Taming of Jessi Rose (30 page)

“I'll bet the sheriff was really mad then,” Joth declared.

“He sure was.”

“What happened next?” Joth asked.

“Well, like Quanah Parker and the Comanche, he declared war.”

“Over a drunk servant?” Jessi asked.

“No, the servant was just one more incident in a series that had the Mexicans as outraged as the Indians over the way they were being treated by the Anglos.”

Gillie looked at Joth and said, “Just like Reed Darcy is trying to steal your land, the Anglos were stealing the land from the Mexicans. They didn't care about the Spanish grants that proved the Mexicans owned the land; they wanted all the land on the northern side of the Rio Grande, so they set out to get it. Granted, some Anglos purchased the land legally, but others didn't, and that's why Cheno declared war.”

Gillie then told of how Cheno rode into Brownsville in September of 1859 and terrorized the town. “The residents of Brownsville were all sleeping late because they'd all been to a party in Matamoros the night before, so when Cheno rode in with about a hundred men, there was chaos. They sacked stores, turned prisoners out of jail, and shot five men who were either brave enough or loco enough to try and defend the town.”

Cortinas and his men held the town for some time while the frightened citizens stayed locked in their homes. Only after receiving pleas from the Mexican authorities did the Mexican Robin Hood and his men leave Brownsville. He then rode back to his Santa Rita ranch and issued a proclamation declaring war on those persecuting the Mexican landholders. As a result, many Mexicans came to Santa Rita to aid Cortinas in his fight to defend their legal rights.

“Meanwhile,” Gillie said, continuing, “the Anglos in
Brownsville organized a local militia called the Brownsville Tigers and decided they were going to march on Cheno and his men over in Santa Rita.”

“And?” Jessi asked.

“And they got their butts whipped. It took them a week to march the seven miles upriver in their uniforms, but they may as well have stayed home. Cheno and his men were hiding in the chaparral and as soon as the Mexicans opened fire, the Brownsville Tigers took off running so fast they left their cannon behind.”

Joth laughed.

“That had to be the quickest retreat on record,” Jessi said grinning.

“I don't know, but if it isn't it has to be fairly close.”

“What happened next?”

“They sent in the Texas Rangers and got the same result. The Rangers did manage to escape with their cannon, though, and after that, Cheno sent out another proclamation. This time he called on the Mexicans in the Valley to join him in the fight. He said he only wanted to protect Mexican land and rights.”

“Did the authorities believe him?” Jessi asked.

“Of course not; they called him a bandit and a horse thief and in December sent in the Army.”

“Did they have to retreat too?” Joth wanted to know.

“No. Cheno and his men were the ones in retreat that day, but they made it safely into Mexico.”

Though the Texas Rangers and the Army did their best to capture him, Cortinas, now based in Mexico, became even more of a thorn in the side of the Texas authorities. He burned the ranches of non-Latins, attacked Rio Grande steamboats, raided border towns, and then slipped away time and time again, frustrating the Rangers and the Army no end. Cortinas's campaign soon drew the attention of the government in Washington and Lt. Col. Robert E. Lee was sent to investigate. His re
ports to the War Department, Texas officials, and the Mexican government brought about a cooperative agreement that settled the issues Cortinas had championed.

“What happened to him after that?”

“He stayed in Mexico and became a general in the Mexican army. Later he was the governor of the Mexican state of Tamaulipas.”

Joth went over to Gillie and gave her a hug. “Thanks, Gillie. I'm betting I'll have the best essay in Mr. Trent's class.”

“I'm betting too,” she replied.

Jessi spent a few more moments looking through the sketches.

“Did you see anything that caught your eye?” Gillie asked.

“Not really.”

“Then let me pick out something. I'll just need to measure you.”

Jessi didn't argue. Gillie had been making clothes for Jessi most of her life and she trusted her judgment, so while Joth took out his paper and pen and started in on his assignment, Gillie and Jessi went to the back room to do the measurements.

“Have you and Griffin set a date?” Gillie asked, as she moved around Jessi's body with her tapes.

Heeding Gillie's silent command, Jessi raised her arms so the tape could measure her bosom. “No, we want to get Darcy out of the way first.

“I'm real glad you decided to say yes, Jessi. He'll be a good partner for you.”

Jessi smiled. “I think so too.”

“But speaking of Darcy, any more news on the Grimes woman?”

“Not so far. Griffin's friend Preacher went to Austin to talk to the sheriff there, but I saw Roscoe the other
day and he says he may be willing to testify about Dex's death. He said Reed did order the killing.”

“That's promising. Now, if he can only be convinced to stop his drinking.”

“He looked awful,” Jessi confessed.

“Smells worse.”

“Gillie,” Jessi said warningly.

“I know, and I'm sorry, but I've never had much patience with Roscoe. I just wish he would stand up to Reed one time. That's all it will take.”

“Easier said than done sometimes.”

“I know. I know.”

Jessi paused a moment while she thought back. “When mama died and all of the gossip started about her and Reed, Ros would come over and ride with me. We never talked about anything, just rode. It made me feel like someone in the world cared. I'll never forget that, or the trees we climbed, or the lizards we were always hunting. He was a good friend, but that was a long time ago.”

“Yes, it was.”

Silence reigned a moment as they both mused on the past, then Gillie asked, “And what is this about you brawling with Minerva?”

Jessi hoped she wasn't in line for a scolding. “It wasn't a brawl, it was more like a punch.”

“Was it a good one?”

“Broke one of her teeth.”

“Good for you!” Gillie clapped her hands. Jessi laughed.

When Gillie was done, Jessi had Joth gather up his things and they left the shop for the journey back to the ranch.

That evening, as Jessi and Griffin were drying the last of the supper dishes and putting them in the sideboard
she asked, “Where do you suppose Preacher's gotten to, Griffin? He's been gone almost a week now.”

“Chasing leads no doubt. He'll be back, he always is.”

The dishes were now done and they went out to the porch with the hopes of finding a cool breeze. The ever present daily heat had not abated, nor had there been any rain. The nights now were almost as unbearable as the days.

As they sat, Jessi still had the Preacher on her mind. She was worried about him and missed his blessings at the supper table. “How'd you meet the Preacher?”

“Tracking the man who killed his wife.”

Jessi's heart turned over. “Really?”

“Yep, an outlaw named Bivens.”

“Was he someone Preacher had turned in for a bounty?”

“No, he and Preacher were in the same gang.”

She found that answer surprising. “The Preacher was an outlaw?”

“Back then he was, yes. Robbed banks, hired out his gun—you name it. Even robbed trains for a while.”

Jessi shook her head. “I would never have believed it.”

“Everybody has a past.”

His serious manner made her look into his eyes and then gave rise to thoughts about her own past. What would he say when it was revealed? “So, why did Bivens kill her?”

“Because he took a shine to her and couldn't have her. Her name was Tilda and she was a spinster seamstress when she and the Preacher first met. In fact, she was one of the customers in a bank that the gang robbed, and to hear Preacher tell it, it was love at first sight. He came back to the town a few weeks later and tried to court her but she wouldn't have him. She told him he'd
have to walk on the right side of the law.”

“So he did?”

“Yep. Quit the life. Started going to church and everything. A year later some of the old gang members came back to town. Bivens knew she was Preacher's wife, but he didn't care. One night while Preacher was in town, Bivens goes out to the house, forces himself on her…cut her throat. She bled to death.”

Jessi was appalled. “How did he know it was Bivens?”

“He got a letter from one of his former outlaw friends saying a drunken Bivens had bragged about the deed in a saloon up in Laramie.”

Jessi shook her head sadly. Who knew Preacher carried such tragic memories inside?

“Out of respect for his dead wife, he knew he couldn't just go and hunt Bivens down and kill him like he wanted, so he became a bounty hunter. That way he could do it within the law.”

“Did he ever find him?”

Griff nodded. “In Nevada, right after he and I met. He'd tracked him for almost a year.”

“How'd you meet him?”

“I was cooking a rabbit in the middle of the night in upstate Nevada and he walked up to the fire. One minute I was by myself and the next minute he was standing there. Scared me so bad, I almost shot him.”

An amused Jessi linked her arm with his and rested her head against his shoulder. “Did he tell you his story?”

“He did. It was easy to see he was still grieving for her, and those green eyes had a glow in them that made me glad he wasn't hunting me. He said he was headed downstate and since I was going that way too, we rode together. We found Bivens in a whorehouse outside of Reno and Preacher marched him out of there at gun
point. Didn't even let him put on his clothes. It was the last time anyone saw him alive.”

“Did he kill him?”

Griffin shrugged. “Can't really say for sure, but Bivens' buddies found him on the trail outside of town. He'd been castrated. He bled to death, just like Preacher's wife.”

“I hope he's found peace since then.”

“He rarely speaks about her now, but I guess he loved her very much.”

Jessi now had a new understanding of Griffin's solemn green-eyed friend. She could only hope that one day a new love would enter his life to heal the hole in his heart.

 

The next night an unknown arsonist set fire to the Darcy Hotel and burned it to the ground. Doyle rode out to the Clayton spread to relate the news the following morning.

“Was anyone hurt?” Jessi asked, as she stood with him and the others on the front porch.

“No, everybody got out safely, but folks in town are saying you ordered it done, Jessi.”

“I would've liked to, but I had nothing to do with it.”

Jessi looked over at the Twins.

They shook their heads. “We had nothing to do with it either. Wish we'd thought of it, though.” Shafts spoke with a light in his dark eyes. “Darcy's living on the street, I hope.”

“Naw, he's moved in with Roscoe for now.”

Roscoe and Minerva lived in a large house not too far from Gillie. Jessi was fairly certain Ros had not been given a choice.

“Do they have any idea who might've set the fire?” Griffin asked.

“Not a clue,” Doyle replied, “and since there's no sheriff now that Cap's gone, Reed doesn't have anyone to look into the matter. I hear he's fit to be tied.”

It pleased Jessi to know that Reed's world was tumbling down. First, he'd lost his financial hold on Vale, and now his hotel had been reduced to rubble. She thought it couldn't've happened to a better man.

Griffin asked, “Is there going to be an election for a new sheriff?”

“Yep, early next week. Supposedly your friend Percy West is Reed's hand-picked choice this time and will probably win since no one is loco enough to run against him.”

“Percy as a sheriff?” Jessi asked incredulously.

“What do you have to do to be a candidate?” Griff wanted to know.

“Just go to the bank and place your name on the ballot, as far as I know.”

“I wonder if you can be a marshal and a sheriff?” Griff asked speculatively.

Jessi could see the light in his eyes. “Why?”

“I think I might want to run against Percy. That'd give Darcy a fit or two.”

“Or three,” Neil said, grinning.

Doyle had trouble holding in his smile. “Are you serious?”

“I think I am. What do you think, Jessi? Do you want to be married to a sheriff?”

She didn't hesitate. “Griffin, if you want to be sheriff, you have my blessing.”

He turned his attention back to Doyle. “Do you think I can be elected?”

The big barkeep shrugged. “Darcy bought a lot of votes last time around and folks were real scared. This time, though, his pockets are lighter, and you did fix it so folks were able to get their land and homes back. So
who knows, maybe they'll be less afraid now. I know I'd vote for you.”

“That's one,” Two Shafts cracked.

So Griffin and Jessi accompanied Doyle back to town. The sight of still smoldering rubble on the spot where the Darcy Hotel once stood brought them up short. The scorched and blackened remains bore little resemblance to what once had been Vale's fanciest landmark. A crowd of curious townspeople were gathered around the ruins, peering and pointing at the piles of debris and ash.

As Jessi and Griffin rode on, the onlookers turned their way. A few met Jessi's gaze and gave her an almost imperceptible nod of greeting, which she returned.

The bank was quiet and shadowy. The two small windows in the front wall let in as much light as they could, but it wasn't enough. The only person inside was the clerk who'd delivered the deeds to Griffin the night of the poker game. His name was Alfred Cooper and he was a short thin-boned man. When they walked up to his desk, he gave them a disdainful glance and went back to the ledger he was viewing.