[Texas Rangers 03] - The Way of the Coyote (28 page)

Rusty
had
been thinking about it. He simply saw no solution. The two of them, searching aimlessly across an impossibly broad, open land neither of them knew ... If the Indians didn't get them, hunger and thirst would.

Tanner went into another long, unaccustomed silence. He broke it suddenly. "Looky yonder." He pulled on his reins. "Way up there. Is that buffalo, or is it horses?"

Rusty squinted against the sun's glare on the waving brown grass. "Looks to me like two horses. Can't tell whether they're comin' or goin'."

Tanner studied them a minute. "I believe they're comin' this way. Must be Indians."

"Or a couple of those whiskey runners comin' back." Rusty pulled his horse around. "We better tell the captain."

Burmeister had halted his detail and was waiting. Rusty told him, "We see two horseback riders comin' this way. Our guess is that they're Indians.

"Two of them only?"

"They could be scoutin' for a larger bunch."

Rusty could see momentary conflict in Burmeister's eyes. This mission had been intended to overtake whiskey runners, but stopping incursion by Indian raiders was of greater importance. Burmeister pointed to a shallow ravine carved by runoff water after rare hard rains. "We hide. We wait."

The men followed him.

Rusty and Tanner crawled up over the edge and lay on their bellies so they could see. Rusty caught an occasional glimpse of the riders as they came over a rise, then lost them as they dropped to lower ground. "Still comin' toward us," he said.

Tanner nodded. "Sure look like Indians to me. A little one and a big one." He brought up his rifle but did not aim.

Rusty said, "Let's not be quick to shoot. If they're scoutin', there's no tellin' how far out front they are and how big of a bunch may be followin' after them."

Sweat seeped from beneath Rusty's hatband and ran down to burn his eyes. He wiped away what he could and blinked away the rest. "Does somethin' about that bigger one look familiar to you, Len?"

"He sets his horse like Andy."

Rusty looked again, then gave a glad shout. "It is Andy, and he's got Billy with him!" He turned and yelled at the men in the ravine, "It's our boys. Don't anybody shoot."

Rusty scrambled to his feet. The two riders stopped abruptly and seemed about to turn back. Tanner said, "They don't know who we are." He took off his hat and waved it. "Andy! Billy! It's us."

The two riders hesitated a little longer, then seemed satisfied. They set their horses into a long trot. Andy jumped to the ground and ran to throw his arms around Rusty. Tears of relief rolled down his face, leaving tracks in the dust. Tanner reached up, lifted Billy from his horse's back, and hugged him.

"Young'un," he declared, "we was afraid we'd never see you again."

"Andy found me," Billy said. "Where's Mama? Where's Daddy?"

Rusty hugged him when Tanner got through. "They're at home. We'll be takin' you to them."

Both boys were scratched as if they had ridden through brush. Billy was badly sunburned, his lips blistered and swollen. Tanner handed him a canteen. The boy drank so desperately that Tanner had to take the water back from him. "Easy, Billy. Not all at once."

Andy watched Burmeister and the rangers ride up out of the ravine. He turned and glanced worriedly at the trail over which he and Billy had come. "We're bein' chased. Last time I saw them was maybe half an hour ago."

"Comanches?"

"No, whiskey merchants. They figured on tradin' me and Billy back to the Indians for a lot of horses. We got away from them, but they must still figure we're worth somethin'. They've been on our trail."

Burmeister came up in time to hear the last of it. He asked only one question. "How many are they?"

"Six, if none of them got trampled in the excitement."

"There was excitement?"

"I managed to put some of their whiskey jugs into the fire. Caused a hell of a commotion. I never knew the stuff would burn like that."

Burmeister said, "That is good to consider if ever you are tempted to drink it." He turned back to the task at hand.

"You and the boy could help us capture those
verdammten
. Do you object if we make of you bait?"

Andy frowned. "I'll do whatever you want me to, but leave Billy out of it. He's wore out. He's had too many scares already for a boy his age."

Burmeister accepted. "We want them to think you are too tired to go on. When they come close we will move up and . . ." He made a quick motion as if catching a bug in his hand.

Andy said, "I won't have to play at bein' tired. I'm wore to a frazzle."

Rusty felt himself swelling with pride. "Andy, for bringin' Billy back, the Monahans would let you live on their farm the rest of your life and never do a lick of work."

"All I want is for them to forgive me. And then I'd like to forgive myself."

Tanner interrupted. "It's hard to tell through the heat waves, but I think I see somethin' to the north."

Burmeister signaled the rangers to drop back out of sight. Rusty admonished Andy, "Be careful. If they act like they're fixin' to shoot, you scoot down into the ravine."

"They ain't goin' to shoot me. They'd rather sell me and watch a Comanche do it."

Rusty retreated but stayed in a shallow part of the ravine so he could see over the edge. He had checked his rifle a couple of times before he had identified Andy and Billy. He checked it again.

The riders gradually materialized out of the dancing heat. He counted four. Andy had said there were six. That gave the rangers excellent odds.

The longer Rusty watched them, the more his anger built. The idea of their being depraved enough to sell two boys to the Indians ... he almost hoped they would put up a fight. He felt that he could kill all four without a twinge of conscience.

The riders were two hundred yards away, then one hundred. Rusty whispered, "Andy, come on down from there."

Andy sat hunched as if exhausted, as if he did not care whether he was caught or not. He waited until the men were fifty yards away before he acknowledged them. He stood his ground until they were within twenty yards. Then he put his mount into a hard trot down into the ravine.

Burmeister shouted an order. "Go get them boogers."

The rangers swarmed out of the ravine, encircling the whiskey runners before they had a chance to react. One dressed in Confederate gray foolishly fired at Burmeister but missed. A ranger shot him out of the saddle. The other men raised their hands.

One demanded, "What in the hell is this?"

Burmeister said, "What the hell it is, you are under arrest for running whiskey."

"We got no whiskey on us."

Rusty said, "But you did have. We've got two witnesses that say so."

Andy rode up out of the ravine. He said, "Howdy, Jake. How did you like the fireworks?"

Jake muttered, "You damned hoodoo. I ought to've cut your throat the minute you rode into camp."

"But then you couldn't have sold me to the Indians."

Burmeister said to the smuggler leader, "You were six men. Now you are four. Where are the other two?"

Jake did not answer.

Andy guessed, "They likely stayed to watch what was left of the whiskey while these came after me and Billy."

Tanner dismounted and examined the fallen man. Burmeister leaned from his saddle. "He is dead?"

Tanner nodded. "He showed damned poor judgment for a man who wasn't no better shot."

Andy had no sympathy. "He's the one who first said they ought to trade me and Billy for horses."

Burmeister said, "The weather is warm. He will not keep well." He turned to the smuggler named Jake. "He was your man. You will bury him here."

Jake scowled. "1 don't see no shovel."

Burmeister pointed to a bend in the ravine where runoff water had deposited a layer of stones. "Rocks will cover him finely enough."

The burying went slowly because the three smugglers had to carry the stones an armload at a time to the top of the ravine. Their shirts were soon soaked with sweat.

Rusty asked the captain, "Ought we to go back and find them other two?"

"We have these. Indians will get the rest perhaps. Better we get the little boy home to his family."

Tanner agreed. "I want to be there and see the look on his mama's face."

Rusty thought of Geneva's despair and the futility he had felt in any effort to comfort her. The reunion would be a joyous moment for the Monahans. He knew he would stand back and watch in lonely silence. He was not part of the family, not that one or any other.

The afternoon was wearing down when Burmeister judged the grave to be covered well enough. He asked Jake, "Do you wish to say words over your friend?"

Jake's hands were rough and bleeding from handling the stones. He grunted. "Ain't no use. He can't hear them."

Burmeister removed his hat. "But the Lord can, so I will speak to Him." He looked up. "Lord, we send Thy way this day a lowly sinner who lost his way. Thou may send him to Heaven or to Hell, it is for Thee to judge. We are done with him. Amen." He turned. "Let us be gone from this place."

* * *

They were a couple of miles from the Monahan farm when James and Macy burst suddenly and unexpectedly from a grove of trees. Half the rangers raised guns before they recognized that the riders presented no threat.

James spurred up, face flushed with excitement. "You found Billy!" He reached out and threw both arms around the surprised boy. His voice was jubilant. "There'll be a big celebration tonight."

Burmeister said, "And time for a bit of prayer, I would hope."

James nodded vigorously. "Preacher Webb will see to that. I swear, it was lookin' like we'd have to bury half the family, startin' with Billy's mama. How'd you-all get him back?"

Rusty said, "Andy found him."

James turned toward Andy. "I reckon it takes an Indian to know where to look. No offense meant."

Rusty said, "The way you came bustin' out of the timber, we could've shot you."

James's excitement diminished. "We didn't know at first but what you-all might be Indians. We been out lookin' for sign."

Burmeister asked, "You have seen Indians?"

"One, for sure. He showed up yesterday evenin', watchin' the houses. We've seen him two or three times, but when we go out lookin' for him we can't find him. We figure he's scoutin' us for a war party."

Andy swallowed hard, his expression grim. "Fights with Bears. He knew where he found Billy. He knew we'd bring him back here. Most likely he's waitin' to try to grab him again."

Rusty doubted. "He ought to know Billy's goin' to be guarded extra heavy. He could steal some other boy a lot easier."

"Fights with Bears had him and lost him. That done hurt to his pride. He doesn't want to settle for some other boy. He wants Billy back."

James declared, "Well, he ain't goin' to get him, not as long as there's a Monahan breathin'."

James seemed for the first time to notice the three prisoners, their hands tied to their saddles.

Tanner explained the circumstances. He said, "Maybe the Comanches would settle for a few scalps instead of Billy. Here's three they can have."

The smuggler Jake reacted with fear. "You wouldn't do that to a white man. Would you?"

Tanner kept a straight face. "You were fixin' to let them have two white boys."

Approaching the corrals, Rusty saw many horses penned there. He assumed that James and the others had gathered as many as they could find and brought them here where they could be kept under guard. He saw several of the Monahans' neighbors gathered at the barn. It appeared that much of the community had come together for mutual protection.

Josie was the first family member to see the procession coming. She stood in front of the main house, shading her eyes. She turned and shouted something, then ran to the house in which Geneva and Evan lived. In a moment Geneva rushed out the door, holding her little girl in her arms. Josie took the girl from her so Geneva could run toward her son.

"Billy! Billy!" she cried.

Billy slid down from his horse. It was a long way to the ground, and he went to his knees. He was instantly on his feet and running to meet his mother.

Dust had gotten into Rusty's eyes and made them burn. He looked away.

In a minute the Monahans were all gathered around Billy. Clemmie hugged him, then he was passed to Josie and Alice and Preacher Webb. The boy's father had been in the corral among the horses. He vaulted over a fence and went running to grab his son.

Face shining with tears, Clemmie walked forward to meet Rusty and Burmeister and the others. "Men," she said, her voice near breaking. "there ain't words enough ..."

Burmeister bowed without leaving the saddle. "Madam, it is to this young man that all thanks should go." He nodded toward Andy. "He found him and brought him out."

Clemmie looked up. "Get down off of that horse, Andy Pickard." Her tone of voice was commanding.

Sheepishly Andy complied, looking as if he dreaded a whipping. Clemmie threw her arms around him and embraced him so tightly Rusty half expected to hear Andy's ribs crack. For a small woman, she had always been amazingly strong.

"God bless you, Andy," she declared.

He stammered, "I'm ... I'm sorry about your daddy."

"It was God's doin', not yours or mine. We can't fault the Lord for doin' His will."

Haltingly Andy said, "I got his watch back for you."

He slipped the loop over his head and handed her the silver timepiece. Reverently she pressed it to her cheek. "Bless you, Andy." She cleared her throat and turned toward the larger group of horsemen. "You-all must be tired and thirsty and hungry. Come on up to the house. We'll fix you a celebration supper."

Burmeister dismounted and touched the brim of his hat. "In a while, madam. First we must see to the horses."

Geneva released Billy only long enough for the other family members to hug him again, then she clasped him as if she never intended to let him go. She leaned her head against her husband's shoulder and cried.

Rusty wanted to go to her but could not. Instead, Josie came and put her arms around him. "It's a happy day you've brought us, Rusty."