[Texas Rangers 03] - The Way of the Coyote (29 page)

He found it hard to speak. "It was Andy's doin'."

"Billy told us a little. If it hadn't been for you and the rangers, Andy and Billy might not've gotten home. I don't know how Geneva could've lived. It's a bitter thing to lose family."

"I can imagine."

"You've been a member of this family for a long time, Rusty, whether you've realized it or not. And so will Andy be from now on. It takes more than just blood to make a family. It takes love."

She tiptoed to kiss him on his bewhiskered cheek. Warmth rushed into his face.

He said, "Maybe you shouldn't do that out here in the sight of God and everybody."

"I'll do it again, Rusty Shannon, whenever I want to. But I'll wait 'til you get rid of those whiskers."

Preacher Webb led the family and everyone else within hearing in a prayer of thanksgiving for Billy's deliverance. "Lord, we thank Thee mightily for the deliverance of this child who was lost. And we beseech Thy blessings on the lad who brought him back to us, for in some ways he is also a lost soul, seeking his way."

Andy appeared overwhelmed. Rusty tried to ease his discomfort. "I know you've been blamin' yourself, but nobody else feels that way. You heard what Clemmie said."

"You don't suppose she just said that to make me feel better?"

"Clemmie Monahan never says anything she doesn't mean."

Andy had long since lost his shirt. Josie fetched him one that belonged to James. Bearing patches on the elbows, it draped around him like a tent. The sleeves extended almost to the tips of his fingers. "At least it covers you up decent," she said.

When she was gone Andy rolled the sleeves up past his wrists. Ruefully he said, "I don't guess folks will ever get used to the Indian side of me."

Rusty said, "Main thing is that
you
know who you are."

"But I don't. I felt out of place when I was up there amongst the Comanches. I feel out of place here. Maybe I don't fit anywhere."

Though he was offered any bed in the house, Andy chose to sleep on the ground in the rangers' camp near the barn. Rusty knew he felt suffocated by all the attention from the Monahans and their neighbors who had gathered in anticipation of an Indian raid. The rangers at least did not fawn over him.

Rusty was awakened by a shout of alarm. The sun was just beginning to rise. A night guard shouted again. "Everybody up. Indians comin'!"

Rusty cast off his blanket and grabbed for his boots, the only thing he had taken off the night before. He grasped his rifle and jumped to his feet. The night guard pointed.

In the dawn's rosy glow Rusty saw more than a dozen Comanches standing their horses in a rough line. A single warrior moved out twenty yards in front of the others. He gestured with a bow and shouted words Rusty did not understand. He asked, "Andy, do you know what he's sayin'?"

Andy listened, his face grim. He sucked in a deep breath and slowly let it go. "He's makin' a challenge."

"A challenge?"

"'That's Fights with Bears. He's the one who had Billy."

"Well, he's not gettin' him back. Every last man here would die before they take that boy again."

Andy shook his head. "He's not askin' for Billy. He's askin' for me."

"You?"

"I shamed him. I stole Billy right out from under him while he was asleep. It's a matter of pride."

"You ain't goin' out there to him."

Andy picked up the rifle he had recovered from the smugglers. He checked the load. "If I don't they'll charge down on this place."

"We've got men and guns enough to whip them."

"But what'll it cost? I've got people on both sides. I don't want to see anybody dead."

"That Indian wants to see
you
dead."

"Maybe he'll settle for somethin' less." Andy walked toward the lone warrior, the rifle cradled in his arms.

Rusty shouted, "For God's sake come back here."

Andy kept walking. He focused his main attention on Fights with Bears, but he tried to watch the line of Comanches to the rear as well. If they decided to rush him he would have no chance. But Bears was Andy's immediate concern. The rest were likely to take their cue from him. Bears had no firearm that Andy could see. He held a lance and had a bow and a quiver of arrows slung over his shoulder.

Andy had the advantage. His rifle was loaded and cocked. He stopped twenty feet short of the horseman. He felt cold sweat on his forehead and hoped Bears could not see it. He said, "I am the one you asked for."

Bears looked at the rifle. "You have come armed."

"You are armed, too." The lance had a sharp-looking flint point, fashioned for killing buffalo. Bears could drive it all the way through Andy's body if he so chose.

Bears's eyes were fierce. "You stole the boy that belonged to me."

"He never did belong to you. He belongs to his mother and father."

"I won him in battle."

"It was no battle. You killed a helpless old man and took the boy. They had no chance."

"No matter. He was mine. You stole him from me. You owe me something."

"A fight?" Andy raised the muzzle of the rifle an inch. "I could kill you before you could move."

"My warriors would kill you before you drew another breath."

"And there are enough white men at this place to kill them all. Who would be the winner? Not your warriors. Not you or me."

Bears tried to show defiance, but his eyes reflected frustration. "You have a good fighting spirit. I would take you in place of the boy."

"I would never be accepted. I have killed one of The People. I am told that the one who died was a brother to your wives. They would gladly hack me to pieces."

Bears's mouth twisted as he contemplated the impasse. "It is a matter of honor. I must satisfy my honor."

"Perhaps you would like to have my scalp."

That surprised and puzzled the Comanche.

Andy said, "Here, I will give it to you." Laying down his rifle, he drew his knife. He reached up for one of his braids, cut it off and tossed it. Bears almost dropped his lance in grabbing for it. Andy cut off the other and threw it. Bears missed it but picked it up from the ground with the point of his lance.

Andy retrieved his rifle. "You can have a scalp dance over those."

For a moment Bears seemed perplexed. "Then he raised the braids high over his head and gave a loud, victorious whoop. The warriors behind him took up the cry. Bears rode slowly forward, lowering the lance.

The rifle felt slick in Andy's sweaty hands. He pointed its muzzle at Bears, his finger on the trigger. One twitch and the Comanche would be dead. The battle would be on.

Bears touched a flat side of the lance point against Andy's arm. Then he wheeled his horse around and set it into a long trot back toward the waiting warriors. As he passed them, shouting and holding the braids high, they turned and followed him away.

Andy had held his breath. Lungs burning, he gasped for air and allowed himself to wipe a sleeve across his forehead. The cuff came down over his hand.

Rusty hurried out to his side. "You all right?"

"I'm not bleedin', if that's what you mean."

"I thought he meant to kill you."

"He knew I'd take him with me. He didn't want me that bad. So he accepted a piece of my scalp and counted coup. That was enough to patch up his pride."

"He's liable to keep tryin' to get you."

"I doubt it. Him and his wives will make medicine with those braids. They'll try to cast spells and send dark spirits after me. But I think that'll be all of it."

The Indians were quickly fading from sight. Rusty looked relieved. "You afraid of dark spirits?"

"I wish I could say I'm not, but there's still a part of me that wonders."

"Don't worry. We'll sic Preacher Webb onto them."

B
y the next day the neighbors were dispersing back to their own homes, feeling that at least for a time the Indian threat was over. A courier arrived looking for Captain Burmeister. He handed the officer an envelope. "You're hard to find," he said. "Been huntin' you for a week."

"I have been busy for a week, and much more." Burmeister tore the edge from the envelope and unfolded the letter, frowning as he read. Finished, he called his rangers around him. "It is from the governor's office that I have received this. The money is gone. We are to disband."

Tanner commented, "I didn't figure we'd get paid anyhow."

Rusty asked, "What'll you do now, Captain?"

"The letter says there is other work for me. I am to become a judge."

"That's better than ridin' all over hell and gone chasin' Indians and whiskey runners."

"Perhaps." The captain folded the letter and put it in his shirt pocket. "I am no longer so young. But I liked it, to be a ranger again even for just a little while. What will you do, Private Shannon?"

"Go back home. I've some unfinished business there."

"You will be subject to arrest if you go there."

"I'm subject to arrest anywhere. Even here, if the Oldham brothers take a notion to come for me again, or to send somebody. I can't go on forever with a warrant hangin' over my head. I want to get things straightened out, whatever it takes."

Burmeister said, "All I can give you is a wish for good luck. I have not even the money to pay you for the time you have served."

"I knew that when I joined up. It's always been that way with the rangers. One day of side meat and a month of sowbelly."

Burmeister nodded agreement. "If a character witness you need, send for me. I will gladly serve."

Rusty knew Burmeister's record as a Union officer during the war would give his word extra weight in a reconstruction court. Especially if he were a judge. "I'd be much obliged."

Josie grasped both of Rusty's hands when he told her. She said, "You have friends here who would never let the state police take you away. Stay. The government is bound to change sooner or later."

"I can't keep leanin' on my friends. I've got to find some way to settle this. I have to try to get back what's mine."

"I've told you before, it doesn't matter to me whether you have anything or not."

"It matters to me. I've got to set things right."

"Even if it means goin' to jail?"

"Even that."

She leaned her head against his chest. "All right," she said reluctantly. "I'll keep on waitin'."

Holding her hands, he stepped back to look at her. "Josie, you know I get strong feelin's when I'm with you. For a long time I wasn't sure if they were really for you or if they were for somebody else."

"You mean Geneva?"

He did not answer. He did not have to.

She said, "She's got a life of her own, a husband and two little ones. She's out of your reach. But I'm not. I'm here. All you have to do is ask me."

"I know. But I don't have a right to ask you so long as I've got nothin' to offer."

"I don't need anything. I'd live in a tent. I'd live in a dugout if it was with you. It wouldn't bother me."

"It would bother
me
. I couldn't do it."

She looked up at him, eyes glistening. "Then go. Do what you have to. I'll be here whenever you come back."
Something was different about Andy. Rusty puzzled over it a minute, then realized what it was.

"What did you do to your hair?" he asked.

Andy said, "Alice cut it for me. It looked ragged with the braids backed off."

"You don't look much like a Comanche anymore."

Soberly Andy said, "My brother saw a vision. It told him the old ways are almost gone. He said I have to walk the white man's road whether I want to or not."

"Think you can?"

"He didn't say I'd like it. He said I don't have a choice."

Rusty made a sweeping motion with his arm. "You like this place and the Monahans, don't you?"

"They're good people. But I don't want to stay here while you and Len go back home."

"There's no tellin' what we may run into."

"But it's home—at least the nearest thing to home that I have."

"I may end up in jail."

"Me and Tanner will bust you out."

Rusty smiled. "Aidin' and abettin' a fugitive is what caused all this trouble in the first place."

"So I ought to be gettin' pretty good at it."

* * *

Rusty ached to see the farm where he had spent the larger part of his life, but he knew he must defer that visit until he learned how things stood with him and reconstruction law. His first destination, then, was the Tom Blessing farm.

He and Andy and Tanner tried to be vigilant, but their vigilance was compromised by the excitement of nearing home. Consequently they almost ran into an armed band of riders. Just in time they dropped into a dry creek bed and dismounted to avoid being seen.

"Soldiers?" Rusty asked.

Andy's eyesight was the keenest. He said, "No, they ain't wearin' uniforms."

Tanner said, "State police. They got the look of high authority and meanness. Maybe they're huntin' for you, Rusty."

"I wouldn't think so. The Oldhams don't know but what I'm still at the Monahans'. But that bunch is sure on the hunt for somebody."

Tanner grimaced. "I'd hate to be the one they're after. They look serious enough to shoot him on sight."

Rusty added, "Then claim he tried to get away."

The three remained in the creek bed until the posse passed out of sight. Later they cautiously dismounted in timber and watched the Tom Blessing place for a while before showing themselves. No one was working in the fields. The only sign of life Rusty saw was a thin rise of smoke from the cabin's chimney.

He said, "No sign of trouble, and I don't want to stay here 'til dark." He mounted and moved his horse out into the open. Andy and Tanner followed.

A dog announced their coming. Tom Blessing's wife came to the edge of the dog run and held her hand over her eyes. When Rusty hesitated fifty yards out, she shouted, "It's all right. Come on in."

Rusty dismounted and took off his hat. "Kind of spooked us a little, not seein' Tom or Shanty or anybody."