The Devil's Staircase
Page 3
"That’s it. If it weren’t for Tompkins, we’d still be in uniform," Kyle answered firmly.
"I believe you. If you do this job well, might just be I could get you boys permanent assignments with the Rangers."
Tad shook his head. "No, thank you. We done our bit in a uniform. We’ll do you right till we get to Santa Fe but from then on we’re on our own. We’re through taking orders and ready to try something else."
"Fair enough. That’s all I’m asking." Jack liked these plain spoken and honest men. It was much easier to deal with a straight talking rogue than a pious hypocrite with something to hide.
"Why they call you Black Jack?" Tad asked.
"I’ve had that handle ever since I joined the Rangers. I was just a kid. Joined up when the first band of Rangers was organized after San Jacinto. I think the older men were teasing me more than anything else, but the name stuck and I’ve carried it ever since."
Patch Wilkes stepped to the corral fence and watched the men. He looked bad after too much drink and not enough sleep. "Gloomy Jack was what we originally called him but after a while we changed it to Black Jack. His temper was even worse than his mood."
"Pick your mounts and saddle one," Jack said.
Wilkes nodded and gathered a rawhide lariat. Within moments he had a dark bay gelding led to the fence. "I’ll take that dun as my remount if he hasn’t been claimed," he said.
"The men have already picked. Take any you like," Jack said. "You don’t look so good this morning."
Wilkes rested his head on the saddle. "I’ll be fine. I just had a little too much corn is all."
"This is probably as good a time as any to say it," Jack said. "You boys are working for Texas now. I’m sure the Mexicans will want to give you orders. If it’s just a matter of helping out and they ask, that’s fine. Do what you can. But don’t take orders, don’t leave camp and don’t separate from each other on anybody’s word but mine. You got to watch your backs and each other’s as well. We’ll be outnumbered and outgunned. Our job for now is to guard the money. Everything else comes second. You boys follow my orders and no one else."
Patch looked up from his saddle and gave Jack a hard look.
"No one else," Jack repeated. He spoke quietly to Patch. "You bought those outfits on your own. It don’t make you second in command."
"The hell it don’t," Patch snarled.
Jack gave him a hard look. "Don’t push me on this. I’m running this show and what I say goes."
"We’re partners on this," Patch said. "Whatever you got up your sleeve, I expect a share."
"The only thing up my sleeve is getting this woman and her people to Santa Fe. After that I find Rafael and kill him."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Patch said. "I’ll make sure you get your chance at Rafael. You can depend on that."
Black Jack drew his cinch tight and slapped his stirrup down to make his point. "That’s all I expect."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Patch repeated, resigning himself to the fact that Jack was admitting nothing.
The Cole brothers and Kaufman mounted their horses, slinging the muskets across their backs.
"You boys know how to use them muskets?" Patch asked.
Tad Cole nodded. "These old smooth bores work good enough at close range. We carried muskets like these for years."
"I wish they was rifles," Jack said as he mounted.
"They’ll do. I’d just as soon have these as a rifle from the back of a horse. One thing about it, a .69 caliber makes a mighty big hole. They do fine for night guard loaded with shot."
Jack nodded. "That’s the way I load mine." Then to Patch. "You coming with us."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," he answered as he stepped into his stirrup.
* * * *
Antonio Ortiz made a slow inspection of Dona Elaina’s carriage. He was especially careful with the wheels, undercarriage and hitch pin. Six fine black geldings were harnessed and stamped eagerly to be on their way. Paco Torres patiently held the team in place from the driver’s seat. He had already checked the carriage and knew it was in first-class condition. Paco was nearing the sixty-year mark and easily the oldest man in the outfit but he had served Senora Valverde for years and was her most devoted servant.
A boy of fifteen, Earnesto, waited at the back for his carriage duties to commence.
Segundo, Ortiz’s lead vaquero, rode his palomino stallion to the carriage and waited for Ortiz’s orders. He was a fine, handsome vaquero, well dressed in the fashion and carrying two large pistols in pommel holsters and a flintlock carbine across his saddle. "The men are ready," he said in Spanish.
Ortiz nodded without looking away from the carriage. "We wait for the Rangers. When they come I will escort the senora to the carriage."
"Why these Tejanos?" Segundo asked after spitting into the ground. "My vaqueros will serve her proudly."
"I know that. It is the senora’s wish that the Rangers are part of the escort. Of that I know nothing else."
Segundo cut his eyes to Paco. "Why are you smiling, old one?"
"Be patient. Before this journey is ended we will be glad to have all the assistance we can get, even if it is from Rangers."
Ortiz nodded agreement. "Summon your vaqueros, amigo. The Rangers will come in a short time and we must be on our way as soon as possible."
Segundo whistled shrilly through his teeth and nine vaqueros assembled their horses from beneath the cottonwoods and mounted. Three more peasants on foot assembled sixteen pack burros in the courtyard. Another vaquero rode from the barn leading three handsome mules with diamond packs tightly laced to their backs closely followed by a supply wagon.
As the group assembled, Black Jack Ransom and his Rangers rode into the courtyard, each man leading his extra mount.
Ortiz waved them forward and pointed to the other side of the courtyard. "The remuda is just outside the walls. You may put your horses with ours."
Tad Cole rode forward and took control of Patch and Jack’s extra mounts. "We’ll take care of that."
Patch shook his head. "Look’s like a Chinese circus. It’ll be impossible to move quietly through Comanche country with this outfit."
Black Jack nodded. "Yeah. But a big outfit like this should discourage any full blown raids."
"Or encourage one. That big remuda will look like stick candy to a Comanche."
Dona Elaina in a long black cloak followed by two servant girls walked from the hacienda toward the carriage. Ortiz moved swiftly to escort her while Earnesto opened the carriage door and waited at attention.
Patch leaned on his saddle horn and spoke softly. "My oh my, would you look at her, Jacky. Ain’t she something?"
"She’s a beautiful woman, that’s for sure."
"Them little senoritas ain’t too bad either."
"Just remember that they’re off limits. These Mexicans will slit you from gullet to belly bone if they catch you messing with them."
Patch smiled. "Just appreciating the scenery. I ain’t about to get these Mexes riled over some skirt."
"Just remember that. We’re going to have plenty to handle as it is."
"Wonder why she’s going on this jaunt. She sure don’t look like the type of woman to go traipsing through Injun country."
Jack urged his mount toward the carriage. "I wouldn’t know."
Patch watched him. "I’ll bet," he said softly.
As Jack approached, Dona Elaina spoke quietly to Ortiz. He nodded understanding as he helped her into the carriage. The servant girls followed and Earnesto closed the door before climbing into the driver’s seat with Corrello. Ortiz mounted a fine buckskin stallion and rode to Black Jack.
"Dona Elaina is grateful that you were able to bring extra men. She thanks you for making the extra effort to find them."
Jack nodded. "Extend my thanks to her. I was lucky to find them."
"Dona Elaina suggests that we follow the Colorado River to San Angelo then to Sierra Blanca and El Paso on the Rio Grande then follow the r
iver trail into Santa Fe."
"Not too far north before we reach the Rio. I want to keep south of Comanche country as much as possible."
"Agreed. She suggests that we try to rest at the Gomez Rancho before making the overland crossing from San Angelo."
"I know the place. It sounds like a good route. As far as I’m concerned, you people know that country as well as I do. As long as we stay clear of ambush and out of the way of the Comanches as much as possible, I’ll have no quarrel with your route."
"She also asks that you and your Rangers ride immediately behind the carriage with the pack mules between. She requests that you remain watchful of the pack mules."
"That’s all right as long as you understand that I intend to use Patch over there as a scout as much as possible."
"May we send riders with him?"
"Of course, I don’t want any man riding alone if possible."
Ortiz smiled. "Then we should have no trouble. I will tell her of your plans." He returned to the carriage and relayed the message through the curtained window.
Tad Cole returned and swung his horse next to Jack’s. "I count nineteen men and a boy including two armed men with the remuda."
"A good portion of them are unarmed peons," Jack said. "I count fourteen armed vaqueros with your two but they’ve probably got some guns stashed in the wagons."
"Where do you want us?"
"We’ll follow the pack mules behind the carriage. Nice work, Tad. I appreciate the count."
"Been soldiering too long not to pay attention to numbers." Tad said as he motioned for Kyle and Toby to follow him.
Patch rode to Black Jack’s side. "Twelve of them are armed with guns, mostly carbines. Every single man carries a knife."
Jack nodded. "Plus two remuda riders."
"There’s something else you ought to notice if you haven’t," Patch whispered. "No one’s being left behind and there’s no stock left in the corrals."
Jack gave a swift review of the grounds. "No house servants?"
"None that I can see and no extra vaqueros. Who the hell does she expect to run this place while she’s gone?"
Jack shook his head. "Last I heard, she had at least fifty men riding for her. Where are the rest?"
"That’s a good question. She’s got at least thirty men unaccounted for and no house servants remaining behind. She’s leaving this place bare for the pickings."
Jack eyed the hacienda carefully. All the shutters were closed and no servants were working the area. He smiled. "She ain’t planning on coming back. She’s making a run for it and she’s got Houston escorting her out of Texas. Ain’t that something?"
Chapter 5
The caravan made steady progress as it followed the Colorado River Trail over the Edwards Plateau toward San Angelo Mission. Antonio Ortiz, his vaqueros, then the carriage, the pack mules, the Rangers, the supply wagon and finally the pack burros made up the caravan. The remuda was driven alongside away from the river. During the course of their travel, as was the custom, nothing was seen of the women in the carriage. Ransom and his Rangers had little contact with the Mexicans except for periodic consultations with Ortiz. They camped next to the Colorado the fourth night with a high ridge of hills on the south bank. The Rangers maintained a second campfire separate from the Valverde group.
It was dark and the stars were just beginning to put on a show when Black Jack stepped to the fire. "Starting tomorrow, Patch, I want you to head out and do some scouting. Ortiz is sending two vaqueros to ride with you."
"Don’t need nor want the company," Patch said without looking up from his beans.
"Well, you got it. He doesn’t trust us and I don’t want you riding out alone. It’s too risky."
"Shit, I ain’t got no use for them. You know that. One of them’ll probably try to knife me in the back."
Jack grinned as he poured himself a cup of coffee. "Naw, Patch, they’ll probably just shoot you."
Patch gave out a soft chuckle. "Probably."
Black Jack returned to the Mexican camp.
Toby Kaufman stepped to the fire for a refill. "That’s the first joke I’ve heard him make. Is he always so sober?" He held out the pot offering Patch a refill.
Patch held out his cup for Toby to pour. "He was a quiet kid during the rebellion. Comanches massacred his family and he was on his own at twelve. He was so bashful we called him Gloomy Jack as a joke. He grew out of it and became one hell of a fighter. I never knew a kid with more guts. After San Jacinto, he joined the Rangers. I guess it was the only home he thought he had. He and John Coffee Hays became fast friends and he rode with him along the border. A few years later he fell for a cute little gal, married her and changed into a different man. Looked like he was going to give up Rangering when she had his child. Hays talked him into one more tour of duty. We were having some trouble along the border with Mexican insurgents. Adrian Woll had taken San Antonio and Hays needed every good man he could get. No more than a day before his tour of duty ended, Mexican bandits hit his place. Killed the woman and the baby. Worse than that was the way they did it. They skinned her alive and left her hanging from the cabin rafters. Dashed the baby’s brains against the wall."
"Lord, almighty," Kyle Cole said as he set up from his blankets. "What for?"
"Cause he rode with Major Hays. That whole company was hard on everyone who crossed them, especially Mexicans. We all figured it was a vendetta. They couldn’t get at Hays and took it out on Ransom because they could."
"How’d he stand it?" Toby asked.
"He didn’t. He went crazy. I never saw a man turn the way he did. He didn’t say a word for a month. He hardly drank or ate. Finally, he just got on his horse and started after them. For three years he tracked those men down. Mexican stories of how he learned their identities and located them will curl your hair. The Mexicans took to calling him Diablo, the devil, for what he did. He killed them one at a time, beheaded them, and hung the heads in an oak tree over his wife and baby’s grave. They say he’s only got one man left to find; a bandit named Rafael."
"Lord almighty," Kyle repeated softly.
Tad Cole nodded and sipped his coffee. "I’ve noticed how he gets that far away look in his eyes when we’re sitting around the campfire."
"I don’t think he can forget the image of what he found in that cabin. Boys, you don’t want to see Black Jack Ransom angry. It ain’t a pretty sight, no-sir-re."
"You’ve Rangered with him a while?" Tad asked.
"Only for two ninety-day tours, before all this happened. I got my fill of Rangering real quick. There were twenty of us started out with Hays in ‘41. By the end of the year only six of the original men were left, Hays, Ransom, Bull Collins, Alligator Peters, Flacco the Lipan Indian and me. I lost my eye at the Pinto Trace fight. The rest were pushing up daisies. We went through men like they was penny cigars."
"So why are you here now?"
"He called in his marker on my life. He saved my ass more times than I can count let alone when I can’t. There was once, when we were fighting Comanch on the Rio Negro, I got surrounded and cut off from the rest. My horse was shot out from beneath me, my guns were empty and I figured I was dead meat. There he came out of nowhere. Both guns a blazing. He swung me up into his saddle and packed me out like a side of beef. Took three arrows while doing it."
"Lord, almighty."
Tad threw his grounds into the fire. "He’s coming back."
Ransom held out his cup as he stepped into the firelight. "Is there anymore of that Java?"
"Yes, sir, Captain. I believe there’s a swig or two left," Tad Cole said filling Ransom’s cup.
Ransom went to his blanket and arranged his saddle for a pillow. He lay down without removing his Colts. "Keep your guns handy from here on out, boys. We’ve got a bunch shadowing us on the far side of the river. Looks to be around twenty riders."
"How you know?" Patch asked.
"The boy. He had to take a crap this morning so he stayed bac
k to tend to his duties. Said that after we were gone from camp, he saw some riders top the crest across the river then pull back out of sight. Ortiz sent Segundo to check out the boy’s story. He didn’t see the riders but sure enough found their trail. Rode back along it for several miles and he’s sure they’re shadowing us."
"Who do you think they are?" Toby Kaufman asked.
"Bandits for sure. Word has got to spread that this outfit is heading for Santa Fe. A wealthy woman like Senora Valverde would attract attention even if she wasn’t in this parade."
"We got a plan?" Patch asked.
"You and those two vaqueros are going to swing out in front and check the trail for ambush first thing in the morning. I’m taking Segundo and ten vaqueros to cross the river and check things out. The rest are going to stay with the caravan. Tad, I’m going to leave you in charge. You three are to stay with those pack mules like they was glue. Ortiz will be in charge but you stay with them mules. If you get hit the caravan will fort up. If the rest of us hear gunfire we’re to come a running."
Patch shook his head.
"Spit it out," Black Jack ordered.
"I don’t like it. Why are you splitting up your force? With me out in front and you with Segundo, we’re outnumbered worse than now."
"These three haven’t had the scouting experience for me to send any of them out and I want you checking the trail. I’m going with Segundo just to make sure those riders aren’t his amigos."
"What if they are?"
"Then we’ve got our hands full, don’t we? They’ll probably shoot both of us."
Patch shook his head again and threw his cup down. "That’s a refreshing thought."
* * * *
Massive river stones polished smooth from centuries of water flow made the Colorado crossing difficult in the pre-dawn hours. The horses struggled to maintain their balance against the swift current. Once across the river the riders had to negotiate the steep south bank and cliffs of the ridge. The men had to dismount and lead their mounts up the rock face. It took an hour to reach the top. The caravan was still encamped in the basin below when they remounted and spurred toward the trail of the shadow riders.