by Matt Rand
“Who says so?” Nelson demanded.
“Saucedo says so. His messenger just got here this morning.” He pulled an official letter from his pocket. “Sam, here, is the new alcalde. Read it for yourself.”
Nelson’s eyes skimmed the letter, and he could not believe them. He read it through again more slowly. His face was wooden as he handed it back to Payne.
“All right,” he said. “Come in and get them.” The crowd surged forward, and he snapped, “One man.” Fury was naked in his eyes.
“Get them, Sam,” Payne ordered.
Tribble sidled by Nelson, and Nelson followed him inside. Tribble nervously gathered the volumes and carried them to the chest. Two of them fell from his hands, and he picked them up. His breathing was loud in the silent room.
He closed the lid of the chest, lifted it, and walked outside. He let out a long breath as he stopped beside Payne.
Nelson glared at them, and he thought his rage would choke him. “Get out of here!” he yelled.
“You ain’t running things around here any more,” Payne said. “You ain’t—”
“Get,” Nelson said. The fire in his eyes was wild.
Payne’s gaze bent before that wildness. He said in a voice too loud, “We got what we come for, boys. Let’s go.” He looked back over his shoulder and grinned.
Nelson’s hands opened and closed.
Stevens said, “Why, Nelson?”
“Come inside,” Nelson said in a shaking voice.
Leah looked at his face, and the worry in her eyes deepened.
“Saucedo appointed Tribble as alcalde,” Nelson said. “He threw out our election, making every false accusation he could. He said he would back Tribble’s appointment with the force of the Mexican army, if necessary.” He stared into space, his eyes furious. “If I buck him now, it means an open clash. He’s been misinformed and lied to. As soon as he learns the truth, he’ll change. I know it. The Mexican government wants things as peaceful as I do. I can only write him again and wait for his answer.” He sat down at the table, and his face looked ten years older. “Leah, help me with a letter.”
Stevens stared at him, then hobbled out of the room. Nelson had apparently forgotten he was there.
* * * *
Tribble carried the rawhide chest into Sepúlveda’s cabin. A half-dozen men crowded in after Payne and Sepúlveda.
Payne said, “Get out the whisky, José. This calls for a celebration.”
Sepúlveda was sullen as he pulled two bottles from under the eaves. They drank his whisky, and what did he get in return?
Payne slapped the chest with his palm. He was in a boisterous, jubilant mood. “I’m going to really take over this town. With Saucedo behind me, there’s nothing I can’t do.” He looked at the men, his face an expanse of good humor. “It’ll be profitable for all of us. Anyone who sticks to Jim Payne will get his reward.”
Jarmon pushed forward, his eyes mean. His nose was lopsided, making his face uglier than ever. “I want the Mills woman,” he growled.
Payne’s bright eyes studied him. “She was in O’Shaughnessy’s office, wasn’t she? That means she must be his woman. You let her alone for now. O’Shaughnessy’s as mad as a prodded hornet. Something like that happening now could make him completely lose his head. He’s still got a lot of men behind him. Wait until we whittle them down. They’ll come over to me when they see O’Shaughnessy’s losing. You can have her then.”
He looked at Sepúlveda and said, “José, my house is too far from town. I’ve got to be in the center of things. I’m taking over your cabin.”
“But where will I go?” Sepúlveda wailed.
“There’s an empty shed at the edge of town,” Payne said carelessly. “It’ll do for now. Don’t move any of the furniture, José. I like it the way it is.”
Sepúlveda walked angrily outside and leaned against the cabin wall.
Jarmon came out and joined him. His little eyes had a reddish flame. “José, you got a bum deal.”
“Sí,” Sepúlveda’s tone was bitter. “Everything I do for him, and nothing he does for me.”
Jarmon put careful eyes on the Mexican’s face. “Maybe he won’t always be the top dog, José.” He took a deep breath and said, “You help me, and I’ll help you.”
Sepúlveda studied the big, ugly man. A man was so helpless alone. He said with sudden decision, “I will help you.”
Chapter Nine
An ominous calm hung over the town for the next few days. Nelson went about his granting of titles, and Stevens insisted on surveying more land, even though he winced each time he swung on or got off a horse. Nelson expected more false land claims, and when there were none, he worried about it.
He stood in the doorway of his office and looked at Leah. Her face was absorbed as she bent over some paper work, and he could observe her unnoticed. He did not know what he would do without her. She had a trick of smiling at him when he was most deeply concerned about some problem, and the problem either faded away or did not seem nearly so important.
She felt his glance and looked up. He waited for the dimple to appear. He was never disappointed.
She said, “Why are you worrying, Nelson?”
He thought he had hidden his anxiety well this morning, but she knew his moods.
“It’s too quiet, Leah. I expected to hear from them before this. I thought they’d come up with some more of their fake titles, but they haven’t.”
“Payne is the intelligence behind it all, isn’t he?”
“Yes.”
Her shiver was barely perceptible. “He smiles at you, but his eyes remain cold. Like a snake’s.”
He said sharply, “When did you see him?”
“He came to the door yesterday, while you were gone. He said he just wanted to say hello.”
Anger grew in Nelson’s eyes. “I’ll break his damned neck if I catch him hanging around here. Leah, do you keep the gun I gave you handy?”
She opened a drawer, and he caught a glimpse of the gun butt.
The door opened and Brenner entered. “New arrivals in camp, Nelson,” he said.
Nelson’s look was sour. That was not important news. It happened every day. The camp was swelling to the bursting point. Since the night raids, Nelson had not permitted any more families to move onto their land. Men rode out in armed bodies to clear their land, and they were content to seek the security of the camp at nightfall.
Brenner grinned at Nelson’s expression. “These are special arrivals. Old friends of yours. They asked for you.”
“Who are they?”
Brenner shook his head. But he knew, for the knowledge danced in his eyes. “I’d suggest you go see.”
“I’ll be back soon, Leah,” Nelson said from the door.
Brenner would not answer his questions on the way out to camp. “Wait and see” was all he would say.
Nelson stepped into the enclosure, and Brenner’s grin grew broad. “Over there,” he said, pointing.
The woman’s back was toward Nelson, but he instantly recognized her. Stupefied, he stared at the sun shining on the mass of fair hair.
“Melissa,” he said, and the name came out as a hoarse croak.
She turned at his voice, and her eyes went wide. “Nelson!” she half screamed. She flew toward him, her arms extended.
He was filled with curious and mixed emotions. Loneliness had reached her, too. She had realized that being together was the only important thing. The surprise was too great, he thought. That was why he did not feel more elation.
In the flash of her face before she reached him and leaned her head against his chest he saw that she had been crying. Crying hard and for a long time. A few tears could never make her eyes that swollen and red.
His arms went around her, and they were heavy, almost feeling detached from his body. “There, there,” he said awkwardly. “It’s all right.”
“It’s not all right,” she wailed. “The dust and the fear. I thought i
t would never end.”
“You didn’t come alone?” he asked sharply.
She tried to smile through her tears. “Father came with me, Nelson.”
Even then, it was a dangerous trip. What was wrong with him? His heart should have been singing that she had made the journey because of him.
Her tears won, and the trace of a smile faded. “Look at me, Nelson. Look at my dress.”
Once it had been an elaborate silk gown. Now it was travel-stained and torn. A row of ruffles near the hem had come unstitched and was trailing in the dust. The sight of it built a minor irritation in him. Any woman should have known better than to travel in such a dress.
But when he looked at the tear-ravaged face, the old tenderness came back. “You’ll be all right, Melissa. As soon as you’re rested.” He wanted to get her away from these friendly but curious eyes, and he said, “Where’s your father?”
She pointed toward the far end of the corral, and he saw Forrest Goedeke sitting beside a wagon. The wagon was a sad-looking affair. Weather and wear had twisted and warped its boards. One of its front wheels leaned inward. The horses hitched to it stood with drooping heads, and their ribs were a cruel tracery against their gaunt flanks.
He said, “You came in that?”
She nodded. “It was horrible, Nelson.”
He could believe her, but why had they done so? If it was some sort of masquerade, he could see no humor in it.
A stranger approached them and asked, “O’Shaughnessy?”
Nelson nodded. He said, “Go ahead, Melissa. I’ll be with you in a few minutes.”
The man said, “I’m Meredith. Maybe you don’t remember me, but you talked to me in Mississippi.”
“I talked to so many people.”
“Sure,” Meredith said, grinning. He had a nice grin. “Eighteen families came with me. We want some of that land you talked about.” He looked after Melissa, and his eyes were unfriendly. “Been here two days earlier, if it hadn’t been for them. I told them that old wagon wouldn’t make it. I was wrong about that. But the damned breakdowns we had to repair! The girl complained all the way, and her father was too drunk to—” He stopped and his eyes widened. “If I’m stepping on your toes…” he said apologetically.
“No.” Nelson was wooden-faced. He raised his voice and called, “Brenner. He’ll take care of you,” he said to Meredith. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
He followed after Melissa, his eyes dark. She had not said so, but she had certainly left the impression that she and Forrest had traveled alone.
Forrest Goedeke stared at him bleary-eyed. For a moment he did not recognize Nelson; then he said in a thick voice, “Nelson. Nelson, my boy. If you knew the hardships we endured to reach you.” He made an attempt to rise, and Nelson said, “Don’t get up, Forrest.”
An unpleasant picture flashed into his mind. A picture of the former gentlemen who had become residents of the zone. Goedeke looked a great deal like them. His shirt looked as though it had not been changed for weeks, he was unshaven, and the soft hands were grimy.
“Lost everything, Nelson,” he mumbled. He made a helpless gesture with a hand, and his eyes held a bewildered look. “Gone. Almost overnight. I couldn’t have been that wrong. I couldn’t have.”
Melissa burst into fresh crying. “They took the house from over our heads, Nelson. They took everything. Even most of my clothes.”
He felt a stiffness creeping through him. It was reaching his face and hardening it. “And so you came out here,” he said in a flat voice.
A startled flash appeared in her eyes. “I knew you wanted me to, Nelson.” Her eyes slid away from his. “What is the town like?”
“I told you.” The flatness remained in his voice. “Dirty. We live here. Until homes can be built and the land secured.”
“Not here!” Her voice was appalled. “Not in this sty!” She saw the darkening of his eyes and said, “I mean, it won’t always be like this, Nelson. It will be better.”
The last was an appeal, and it did not touch him, but he said, “It will be better, Melissa.”
It was odd how a man could hunger to look upon something, and then when it was before him, his eyes wanted to look elsewhere.
He said, “I’ve got to get back to town, Melissa. If there’s anything you need…” He hoped his tone did not sound as lame to them as it did to him.
Her eyes sharpened as she studied him; then her voice took on a petulant edge. “We need everything, Nelson.” The gesture of her hand was bitter. It included her clothes, her father, and the sorry wagon. “You see everything we have.”
He knew a sudden desire to escape, and he said, “I’ll bring back food, Melissa.”
Goedeke’s eyes had a sly look. “My boy, if you see a bottle of decent whisky, bring that back, too.”
Her hand half raised to stop him, then she halted the gesture. She said, “I’ll be waiting, Nelson.” Her smile was stronger, and some of her old dignity had returned.
Both of those things tugged at his heart. He must remember that this was new and frightening to her. He told himself that over and over as he rode back to town. But no matter how hard he tried to hold onto it, it kept slipping away. He remembered another girl who had lost everything, and he remembered how she had smiled and accepted it.
Leah was standing in the doorway of the office when he passed. He waved in response to her smile but did not stop. Two forces were suddenly pulling at him—powerful forces.
He loaded two grain sacks with food and added a bottle of whisky for Goedeke. The man was going to have to slow down on his drinking. A drunk meant too much trouble when so many people were penned in a small enclosure.
Melissa’s face brightened at sight of the loaded sacks. It fell as Nelson pulled out the various articles.
“It’s not Natchez fare,” he said, an edge to his voice, “but it’s the best Nacogdoches has.”
She said, “It’s fine, Nelson,” and tried to smile.
He saw the quivering of her lower lip, and his sympathy rose in a warm tide. “Stop worrying, Melissa. Everything’s going to be all right.”
Goedeke shuffled around the wagon. He saw the bottle, and his eyes gleamed.
“Go easy on that,” Nelson warned as Goedeke reached for the bottle. “I’ve given orders there’s to be no drunkenness in camp.”
Melissa’s eyes flashed. “He has to do something to forget!”
It was on Nelson’s tongue to say that he could work, but he held the words.
She looked at the food and asked, “Where do I take this to have it cooked, Nelson?”
He stared at her. “You’ll cook it yourself, Melissa.” The words sounded harsher than he had intended, but he made no effort to lighten them.
Tears welled into her eyes again, and he said in haste, “I’ll see you later, Melissa.”
“You’re not going to stay for supper?”
He ignored the hand stretched out to him. “I can’t,” he said over his shoulder. “I’ll be back later.”
He was halfheartedly building a fire when Stevens came in. Stevens rubbed his hands together and said, “I’m starved.”
Nelson put a stick on the fire. “Melissa and Forrest are here. Arrived this afternoon.”
He glanced at the man in time to see the joy in him. “Where are they?” Stevens asked. He could not keep the tremble out of his voice.
Nelson pointed, and Stevens bolted in that direction. Nelson felt a rising guilt. He should be knowing the joy Stevens knew.
It was long after dark when Stevens returned. He looked down at Nelson, who was staring into the fire. “Doesn’t she look wonderful?”
Nelson remembered the torn and soiled finery that was so out of place here. He remembered the eyes swollen by tears of self-pity and the complaining note in her voice. “Yes,” he said flatly.
“I helped her with supper,” Stevens said. He chuckled. “She burned her hand. Not bad,” he added quickly.
Nelson
thought, You probably prepared the entire meal. There was nothing generous about the thought, and he pushed it away.
His lack of enthusiasm reached Stevens, and he said, “Aren’t you glad to see her?”
“Certainly I am,” Nelson snapped.
“I passed Leah on the way here, Nelson. I told her about Melissa.”
Nelson’s eyes filled with anger, and he felt it swell inside his throat. “I’ll do my own telling,” he said in a savage tone. “Stay out of my business, Chauncey.”
Stevens took a step toward Nelson, then stopped. His face was blank, but beneath the blankness Nelson could see the effort Stevens made at control.
“She came a long way.” His voice was hard. “She came a long way to reach you.”
Nelson’s sigh was long and unhappy. “I’m tired, Chauncey. I’m going to turn in.”
He lay awake a long time, staring at the star-studded sky. Stevens could not sleep, either. Nelson heard him toss and roll. Yes, Melissa had come a long way. She had come after everything was swept away in Natchez. She had come in the hope of replacing what she had lost, or at least of finding something better than she had in Natchez.
Bitterness was a sour taste in his mouth.
Chapter Ten
Tribble said, “What are you daydreaming about?” Payne’s eyes looked into space. “Just thinking, Sam.” That Mills woman was really something. He could not get her out of his mind. And Jarmon thought he would get her. Payne’s lips curled with contempt. Turning her over to that slob would be like—like… He searched in his mind for a comparison, then let it slide. He only knew that Jarmon would not get her. No one would for the moment. O’Shaughnessy was too strong. But when O’Shaughnessy was gone or dead…
He jerked his thoughts away from the delicious subject and put them back on business. “How far did we get, Sam?”
Tribble consulted the list in front of him. “We’re going to charge travelers for passing through our streets.”
Payne grinned. “We can’t have them carrying away our mud for nothing.”
Tribble laughed and said, “All the merchants need permits to do business. Saloons are selling Philadelphia whisky, El Paso brandy, New Orleans rum, and Tennessee white mule with no tax on the bottle.”