Packing Iron (8 page)

‘Do like she says,’ Gabriel said quietly. Holstering his Colt, he helped Ingrid to her feet. He then looked at Jesse, who was bleeding from a swollen cut on his temple. ‘Ride,’ he said grimly, ‘an’ take that scum-eatin’ filth with you.’

Rising, Jesse dragged his dead partners to their horses, threw them over their saddles, grabbed the reins and rode off.

‘We’re done here,’ Gabriel told Ingrid. He helped her onto the wagon box. Then he put his arm around Raven’s shoulders and said so only she could hear: ‘Look after your
mom while I get the horses. She needs you.’

‘Me?’

‘Sure. Don’t always take a lifetime, y’know.’

‘What doesn’t?’

‘Bein’ responsible.’

‘What?’

‘Sometimes, just like now, person gets all growed up in seconds.’ Patting her on the head, he walked toward the team.

‘Aren’t you even gonna thank me?’

‘I just did,’ Gabriel said. ‘Think about it.’

It was dark when they reached the outskirts of Las Cruces.

Once a dusty little Mexican village located at the foot of the Organ Mountains, it had acquired its name in 1830 when a group of travelers were massacred by Apaches and crosses were put on their graves. Then in 1882 the arrival of the Santa Fe Railroad transformed it into a bustling town with a courthouse, six hotels and almost twenty saloons. There was also a sheriff’s office and jail, numerous stores and churches, schools and a residential area where large hip-roofed houses on grassy lawns dwarfed the rows of
traditional
one-story adobe homes.

At the edge of town, bordering the desert, there stood a large walled compound known as Ft. Seldon. Manned by black troopers whom the Indians called Buffalo Soldiers, it had been built to protect the settlers from marauding Apaches; but with Geronimo’s capture it had outlasted its usefulness and was now due to be closed.

Gabriel, astride the Morgan, led the wagon past the fort on into town. They cut through the Mexican section, riding past cantinas, adobe hovels and a mariachi band playing in a small dirt plaza, and finally reached Main Street. Though it was supper time the sidewalks were crowded and
buckboards
and wagons were everywhere. Gabriel kept his eye out for the law as he rode alongside the wagon. None of the
townspeople paid attention to them but Ingrid, concerned for his safety, begged him to ride straight to the mission. He stubbornly refused, and insisted on making sure they were comfortably ensconced in the Hickory Hotel before leaving them.

‘I’ll be back in the mornin’ to take you to the train,’ he told Ingrid.

Worried about his safety yet wanting to see him one more time, she said only: ‘If you insist.’

Gabriel fondly tousled Raven’s hair, ‘Right proud of you, scout,’ and was gone before she could answer.

There was a livery stable on the next corner. Gabriel turned the Morgan and team over to the old bearded hostler, paid him for one night’s keep, along with a dollar tip, and thumbed at the hay loft above them. ‘Mind if I stretch out for a few hours?’

The hostler leaned on his hay fork, sized Gabriel up, and spat tobacco juice into a pile of hay. ‘For one more of these,’ he said, holding up the silver dollar, ‘you can keep the mice company all night.’

Gabriel handed him the dollar, hefted his saddle onto his shoulder and climbed the ladder up to the loft.

‘Might you be expectin’ any visitors, son?’

‘Just the mayor an’ a ten-piece brass band,’ Gabriel said.

‘Figgered as much.’ The hostler chuckled, spat again and continued forking hay into the feed boxes.

Dawn was still an hour away when Gabriel swung into the saddle and nudged the Morgan out of the livery stable. The mission convent was only two miles away in Mesilla, but he wanted to get there early so he didn’t have to rush his visit with Ellie and still be back in time to take Ingrid and Raven to the station.

Taking care of them had become important to him. He didn’t know exactly when it had started but he now knew Ingrid meant something to him and he felt fatherly toward Raven. Vexing and rebellious as she was, he knew that if he’d been lucky enough to live a normal life and raise a daughter he would have wanted her to be like Raven. As for Ingrid, a man would be hard-pressed to find a better woman. Too bad, he thought, that fate had chosen another trail for him….

The town was quiet. Still. Gabriel felt a cold wind off the desert chilling his face as he rode toward the outskirts. He kept to the unlighted side streets, hoping to avoid running into a patrolling lawman, the steady thud-thudding of the stallion’s hoofs on the dirt a lulling rhythm in his ears.

As he rode he tried to imagine how surprised Ellie would be when she saw him. His last memory of her was an ugly one. Knowing he’d been shot, she begged him to let her take him to the doctor in Santa Rosa. He refused, assuring her that his wound wasn’t severe. By her expression he knew he hadn’t fooled her, but she was wise enough to realize he didn’t want her to see him die and let the matter drop. She just sat there, astride the leggy blue roan, tears running down her lovely face. At death’s door, he’d then kissed her hand and promised to write her soon as he reached California, believing even as he spoke that he’d never see her again.

Well, he thought now, he hadn’t lied to her after all. Because in a few minutes he’d be able to hold her again; and though her love would never belong to anyone but God, at least from now on they would occasionally get to see one another.

The thought of that made him smile.

Leaving Las Cruces, Gabriel rode south and soon entered
the outskirts of Mesilla. As he looked about him he realized nothing had changed since his last visit.

Before he’d holed up in Mexico he’d often met Cally in one of the many backstreet cantinas, knowing that if he didn’t cause any trouble the law, such as it was, wouldn’t bother him. And here he was, he realized, five years later riding in to meet her sister.

At a convent!

Fate was sure strange.

But then the history of the little village, he knew, was equally strange. During the Civil War Mesilla had served as the capital of the Confederate Territory of Arizona; later it became known as the ‘hub’ of the entire region and the crossroads for two important stagecoach lines, Butterfield and the Santa Fe Trail. At the time, adjoining it was a smaller, sleepier village known as Las Cruces. Neither was expected to ever grow into a city. But of the two Mesilla, she of the bawdy cantinas and festivals that were frequented by Billy the Kid, Jessie Evans and Pat Garrett, would have been the choice if anyone asked.

Then in 1881 the Santa Fe Railroad offered to pay the citizens of Mesilla for the right to build a railroad through town. The people agreed but the price they demanded for the land was too high. The railroad men looked elsewhere. They discovered neighboring Las Cruces wasn’t so greedy. Visionaries, the townspeople knew their future lay with the railroad and offered their land for free. The rest was history.

Ahead, Gabriel saw the old adobe church and buildings of the Sisters of Mercy convent silhouetted in the dawn light. Reining up, he dismounted, tied the Morgan to a tree and approached the chapel-shaped wooden gate. It opened at his touch. Removing his hat, he walked up the flagstone path to the front door. Lights showed in some of the windows. The nuns, as he had expected, were early risers.
Hoping he wasn’t disturbing their prayers, he took a deep breath to settle his nerves and pulled the bell-rope.

Shortly the door opened and an elderly nun in a black habit and a medieval white coronet smiled serenely at him. ‘Yes? May I help you?’

‘I’m here to see someone, sister.’

Her gray eyes looked at the gun on his hip then lifted to meet his gaze and held steadily. ‘Are you sure you have the right place?’

‘Yes, ma’am.’

‘I see. Then perhaps you’d better tell me her name.’

‘Kincaide, sister. Ellen Kincaide.’

‘Ahh,’ the old nun frowned. ‘Dear me, I hope you haven’t traveled too far.’

‘Far enough. Why?’

‘I’m afraid Sister Kincaide has left us.’

Gabriel’s heart sank. ‘She’s passed on, you mean?’

‘Oh, no. Sister Kincaide’s in excellent health. But she decided to serve the Lord at another mission.’

‘An’ where might that be, sister?’

The old nun hesitated and he could tell she was trying to decide if she should reveal Ellen’s whereabouts to a stranger.

‘It’s mighty important,’ he said. ‘Ellie thinks I’m dead and I want her to know I ain’t.’

‘Oh, my gracious … yes … yes, I can see where that would be important. Well,’ the old nun said cautiously, ‘I can’t tell you exactly where Sister Kincaide went – she wasn’t sure herself when she left. But I can tell you that her intended destination was California – Carmel, I believe she said.’ She paused and reflected sadly for a moment. ‘We all thought she was making a mistake. Mother Superior tried hard to change her mind but Sister Kincaide couldn’t be swayed. Said her destiny awaited her there and off she went.’

‘Caught the train, did she?’

‘Yes. Week or so ago. I’m sorry you missed her,’ she said, seeing Gabriel’s disappointment. ‘I’m sure Sister Kincaide would have enjoyed seeing you. She hasn’t been her usual cheerful self of late and I think now I understand why.’

Thanking her, Gabriel dug some money from his pocket and stuffed it into the nun’s aged hands. ‘Put this to good use.’

‘God speed,’ she said gratefully and crossed herself.

As he rode away from Mesilla a storm thundered over the Organ Mountains. A sudden stray shower soaked Gabriel. But the rain only lasted briefly and by the time he’d reached Las Cruces, stopped in at the livery stable and hitched the team to the wagon the sun was shining again and he soon dried off.

Ingrid and Raven were waiting in the hotel lobby when Gabriel drove up. Raven, who’d been watching through the window, ran out to greet him.

‘Can I ride Brandy to the station?’ she begged as he climbed down. ‘Can I, Gabe? Can I? Please?’

‘Sure. But stay close, scout. If someone recognizes me, we’ll need to trade places pronto.’

As he was untying the Morgan from the wagon, it tried to bite him. Cursing, he slapped it with his hat.

Raven scowled at him. ‘You’re never gonna get to be his friend like that.’

‘I don’t want to be his friend,’ Gabriel said. ‘Hell, only reason I’m keepin’ him around is so when he gets old I can sell him for dog food.’

‘Don’t listen to him,’ she whispered to the stallion. ‘He’s an old meany. Besides, I’d steal you away from him ’fore I’d let him do something like that.’

Behind them, Ingrid emerged from the hotel followed by a bellhop with their valises. Gabriel tipped him, threw the bags in the wagon and helped her onto the seat.

‘Sleep well, ma’am?’

‘Very well, thank you.’

‘Fibber,’ Raven said. ‘Momma was worried about you,’ she told Gabriel. ‘Hardly slept a wink.’

‘Raven—’

‘Kept talkin’ in her sleep, too. Should’ve heard all the things she said.’

‘Enough!’ Ingrid rolled her eyes at Gabriel. ‘I swear she has no sense of decency whatsoever.’

Gabriel grinned, snapped the reins and the wagon lurched forward.

They rode along Main Street in the direction of the train station. Townspeople occasionally glanced their way. But no one recognized Gabriel and they went on about their business.

‘How was Ellen?’ Ingrid asked Gabriel. ‘Overjoyed to see you, no doubt?’

‘Ellie wasn’t there. ’Cording to one of the sisters, she left a few days ago for another mission.’

‘Oh, that’s too bad.’ Though sad for him Ingrid felt a glow of relief. ‘So will you be going there next?’

‘I’m considerin’ it.’

‘Is the mission far away?’ Raven asked.

‘Far enough,’ Gabriel said. He fell silent and Ingrid shook her head at Raven, warning her not to bother him again.

Shortly, they turned down Depot Street, a narrow road that led to the train station. The railroad had paved it when they laid the tracks and then gone on to build a fine
stationhouse
– three large wood-frame buildings with slanted roofs that shaded passengers waiting on the platform.

Parking the wagon by the entrance, Gabriel unloaded the valises while Ingrid and Raven entered the stationhouse to buy tickets to Sacramento. From there, according to Reece’s last letter, they could catch a Southern Pacific branch line to Old Calico. ‘I only mention this, sis,’ he’d written, ‘in case something unforeseen happens & I can’t meet you or send one of my men to meet you.’ He’d ended the letter by saying: ‘I’m looking forward to seeing you again, Ingrid, & of course Raven, whom I’ve seen so seldom. Have a safe & comfortable journey. Respectfully yours, your loving brother, Reece.’

Gabriel carried the bags to a shady bench on the platform and waited for Ingrid and Raven to join him. With Ellen gone and a posse hunting him, he realized he had no reason to stay in New Mexico or any of the other states in which he was wanted. California, on the other hand, looked mighty appealing. He would be close to the three people who meant most to him and finally free of the stigma: ‘horse-thief.’

Or would he, he wondered. Stadtlander was a vindictive man capable of cruel, ruthless reprisals. In the years Gabriel had worked for him he’d seen how Stadtlander held grudges against people for the slightest offense. And Gabriel’s offense wasn’t slight: he had killed the rancher’s son, Slade, his only remaining flesh and blood, and he doubted if Stadtlander would ever forgive him. More likely he’d use his wealth and influence to track Gabriel down wherever he went. And once he found him, he’d stop at nothing to kill him. Pinkerton agents, bounty hunters, legitimate lawmen – all would be hunting Gabriel for the big reward Stadtlander was bound to offer.

No, Gabriel thought bitterly, there was only one way to end this continuing vendetta and that was to kill Stadtlander—

‘Train’s due in ten minutes!’ Raven’s excited voice
interrupted
his thoughts.

He turned as she came running up to him. ‘Sounds like you can’t wait to get rid of me.’

‘Quicker the better,’ she quipped. ‘I don’t mean that,’ she added quickly. ‘I’m gonna miss you. Lots.’

‘Me, too.’ He curled his arm around her slender waist and pulled her down on his lap. She made no attempt to break loose. And when he looked into her big black eyes he saw tears welling into them.

‘Be sure’n take good care of your mother, y’hear?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘An’ write me.’

‘How will I know where you are?’

‘Because he’s going to write to me,’ Ingrid said, joining them. She handed Gabriel a slip of paper bearing her brother’s address. ‘And in that letter he’s going to tell us where he is and how he’s doing, isn’t that right, Gabe?’

‘Yep. So you see,’ he told Raven, ‘you got no excuse for not writin’. Now, give me a big hug, scout, an’ then let me have a minute alone with your mom.’

Raven hugged him, her tears wetting his cheek. ‘I love you,’ she whispered. ‘And I will write. You’ll see. You just better write back!’

He squeezed her, feeling emotions he’d never thought existed in him and then released her. He felt her spring away from him and watched as she ran off down the
platform
.

‘It’s not too late to change your mind,’ Ingrid said. ‘The stationmaster said the train isn’t full. And you know how much we’d love to have you come along.’

‘Maybe one day,’ Gabriel said.

She sensed he was evading her question and saw a glint in his eyes that frightened her.

‘Oh, my God,’ she exclaimed. ‘You’re thinking of killing Stillman Stadtlander, aren’t you?’

He wanted to say no but he couldn’t to lie to her.

His silence confirmed she was right. She knew then she’d lost him and she felt cold and empty inside.

‘Men,’ she said angrily. ‘You make me so mad. You’re willing to throw away everything just to fight windmills.’

‘This particular windmill’s tryin’ to kill me an’ he won’t stop till one of us is dead.’

‘All the more reason for you to come to California.’

‘Like I told you once before – runnin’ ain’t the answer.’

‘Getting killed to prove a point is?’

‘I don’t aim on gettin’ killed. But if it’s in the cards, then so be it. I know how to die standin’ up, Ingrid.’

It was the first time he’d called her by name and the fact that he’d waited until now, when it was too late to matter, only made her angrier.

‘Oh yes. I’d forgotten. The code! Your precious code!’ Tears of pent-up rage and frustration now ran down her cheeks. ‘Well, Mr Gabriel Moonlight, let me tell what I think of your code. I think it’s just an excuse men made up so they can ride around slaying dragons, dragons that could easily be ignored but have to be killed so men can feel noble and brave even if it costs them their lives and hurts everyone around them—’

He kissed her, cutting off her angry tirade. Surprised, she responded with more passion than he’d expected. Then both of them heard a distant train whistle and felt the ground trembling and knew it was over.

‘I’m goin’ now,’ Gabriel said, releasing her. He stood up, towering over her, surprised by how much the kiss had affected him. ‘When I get back to town I’ll sell your wagon an’ team an’ send you the money.’

‘Keep it,’ Ingrid said, fighting not to cry. ‘It’ll pay for
your ticket should you ever feel like coming to see me.’

She watched him walk away, tall and wide-shouldered, his long-legged strides soon carrying him to the end of the
platform
and on around the stationhouse, out of sight.

‘Momma, Momma, the train’s coming!’

‘I know, lamb. I hear it.’ Ingrid wiped her tears away and turned to her daughter. ‘Can you believe it? We’re on our way to California.’

Raven nodded and turned to face the oncoming train, trying as she did not to think about how much she would miss Gabriel.