finished dressing, went downstairs to the lobby, told the clerk there he was checking out. After paying what he owed, he sauntered across the street to the café. At least this little town just over the border in Texas had a good café.
Snake Eyes was a man of many appetites. Some larger than others. He indulged one of those appetites at breakfast. Four eggs over easy, two large pieces of ham, four biscuits and gravy, two pancakes, and about a gallon of coffee.
When he finished, he sat a few more minutes to let the meal settle. While he sat there, a minor confrontation across the room caught his eye and ear.
An older man wearing clothes that looked to be as old as him stood facing the manager of the café. This latter man wore an exasperated expression above the large white apron he also wore. He shook his head continually.
“No, Amos. Just like I told you last week, I can’t let you eat on credit, hoping you’ll pay up when you strike it rich. Now, this is the last time, y’hear? You come around again for the same thing, I’ll call the Sheriff.”
Snake Eyes waved the waitress over. “What’s that all about?”
“That’s Old Amos. He’s always trying to get a meal on credit. Says he’s real close to a
strike. He’s a prospector.”
Snake Eyes stood, took out enough money to pay his bill, gave the waitress a good tip, and dropped an extra five dollars on the table. “Give Old Amos a good breakfast.”
With that, he walked out.
He strolled down to the livery stable where he’d left instructions to have his horse saddled and ready to ride this morning. Inside the dusky, cool building, the hostler limped out
of the small office in the front.
“Howdy. Yore horse is ready.” He motioned to one of the stalls as he turned and walked that way. “Fed ‘im a bit of grain last night and again this mornin’ early. Should be ready to go a distance.”
“Hope so. Got a long ride ahead.” Snake Eyes mounted and rode out of town. He rode slowly until wel
l away from the town, then heeled the horse up to a ground-eating lope. He and the horse could hold this pace for hours.
Past the middle of the afternoon, he approached the area of the box canyon where his gang waited. He slowed, then stopped the horse. For several long minutes he sat still, knowing others were watching him and the country behind him. Snake Eyes insisted on this for everyone approaching the camp, any camp they made, for security. He said to make certain the person approaching was genuine and that no one followed him. Even if the one approaching was Snake Eyes himself.
So, he waited.
Several minutes later, a whistle from above him and an answering one from behind. This was the signal that all was clear.
Snake Eyes rode slowly into the canyon.
They had a nearly perfect site. Hard to find, hard to get into. Full of his men. And girls.
He pulled his horse to a stop in front of a small tent. His second-in-command, Rodriquez, emerged from the tent, a great grin on his face. “Jefe! Welcome back.”
“Hello, Rodriquez. You’ve take care of things while I’ve been gone.” He glanced around the canyon. “How many girls do you have?”
“Five. Two sisters, three not related to any of the others. Want something to eat?”
“Just a little. I want to get some of the girls and get back on down to Mexico.” He grinned at Rodriquez. “Guess I’m just anxious to get ‘em sold, get the money, and get it into the bank.”
“You really getting out of the business, Jefe?” His second-in-command stood ready to take over the business as soon as Snake Eyes “retired”.
“Yeah. I’m ready to stop hiding out in places like this. Ready to settle down on a nice little, no, nice big ranch somewhere.”
“I am jealous. That sounds wonderful.” A wide smile came with this.
“No need to be jealous. Once I’m gone, the business is yours. Just like we agreed.”
They were quiet for several seconds. Then, Snake Eyes said, “Pick out the three unrelated ones, tie ‘em to horses, and put enough supplies together for three days. I’ll see you when I get back.”
He and girls left before dusk.
This last batch of brats brought me more than the others . Three days later, Snake Eyes pondered this as he rode north out of Mexico, fatigue clinging to him like the dust churned up under his horse’s hooves and the sweat drawn out of him by the sun. Those last two Rodriquez is holding for me should bring top dollar, too. Then this last job and I’ll be on the way to California or maybe Oregon.
He stopped the horse in the shade of an overhang among the tan-colored rocks and green cacti of the desert country he rode through. A tiny swig from his canteen and a brush of his sleeve across his forehead and eyes, then he started off again.
Gradually, the land began changing around him as he rode further north. From the sand, low-growing bushes, and cactus of Mexico to more places where streams flowed and larger trees grew. At last he began seeing larger up-thrusts of the Earth’s crust that folded into canyons and bigger hills.
At mid-day, he stopped in a grove of cottonwood trees growing along a fair-size stream. He let the horse cool down, then allowed him to drink a bit. The next hour passed with Snake Eyes dozing under the cottonwoods and the horse grazing along the stream.
Back in the saddle, he covered ground at a slow trot, watching the ground ahead for any holes that might break his horse’s leg. An hour before sunset, he pulled to a stop in the clear before that same box canyon. This allowed the guards to look him over as well as the area behind him to see if anyone followed. Once the all clear was given, he walked the horse on into the canyon.
By the time he reached the clear area where the horses were picketed and the fires were going, he wondered at the quiet. The few men around the fires didn’t meet his eye. Something was wrong.
He pulled up in front of the tent where Rodriquez slept. No one emerged to greet him. He knew the guards had passed the word that he was on his way in, so he hadn’t caught his second-in-command unaware.
Snake Eyes sat on his horse and let his gaze travel around the camp. He couldn’t figure out what was different in the camp. The guards were still on the canyon rim, although there seemed to be more of them. Men still squatted or lay on the ground around the fires. Horses still switched their tails and stamped their feet at the flies.
But the whole atmosphere felt different somehow.
Had someone discovered their hiding place? Was Rodriquez dealing with that? What was going on?
One of his more trusted men, Frank Whitehorse, a half-breed, sauntered over to him from a nearby fire over to the right of Snake Eyes. “Howdy, Snake Eyes. Good to see you again. How was the trip down to Mexico?”
Snake Eyes stared at him a few seconds. One of the things he liked about the breed was the fact that he wasn’t easily intimidated. Even now, under the stare that left most men shaking, Whitehorse just stood there, grinning at him.
“Profitable, Frank. Very profitable. What’s going on here?”
When he saw the breed swallow before answering, Snake Eyes knew he wouldn’t like whatever it was he would be told. And he was right.
“You’ll have to ask Rodriquez that. He was the one in charge, so he needs to be the one to tell you.” The breed swallowed hard again. His grin faltered.
“Where is Rodriquez?” Snake Eyes shifted in the saddle, moved his right hand down to rest on his thigh, closer to his Colt.
“He’s on his way,” the breed answered, his eyes darting to that right hand, then back to Snake Eyes’ face.
“All right.” Snake Eyes dismounted, keeping his horse between himself and the breed. He trusted Whitehorse. To a point. With whatever happened there, he didn’t know if Rodriquez and maybe some of the others decided to take over. That’s the trouble working with outlaws , he mused. You don’t know if you can trust any of them .
Whitehorse started to walk back to his fire.
“We’ll wait here for him – together,” Snake Eyes said mildly. The mildness didn’t reach his eyes, though.
The breed carefully folded his arms across his chest, nodded. “Sure, Boss. Whatever you say.”
Rodriquez rode up ten minutes later, his horse lathered and breathing hard. For a moment, he just sat on the horse, his gaze on Snake Eyes. Then he dismounted.
“Didn’t expect you back this soon,” he said, standing beside the horse. “Things go all right down in Mexico?”
“Yeah.” Snake Eyes paused long enough to take a steadying breath. Without moving his gaze from Rodriquez, he said to Whitehorse, “Take his horse, Breed. See that it’s tended to.”
Without a word, Whitehorse reached out to Rodriquez, took the reins from his hand, and walked the horse away. He didn’t look back.
“What’s going on here?” Snake Eyes asked.
Rodriquez took his time answering. He looked like he wanted to be anywhere but standing directly in front of Snake Eyes. His eyes darted all around the area, always coming back to Snake Eyes’ right hand as it hovered around his Colt.
Finally, with nothing else he could do, Rodriquez said, “The two girls are gone.”
“Gone.” The word came out softly from Snake Eyes’ lips. “How did they get gone?”
“Somebody came in and took ‘em.” Rodriquez could hardly get the words out.
“Just like that?” That soft, high voice that fooled so many people into underestimating Snake Eyes.
Rodriquez nodded.
“And you let that happen?”
Another nod.
“You look for them?”
“Yeah. We’ve been lookin’ for two days.” He gestured with his right hand toward the rim of the canyon. Realized that was a mistake.
Snake Eyes drew his pistol, fired twice. The twin reports sounded like one, echoed down the canyon.
Both bullets struck Rodriquez in the belly just over his belt buckle. His hands flew to the holes in his belly as he fell back to the floor of the canyon.
Ot
hers of the men jumped up from where they lay or squatted, staring at Snake Eyes where he stood. The staring didn’t last long. Quickly, they went back to whatever they were doing.
Snake Eyes stood over him. “I don’t tolerate my property being stolen.”
He stood over Rodriquez, looking down on him and holding his pistol ready just in case. The outlaw moaned with his eyes clenched shut and his hands kneading his shirt. At least one of the bullets must have hit his spinal cord because his shoulders and the upper part of his body writhed with the pain while his legs remained still. In a few minutes, long for him, he gradually stilled until he stopped moving completely and his eyes stared at the sun.
Snake Eyes holstered his pistol and made the sign of the cross over Rodriquez. “Good-bye my friend.” Then he raised his head and called out, “Whitehorse! Where are you?”
“Here, Boss!” The half-breed hurried up to stand across the body from Snake Eyes.
“You just got promoted. Two things: One, get this out of here.” He gestured at Rodriquez’ body. “Two, we go and find more girls. At least two. More if we can.” He lowered his voice. “Just a few more girls, and I can retire. Then you’ll have the business. Just like Rodriquez would’ve had if he’d been more diligent.”
Whitehorse didn’t know what ‘diligent’ meant, but he knew he wouldn’t screw up like Rodriquez did. The business was more valuable than that. Hell, his life was more valuable than that. If Snake Eyes would shoot his friend who had been his second-in-command for all those years, what would he do to a half-breed who made such a mistake as to let property get stolen?
He walked away from Snake Eyes, who was entering the tent for the night, and started planning what to do to find two more girls for the boss. He didn’t know Snake Eyes had his own plan working.
Snake Eyes pondered what he’d done for a couple of minutes. Killing Rodriquez
bothered him more that he thought it would. After all, the man had been with him for ten years. During that time, they’d grown as close as Snake Eyes let anyone get to him. So, the man was a friend, as well – sort of. But he had to be killed. Discipline, discipline and fear, that’s what the kind of men with me understand. So, I had to kill him. They would’ve never followed me again if I hadn’t. Now the breed won’t fail me. He knows I’ll kill him, too.
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