Cougar's Prey (9781101544846) (11 page)

“Why do you say that?”

“Because my allegiance does not come cheap.”

Miguel shot Maria an angry look. “You are sworn to gold and nothing else. Don't let her fool you, Ranger Wolfe.”

The woman shrugged, obviously accepting Miguel's words as the truth. She pushed a wrinkle out of her long black skirt, then looked away from both men.

“Would either of you mind telling me what's going on?” Josiah asked. “You pull a gun on me, escort me upstairs, and now I am to understand that you're on a mission from Juan Carlos, to what, protect me? I am in no danger. At least no danger that I can't handle on my own.”

“Don't be so sure of that,” Miguel said. “You do not stink enough to be a real hide trader. No man worth his salt was going to tell you anything that is about to happen, even though Agusto was trying to warn you.”

Josiah looked at Miguel curiously.

“He said the sky would change before the fall of night, and he was correct about that. Clouds are gathering.”

“You have played in the cantina for days,” Josiah said.

“Watching after you when your own Rangers would not. That and waiting for the beautiful Maria to appear.” Miguel smiled. “Has it ever occurred to you that you were sent here to die?”

“I was sent here on orders from Captain Leander McNelly to serve the state of Texas. If I die in that service, then so be it.”

“You are cavalier and stupid at the same time, Josiah Wolfe. Your life has no value to Leander McNelly or his battery of politicians that pose to protect us all. You are a mere pawn, easily disposed of for the purposes of commerce.”

Josiah forced his rising anger deeper down. Miguel was trying to convince him of something that was not, could not, be true. “I don't need watching after. Where is Juan Carlos?”

“Close,” Maria said. “He will not be able to restrain himself to stay away.”

“Make no mistake, Juan Carlos is nothing more than a messenger,” Miguel said with an angry tone of his own. “There are those who know his past and trust him less than you trust us.”

Josiah stood firm, said nothing.

He was completely aware of Juan Carlos's past, that he himself was, and had, acted in the capacity of a spy for the government of Texas. It had been that way since the beginning, since Josiah had come to know the Mexican—who really was only half-Mexican. The man was actually the half brother of the late Captain Hiram Fikes, a man Josiah had fought next to in the War Between the States and ridden with as a Texas Ranger, an original member of the Frontier Battalion. But only a select few knew the two were actual brothers. Josiah hadn't discovered that information until after Captain Fikes had been killed.

Juan Carlos had saved Josiah's life in San Antonio, when he began his duty with the Texas Rangers the previous year, and that act had created a bond between the two men. One that had grown into a deep and sincere friendship. As much as that was possible with a man like Juan Carlos.

“You are a known spy, Josiah Wolfe,” Miguel said. “And you have made a serious enemy of Cortina. Surely, you must know that? I will not stand by and watch this town fall into his hands. My allegiance is to freedom, not tyranny, do you understand that, Josiah Wolfe?”

Josiah nodded.

“We have been asked to get you out of Corpus Christi,” Miguel continued, “to make sure you are safely on your way back to Austin, but I fear it may be too late.” The guitar player peeked out the curtains again, this time a little more cautiously. He struggled not to shake the curtain and make their presence known to the outside world.

“Why is that?” Josiah asked.

Before Miguel could answer, Josiah heard gunshots in the distance, faint at first, then joined by others, like a battle breaking out and drawing closer. He instinctively reached for his own gun, a Colt Peacemaker.

“Because Cortina is already here,” Miguel said. “The battle for Corpus Christi has already started.”

Josiah stood next to Miguel, his Peacemaker cocked, a bullet chambered. “Are you going to tell me what's going on? Or am I just supposed to shoot and ask questions later?”

“If what I have learned is correct, Cortina is planning to take Corpus Christi as his own. There was a rendezvous this morning outside of town. I have no idea how many men have joined his cause,” Miguel said. “But I believe it to be a powerful army, attacking now a population unaware of its full intention.”

An invasion by Juan “The Red Robber of the Rio Grande” Cortina did not take a lot of imagination to envision. He had tried to invade and take back parts of Texas before—most notably Brownsville, in 1859, when he swept into town and held firm control of it for the better part of two months. There were other incidents over the years, incursions by Cortina and his followers, that led all of those in power—government, military, and law enforcement, including the Rangers—to take any threat by him very seriously.

Maria slid a rifle out from under the bed, a Winchester Model '73 like the one Josiah normally carried. She loaded and cocked the gun like she knew what she was doing, then went to the window, just to the left of the bed, and slid it open only enough to prop the rifle barrel on the sill. She had a clear shot straight down the street. “There will be a team of men coming here for you, Josiah Wolfe. I believe there is a debt to repay,” she said.

“I don't owe Juan Cortina a thing.”

“From what I understand,” Miguel said, “two of his men are dead because of you. Important men with strong and powerful ties that reached all the way to Austin and beyond, even to Abilene. You owe Cortina the money he has lost because of your actions. He will want something for payment. Either your allegiance or your scalp.”

“He'll get neither.”

“Just so you know,” Miguel said. “Who were the men?”

“That would be Liam O'Reilly, a low-life outlaw who was true to no cause but his own. I did not kill him. Feders did.”

“The Texas Ranger captain who betrayed you?” Maria asked.

Josiah took a deep breath, listened to the distant shots grow in number, grow closer. An explosion echoed from about six or seven blocks away. Cortina's men were coming in from the outlying districts and working their way to the center of town. There was nothing to shoot at. Yet.

“Pete Feders was a tortured soul,” Josiah answered softly. “He rode with Juan Carlos, Captain Fikes, and myself for many a year. I thought I could trust him, until the captain was killed, then he became unpredictable. It seems Feders had taken a shine to the captain's daughter, and the money that was bequeathed her—all lost in the Panic of '73. He wanted her hand in marriage, but the daughter, Pearl, would have nothing of it, even though her mother was desperate for the marriage to happen. Feders and his stolen money were going to save everything she had to lose.”

“Why would the daughter have nothing of it?” Maria asked with a wry smile.

“She did not love him,” Josiah answered.

There was more to that story, but Josiah was not going to tell Maria Villareal that he had his own tangled feelings for Pearl Fikes, that the two of them had been intimate the night Pete Feders proposed to Pearl publicly and was turned down just as publicly. The embarrassment Feders must have felt had to have been immense, and Josiah had felt sorry for him at the time, regardless of his own feelings for Pearl.

“Pete was desperate to prove himself to Pearl's mother,” Josiah continued. “He made a deal with the devil—Cortina in this case—to enrich both of their pockets from the proceeds of stolen cattle driven north, and in the end, it cost him his life.”

“You killed him.”

“I did.”

It was a hard thing for Josiah to admit out loud to strangers, killing Pete Feders, a man he'd once considered a friend, but there was no way around admitting the truth.

Even though he had been cleared of any wrongdoing by General Steele, Captain McNelly, and Major Jones, Josiah had replayed the event over and over in his mind a million times. The killing still haunted his dreams, and his waking hours as well.

“Your face shows regret,” Maria said.

Josiah did not answer her, did not acknowledge her observation as true, even though she had read his emotions correctly. “Feders and O'Reilly were on their way to seal the deal with Cortina. I had to stop them.”

“And you do not think it is a coincidence that your new captain, this tubercular man, McNelly, has sent you here, only miles away from Cortina's lair?” Miguel asked. “What do you know of his connections?
His
political desires, Josiah Wolfe?”

“McNelly has more spies than just me placed here in Corpus. There is pressure coming directly from the governor's office. It's important for all of Texas to end the thievery and uncertainty that Cortina is set on inflicting on our citizens,” Josiah said.

He was not accustomed to spewing political hyperbole, but Miguel's accusations against Captain McNelly and the Texas Rangers had caught him completely off guard.

At the moment, he wasn't sure what was going on—except that he was in more danger than he'd previously realized—and the political machinations of Corpus Christi were as foreign to him as the jittery seagull perched on the rooftop across the street.

“If you are loyal to Juan Carlos, how can you question the intentions of any Texas Ranger?” Josiah asked.

“Do not be so blind, Josiah Wolfe,” Miguel demanded angrily. “You must know that Juan Carlos operates as much outside of the law as inside it. He is no stranger to the halls of power, either. You have never been safe here in Corpus Christi. Not as Zeb Teter or as Josiah Wolfe. You must leave at once. There are two horses tied up behind the livery waiting for you. Maria will keep you safe.”

“Shouldn't that be the other way around?”

Miguel's face twisted into a smile, but his eyes were cold as ice. “If only that were true. Now go. Before it is too late.”

 

 

Maria Villareal insisted on taking the lead out of the door. Josiah followed close behind, his Peacemaker raised and ready to fire.

The late afternoon sun had tilted west, creating pockets of deep gray shadows in the alleyway that separated the buildings that were packed into the district Josiah had taken up residence in. Shouting and gunfire were drawing closer. There was a smell in the air, smoke mixed with dust and gunpowder, that betrayed any idea that a natural storm was coming. Any thunder to be heard was man-made, and any rain that fell to the ground would be droplets of blood. The only thing that could cleanse a rebel uprising was a direct battle. Josiah hoped that those who wielded power in Corpus Christi were ready for the fight that had come to their city.

Maria stopped at the bottom of the stairs. “The livery is two blocks to the south.”

Josiah shook his head no. “I know that livery, but my horse is in a stall near the boardinghouse I was staying at.”

“Where?”

“The Hassit-Lee Boardinghouse.”

“Are you a fool? That is right in the midst of the shooting,” Maria said.

“I can hear that.”

“And you insist on walking straight into this battle, knowing full well that there are men who are seeking you out to kill you?”

“I've been in that position before.”

“Why does that not surprise me?”

“You are welcome to stay here,” Josiah said. “I'd just as soon that you would, but I'm not leaving my horse.”

“You are willing to die for a horse?”

“Yes.”

“You are a strange, stubborn, man, Josiah Wolfe,” Maria Villareal said, stepping away from him, easing alongside the building, and heading north toward the Hassit-Lee Boardinghouse instead of south to the preappointed livery.

“I've been called worse,” Josiah said, pushing past her, giving her no time to protest, as he took the lead.