Long Time Gone

by Mary Connealy

  Which reminded Justin of Maria’s last words. “And what does Juarez have to do with it?”

  Ramone’s brow furrowed. “Juarez? I came through Juarez on my way back here from Mexico City. But I knew no one there and I’ve never heard it spoken of when they talked of a revolt.”

  “Maria mentioned it. She whispered it as one of her few dying words. Why would she speak of Juarez if it weren’t important?”

  “She said Juarez was involved?”

  “Not exactly, but I figure it’s what she meant. She said ‘Viva México and tener cuidado.’ Cuidado means city, doesn’t it? And the full name for Juarez is Cuidado Juarez.”

  “No, it’s Cuidad Juarez.”

  When Ramone said it, Justin realized that wasn’t the word Maria had spoken. “Then what does tener cuidado mean?” Justin was upset with himself. He’d thought he knew and so hadn’t bothered to ask.

  “It means ‘beware,’ and ‘Viva México’ could just be a remark about loving Mexico and wanting that country to be well.”

  Justin swallowed. “But Maria wouldn’t talk of loving a country she’s never been to with her dying breath. No, she said it because she’d heard talk of a revolution and was warning me: Beware the revolution.”

  He’d almost talked himself out of it, decided there was something more going on. But for Maria to say it with her dying breath . . .

  He turned to Angie. “We’re going to the orphanage so you can pack up. You’re coming with us. Now.”

  22

  “I want you to move in with me.”

  Those weren’t Justin’s exact words, but that was what Angie heard.

  “What? No!” Angie pressed her hand to her throat and fought down the strange combination of thrill and fear.

  Justin was a pure temptation to sin. By that she meant sin by not standing on her own. She veered her mind from a host of other possible sins that popped into her head.

  “You have to come. Here I stand, ready to throw this door open, wondering if I’ll face gunfire because Ramone is connected to this, but then I’m supposed to take you back to the orphanage and just leave you?”

  “Why would anyone think I’m involved?”

  “For the same reason Heath’s name showed up on the list. It’s not just the Bodens; it’s all those close to them. And you just walked across town holding my hand.”

  “You were dragging me. That’s not the same thing.”

  “You went into Ramone’s house, when he is afraid he’s being watched, and now we leave—all of us together. How could someone who’s after the Bodens not think you’re involved?”

  “But I’m not involved! And Aunt Margaret needs me.”

  “I’m going to talk to your aunt. It’s been a struggle to keep help since Sadie quit. She needs to hire someone else.”

  “But I like my job!” She thought for a moment and added, “I don’t get paid, you know.”

  “Neither did Sadie.” Justin frowned. “We’ll figure something out so she can get along without you. Why not send the orphans to the Skull Gulch school?”

  “I think there was some trouble. Some folks thought orphans weren’t fit company for the other children.”

  “Well, that’s just plain stupid.”

  Angie raised both hands. She agreed, but didn’t know what to do about it.

  “Whatever troubles there are, you’re not going to stay at the orphanage.”

  “I want to. I love my aunt and I’m not abandoning her.” Although an idea came to Angie that might solve the whole thing and at little expense. But was it fair? Would it work? Should she—

  “Not only might you be in danger, but you might endanger everyone else there if someone decides to do you harm. What if one of the children had come outside when they were shooting at Maria?”

  With that one sentence, Angie knew he had her beat. She didn’t dare stay if it meant putting her aunt and the children in peril. “When in the world am I ever going to be in charge of my own life?”

  Justin looked back at Alonzo and Ramone. His eyes met Alonzo’s. “You ready for this?”

  Alonzo drew his gun, and it wasn’t the first time Justin wondered if he could trust the man—a man who now had a gun at Justin’s back.

  Being in charge of a ranch was proving to be nothing but a trial. Pa oughta just toughen up, stop coddling his broke leg, and come home. Running the ranch was Pa’s job after all, and Justin wasn’t sure he was handling it all that well in his absence. He wished he’d written to his folks and encouraged them to return home by Christmas. Pa could heal up here and yell orders at everyone from a chair in the barn.

  And speaking of orders, as they strode across town toward church, where Justin would tell his family Angie needed time to pack, he’d just ordered this beautiful, troublesome woman to come home with him.

  He was probably right about her being in deadly danger, so he didn’t see how he could do anything else. But he’d decided—although he tended to change his mind at odd moments—that he oughta stay away from her to keep her safe, not drag her into the middle of it all.

  Justin glanced between his big brother, who thought he knew everything, and his new brother-in-law, who was besotted with Sadie, and wondered who a man should go to for advice about women.

  He wished he had time to write a letter and ask his folks to come home. Tending Pa would give the woman something to do. He’d’ve done so too if he wasn’t worried about getting out of town before he got shot. And before he left town . . .

  “We have to stop at the sheriff’s office, and we need to stick together.”

  Angie just followed along. Her life was so out of control she was just doing whatever she was told. The sad part was this was how she’d lived most of her life.

  When they reached the door, Justin knocked hard, then went in. The sheriff stood slowly from his desk, as if he were the most relaxed man who ever lived. Angie was sorry the man had to work on Sunday.

  Arizona Watts rose from his cot in the cell. Angie hadn’t seen him except briefly at the Bodens’ house, where Justin had brought him after Cole’s shooting. Then the sheriff had come and taken him away. He’d been in jail ever since.

  “You Bodens about to admit you’ve made a fool’s mistake and let me out of this cell?”

  Justin smiled in a very mean way, then turned to the sheriff. “I’ve got a list of names I want you to check out. I think we might find the men who will testify against Watts here. But I think we should talk about it outside.”

  He’d just thought of that and said it to goad the prisoner.

  “We don’t need anyone to testify against Watts. I heard him confess with my own ears.” The sheriff fell in line with them and went outside, stepping well away from the door. “I meant to catch you before you left town, Justin, but I couldn’t get away. My deputy was supposed to come and take over, only he never showed up.”

  Justin handed the sheriff the list of names Ramone had given him, men he’d met who talked of revolution. Justin told the sheriff to stand guard over Ramone or have his deputy do it, at least until all these men were rounded up.

  Cole had some questions for Ramone. Sadie and Health listened and talked quietly between themselves. Alonzo had his gun drawn and his back to the group, most likely keeping the memory of how his aunt Maria had died right in the front of his mind.

  “Give me until the day after Christmas on this, Justin. There are ten names here and I can probably shove them all into one cell, but I’m not gonna be able to hold them long and I won’t without more than their unhappy talk. Grumbling ain’t against the law in these parts. Besides, if I go and arrest them, I’ll have to feed ’em. And with Christmas coming, they’ll probably expect turkey with all the trimmings.”

  “Why do you need extra time?”

  “The day after Christmas I’ll be moving Watts. That’s what I wanted to tell you. I wrote to the state capital to see if he’s a wanted man. I just got word that a territorial judge has asked for him to be transporte
d to Santa Fe. I have a man riding up to take Watts into custody. I’ve written up our evidence, and I’ll swear to it before the judge’s man. We won’t need to go. As soon as I get him sent on his way, I’ll round these men up.” Sheriff Dunn waved the slip of paper. “I’ll send word to you when they’re locked up. I hope this’ll help us get to the bottom of what’s been going on. Getting Watts out of the cell will help, especially if we have any chance of scaring him about what these men might know.”

  Justin nodded. “I’ll wait to hear from you. Tell that man transporting Watts to be real careful. He seems fearless, and anyone handling him should be wary.”

  “We should have brought Mel home with us, too.” Sadie hugged Angie after they got her settled in the Boden ranch house. “She’s always fun to have around.”

  Angie hated to stop Sadie’s cheerful excitement, but . . . “It’s not a party, Sadie. Justin’s trying to keep everyone from getting killed. He probably trusts Mel’s father to protect her, but he’s not quite so sure about Aunt Margaret.”

  Aunt Margaret was tough, but considering poor Maria’s fate, Angie could understand that.

  Sadie sat down on the freshly made bed in her parents’ room and folded her hands in her lap as if settling in for a chat.

  Rosita came in at that moment. Her black eyes went between Sadie and Angie in a solemn way. Her expression spoke of affection and deep concern. “I had the notion of giving you each a gift for Christmas, but I decided it was time now for the gifts. There’s been so much strife here, and I thought it right to remind you of the special season.”

  She extended her hands, each with a string of beads dangling from it. “The colors caught my eye in the general-store window a few days ago. These are made by the Pueblo people. I thought something bright and beautiful might lift all our spirits. I have one for each of you. Some of the beads are from colored stones, others from the clay dug out of the ground and painted.”

  Angie lifted the string of beads from Rosita’s hand. Each bead was a different color, from bright red and glittering white to darkest black. There were at least twenty beads on the necklace, including earth tones, one the natural color of clay. “It’s beautiful.”

  “I thought they were pretty things, much as you two girls are pretty things. And I like the idea of you wearing stone strung on leather. That way you can carry a bit of the land around with you and be reminded of your own strength.”

  “I’m not sure I have much strength,” Angie said.

  Rosita pressed a strong hand gently against Angie’s cheek. “You are strong, niña bonita. You are here, aren’t you? Though your life has been hard, you have survived. Your spirit is not crushed, your heart is unbroken.”

  The words lifted Angie’s spirits. She looked from Rosita to the necklace, and it was as if Rosita’s encouragement shone out in the bright beads. “I will always cherish this, Rosita.” She slipped the necklace over her head and let the beads dangle. “I shouldn’t wear it now. I should save it for special times.”

  Rosita drew five strings of the beads from inside her dress. She must always wear them inside her clothes, because Angie had never seen them before. “No, wear them all the time. If you aren’t dressed up fit for a necklace, drop it inside your collar. There are those among the Pueblo people who think of certain beads as good luck or a special protection. These are superstitions, and I put my trust in God, but for me the necklaces are a reminder of God being near and of the beauty of His earth. I would be proud if you would keep it with you.”

  “I will, I promise. It’ll be a reminder that I do have strength, even if I must look deep inside to find it.” Angie smiled and kissed Rosita’s weathered brown cheek. “It’s the first Christmas gift I’ve received in years. My mother and husband thought such things were for children, but I’m surprised how much this touches my heart. Thank you, Rosita.”

  Sadie gave Rosita a hug and whispered words that must have made Rosita happy, because she smiled as she patted Sadie on the back.

  “Now,” Rosita said, “what more do we need to do to settle you in?”

  “Are you sure I should stay here?” Honestly, Angie was feeling a bit uncomfortable. “It’s your parents’ room, Sadie, and besides that, Cole was in here not that long ago.” It felt intrusive and overly personal to sleep in a bed a man had recently vacated. “You said there’s a fourth bedroom upstairs?”

  “A room, yes, but there’s no bed in it. There are boxes stored in there and very little floor space.”

  “I could sleep on blankets on the floor.”

  “It’s proper for you to sleep down here,” Rosita said. “That room upstairs is near to Justin and Cole.”

  Angie didn’t feel comfortable about that either.

  If they wanted proper, they probably should have brought Mel along—on the condition that Mel brought her mother. But Sadie was a married woman and therefore a good enough chaperone, and Rosita was better than good enough. She was as watchful as Aunt Margaret.

  Angie nodded, accepting the room.

  Rosita smiled and bustled out.

  “Now,” Sadie said in a falsely cheerful voice, “because the big, strong men are trying so hard to keep us safe, which means they’d like to lock us in the cellar with an armed guard posted in the kitchen . . .”

  Angie had to admit that Sadie knew her brothers and her husband well.

  “. . . I think we should stop worrying about the terrible crimes that have been committed against my family and plan Christmas.” Sadie’s tone suddenly wasn’t a young woman enjoying a visit. She was a tough frontierswoman with a gift for sarcasm.

  “You don’t seem like a woman who ignores danger, Sadie. Which makes me wonder if you’re not cooking up some plan to fight these awful men.”

  “It’s high time someone had a plan, Angie.”

  By the time Sadie was done explaining, Angie wondered if she hadn’t oughta move out of the Bodens’ bedroom and go hide under their porch. Maybe Rosita would bring her food.

  23

  The day after Christmas the sheriff rode up while Justin stood in the barn pitching straw into a clean stall.

  All had been peaceful at the CR and they’d had a fine, if simple, Christmas. No one had given much thought to presents, but they’d gotten a nice box from Ma and Pa. Ma must’ve had time to shop some in Denver.

  Justin tossed aside his pitchfork as the sheriff emerged from the stall with the light of victory in his eyes.

  “We need to talk privately.” The sheriff looked around the barn. There were three other cowhands close by doing their morning chores. Justin knew he still didn’t trust them and that only made it more impossible to believe the peace would last.

  The two men stepped out into the chilly, clear December morning, away from the cowhands.

  When they’d put a good amount of space between themselves and the barn, the sheriff said, “We’ve identified Dantalion.”

  Justin stopped so fast that he almost skidded on the frozen ground. “What did you learn?”

  “It wasn’t easy. I wrote to several of the lawmen around here with a description and I got no answers. They all promised to ask around. Finally this morning the man from Santa Fe, the one who came to pick up Arizona Watts, brought me a letter from the U.S. Marshal down there.”

  “He knew Dantalion?”

  “He sure enough did. He’s been around the territorial capital a while, and Sam, the Marshal, was suspicious of him a time or two.”

  “For what?”

  “Sam’s suspicions were vague. There’s been a few incidents where bad things happened. A rancher’s only son and heir died under strange circumstances. A herd of cattle was rustled so skillfully, no one knew they were gone until they’d been driven across the border. Another rancher had money trouble that came from one piece of bad luck after another, and he finally sold out to a man Sam didn’t trust.”

  “And he thought Dantalion was behind all this?”

  The sheriff’s eyes narrowed. “There w
as no proof. That’s why there are no wanted posters. He’d never been caught or even accused of anything. But Dantalion would show up in Santa Fe, and sure enough there’d be trouble. It happened a few times too many, and Sam had begun some investigating. He had to be real careful, though. Dantalion knew some people high up in the government, and without solid proof, Sam might’ve found himself with powerful enemies.”

  “Like the governor?”

  “He didn’t say that in his letter, but I wondered. What he did say was that he ran across the letter I sent around in an odd way. He was in the sheriff’s office, waiting for the lawman to come back. They were supposed to have a meeting. A breeze came down the chimney and blew some burning ash out onto the floor and along with it the letter I’d sent. It’d been thrown on the fire but had fallen to the side and hadn’t caught. Sam picked it up to toss it back onto the fire. He read a few words and realized it was the kind of thing the sheriff would’ve usually shown him. So why had it been tossed away?”

  “He recognized the description?”

  “Yep, especially because he was already suspicious of the man. And now he suspects the sheriff was covering up for Dantalion. My letter also told him Dantalion was dead. Sam got to thinking the sheriff might’ve run off to pass that news along.”

  “Does Sam know who might’ve been behind Dantalion’s crimes?”

  “He’s got some ideas, but he needed to ask a few more questions. He said there’d be another letter in a day or two. He’s a good lawman and nothing makes him madder’n a crooked sheriff. Sam also said he has an idea that might get to the bottom of everything. I think you oughta consider it.”

  Justin was all for someone having an idea.