The Western Justice Trilogy

by Gilbert, Morris

  The noise from the other room grew louder, and she knew soon she would be called out to cook for the men. She was used to being around rough men, but always she had had control of them. These men had control of her now, she realized. She was totally at the mercy of Henry Beecher, and it was not beyond him to throw her to his men for their entertainment.

  She forced herself to think again. I’m like that woman taken in adultery. I haven’t done that, but I’ve been a sinner all my life. If I could just hear Jesus say, “Neither do I condemn thee,” I think I’d be the happiest woman in the world, she thought. She remembered the invitation that the preacher had extended. He had said at one point, “A person can find God anywhere. In the middle of the desert with no one there, in a crowded room, on the streets. It doesn’t matter. It’s when you believe that He’s the Son of God and you’re ready to yield your life to Him. That’s when He’ll say, ‘Neither do l condemn thee,’ and you’ll become a part of the family of God.”

  Suddenly the door rattled and opened, and Henry said, “Come on, sweetheart. You can do some cooking for us. We butchered some beef. Reckon you can cook steaks, can’t you?”

  Knowing that she had no choice, Rosa got up and walked into the room. The men were leering at her. She walked over to the stove at once and began cooking their meal, ignoring them as best she could.

  Riordan knew his father was a man accustomed to being able to solve any problem, but as Caleb Riordan watched Henry Beecher and his men disappear into the distance raising huge dust clouds, he must have felt totally helpless. Riordan understood the feeling all to well.

  “We’ve got to do something!” his father cried out desperately. “We’ve got to go back to Fort Smith and get a posse!”

  “That won’t do, Father,” Riordan said. “You heard what Beecher said, and he’s just cruel enough to do it, too. He’d kill Rosa in a minute if he saw a band of marshals coming.”

  Eileen came over. “But you can’t go after them alone. They’re all killers. You’re just one man.”

  Riordan put his arm around his mother and said softly, “Well, it’s not what I’d like to do, but the question is—is it the right thing to do?”

  Mateo Ramirez said, “Go get my daughter. You can do it.” He looked sickly and pale in the fading sunlight.

  Chenoa came to stand beside her husband and said, “That’s asking too much of anyone, Mateo.”

  “No, it’s not,” Riordan said.

  The ranch hands all stood watching the drama. Ringo finally said to Riordan, “They can talk all they want to, but I can tell you right now I know you and you are going after that girl.”

  “I think you’re right, Ringo. I don’t think you can get her, Riordan. No offense, now. You’re fast with a gun, but there’s too many of them, and you can bet they’ll be holed up in a safe place.”

  “I need a little time to think,” Riordan said.

  Chenoa took charge. She introduced herself and her family to the new guests. “Now, everyone come into the house, please. I know you are all tired and hungry. We’ll fix something to eat and then try to figure out what to do.”

  Riordan turned and walked away from the house. He was aimless, for it mattered little where he went, as the situation wouldn’t change. Riordan had never faced such a dilemma as this. He tried to think of a way to get Rosa back, but Henry was too clever. He knows he’s got me, and he knows I’ll come. I don’t think I can do it by myself, though.

  Finally he arrived back at the house. Twilight had come. There were sounds of talking in the house.

  Riordan looked up and saw Hannah coming out to the porch. “What are you going to do?” she asked in a solemn tone.

  “I know I’ve got to go after her, Hannah.”

  “I knew you’d say that, but I want you to know God before you leave.”

  “It may be too late for me.”

  “No, you’ve got a good spirit in you. You told me how you made a profession of faith when you were a boy and that you’d gotten away from it. I think you’ve been in God’s family all this time. You just need to come back.”

  “How do I do that?”

  Hannah moved closer to him and put her hand on his arm. “You remember the story in the Bible of the Prodigal Son? How he went bad, went away from home, and ruined his life? And what did he do?”

  Riordan smiled briefly. “He decided he’d had enough eating with the hogs and wanted to go home and just tell his father what he had done and that he was sorry.”

  “You remember it well. And what happened when he got home? Did his father curse him and tell him to leave?”

  Riordan dropped his head and thought. “No, the Bible says, if I remember correctly, the old man looked up and saw him when he was a long ways off, and he ran to meet him. He threw his arms around him, and the boy tried to tell him how badly he had messed up his life. The old man wouldn’t listen to it, though. He said, ‘Kill the fatted calf. Make merry for this, my son, was lost but now he’s found again.’ Something like that.”

  “That’s very close to word for word,” Hannah said. “But you need to come back to your Father, too. Don’t you see?”

  Riordan had been touched by the sermon much in the same way that Rosa had. He said quietly, “I need God. I know that.”

  “We’ll pray, and you must dedicate yourself to Christ. Will you pray with me?”

  For a moment Riordan seemed to be swayed between two choices, and then he whispered. “I’ve got to.”

  The two bowed their heads, and Hannah prayed fervently a long prayer, an encouraging prayer. Finally her voice fell away.

  Riordan was silent for a moment. Then he said, “Lord God, I’m not worth anything. I haven’t served You, but I want to.” He went on to confess about his life away from God. Finally he said, “Lord, I want to be in Your family, so just like that wayward boy that came to his father, I come to You.” He waited for a long time.

  Hannah didn’t speak. The two of them were totally silent.

  Then something happened. Riordan had been disturbed and confused, his thoughts like the waves of the sea without purpose. But now there seemed to be a calm that was creeping into his heart, and he realized that this was what he was looking for.

  “God’s welcoming you home, isn’t he?”

  Riordan’s throat was thick, and he could barely speak. He felt the tears in his eyes. “I may not have much life left, but whatever I do have, I give it to God.”

  The next morning Riordan ate breakfast with the family. When they were almost through, he spoke to them as a group. “I’ve got to go get her. You all know that. There’s no other choice.”

  Caleb said, “Son, you’re just finding yourself, and I’m just discovering what a good son you are. You can’t throw it all away.”

  Riordan rose to his feet and looked at his father and his brothers. “I wouldn’t be a good son if I let Beecher have Rosa, would I now?”

  No one said a word in answer.

  Riordan finally said, “I prayed last night for the first time, really, in years, since I was a boy. I told God I would do whatever He commands, so now I’m going to do it. I’ll be leaving in a moment, as soon as I get saddled.”

  Caleb said, “I can’t think. I’ve always been able to fix things, but I can’t fix this.”

  “I think God is fixing it,” Eileen said. “Come. We’ll all pray while he is gone and trust God for the outcome.”

  They all went out to the corral, and Riordan began strapping the saddle down on Big Red.

  His mother came to him, and when she looked up at him, he saw that there was pride in her eyes. “I’m proud of you, son. You might not live through this, and that would be a terrible tragedy for all of us, but I know you’re doing it because you love that woman. Is that right?”

  “Maybe I do. I’m not really sure yet. But I’d go even if I didn’t.”

  Caleb had been silent for a while. Finally he said, “You know. I don’t know how this is going to turn out. I always wanted a
son that was strong, and I didn’t think you were, Faye, but now I see that you are stronger than all of us.” His voice took on a bit of sadness and regret as he added in a whisper, “And I wish I’d been a better father to you.”

  Riordan had to hold back tears. He simply hugged his father and said, “I love you, Father.”

  He then shook hands with his brothers and was amazed, as he thought he saw tears in their eyes.

  He turned to his mother last. He looked straight into her eyes, communicating how much he loved and appreciated her. He kissed her on the cheek, stepped into the saddle, and then rode away at a fast pace.

  CHAPTER 21

  Riordan straightened up stiffly and resisted the impulse to turn around. He had been riding steadily, looking down at the ground for signs of Henry Beecher’s passing. When he had the eerie feeling that he was being watched, he tensed up, waiting for the gunshot, to feel the bullet crashing into his spine.

  Suddenly a voice said, “You’ll never make it this way, White Eyes.”

  Twisting around the saddle, Riordan saw Gray Hawk, the relative of the Ramirez family. He was riding a big lanky bay without a saddle but with a twisted rope for a bridle. Riordan had seen him only once, but he was not the kind of man that one forgot. His skin was bronze and drawn tightly around his face, making his high cheekbones more prominent. His eyes were obsidian, as black as night.

  Riordan was surprised to see a little smile twist the corners of his mouth upward. “What are you doing here, Gray Hawk?”

  “Tryin’ to keep you from getting killed.” Gray Hawk kicked his horse and rode up even with Riordan’s gelding. “You don’t think you can find Beecher by yourself, do you?”

  “I’m going to try.”

  “You’re going to get yourself killed, as I said. Now I’m going to help you.”

  Riordan felt the tension leaving his muscles and said, “Well, I guess I can use all the help I can get. I’m no tracker.”

  “I am. Best tracker in my tribe. I can help you find Henry, and we can get the woman. We could even kill Henry if you want.”

  “I don’t really want to kill anybody.”

  “That’s not what I hear about you. You’ve killed a couple of men.”

  “Sometimes a man has to kill to save.”

  Gray Hawk glanced down at the ground and said, “Pretty easy tracking to here, but this ground gets hard farther on past those draws. Takes a good eye to follow their trail. Besides, I think Beecher probably is going to do a lot of dodging around to throw you off for a while.”

  “I don’t think so. I think he wants me to find him.”

  “Maybe you’re right. He’s made it pretty clear that he’s going to kill you.”

  “I guess he’ll have his chance.”

  The two rode along silently, Gray Hawk glancing down at the ground from time to time. They did hit hard ground quickly, and more than once he had to get down, lead his horse, and lean over, scrutinizing the hard earth carefully. “They came this way.” He straightened up and looked off into the distance.

  It was a hazy day, and Gray Hawk did not speak for such a long time that finally Riordan said, “Well, what are you thinking?”

  “I’m thinkin’ I must be crazy helpin’ you commit suicide like this. If they get you, they’ll get me, too.”

  “I’m hoping that God will keep us safe.”

  Gray Hawk turned and stared at Riordan. “You’re a Jesus man then.”

  “Yes, I am. I didn’t always act like it, but that’s what I am, a Jesus man.”

  A broad smile came across Gray Hawk’s face. “Well, from what I hear it’s good to have God on your side. Did you notice the trail turned back there, about a quarter of a mile headed over toward those rocks?”

  “No, I didn’t notice.”

  “You better start noticin’ or you’re going to find yourself dead.”

  “Do you think their hideout is that way?”

  “No, not in a hundred years. He’s just moving around. As a matter of fact, he’s probably got somebody watching us right now. They could knock us right out of the saddle.”

  “Well, it’ll be dark soon. If they don’t kill us before we get there, maybe we can do something.”

  Gray Hawk shook his head. A sober look flitted across his bronze face. “I don’t believe in happy endings.”

  “I do this time,” Riordan said grimly.

  Rosa had cooked several meals, for it had been two days since they had arrived at the house. None of the men had offered to touch her, but that was because Henry had warned them against it. He hadn’t warned them, however, against making crude jokes at her expense. She had been exposed to rough male talk before, but nothing like this. Gritting her teeth, she determined to show no sign that she was afraid.

  “These are good pancakes, Rosa,” Henry said. She had found supplies enough to make pancakes, and they had blackstrap molasses to pour over them. She had been working hard, for they ate like starved wolves. “You’d better sit down and eat some yourself.”

  “I’m not hungry,” she said.

  “Do what I tell you,” Henry said. “I don’t want a sick woman on my hands here.”

  Rosa put the last pancake on a tin plate and picked up a fork and a knife. She sat down as far away as she could get from Henry, who grinned and said, “You won’t always be so standoffish.”

  “Yes, I will.” She cut the pancake up and poured syrup over it, but it might as well have been sawdust. She was exhausted, as she had slept very little. When she wasn’t cooking or trying to clean up some, she felt alternately calm and uneasy as she thought of the sermon she had heard. She had the feeling that she was under some sort of magnifying glass and that God was looking at her to see what she would do.

  Henry finished his pancakes, drained his coffee cup, and said, “Get me some more coffee, Sal.”

  Maglie got up, moved to the stove, and brought the coffee back. It was thick and black, and Henry drank it without any sugar or cream. He was studying Rosa and said, “You know, Riordan is a tough fellow, but I’ve got the feeling that he’s smart as well.”

  “What does that mean?” Rosa asked.

  “Why, it means that he’ll never come for you. He’ll run to Judge Parker and get a big posse. That’s what any man would do with any sense. I get the feeling he’s sweet on you. Anything between you two?”

  “No.” She felt this was the wrong answer, but she could give Henry nothing to build on. “All I want is out of here,” she said.

  “Well, you heard my terms. Riordan comes and we knock him off, then I’ll see you get back to your family. You see, I’m not such a bad fellow.”

  Wahoo Bonham, a short, barrel-shaped outlaw with a round face and a short beard, giggled. He had a strange high-pitched giggle that sounded ridiculous from such a muscular man. “Maybe you ought to marry her, Henry. She’s a better cook than anybody else and keeps the place clean.”

  “That’s just like you, Wahoo,” Mordecai Bailey said. He was as tall and lanky as Wahoo was short and round. He had only one good eye, the other covered by a black patch. “You don’t have to marry her. But, maybe one of us could do the marrying if you do. I thought about becoming a preacher once. That ought to qualify me.”

  “You, a preacher?” Hack Wilson said. “You’re about as far from a preacher as a man can get.”

  “What about you?” Wahoo grinned. “You’d make a pretty good preacher, a nice-looking fellow like you. Got an education. You ought to quit this robbin’ and stealin’ and shootin’ and get you a job as a preacher in some town. They got an easy life.”

  Hack shook his head. “Not for me. I don’t believe in God.”

  “I do.” Everyone suddenly turned to look at Henry. He was staring at his men and said softly, “A man’s a fool not to believe in God.”

  “Why, Henry, you never said nothin’ about having a religion!” Wahoo said in astonishment.

  “No, I never said anything because I don’t have any, but you just go ou
t sometime and look at the stars. No, there’s a star-maker somewhere, and I’m pretty sure it’s the one in the Bible. I’m not scared of dyin’, but I don’t like to think about when I have to meet God and give account.”

  Sal Maglie said, “My grandpa was a preacher. He was a good man. He believed in God all the way through. I can’t forget about him.”

  The talk went around the table.

  Finally Rosa got up and began to collect the dishes. No one ever offered to help wash them, but she didn’t expect it.

  Henry watched her and waited until the men started a card game and then went over to where she was standing by the dishpan washing the sticky plates. “Rosa, I don’t want to see you disappointed. I keep men watching, and as soon as they see that posse, I won’t kill you like I said I would. But you’ll be my woman. There’s plenty of places in this territory to hide. I’ll keep you until I get bored with you, and then I’ll pass you along to one of my men.”

  “He’ll come for me.” Rosa was astonished at the assurance she felt as she said this.

  She saw that Beecher was surprised as well. “You believe that in spite of everything?”

  “I do. I’m not a Christian woman, but I believe in God, and I know Riordan’s family is praying for him… and for me.”

  “Well,”—Henry yawned and stretched—“they’d better be good prayers.” He went over and joined the card game. When she finished the dishes, he got up and said, “Come on. Get on to your room.” He walked with her, and when he unlocked the door, she started to step in, but he grabbed her instead. His strength was frightening. He held her to his chest, his eyes inches away from hers. “You’re a good-looking woman. I never had much of a weakness for women, but I like you. If he don’t come tomorrow, you’ll be mine.”