Bittner, Rosanne (36 page)

Jim
rubbed at his aching head. "Thank God the bullet went clean through him,
so they say. There's no way to even be sure what kind of gun was used. But
whatever gun you
did
use, you get rid of it, you hear?"

"I
already did. I sold it to a trader I ran into on the Santa Fe Trail."

Jim
paced, trying to think. "I don't like it. This could put an end to my deal
with those Comancheros down in Mexico a few weeks ago. Now I'll have to get a
message to them to lay low." He stuck his face close to Casey's.
"You've cost me plenty, Dunlap! You're going to take my message to those
rustlers yourself, fill them in on what's happened up here. If John Hawkins
lives, the man won't rest until he's found whoever shot him! You'd better pray
he never figures out it was you!" He turned away.
"Damn
you!
Damn
you!"

Anger
rose in Casey Dunlap's chest. "I thought I was helping you out, Jim. I've
told you before we need to get rid of Hawkins."

"And
I've told
you
that those are
my
decisions to make, not yours!
Hawkins is a married man now, with a kid on the way! He never had anybody's
sympathy before, but he's got it now! All the damn women are fixing to get some
food together and take it over to that damn Tess Hawkins." He shook his
head. "That Damn woman and her pa have been a headache to me ever since
Colonel Bass gave them that land. He was too damn generous. He knew what I'd
lost in Virginia, knew I wanted more land here. Hell, I'd have
paid
him
for it, but he insisted on giving more to other Confederates. He gave Henry
McDowell one of the best pieces of grazing land around here. And they used it
to
farm!
Now that damn John Hawkins will be my goddamn neighbor! What in
hell possessed that woman to marry a man like that!"

Casey
shrugged. "Maybe he got a piece of her after he rescued her, took advantage
while she was all messed up in the head. Maybe she
had
to marry him.
They've only been married a couple of months, and some say her waist is already
looking thicker. That whore Maybelle at the Sagebrush Saloon says a woman
almost never starts showing that quick. Maybe that's because she was already
carrying when she married Hawkins."

Jim
took a cigar from a box on his desk. "I never thought of that."

"Why
else would she marry the man? Maybe the kid doesn't even belong to Hawkins.
Maybe she was raped by those Comancheros after all. If so, she'd know that baby
would have to look Indian. Who else could she marry to make it look legal
besides somebody that looked Indian himself?"

Jim
thought about the comment as he lit his cigar. He puffed on it for a moment, then
turned to Casey. "You know, for somebody who can be so stupid, you can
think pretty smart sometimes. Whether it's true of not, that kind of gossip
could be just the thing to drive Mr. and Mrs. John Hawkins right out of El
Paso, in which case they would want to sell that land. If that woman is
carrying some Comanchero's bastard, she won't want the kid to be around here
where everybody knows. And I'm married to just the woman who can make sure the
rumors fly. When she gets back from town I'll suggest to Harriet the very thing
you just told me. It does make sense, doesn't it?"

Casey
nodded and grinned. "Sure it does." He walked to a chair and picked
up his hat. "You want me to light out for a while, maybe go to
Mexico?"

"No.
That will just make things look more suspicious. You stay right here. If they
come around asking questions, I'll testify you were with me during the time of
the shooting. You let me do all the talking, understand? You've done enough
damage. Get the men ready to go round up strays, see if you can determine how
many pregnant cows we have. We've left the bulls free to roam long enough. The
demand for beef gets higher every year since the war. The damn Yankees might
have defeated us in that war, but I'll get it out of their hide in beef prices.
If I have to steal more cattle to build my herds, I'll do it. Neither John
Hawkins nor anybody else is going to stop me from building this place into
something even bigger than what I lost back in Virginia."

He
kept pacing, thinking, and Casey waited nervously.

"We
have to stay on the up and up for the winter," he continued. "And
come spring we have to avoid scum like the Comancheros." He faced Dunlap.
"Are there stolen cattle still being held in that canyon near the Rio
Grande?"

Casey
nodded. "The man watching them can be trusted. They probably have all the
brands changed by now."

Caldwell
paced again. "All right. What I'll do is get a letter to Don Emeliano
Cordera. The last person the Rangers would think would buy stolen cattle from
one of the wealthiest ranchers in Texas is one of the wealthiest ranchers in
Mexico. The Rangers go across the border sometimes, but they'd never go three
hundred miles inland and invade the ranch of a powerful man like Cordera, let
alone risk pissing off that damn dictator running Mexico now." He nodded
to himself. "Yes, Cordera is our answer. He already agreed to buy some of
my cattle. Maybe he'll buy them all, some of my own
and
the stolen
cattle. He's done it before. That's our only chance of getting rid of the
stolen beef without getting caught. Selling them to the Comancheros is too
dangerous right now. In the meantime, maybe I can find a way to get rid of
Hawkins by spring. I'll either force him out because of gossip, or lure him
away somehow, to someplace far away where he can be killed without any fingers
pointing at my ranch. You'd better be glad the wife and I have such a good
reputation in this town."

Casey
put on his hat. "I'll see to the bulls and the strays. Sorry I messed
things up, but I'm sorrier John Hawkins didn't die."

Jim
watched the smoke curl up from his cigar. "So am I, Casey, so am I. You
just act the model citizen for a while. Go talk to your men down by the Rio
Grande. Tell them to be mighty careful rustling more strays over the winter and
to keep all of them down in that canyon—maybe move them on into Mexico. I'll
get a letter to Cordera, have his men meet you at Fire Canyon down on the
Conchos in April. We'll sell the stolen cattle and then lay low for a year or
so. No Texas Ranger could ever find out about Fire Canyon. It's too far south
into Mexico."

Casey
nodded, grinning. "We'll manage it, boss. Ain't no Rangers gonna' go that
deep into Mexico."

The
man picked up his hat and left, and Jim listened to the jingle of the spurs he
wore around his snakeskin boots. "Damn fool," he muttered. If the man
didn't already know too much, he'd fire him, but he couldn't do that now, at
least not until he got rid of the cattle already collected down by the Rio
Grande. Cordera was his answer. A sale clear down by Camargo in Mexico would
never be discovered by Texas Rangers.

Tess
opened the door to Louise Jeffers and Rachael Patterson, who each stood there
holding food.

"I
baked an apple pie for you, dear," Louise told her. "And Rachael has
brought some homemade pea soup with ham. It's fresh hot, so you can just keep
it warm on your stove. It should be good for your husband, put some meat back
on him. We hear he's doing much better."

Tess
could not help noticing both women were glancing at her waist, as though trying
to figure out how big she was getting. "My goodness! I didn't expect
this," she said, stepping aside. "It really isn't necessary."
She ran a hand through her hair as they came through the door, realizing the
neat bun she'd worn it in earlier was coming apart. "I'm afraid I'm a bit
of a mess. After helping my husband clean up and eat earlier I decided to
finish some sewing before I did anything with myself. I'm backed up because of
caring for John."

"Oh,
we understand," Louise told her. "There are cookies and a cake and
some smoked venison in the buggy. We still have to bring them in. It's food
from some of the other women."

"This
really isn't necessary," Tess answered, leading them through the small
parlor into the kitchen.

"Oh,
of course it's necessary." Rachael carted the pot of soup to the stove.
"And believe me, getting this here without it spilling was no easy
task." She turned and faced Tess, looking neat and lovely in a flowered
dress. "There are so few of us here, Tess—white women from the South and
East. We have to stick together, you know." Again she studied Tess's
waistline. "I'll go get the rest of the food." She walked out, and
Louise stood at the table, looking a little nervous. She also glanced at Tess's
waist again.

Tess
pulled out a chair. "Sit down, Louise. I have some coffee that is still
fresh enough to be drinkable. Would you like some?"

"No,
thank you, dear. We shouldn't stay long. We might disturb your husband. How is
he doing?"

Tess
sat down. "Well, things were very bad the first five or six days. He came
so close to death. Since then he's improved every day. It's been over three
weeks now. He even got up and walked some today."

Louise
smiled, but Tess sensed there was little sincerity to it. "Well, that's
good," the woman told her.

Rachael
returned with a plate of cookies and set them on the table. "Harriet had
Maria bake these for you. I'll go and get the cake." She glanced at Louise
before leaving again, and Tess felt a need to defend herself rising in her
soul.

"Why
don't you tell me the real reason you came, Louise?"

Louise
finally pulled out a chair and sat down, fidgeting with her handbag as she
spoke. "Well, dear, we just—we want you to know we understand."

Tess
frowned. "Understand what?"

"Well,
it seems... Harriet had a talk with Maria. And Maria told her... something...
about you."

Tess
closed her eyes. "I made Maria promise—"

"You
know how Harriet can be. Somehow she got the idea you were... with child...
before you married John Hawkins. She questioned Maria to see if the woman knew
anything, since you two worked together when you were there. Maria said—"

"I
know what she said. I'm sorry Harriet pressured her that way." She stood
up. She had promised John she would defend this baby. She faced Louise boldly
as she spoke. "All right. I was already with child when I married John. I
married him because... because it's
his
child."

Louise's
mouth dropped open. "What! We thought—"

"That
I had been violated by the Comancheros. I have told you all along that I was
not."

Rachael
came back into the kitchen, carrying a cake. She glanced at Louise. "It's
his," Louise told her.

Tess
studied them both, almost wanted to laugh at the look on Rachael's innocent
face. Her eyes widened, and she moved to stand beside Louise. Tess faced both
of them squarely. "I hate to malign my dead husband's memory, but the
truth is, Abel crawled under the bed to hide the day of the attack. He left me
alone to fight the Comancheros. After I was taken off, I was so beaten and
terrorized that to be rescued was the most wonderful thing I could imagine. You
weren't there. You didn't see John Hawkins take on that whole gang of
Comancheros himself. You didn't see his heroism, his bravery. He's more man
than any I can think of. And on our way back something... happened... between
us."

It
wasn't
all
a lie, was it? Something
had
happened between them.

"Who
are you or Harriet—who is anyone?—to say what you would do in the same
situation? None of us knows until the time comes. You can't say, if you haven't
walked in my shoes. Afterward we both feared we had made a mistake. Mr. Hawkins
is himself a very lonely man. We were going to give it some time, but then I
realized I was... with child... John's child. I know it's his because..."
She turned away. "I just know, that's all. John loves me, and since this
shooting I realize I love him. People in this town are just going to have to
accept that. I am not ashamed of it. We are husband and wife now, and that is
that. I have my land here, and I intend to stay in El Paso. John has been in
this area for years, I've come to call it home, so home it is."

Silence
hung in the room for several quiet seconds, as Rachael took a chair. "My
goodness," she murmured.

Tess
felt better. At least she had seemed to convince them once and for all that her
baby was John's, and she was beginning to believe it more herself. "If we
are going to be relegated to living in west Texas, ladies, we must learn to
adapt, to accept the fact that there will always be Indians and Mexicans to
deal with and that they have just as much right here as anyone. I have learned
through John that they are no different from us in their loves and needs. We
cannot abide intolerance. Part of civilizing Texas is teaching that those who
were here first, and who will always be here, must be accepted and allowed to
cohabit with us. John is a good man and would defend me to his dying breath.
There are other good people in this town, and if I am going to lose all of you
as my friends over this, then I have plenty of friends among the Mexican women
to whom I can turn. Some of them have already been asking me to sew for them,
and many have already brought food. If you think you are going to shame me out
of El Paso, think again, and with John Hawkins for a father, I dare anyone to
insult or bring any kind of hurt to our child because of his Indian blood. Is
that understood?"