[Texas Rangers 06] - Jericho's Road (22 page)

It had been dark for an hour. Jericho lighted a lantern beneath the roof’s narrow overhang and beckoned to Gonzales. The burro stood droop-headed where the old man had stopped him.

Jericho asked impatiently, “What you got for me, Gonzales?”

His knowledge of Spanish was limited. He knew Gonzales understood English, though the old man acknowledged it to few people. The appearance of ignorance served his purposes. Gonzales said, “I have done as you asked. I have seen the boy Antonio. He is in the house of his stepfather.”

“
Hell, I already knew that.”

“
He is stronger than his family thinks. He tells me he will soon get away. He wants to go back to his
tio
Guadalupe Chavez.”

“
I’ve figured he’d try. Him and Big Jim don’t get along. When does he intend to go?”

“
He says he thinks after two more days he is strong enough to ride. The McCawley and the women are to go to San Antonio. Among the vaqueros the boy has a friend who will bring his horse that night.”

“
Anybody watchin’ him?”

Gonzales held up three twisted fingers. “
Rinches.
But they do not think he is strong enough to ride. He fools them. He has only to get out of the house while others sleep.”

Jericho considered for a moment, then made a grim smile. “He won’t go far. We’ll get him as he leaves.”

“
It will be dark. He will be hard to see.”

“
Even if we lose him, he’ll leave tracks. It’s a long ways to the river. Come daylight we’ll catch up to him.”

“
Bueno.”
Gonzales extended his hand, palm up. Jericho dug several coins from his pocket. Gonzales counted them and looked pained. “What I have told you is worth much more.”

“
This is enough, you damned old bandit. You’ll just get sloppy drunk on tequila. If I was you I’d buy me a young burro with it and feed that one to the hogs.”

“
But Señor Jericho …”

“
Move along before I sic my dogs on you.”

Looking as if he had bitten into a sour melon, Gonzales mounted the burro. His thin legs hung almost to the ground. He struck the burro across the hips with a rawhide quirt and cursed it as he rode southward.

Hatton said, “Kind of rough on the old reprobate, ain’t you?”

“
He’ll take it. He likes my money too much not to. Anyway, I’ve got no respect for a man who betrays his own kind, even if his kind are Mexicans.”

“
How can you be sure he won’t betray
you?
”

“
He won’t. He knows I’d skin him and nail his hide to the barn. I may do it anyway when I’ve finished with him. He leaves a stink wherever he goes.”

The old burro was still wet from swimming the river when Gonzales quirted him up to the stone house. A man walked out and confronted him, holding a rifle.

“
I am Fermín Gonzales. I have come with news for Don Guadalupe Chavez.”

The rifleman studied him with distrust. “I know who you are. Get down. Let me see if you are carrying a weapon.”

Gonzales said, “Only this poor knife. It is so dull it will not cut hog fat.”

The guard looked him over carefully anyway. Gonzales said, “I am but a poor man doing a service for my good friend Lupe. Why would I wish to do him harm?”

“
Perhaps someone has paid you to. We know you come from the Texas side. You have been watched since before you rode into the river.”

“
It is good to see everyone so careful. One can never be certain who are friends.”

“
Or enemies.” The guard said, “Wait. I will tell Don Lupe.” He walked into the stone house. Shortly he returned, followed by Guadalupe Chavez.

Chavez’s eyes were as distrustful as the guard’s. His voice was sharp and without friendliness. “What have you for me, Gonzales?”

Normally it would be custom to invite a guest into the house and offer him something to drink. Chavez did not. Gonzales was aware of the slight, but he hid his resentment. A wise man does not bite the hand that may soon offer him money.

“
I have seen your nephew Antonio.”

Chavez’s attitude changed abruptly to one of eagerness. “Where is he? Is he well?”

“
He is in the house of his mother. He is not well.”

“
But he is alive?”

“
Yes. He was shot by the Jericho’s men. Some
rinches
took him to the hacienda McCawley. But he gains in strength. It is his intention to slip away and come back here to you.”

“
When?”

“
If all goes well, he will leave in two nights.” He explained about his ruse to get into the McCawley house and speak to Tony. He told of Tony’s intention to escape. He said nothing about Jericho, for that would risk revealing that he was working both sides.

Chavez frowned. “It will be a long ride to the river. Do you think he is strong enough to endure it?”

“
He thinks he will be. I am not so sure. It would be well if you met him and made certain. The
rinches
are sure to follow him.”

A disturbing thought came to Chavez. “Do you think Jericho knows where he is?”

“
How could he know? Unless, of course, there is a traitor somewhere.”

“
I wish I could send word to Antonio that we are coming to meet him.”

“
I can go back. They accept me as a
curandero.
I can tell them I have come with medicine for the boy.” That offer, and the risk inherent in it, should be worth a larger payment, he thought.

“
Do that. Tell him to come to the old adobe camp. He knows where it is. We will meet him and see him safely to the river.”

“
It will be done.” Gonzales hesitated, staring at the ground. “I have expenses, Don Lupe.”

“
Of course. Wait while I go into the house.” Chavez came back in a few minutes with a small leather bag that clinked as he placed it in Gonzales’s hand. “You have done me a service.”

“
Gracias, patrón.
May you live well and die a very old man.”

Gonzales hefted the bag. He knew without counting that it did not come up to his expectations. Disappointed, he started to complain but thought better of it and turned away. Chavez would probably chastise him for being greedy, as Jericho had done, and pay him no more. He reined the burro toward the river.

Chavez watched until Gonzales was a couple of hundred yards away, then crooked his finger and beckoned to one of the pistoleros who had fought the gringos with him.

He said, “I have no trust in Gonzales. It was he who told me Jericho was gathering a herd. It was a trap. He has promised to go to the hacienda of Jaime McCawley. Follow him. If he rides in any other direction he has lied to me. Kill him.”

“
Sí, patrón.
It will be done.” The pistolero went to catch his horse.

Gonzales crossed the river, but once out of sight he turned eastward. He had no intention of returning to the McCawley ranch and delivering Chavez’s message. The risk was too great, the reward too small.

He saw some possibility that Chavez and Jericho might collide in their search for Tony. Perhaps if they had been more generous he would favor one or the other. As it was, beyond the loss of their meager bribes he would feel satisfaction rather than grief if either or both of them died. He was acutely aware that the two men held him in contempt, though they were not so contemptuous that they would not use him.

This was a game that more than two could play. It would serve them right if he were the instrument of their mutual destruction.

He would follow the river down to Matamoros, where a man with money in his pocket could debauch himself on the sweet fruit of the vine, dance with lissome señoritas, and be young again while the money lasted. He felt younger already. He could hear the music playing in his head. He hummed along with it and for a while did not notice the horseman rapidly catching up from behind.

Awareness brought alarm, and he quirted the burro vigorously across both hips. It was of no use. The horseman pulled up beside him, a pistol in his hand. His eyes were those of a hawk swooping in for the kill.

Gonzales tried to cry for mercy, but his mouth and throat were dry. He heard the shot. He felt nothing when he hit the ground.

CHAPTER TWELVE

T
he sun broke over the eastern horizon as Big Jim McCawley helped his wife and daughter up into the buckboard. He turned back to Andy and said, “I hate to go, under the circumstances, but we’ve got to. I’m meetin’ with a cattle buyer in San Antonio. Teresa needs books and things for teachin’ when school takes up again. Tony seems to be comin’ along all right. He just needs healin’ time.”

Andy said, “If anybody was fixin’ to make a move against Tony, looks like they would’ve already done it. We’ll keep a close watch over him.”

Several of the ranch hands were going with the McCawleys to protect the family on the road. Travelers were beset from time to time by highwaymen who had no connection with either Jericho or Guadalupe Chavez. Andy, Farley, and Hewitt were staying.

Andy asked, “What do you want us to do if Sergeant Donahue sends for Tony?”

“
How good are you at lyin’?”

“
Never was much of a hand at it. The Comanches didn’t have much use for a liar unless he was braggin’ about a fight. They made allowances for that.”

“
Convince them that Tony is still too weak to be moved. We should be back in a few days. I know a good judge in San Antonio. I think I can get a court order to make Donahue leave him be.”

That pleased Andy, though he wondered about the fairness of a legal system that would let a man of influence obtain favors unlikely to be available for the average poor citizen from the forks of the creek. He thought it probable that Donahue might know a judge or two himself.

The procession consisted of the buckboard, a wagon, and four horsemen. He watched it leave, then turned toward the house, where Farley and Hewitt stood beside the door.

In Andy’s days at the ranch he had heard Tony say very little to anyone. He was surprised when Tony asked, “They gone?”

“
They’re just toppin’ the hill. Why? Didn’t they tell you good-bye?” He let a little sarcasm creep into his voice.

“
I’m glad Farley Brackett didn’t go along. I don’t like the way he keeps lookin’ at my sister.”

“
Farley’s got his faults, but he wouldn’t harm a woman.”

“
My sister is half Mexican. He doesn’t have much respect for Mexicans.”

“
She’s also half gringo. Does that make you have any less respect for her?”

“
That’s different.”

“
Not much.” Andy looked at a small bedside table where a cup of coffee was going cold. “Need anything?”

“
I wish you’d open the shutters and let some air in here. It was awful warm all night.”

“
We’ve kept the shutters closed so nobody can slip up in the dark and shoot you through the window.”

“
But it’s not night anymore. Nobody’s goin’ to try it in broad daylight.”

“
I guess not.” Andy swung the shutters back and opened the window. “Me and Hewitt will be close by. Holler if you need anything.”

“
I just need lettin’ alone.”

That suited Andy. He had had about enough of Tony’s sour attitude. He was tempted to saddle up and ride away, but he had given his word to Big Jim. He might go, however, when the McCawley family returned. They had plenty of help. They didn’t really need him. And he had no obligations to the Rangers anymore. Sergeant Donahue had taken care of that.