The Faith and the Rangers

by James J. Griffin

  “I’ll round up everyone I can, Father,” Mazurek promised.

  “I’ll give you a hand,” Zielinski offered. “I can’t do much sitting here. Unless you don’t want me to leave, Betty.”

  “No,” his wife answered. “You go on. I’ll stay with the boys.”

  “We’ll be back as soon as possible,” Mazurek stated. “Fathers, we’ll see you tonight.”

  5

  Jack Taylor was on the porch of his ranch house, enjoying one last beer before turning in, when Monte Harding, his foreman, and several of the ranch hands rode up.

  “You boys are back early,” Taylor noted. “I figured you’d stay in town overnight.”

  “We’d planned on that, but I’ve got some news you won’t like,” Harding answered.

  “What’s that?”

  “The bartender at the Black Horse says that priest has sent for the Rangers.”

  “He wouldn’t have dared to!” Taylor exploded, with an oath.

  “Not according to Harry,” Harding answered. “He claims the Rangers are already on the way.”

  “Where’d he hear that?” Taylor demanded.

  “Couple of the cowboys from Casimir Voytek’s spread let it slip. Looks like instead of givin’ in, like you thought would happen, those thick Polacks called in the Rangers.”

  Harding spat in the dust.

  “I told you they’d never leave, unless you drove ‘em off.”

  “You were right,” Taylor conceded. “But it’s still not too late. If we take care of Nowicki before the Rangers get here, the rest will give up. We can handle any who don’t.”

  “Kill a priest?” Harding looked doubtful. “Well, if we do, we’ll have to get rid of the other one too. And we’d better move fast. Harry tells me Nowicki sent his request for help to Austin several days ago. That means those Rangers’ll be here anytime now.”

  “Yeah, but Nowicki’s the one I want to make sure I gun down,” Taylor snarled, eyes blazing in a way that made even his foreman cringe. “Get some shut-eye. We’ll head out at sunup.”

  6

  Father Nowicki whispered his morning prayers while he vested for the Tuesday Mass. Weekday Masses were sparsely attended. The nuns, along with the regular group of elderly women saying their rosaries, occupied the front pews, while old Thomas Mazurek was in his usual place in the rear left pew. Regina Grosecki was, as always, seated next to him. A few others were scattered throughout the sanctuary.

  “It’s time, Peter,” he said to his altar server. They went to the altar, genuflected, and started the Mass.

  “Introibo ad altare Dei,” the pastor began.

  Nowicki recited the ancient Latin words. He led the congregation through the Confiteor, Kyrie (which is Greek, not Latin), and Gloria. He read the day’s Epistle and Gospel. Then the Creed was recited, followed by the Offertory and Sanctus.

  The most sacred part of the Mass was reached, the Consecration, where bread and wine would be transfigured into the Body and Blood of Christ. Nowicki bowed over the sacred Host.

  “Qui pridie quam pateretur, accepit panem in sanctas ac venerabilis manus suas, et elevates oculis in coelum ad te Deum Patrem suum omnipotentem tibi gratias agens…”

  Jack Taylor and three of his men burst through the church doors, pistols drawn. While his men covered the parishioners, Taylor aimed his sixgun at the center of the cross embroidered on the back of the pastor’s robes.

  “That’s right. Say your prayers, priest!” Taylor shouted. “’Cause I’m gonna send you straight to Hell!”

  Nowicki didn’t turn his head. He continued the prayer.

  “…benedixit, fregit, diditque discipilus suis, dicens: Accipite, et manducate ex hoc omnes:

  “HOC EST ENIM CORPUS MEUM.”

  He lifted the Host in veneration. Taylor thumbed back the hammer of his Colt.

  Nowicki lowered the Host and genuflected. Taylor fired. The bullet went over the pastor’s head and into the wall, directly under the crucifix.

  Not even flinching at the shot, Father Nowicki spoke the words of Consecration over the chalice.

  “Simili, modo postquam coenatum est, accipiens et huc praeclarum Calicem in…”

  “Turn around and look at me, Nowicki!” Taylor

  screamed. He again thumbed back the hammer of his gun.

  “.. .sanctas ac venerabilis manus suas, item tibi…”

  A flurry of gunfire sounded outside. The church doors were again flung open. Two men, one wearing a silver star on silver circle badge, rushed inside, guns at the ready. Taylor’s men turned to confront them, but thought better of shooting, facing those leveled Colts.

  “Drop your gun, Mister!” the badge-wearing Ranger ordered.

  “I’m gonna kill this priest!” Taylor screeched.

  “…gratias agens, benedixit, deditque disciples suis,…”

  Nowicki continued the prayer.

  “…dicens: Accepite, et bibite ex eo omnes:”

  The Ranger thumbed back his Colt’s hammer, unwilling to fire lest his bullet hit the pastor or altar boy rather than Taylor. Nowicki continued the act of consecrating the wine into the Blood of Christ.

  “HIC EST ENIM CALIX SANGUINIS MEI, NOVI ET AETERNI TESTAMENTI: MYSTERIUM FIDEI: QUI PRO VOBIS ET PRO MULTIS EFFUNDETUR IN REMISSIONEM PECCATORUM.”

  “Haec quotiescumque feceritis, in mei memoriam facietis.”

  Taylor squeezed the trigger just as Nowicki lifted the chalice. A ray of sunshine burst through the stained glass window above the altar, reflecting off the upraised chalice directly into the rancher’s eyes. Blinded, Taylor dropped the pistol to shield his eyes. His bullet plowed into the floor.

  The badge-wearing Ranger rushed up to Taylor and jabbed his gun into the rancher’s back.

  “You’re under arrest, Mister. Outside!” he ordered. He and his partner hustled Taylor and his men out of the church.

  “Undi et momores, Domini…”

  Nowicki continued the Mass.

  ^^^^^^^^^^^^^

  Once the Mass was concluded, Father Nowicki and the congregants headed outside, where a small crowd had gathered. Ranger Frank Czajkowski hurried up to the pastor. The badge-wearing Ranger was at Czajkowski’s side. Three other Rangers guarded several prisoners, two of whom were wounded. Monte Harding lay at the bottom of the rectory steps, killed by a Ranger bullet in his chest. Father Jankowski was praying over the dead man.

  “Father, are you all right?” Czajkowski asked.

  “I’m fine, Frank,” Nowicki replied.

  “I’d like you to meet my sergeant, Jim Huggins,” Czajkowski introduced.

  “I’m very pleased to meet you, Sergeant. And I’m very grateful. Thank you.”

  The priest and the Ranger shook hands.

  “Father, you’re either the bravest man I’ve ever met, or the most foolhardy,” Huggins stated. “Standing there at that altar calm as could be rather’n ducking for cover.”

  “I put my faith in the Lord,” Nowicki answered.

  “I have faith in the Lord too, Father,” Czajkowski retorted, “but when you’re up against a man like Jack Taylor, you’d also better put some faith in the Texas Rangers.”

  “What did I tell you, Father?” Regina broke in. “You need the Rangers to handle a swinia like Taylor.”

  “I don’t even want to know what swinia means,” Huggins chuckled.

  “I can tell you, but it’s not polite,” Nowicki responded, also laughing.

  “Anyway, Father, Frank’s tellin’ it to you straight. So’s the lady,” Huggins agreed. “We were lucky to get here in

  time. If you ever need us again, please don’t wait so long to ask for our help.”

  “You’re right. That’s good advice,” the pastor conceded. “However, I don’t believe we’ll require the Rangers’ assistance henceforth.”r />
  Father Nowicki looked toward the body of Harding.

  “What happened out here?”

  “Taylor’s men tried to stop us from reaching the church,” Huggins explained. “We had to shoot it out. The one we killed was about to plug your associate. I realize you men of the cloth don’t like killing, but sometimes it can’t be avoided.”

  “I know.” Nowicki sighed. “It’s terrible what greed will do to a person. If Jack Taylor had accepted our offer to share water rights none of this would have happened.”

  “You can’t reason with some hombres,” Huggins observed. “Well, you won’t have to worry about Taylor any longer. He’s facing a long jail term.”

  “And now things should settle down,” Czajkowski added. “Is there anything we can do for you right now, Father?”

  “Once you get the prisoners to Sheriff Musgrave and they’re locked up, perhaps you’ll return here?” the pastor suggested. “We’ll celebrate a special Mass at noon, thanking God for protecting us. We’ll also pray for his blessing and protection for you Rangers.”

  “We’ll do that,” Huggins promised.

  Once the Rangers, taking Harding’s body and their prisoners, departed, Fathers Nowicki, Jankowski, and many of their parishioners filed back into the church. They would spend the rest of the morning in silent prayer.

  Left Handed Law

  1

  “We’re home, Sam,” Texas Ranger Lieutenant Jim Blawcyzk said to his big paint gelding, as they reached Jim’s small home on the outskirts of Bandera. It was just about sundown. There was no sign of his wife or three year old son in the yard, and a dim light shown through the kitchen window.

  “I guess Julia and Charlie are inside eatin’ supper, or Julia’s gettin’ him ready for bed,” Jim continued. “I can sure use some rest myself. So can you, horse. C’mon pard. Let’s get you settled.”

  Sam nickered a response, then broke into a trot. A moment later he was nuzzling the gate of his corral. Ted, Charlie’s pet paint gelding, whinnied a welcome from the run-in shed.

  Jim dismounted, stripped the gear from his horse and hung it on the fence, then turned Sam into the corral.

  He gave the horse the last of the peppermints he always carried for him.

  “I’ll be back to care for you in a bit,” he promised. Sam trotted off, then dropped to the sand to roll, while Jim headed for the house. The front door opened before he was halfway across the yard.

  “Dad!” Charlie called from the doorway.

  “Yeah, pardner. I’m home!” Jim took the stairs two at a time, picked up his son, hugged him, and perched the boy on his shoulders. He had to duck to enter the kitchen, where Julia stood waiting. Jim crossed the room in three strides, took Julia in his arms, and kissed her.

  “Surprised to see me?” Jim asked, after they broke their embrace. “I’m home a few days sooner than planned.”

  “Only a little,” Julia answered, her brown eyes sparkling with pleasure. “Charlie said you’d be home today. Somehow he seems to know when you’re returning. Did you get the men you were after?”

  “Yeah, Dad. I knew you’d come home today,” Charlie confirmed.

  “And you were right,” Jim grinned. He lifted the boy from his shoulders, sat him in the corner rocker, and tousled Charlie’s hair.

  “Yes, I did get those hombres,” he continued. “Frank Taunton and Beau Mallory are locked up. I’ve also got

  some more news. I’m gonna be home for a spell this time.”

  “Are you serious, Jim?” Julia asked. Usually the Rangers only allowed her husband a few days off between assignments.

  “I sure am,” Jim replied, “Not by my choice, though. The legislature’s been stallin’ about money for the Rangers again. You know politicians, always scheming to line their own pockets before worryin’ about the folks they’re supposed to serve. We’ve all been furloughed for a month. The only good news is they finally appropriated funds for the force, but they won’t be reinstated until the first of next month. That means I’ll be home until then.”

  “Which is the second piece of good news,” Julia noted.

  “Yeah, I reckon,” Jim answered. “And there may be a bit more. The Adjutant General’s asked for authorization to add twenty more Rangers to the rolls. If that’s approved, we won’t be spread so thin. Mebbe I’ll be able to spend less time on the trail.”

  “That wouldn’t necessarily make you happier,” Julia observed. She had known from the start Jim was incapable of staying in one place for long. After a few days, his need to be on the move was almost irresistible.

  “You’re right again,” Jim conceded. “There’s no denyin’ that.”

  “But right now you’re here. That’s all that matters. I’ll heat up some leftover chicken for you. It will only take a few minutes.”

  “Good lookin’ and a good cook. You’re the best wife in Texas, honey,” Jim answered.

  “Flattery won’t get you anywhere,” Julia laughed, the promise in her eyes and smile denying her words. Her eagerness to be with Jim again was clearly evident. “While I’m heating your supper, why don’t you put Charlie to bed?”

  “Aw, Mom, do I have to?” Charlie pleaded.

  “It’s already past your bedtime,” Julia answered.

  “I’ll tell you what, Charlie,” Jim said. “You can help me rub down and feed Sam. After that, I’ll wash up a mite, then you go to bed.”

  “Can we ride?” Charlie asked.

  “Not tonight,” Jim laughed, “I’ve spent enough time in the saddle the past few weeks. We’ll see what tomorrow brings.”

  “All right, Dad.”

  “Remember, once we’re finished, you go straight to bed and right to sleep,” Jim ordered.

  “Okay, dad. I promise,” Charlie agreed.

  “Good. We won’t be long, Julia.”

  “You’d better not be.”

  ^^^^^^^^^^^^^

  Charlie ended up not going straight to bed, but was allowed to remain up as his dad ate a late supper. While Jim ate, Julia caught him up on all the latest news from town.

  “There’s two new sisters at the convent, Sisters Angelica and Marguerite,” she noted. “They seem very nice. Father Jaksina says they’ll be serving as both teachers and nurses. Jason’s putting an addition on the store. Three new families moved in.”

  “The town’s growin’ fast,” Jim said. “And the ranchers seem to be doin’ better and better. Good news for the folks around here.”

  “It certainly is. Oh, and remember the Havliceks were expecting their nephew? His parents both died. Since he has no other kin, he was coming from up north to live with them?”

  “I do recollect that.”

  “He arrived three weeks ago. His name’s Cody. He’s going to learn the cabinetmaking trade from Stanley. I’ve already spoken to him about some shelves for the kitchen.”

  “I can do that,” Jim objected. “Besides, we won’t be here more’n a year or so. By then I’ll have enough money

  saved for that place up around San Leanna we’ve talked about.”

  “You barely have time to keep the house up now,” Julia pointed out. “And you can do rough carpentry, but I want nicely sanded and varnished shelves. Cody’s willing to do them inexpensively, for the practice. You don’t mind, do you?”

  “I can never say no to you, Julia. You know that,” Jim sighed.

  “I know. But I have to let you think you can,” she teased. “Besides, I think you’ll like Cody. He’s about your age, and believe it or not, you and he are distant cousins.”

  “We are? How’s that?”

  “Anna can explain it better than I. You’ll have to ask her,” Julia answered.

  “I’ll do that,” Jim said. He pushed himself back from the table.

  “It was sure good to have a home-cooked meal again, rather
’n the burnt bacon and beans I make. I’m stuffed. Charlie, now it really is time for you to get to bed. You’re half-asleep already. C’mon. I’ll tuck you in, then help your mom with the dishes. Kiss her goodnight.”

  “All right, Dad,” Charlie yawned.

  Charlie kissed his mother and told her good night. Jim picked up his sleepy son and carried him to bed. By the time he pulled the blankets over Charlie and kissed his cheek, the boy was already asleep.

  Julia and Jim finished cleaning up the kitchen, then headed for their own bedroom. Jim knelt alongside the bed to say his evening prayers, then pulled off his boots and socks and peeled off his shirt. He yawned hugely, then stretched.

  “Guess I’m more tired than I realized,” he said.

  Julia ran her hand over his chest.

  “Jim, exactly how tired are you?”

  “Not that tired,” Jim laughed. He wrapped her in his arms and kissed her. They sank slowly to the mattress.

  ^^^^^^^^^^^^^

  After feeding the horses and eating breakfast, Jim spent the rest of the next morning catching up on some of the neglected chores and repairs. Charlie, once he’d gathered eggs from the henhouse, tagged along after Jim, as always. The boy was the spitting image of his father, with the same blonde hair and blue eyes. He was holding nails for Jim, who was repairing some loose boards on the porch. Julia was sitting on the steps, shelling peas for supper.

  “Dad, when can I have a puppy?” Charlie asked. “You promised I could, last time you were home.”

  “I know I did,” Jim answered. “Tell you what. I’ll check with Mister Hines and see when his collie will be having her next litter. You can pick out a nice pup then.”

  “Gee, thanks Dad!” Charlie exclaimed.

  “Are you sure it’s not too soon for that, Jim?” Julia questioned.

  “Not at all,” Jim replied. “A boy needs a dog. Besides, a dog will be protection for both of you when I’m not around.”

  “Yeah, Mom. My dog and I’ll keep the bad guys away.”

  Charlie pulled the toy wooden six-gun he always had stuck in the waistband of his jeans and started banging away at imaginary outlaws.