Long Time Gone

by Mary Connealy

  “I need to talk to Maria. She’s back at the orphanage. I’ve got some questions I want to ask her.”

  Heath looked down the trail toward home, and Justin knew he was thinking about Sadie being vulnerable. He almost told him to go. Justin would talk to Maria and come along in a few minutes. Then again, it wasn’t wise for anyone from the CR to ride alone, not right now.

  Maria had stopped herself from talking when Justin questioned Ramone. Now she was away from her family, and Justin hoped she’d tell him what was going on.

  “Let’s go, then.” Heath reined his horse toward Safe Haven Orphanage.

  Just moments later, they dismounted, hitched their horses, and went inside. The school was unusually quiet, but in the distance they heard a low murmur of voices.

  Justin figured it out when he smelled something delicious. “It’s high noon—mealtime. I hope it doesn’t take all three women to feed the children. With Angie helping the doctor at our place, Mel out there for a visit, and Sister Margaret with a sprained ankle, they’ll be shorthanded.”

  “I’ll wait by the horses. No sense disrupting things more than necessary.”

  Justin walked toward the back of the building while the front door opened and closed with Heath going back outside. Justin peeked into the small dining area to see twenty or so children eating with enthusiasm. He swept his eyes around the room and saw Sister Margaret smile and begin to rise.

  “I was hoping to have a word with Maria.” Each of the three ladies sat at a different table with the younger children. Each table sat six. There were four tables, and the fourth one had older children sitting together without an adult. All the children looked clean and well-fed, and their table manners were probably better than Justin’s.

  “Miss Maria, would you be able to talk with me for a few minutes?” He could see she was very busy.

  One of the older girls stood. “I’ll sit at your table, Miss Maria.”

  “Thank you, Stephanie.” Maria gave Justin a worried look.

  Considering all that had been going on with her brother, this was a worrisome business.

  Justin wondered if there was more. Someone had definitely been informing Dantalion about the goings-on at the CR. If it was Alonzo, who better than his aunt—a relationship neither Alonzo nor Maria had admitted to publicly—to pass on messages?

  Miss Maria came quickly. She was wearing a plain brown dress. She wasn’t in a nun’s habit as were Sister Margaret and Sister Louisa. Though she’d devoted her life to the orphanage, Justin knew Maria had never become a nun. Considering she lived like one and dressed nearly like one, he wondered why she hadn’t taken the veil.

  Her hair was the deep black of her Spanish and Pueblo heritage, though now it was shot through with gray. She wore it pulled back in a tidy bun at the base of her skull. Maria came close before she lifted her eyes to Justin’s. They were black as coal, intelligent eyes, dour eyes. Justin knew Maria had always carried the weight of depressed spirits, but being a solemn woman was far from being a conspirator with murderous intentions. Even so, she might know things Justin didn’t.

  This woman had talked with Sadie often back when she’d worked here. Maybe Sadie had said things in passing that Maria had told her partners in crime.

  With regret, Justin decided he wasn’t leaving here without answers. He didn’t like upsetting Miss Maria, but until this thing was settled, Justin was going to upset a lot of people. And that wouldn’t stop him from asking his questions.

  He stepped out of the dining room and gestured toward the front of the building.

  Maria led the way down the short hall. Justin knew there were private rooms where Angie had been when he’d brought her home.

  His first meeting with Angie was when she’d stepped off a train and collapsed in his arms. She’d been barely able to speak the words “Aunt Margaret.” Justin had only known one Margaret in Skull Gulch, so he carried her to the orphanage and left that skinny little handful of fragile woman behind. It seemed as if he’d been worrying about her overly ever since, but most likely that was because he’d had a hand in saving her. That was the kind of thing that created a bond between folks.

  “My main reason for coming here is . . .” The dining room door opened then and several children came out, walking toward Justin and Maria. They had to pass them to get upstairs to their rooms. The door opened again.

  There was to be no more chance for a quiet talk, not here. And Justin didn’t want the children to overhear. With Maria still clutching his arm, he tugged her toward the front door. They stepped outside. The Safe Haven Orphanage was set away from the town’s main businesses. Heath adjusted the leather on his saddle, standing between their horses at the hitching post.

  Justin felt Maria withdraw. Her hand, still holding his arm, slipped away. Justin knew the ladies from the orphanage very well and he had all his life. But apparently Heath was too much of a newcomer to trust. Or maybe Maria saw the people moving around town and didn’t want to be seen talking to him.

  Justin wouldn’t get any answers here.

  “Let us talk alone for a few minutes, Heath. We’re going to walk around the back of the building.”

  Heath’s eyes were sharp, and he no doubt saw Maria’s tension. “Go on. Take all the time you need.” He turned back to his saddle as if adjusting the saddle correctly was a matter of life and death and could not be delayed.

  Walking around the building, Justin took Maria’s hand and slipped it through his crooked elbow as it had been before.

  “I need to know how often you saw Ramone before we found him. What did you say to him?”

  Maria didn’t react to that—not strongly, not like she was being accused of betrayal and conspiracy to commit murder.

  They finally reached the back of the building. There was a large yard with a seesaw and a swing. The children played outside most days, but the wind was sharp today. Justin was used to the harsh conditions, and Maria had lived here all her life, yet she hadn’t bothered to grab a shawl when they came out. They wouldn’t be able to talk long in the wind.

  “I could tell that you had things to say but weren’t willing to speak in front of your brother. I’m hoping that without him here, you’ll be willing to help me.”

  Maria stopped in her tracks and folded her arms across her chest. She stared at her feet awhile, then glanced up, her expression heavy with fear. “Ask your questions. If you don’t like the answers, you can just throw me in jail.”

  So maybe he did upset her with his first question. Her unfair accusations were frustrating, and Justin’s temper snapped. “I am not throwing you in jail.”

  “Why wouldn’t you if you think I conspired to harm your father and shoot your brother?”

  Justin had to admit that was a fair question. “I would if I thought you did that, but I don’t. I just need to find out if maybe you trusted someone and your trust was misplaced.”

  Miss Maria, sixty years old if she was a day, raised her head and faced him bravely, as if she expected a beating. Her chin trembled, and her eyes glittered with unshed tears. “So I am either a criminal or a fool, is that it?”

  “Please, stop. You’re overreacting.” She really was, and Justin had to ask himself why. He suspected it was because she knew something and her loyalty was badly split.

  She said something in Mexican that Justin didn’t understand, but her tone rang with hopelessness. “I love Sadie and have always respected your family. Now I do something that may cost me my life.”

  “No, Maria, please. We can protect you.” He bent lower to meet her eyes. “I promise—”

  A rifle shot rang out, the bullet exploding the wood right beside Justin’s head a second after he bent low.

  “No, alto!” she screamed. “No mas! No muerte.” She hurled herself in front of Justin just as he tried to grab her and shove her behind him. He had to get her inside. The impact of a second bullet sent Maria staggering against him so hard he slammed into the orphanage wall. The gun fir
ed again and again. Maria’s body jerked each time; the bullets were hitting her. They fell sideways to the ground, as if she were tackling him to save his life. Justin rolled to put his body between her and the barrage of bullets.

  As Justin dragged out his six-gun and braced to take the next bullet, gunshots came from another direction. He saw Heath run out from behind the building, gun drawn, shooting at their assailant. The hidden gunman broke off the attack.

  Justin had his pistol in hand and leapt to his feet. Hoofbeats thundered away.

  “I’ll get the horses!” Heath dashed out of sight. Justin took one step to follow and fell flat on his face. He looked back to see Maria had a tight grip on his pant leg. He reached down to tear loose the grip, then stopped as he realized what it was.

  A death grip.

  He got free, then crawled toward Maria just as Heath went galloping past the orphanage. Justin could imagine him rushing after that gunman alone. Dying alone.

  “Heath!” Justin roared. “Come back!”

  Heath pulled up hard on his buckskin and wheeled the horse around. He looked at Justin’s shirt, then at Maria.

  Justin noticed for the first time that inside his open coat, his shirt was soaked in blood. “I’m not hit. That back-shooting coyote got Maria. This is her blood.”

  Justin turned to Maria. A pool of blood was growing under her. She’d been shot in the back. He knew those bullets had been meant for him. Heath didn’t dare go charging off alone.

  Justin swore an oath to God that he’d find whoever did this and see him hanged.

  He’d heard the shooter ride off, yet Justin felt exposed. How could he know if the man might come back? How could he know if there was only one coward out there in the trees?

  Justin swept Maria up into his arms and rushed through the back door of the orphanage. The kitchen and dining room were in this part of the building, and to his relief the room was empty. He hated exposing the orphans to such a horrible sight as their teacher dying in a hail of bullets. Add in Justin’s fury and the chance he might say something ugly that these children would remember all their lives and he was grateful they were gone.

  When Heath charged in through the back door, he nearly tripped over them. Doc Garner was out at the CR. He wasn’t staying there all the time anymore, but he rode out often. Justin had passed him on the trail to town. Waiting for Heath to come back, Justin rolled Maria over to see that three bullets had hit her. The back of her brown dress was drenched with blood. They made up a tidy cluster of shots in the middle of her back. Whoever was behind this filthy crime had a fine aim.

  He recalled the first shot that had barely missed his head. After that one, the man aimed at a bigger target, his chest. And Maria had given her life to save him.

  Sister Margaret came hobbling into the back room, leaning hard on a cane. “I heard gunshots.” She stumbled to a stop, and her eyes went wide with horror. Then she moved again and dropped to her knees beside her old friend. “No, Maria, no. Please, God, no . . .”

  Justin, seeing where the bullets had struck Maria, didn’t bother sending Heath for the doctor. The wounds were the kind that no amount of doctoring could heal.

  “Let me see to her.” Heath came up beside Justin and urged him aside, rolling up his sleeves. Justin remembered that Heath had treated Pa until Doc Garner could get there.

  As Justin moved aside he heard a whisper. Maria lay facedown on the floor. Heath cut the back of her dress open with one slash of his razor-sharp knife.

  Leaning close, Justin said, “Hang on, Maria. We’re doing all we can.”

  She breathed painfully in and out. “Meh . . . hee ko.”

  Justin put his ear to Maria’s lips. “What did you say?”

  “Viva Meh-hee-ko,” she said faintly.

  Justin wasn’t sure he heard it right. “What is she saying?”

  Heath shook his head. “I don’t know.”

  Justin glanced at Heath, who was pressing strips of Maria’s dress into the awful circle of bleeding wounds.

  Heath looked away from Maria to Justin, then Sister Margaret. “There’s nothing I can do. There’s nothing anyone can do.”

  Sister Margaret rested a hand on the back of Maria’s head, her lips moving in prayer.

  A long breath came that went on and on, exhaling every bit of air in Maria’s lungs, and there was no strength left to fill them again. With the last bit of air, she said, “Tener cuidado.”

  “Sister Margaret, do you know what she meant to say? Meh hee ko?”

  “Mexico, pronounced in the Spanish way.”

  Of course, that was how Mexicans pronounced the word. “And what’s viva?” Justin asked.

  “She’s saying ‘Long Live México,’” Sister Margaret said.

  “But why speak those words with your dying breath?”

  “Long Live México are the words of a revolution.”

  Justin looked between Sister Margaret and Heath. “What revolution?”

  Shaking her head, Sister Margaret replied, “There is no revolution that I know of, though we are taught those words when we study the Texas war for independence from Mexico. Texans said, ‘Remember the Alamo,’ and the Mexican army and those loyal to it said, ‘Viva México.’”

  It made sense now. He remembered hearing the phrase back in school. “And what else did she say? Tener cuidado?”

  Sister Margaret shook her head again. “I didn’t hear it. That phrase means nothing to me. Are you sure you heard it right?”

  “Cuidado—isn’t that what they call Juarez? Cuidado Juarez? Juarez is right across the border from El Paso. It’s about the closest Mexican town to us.” Justin wasn’t sure of anything anymore.

  “She’s gone,” Heath said. He seemed to have lost all his strength. His head bowed low for a long minute. Finally he gently pulled up the edges of her cut dress out of respect and modesty. He rose from his knees and went to the kitchen sink to wash his hands, moving slowly, as if the weight of the world rode on his shoulders.

  It made Justin look down to see his shirt, his arms, and his pants covered with blood. The clothes were beyond cleaning, although Justin suspected he’d never be able to wear them again regardless, not without thinking how his actions had led to the death of Miss Maria.

  Justin glanced back at Heath and saw him moving like an eighty-year-old man. He wondered what it cost someone with healing skills to lose a patient this way, to lose a woman to a violent attack. He knew what he felt. A wretched, soul-deep guilt.

  “They were gunning for me.” Justin looked down at the lady, who had worked for so long with Sadie. His sister was going to be devastated. “I took her behind the orphanage so we could speak privately. I asked her about Ramone. I wanted to know when she’d first spoken to him. I didn’t even get a chance to ask her anything.”

  Sister Margaret said, “She has always been a woman of low spirits. I worried about that many times. If anything, she’s too easily pushed around by the children.”

  “She just reunited with her brother for the first time in years, and she was frightened because I was suspicious of him. And she jumped to the conclusion that I was suspicious of her. Now, because I had to ask my questions, she’s dead.”

  Heath came back, wiping his hands and arms on a kitchen towel. “And whatever she knows, whatever made her say ‘Viva México,’ died with her. We can ask Rosita about that other phrase.”

  He threw the towel on a nearby table with a burst of anger, then seemed to get ahold of himself again. Unrolling his sleeves, he said, “I don’t think you can be absolutely sure that gunman was shooting at you. He might have been trying to silence a woman who knew too many secrets.”

  “About what?” Justin was mystified.

  Heath’s jaw went tight as he looked down at Maria’s still form. “About a revolution.”

  12

  Heath went for the sheriff. When Joe Dunn came, he was solemn to the point of tears at what had happened to Maria. And he had no idea what Maria might hav
e meant by “Viva México,” or if she might have been talking about Juarez.

  “Doesn’t seem to be any trouble at the moment between America and Mexico, none I’ve noticed here in town anyway. How can there be a revolution when the two peoples are getting along fine?”

  Justin said, “But are there folks willing to kill to stir up trouble with the goal of starting a revolution?”

  Sister Margaret brought a blanket over, which they used to cover Maria’s body. Justin carried her to the town’s undertaker. He’d just been there earlier today with Dantalion’s body. He wasn’t pleased to be such a regular customer.

  Justin and Heath told the sheriff all that had happened. When the sheriff ran out of questions, Justin said, “Time to head home.”

  Heath nodded without replying. They left the jail, and after a few quiet paces he reached up and patted Justin’s shoulder. “I feel terrible about Maria. I feel like the worst kind of sinner to be glad none of those bullets hit you.”

  Justin remembered the way Heath had come charging around the orphanage building, gun blazing. “I don’t think he’d’ve quit shooting if not for you, Heath. He only broke off when you opened fire. You saved my life.”

  Heath nodded. “You Bodens really can’t write a list long enough to give me credit for all I’ve done for you.”

  That quirked a smile out of Justin, one quickly suppressed.

  Then Heath said somberly, “Rosita said something about . . .” He rubbed his head as if trying to shake loose the memory. Heath looked worn clean out, and Justin had to admit he felt the same. He realized they hadn’t eaten since breakfast and it would be dinnertime when they got home.

  “About what?” They reached the orphanage, where their horses stood tied to the hitching post. The critters hadn’t eaten since breakfast either. Mounting up, Justin noticed two large bowls on the ground in front of the horses. A few grains of oats remained.

  Margaret had seen to their horses, God bless her.