Cotton’s Inferno (17 page)

Chapter 32

J
ohnny and Rachael arrived in Socorro late in the day. They were dirty, tired, and hungry. As Johnny helped Rachael off the horse, she groaned and stretched. They were both exhausted from being in the saddle for such a long time. She looked around for a place to get some food while he tried to locate the livery. They hadn't eaten much more than a rabbit he'd shot and some biscuits they'd wrapped in a checkered napkin back in Las Cruces. Knowing they were broke, the sheriff in Las Cruces had slipped Johnny a couple dollars for helping keep the jail swept and the trash taken to the dump. Johnny slipped the bills into his pocket and promptly forgot about having any money. He was so used to being completely broke, having even a few dollars seemed foreign.

“There,” Rachael said, pointing down the street to a small adobe building. “That looks like it might be a restaurant. Maybe there's somebody still there. I'll go have a look while you get the horse some grain and put her up for the night.”

Johnny was too tired to say anything. It was all he could do to keep from collapsing in the street, curling up, and going to sleep right there. He just nodded and started leading the mare down the street in search of a corral.

When Rachael got to the little restaurant, which turned out to be not much more than a hole-in-the wall, she peeked in the open door. There were no customers. The only person she saw was a short, rotund Mexican lady clearing the four small tables in readiness for the next meal. She figured that would be breakfast. The lady broke into a cheery smile when she saw the young girl and motioned her inside.

“Good evening, señorita. Would you like some tortillas and beans? Plenty left. Come, you will enjoy,” the lady said.

Rachael looked around to find Johnny, but he was nowhere to be seen. She took one step inside. She was hesitant since she had no more than fifteen cents left. She figured that wouldn't go far, certainly not far enough for two. If Johnny couldn't eat, she wouldn't either. The smells coming from inside instantly reminded her of how little she'd had to eat in the last few days, and the journey had been difficult at times. She sighed and started to leave, giving the lady a weak smile.

“No, do not leave, señorita. I can see you are hungry. There is more than I have sold today and I don't want to throw it out. You probably have no money, but that is
bien
.
Por favor
, come and sit with me. I don't often get another
mujer
to talk to.”

“I, uh, I have a friend. We are traveling together. He went to find a corral. We are riding together on one horse and have come a very long way. But I couldn't eat without him sharing. Thank you anyway, ma'am. You are very kind.”

“Feed one, feed two, what difference is one more mouth? Bring him and I'll feed you both.
Prisa
, I prepare some
habas
for you.”

Rachael's eyes lit up at the woman's words. To find food and be able to share with Johnny was a thrilling stroke of luck, especially in a place where she knew no one. She stepped outside, glancing around. She'd about given up when she spied him coming from between two dark buildings. She called out to him.

“Johnny, hurry. There is food here.”

Just the word “food” quickened his steps. When he got to the little restaurant, he whispered, “Rachael, you know we don't have any money.” He'd completely forgotten what was in his pocket.

“Don't worry. I do have fifteen cents, but a very kind lady has offered to feed us for free. Come inside, quickly.”

He put his arm around her waist and they walked in together. When the restaurant owner saw him, she gave him the same warm smile she'd given Rachael. They went over to a table that had not yet been cleaned, so as not to disturb the lady's hard work at setting up for the morning meal.

“No, no, sit here,
mis
amigos
. I have set out nice silverware and plates just for you, my
huespedes especiales
.” The lady waved them to a different table, nearer the kitchen. The two of them looked at each other as if they'd never experienced such kindness before and no one had ever considered them special. If they'd thought about it, they'd have realized that wasn't really the case, for in every instance where they'd found themselves in need, someone had stepped up to lend a hand, asking nothing in return. When the lady placed a bowl of beans and a plate of steaming tortillas in front of them, it was all Johnny could do to keep from grabbing a handful of the refried beans and stuffing it in his mouth, foregoing the use of any utensils. He didn't, however, but instead, gathering all the control he could muster, he sat with hands folded in his lap like an obedient son awaiting a mother's signal that it was okay to dig in. Rachael found his tentativeness amusing and covered her mouth to keep from giggling.

Before joining them, the lady went to the door and shut it. She threw a colorful shawl over her shoulders and then sat at the table with them. “The nights are becoming cooler. I fear a hard winter.”

“We have seen signs of that very thing all the way from Texas,” Johnny said. He had yet to touch anything on the table.

The lady leaned forward on her elbows and, with narrowed eyes, said, “Well, young man, do you eat or must I treat the pigs to a
fiesta
?”

“Oh, uh, yes, ma'am,” he said, and plunging his spoon into the beans, he dug in. The look on his face said just how enjoyable it was. As they both ate, the lady looked away as if she were trying to find the answer to some dark secret. Johnny was too busy shoveling food into his mouth to notice, but Rachael was alert to the lady's drifting off.

“Ma'am, is there something wrong?”

“Oh, no, nothing
niño.
It will pass as all things evil do.”

“Evil? What kind of evil happened?”

“
Sí
, I forget you just arrive. I should not trouble you with such news. You eat and forget the ramblings of an old woman.”

That got Johnny's attention. “Well, if it's something we can do to help, we'd be obliged to try. You sure been kindly to us, and we'd like to return the favor.”

“You can do nothing. It is done with. Even the sheriff says so, a man who has never been disposed to trouble himself over a couple of poor
Mexicanos
.”

“Can you tell us about it?” Johnny asked, between bites.

“It happened to my brother, José. He was knocked down two weeks back.”

“Is he, uh, okay, though?” Rachael asked, timidly. She'd put her spoon down and was now more interested in the lady's story than in filling her stomach.

“He fell and hit his head on the doorframe. He died from his wound, I'm afraid. We lay him to rest in the cemetery outside of town, even though they do not put our kind with the whites. But we got a plot in the back and it's not so bad.” She dabbed at her eyes with a napkin.

“Who hit him and why?” Johnny asked, now intensely interested.

“He did not get out of a man's way when told to, and the man struck him, right in front of the restaurant. The man was very angry.”

“That's what he got shot for? Not movin' fast enough? What kind of an animal would do such a dastardly thing?”

“Don't know his name. Somebody said it, but I don't remember it. He was tall, thin. Wore a dark duster, a pair of tall boots, and a big red bandana, like cowboys wear. I swear his eyes were black as coal. There was a devil inside that man.”

Johnny's rage, excitement, and bloodlust all converged on him at the same time. He felt full to bursting with an urge to yell, “Hurrah!”
We're finally on the right trail.
His expression took on the look of a madman.

Carp Varner! I'm comin' for you. And don't think for a minute I won't catch you and blow you straight to hell, myself.

“Did the sheriff arrest the man?” Rachael asked, hoping the lady wasn't frightened by Johnny's suddenly dark countenance.

“Oh, no.
Thees
killer just ride away free as a bird. Didn't even have no posse sent after him.” The lady hung her head and sobbed.

“Anyone see which direction he went?” Johnny asked.

“Took the west road is all I know.” The lady continued dabbing at her tears.

Rachael put her hand on the lady's arm.

“I'm so sorry for your loss, ma'am. But I figure he'll get his comeuppance before long.”

“You can just about bet on it, “Johnny said through gritted teeth.

After they thanked her for her kindness, the lady tearfully watched after them as they left to find a place to bed down for the night. They headed for the livery stable where Johnny had boarded the horse. Straw would make for a pretty decent bed for the two of them, as well.

Chapter 33

C
otton muttered to himself as he stopped leafing through some new wanted dodgers. He didn't like what he saw. Three brothers wanted for a bank robbery three months ago in Texas. It hadn't happened in New Mexico Territory, but they had shot a teller, and that might just make it his business, especially if the three men sitting on the bench in front of the hotel were those very same wanted men. No picture accompanied the description, but it fit them pretty well. It said they were the Callahan Brothers, from Amarillo. What were they doing here? Planning to rob another bank, maybe? He needed to make sure they were who he figured them to be without making a fuss that could end in someone getting shot. As soon as Jack got back from checking to make sure doors had been locked along the two streets comprising the town, Cotton figured to lay out a plan to get one of them to give up a name.

Jack came through the door looking beat and plopped into the chair across the sheriff's desk. He stared at two piles of wanted papers, one wadded into little balls and the other piled neatly.

“What you got there? Why the wadded up dodgers?”

“They're either in prison or dead.”

“We kill any of 'em?”

“A couple. Sure takes a while to get the posters out to all the sheriffs and marshals. It
would
help if they got here
before
we were forced to gun 'em down.”

“Who's that one in your hand for? Anyone we know?” Jack got up and took a cup from atop a file cabinet. He poured a cup of coffee, then returned to his chair.

“Maybe. Here, take a look. You recognize these three?”

“Callahan Brothers, hmm, don't sound familiar but . . . wait! There're three hombres sittin' in front of the mercantile right now. Kinda fit the description. Been here a day or so. You think that's them on the poster?”

“Don't know. Need to find out. I saw them when they rode in, but they seem to be stayin' to themselves. Before we march over there and arrest some innocent cowboys on a pretty thin description, we'd better make sure.”

“How do you figure to do that?”

“Have they seen you?”

“I 'spect.”

“Then I can't have you take off your badge and go down there to ask who they are.”

“Maybe not. But I could ask Arlo to keep his ear out for any loose conversation. He gets a lot of folks in the saloon that might hear somethin' useful.”

“That's a good idea. Do it. Oh, has Melody cooled off enough to talk to me in a reasonable fashion yet?”

“Not likely. Maybe I can make another run at her. Gotta be careful how I go 'bout it or I'll be back here sleepin' in a jail cell again.”

“You can always throw your bedroll on the floor at my house if you need to. Just let me know before you walk in.”

“'Fraid I'll catch you, uh, entertainin'?” Jack said with a knowing grin.

“You never can tell, Jack. Now, go tell Arlo what we want him to do.”

* * *

Jack looked around the near empty saloon. It was the middle of the day in the middle of the week. Customers tended to come in the evenings or on the weekend. He walked casually over to the barkeep and leaned on the bar.

“What'll it be, Jack?”

“Brandy, and I have a job for you.”

“As long as it don't involve using that shotgun on someone again, I'll do it.”

“Nope. No shotgun this time. I want you to ask around to see if anybody recognizes three men sittin' either on the hotel porch or in front of the mercantile. Came in one, maybe two days ago. We may have some paper on them, but we have to make certain we got the right ones,” Jack said, leaning over the bar and keeping his voice low.

“I can do that, Jack. I'll let you know as soon as I get something.” Arlo turned to get a bottle of brandy and poured a shot glass full. Jack thanked him and went upstairs. He could tell Melody was in her room because he heard her humming some song off-key. He opened the door and went in.

“Hi, sweety, where've you been?” she asked.

“My job. You remember what I do, don't you?”

“Oh, that's right, you fetch and do errands for the sheriff, uh, Bark or Beak, or . . . now what was his name?”

“Stop it, Melody. I'm not here to fight. I'm tired and hungry. I thought we could get a bite to eat.”

“Ah, that would be very nice. Let me put something on I can be seen in and we'll go to the hotel,” she said, moving away from her mirror to an armoire, wherein hung dozens of fancy dresses.

He helped her into a long blue dress with satin bows and a lacy neck and cuffs. She slipped into shoes with silver eyelets and highly polished pointy toes. As they left the room and started down the staircase, he took her arm and pulled her near.

“Do you know anything about three men who came to town a day or so ago? They seem to be spending a lot of time watching the bank,” he whispered. She stared at him for a second.

“No. Should I?”

“Not really, but you usually make an acquaintance with everyone who comes to town.”

“Sorry, not this time. Haven't noticed them around the saloon. Just drifters, I'd guess. Why do you give a damn?”

“They kinda fit the description on a wanted dodger that Cotton got this mornin'.”

“Oh? What might they be wanted for?”

“Bank robbery. A killin', too, I think.”

“This town sure does seem to attract the worst type of people. Lordy me, what's this old world coming to?”

“I am also curious about that thing Cotton asked you about. Remember? He wanted to know who all you told about givin' Pick Wheeler a lot of money?”

“You asking because you want to know, or did Cotton put you up to it?”

“Nope, he didn't. It's still his idea. But I want you to take another look at it without worryin' about whose idea it was. It's good solid reasonin'. Whoever you might have told could play an important part in my, uh, investigation.”

“All right, if it's for
your
ears only. First, of course Darnell Givins knew, since he's the one handed all that cash over to that old reprobate. And there was some fellow sitting on the bench outside the bank when we came out. I s'pose he could have overheard our conversation, but I was so excited I didn't really take notice of him. I mighta said something then that could have been important. Oh, and I reckon I was a little over-ecstatic about owning a silver mine, so I think I let something slip to the ladies at the dress shop. And the waiter at the hotel restaurant. And a few cowboys that suggested I go upstairs with them for some touch and tickle, but I shut them down telling them I now owned a silver mine and didn't need their measly dollars,” she said, drifting off in thought. “I think that's all. Maybe. I'm not sure. Things were happening pretty fast and . . .”

“And you got caught up in the excitement.”

“Uh-huh. Did I blow my chances for getting my money back?”

“I'll let you know. First, I need to follow up on those people you talked to and see who they talked to. You see, something like this can spread like a wildfire. Somewhere in that string of folks might be whoever shot Pick and stole your money. See, simple.”

“I, uh, never thought about it that way. I figured Cotton was just trying to make me look like a fool.”

“Shall I tell him you're sorry?”

“Must I go that far?” she said with a sheepish grin.