Callahan had approached Deputy Leary with his story and now the two lawmen were interviewing the witness in their office.
“Okay, Bill,” said Leary, “let’s take it from the top again so the sheriff can hear your story for himself. What happened when you were down in Del Rio.”
“Well, I was there on business last November, so I stopped in at the Rio Grande Hotel for a drink one night. In the bar there was a scuffle between the Comanche and some local hombres. I don’t know what it was all about but those boys wanted to string him up something fierce.”
“They wanted to hang Blue Shadow on the spot?” James asked.
“Yes, sir. That’s when I saw Arthur jump into it. He told them locals that without any evidence there was no grounds for a hangin’. In fact, he said they had no case at all and told ‘em to let the Indian go. Well, those fellers didn’t like that one bit and started to kick up a fuss about it. Arthur just took Blue Shadow by the elbow and walked out of there with him before they could do anything. Saved the Indian’s life, I reckon. The barflies groused about it for a bit and made some ugly noises about lynching them both. But after awhile they just went back to their drinks.”
“Did you see Shadow and Arthur again while you were in Del Rio?” asked Leary.
“Sure did, Ben. Next day I was in my hotel room packin’ up to leave when I glanced out the window and saw the both of ‘em. They was in front of the general mercantile loading supplies into their saddlebags and such like.”
“Were they goin’ about this on their own or did it seem like they were together?” James asked.
“Yeah, funny thing was, Sheriff, it looked like they was doing their own thing in front of the mercantile. Didn’t talk to each other none. Still, because of what happened the night before I was curious and kept watching ‘em. Shadow mounted up first and went north up the street. A couple minutes later Arthur headed in the same direction. I saw ‘em meet up about a block away. Then another feller joined them on his horse. They was too far off from me to get a good look at him. A skinny kid, never seen him before. Anyway the three of ‘em rode out together, headin’ north.
“Much obliged to you for telling us about this, Bill. Keep it under your hat, would you?”
“No problem, Sheriff. I won’t let it slip to nobody else. Already told my wife but I’ll swear her to secrecy when I get home.”
“Okay, that’s fine. Thanks for comin’ in today.”
“Much obliged to you,” Deputy Leary nodded to Callahan, holding the office door open for him. When he had gone back out into the street, Leary turned toward James. “What do you make of it, Boss?”
James put his feet up on his desk and frowned thoughtfully. “I dunno, Ben. Seems like a strange thing for Arthur to do: head all the way to Del Rio, then leave with a Comanche renegade and some other hombre. It could just be a coincidence that Shadow turned up around here afterward, for all we know. And Arthur does have a big heart – he’s been known to help strangers before. Just seems funny that they rode out together and picked up another man on the way.”
The deputy nodded. “I agree with you there. Doesn’t seem like Arthur’s style. You want me to bring him in so we can get his side of the story too?”
“No, let’s just lay low about this for now. We’ll keep an eye on him and the happenings at the Sutton Hotel, see if any more information comes to light.”
“Right. I’ll post one of the emergency deputies near the place. Mose Burton is comin’ in for duty soon and I’ll post him there,” Leary said and busied himself with some paperwork.
James wondered if he was overlooking something in the investigation. If Arthur did have a connection with Blue Shadow’s recent activities and was working with a gang that had a vendetta against the sheriff – why would his friend possibly want to be involved? Was Arthur holding something against him? James thought about it for awhile and nothing came to mind. As far as he knew, he and Arthur were good. He knew of no unresolved issues in their past.
Yet as a lawman for seven years, James had seen many strange twists of human behavior that surprised him. Even from people that he knew well.
“I can’t see Arthur having anything to do with those desperadoes. We’ve known each other since we were kids, Ben. He was best man at me and Margaret’s weddin’, for cryin’ out loud.” Leary looked over at him but said nothing.
James swung his legs down from the desk and stood. “I’m headin’ over to the post office. We’re expectin’ a telegram from Boston on the stage.”
“Okay, Boss,” Leary answered and went back to his paperwork.
James grabbed his Stetson from a peg on the wall and went out into the street. Ιt was a fine, late spring day in Sonora. The sun was warm on his face as he walked the two blocks to the post office.
The mail stage was standing in front of the building and Sam Kimball was inside when James walked in the door. “Sheriff!” he said. “How are you?”
“I’m good, Sam. How’s the road treatin’ you, old timer?” he grinned at the veteran driver standing at the counter in his dusty clothes and sweat-stained sombrero.
“Aw, you know how it is, James,” he said, spitting a stream of tobacco juice into a brass spittoon on the floor. “Seems like these old bones find another dozen bumps in the road every trip. Hear that you and the deputies got your woman back. Good work, amigo. How’s she doin’?”
“Georgia’s well, thanks. Took her and Martha a couple days to recover but they’re fine now.”
“Good to hear! Hope it’s the last we’ve seen of that gang of outlaws.”
“We’re workin’ on it, Sam. Got some leads in the investigation and the emergency deputies are still on duty until we get things settled. Any mail for us today?”
“I dunno, Tony’s in the back sorting it out.”
After a moment the postmaster appeared holding an envelope. “Telegram for Mr. Charles Warton. Would you like to bring it to him, Sheriff?”
“You bet, Tony. Thanks.” James took the envelope and headed for the door. “Good afternoon to you, gents.”
He wanted to get the telegram to Charles as soon as possible and see what was in it. After his arrival the old man had written a letter to the telegraph office in San Antonio requesting them to wire Emilia and deliver the good news that their daughter was safe and sound in Sonora. In the telegram he also asked Emilia to tell Abraham Bishop that his fiancée had been found – and to send his response back to Sonora by wire.
12
Back at the Golden Lane later that afternoon, James handed Charles the telegram from Boston. He tore open the envelope, read it twice just to be sure that it really said what he thought it said, then silently handed the paper to James.
James read it slowly, folded the message back up, and put it into the envelope. “Charles, I can’t say that I’m disappointed about this news. But I’m sorry for the loss of your friend, sir.”
Warton sat down heavily into a chair. “The man turned out to be an awful cad, James, no doubt about it. But this is still such a shock. We knew each other for a quarter century.”
“The death of a friend ain’t ever easy to take,” James said diplomatically. “Can I get you a shot of Texas bourbon?”
“Thank you,” Charles said absently, his mind seeming very far away for a moment. James thought that he must be recalling some good times – happier times – spent with Abraham Bishop. Now his friend was dead of a heart attack at sixty-three years old and he would never see him again this side of eternity.
James poured the old man a stiff glass of bourbon and one for himself too, then sat down in the other chair. After they had both had a sip, James said: “My offer is still on the table, Charles. Just wanted you to know that.”
Warton took another taste of the sour mash. “That is very generous of you, James. I know you mean it sincerely and I appreciate your kindness toward my family. I really do. You have no obligation to me in that regard, however. I will not bankrupt my future son-in-law for
the sake of an old man and his wife. This ranch will provide a fine living for generations of your children. Georgia loves it here – she loves you – so will they.” He raised his glass toward him: “Given the circumstances of Abraham’s passing, you now have my blessing to marry her, McCloud.”
James touched his glass to Warton’s with a sharp clink and they took another drink together.
“Oh, this is fine bourbon!” Charles said.
“I’m surely glad to have your blessing to marry Georgia. It means a lot to both of us, sir. Thank you. But listen now, selling my share of the Golden Lane ain’t gonna bankrupt no one. We’ll still have a few thousand to spare and that goes a long way in this part of the country. David and me have decided we’re gonna stay in the ranching business together, buy another spread, and put our money into the pot. Between the two of us we’ll have enough to get us a fine ranch. We’re young yet, still got a lot o’ zip. And there’s plenty of good land out here. We got our eye on a place nearby.”
Charles was utterly taken aback. The generosity of the McCloud brothers’ offer to help his family, an offer that came at no small cost to themselves, touched him deeply.
By God, these are men of outstanding character. I have never seen the like in all Boston. Simply amazing! And this after all the disappointment Georgia endured from those foppish suitors in Beantown. I’m happy she’s found such a family – and such a man.
“What do you say, Charles?”
“I say to you, sir, that I have not met two men of such stellar character in many years. You do understand that others in your position would toss their in-laws into the poor house without a second thought? And they would be justified in doing it. But here are both of you insisting on saving the fortune of a stubborn old man you’ve known less than a month. A man who refused to let you marry his daughter! I’ve never seen the like.”
James was embarrassed by the high praise. “Well, sir, it’s just the way we do things out west. Family looks out for each other. And now that we’re practically related, what do you say?” he grinned. “You gonna let us save that sinking ship, ‘Pa’?”
“‘Son’,” Warton smiled in return, “I can scarce believe what you and David are offering here. Are you sure about this?”
“Yes, sir. We talked it over and we’re firm on it.”
Charles was visibly moved by their generosity. “There are no words that can express my gratitude, James. ‘Thank you’ is simply not enough. You and David have just saved my wife Emilia from a lot of heartbreak. She was born into a wealthy family, you know? I don’t think she would have survived the shock of penury. And frankly, it scared the hell out of me to have to start over at my age. Thank you to you both!” He raised his glass.
They toasted to the meeting of their minds in agreement at last. “I’m glad we’re seein’ eye-to-eye now, Charles. Listen, will you let me tell Georgia about this myself? I’d like to surprise her with the good news.”
“Yes, yes, of course! I’ve got a letter – I mean a telegram to write to my good lady back home before supper. I can’t wait to tell her either. Thank you again, James, this will mean the world to her – to us. Once the business is solvent we’ll begin repaying you immediately, on whatever terms you request. We will probably never be able to repay all the debt in our lifetime.”
“No problem, sir. But our repayment terms are gonna be pretty tough,” James smiled. “No interest. Pay what you can, when you can. There ain’t no rush. Sound doable, ‘Pa’?”
Warton shook his head in wonder. “Unbelievable. Thank you.”
They raised their glasses once more, finishing the drinks. James stood up and shook the old man’s hand. Then he set out to find his bride.
* * *
“Okay,” Georgia said, “yes, this is truly a beautiful view up here on the ridge, James. But you usually only come here with David when the Texas cattle barons want to sit and survey their domain. Why did you ask little old me here tonight?”
The couple had ridden to the McCloud brother’s lookout above the ranch. At the top of the limestone ridge almost the entire operation was visible: house, barns, stables, bunkhouse, and other outbuildings. Herds of cattle grazed on the savanna. Sonora was visible to the east. On this evening a magnificent, flaming, orange and red sunset lit up the sky to the west. It was all very pastoral and peaceful. The lovers had tethered their horses in a grove of juniper behind the ridge, letting the animals enjoy a bite of fresh spring grass under the trees. Then they walked up to the summit together.
“Does a man need a reason to ride into the beautiful hills and enjoy the view with his beautiful woman?” James said playfully.
“No... but my not-so-beautiful father is still trying to convince you to let him take me away from all this. And I’m not feeling very romantic because of it, my dear. My spunky is definitely turning into cranky these days.”
“Well, what if I told you that your Pa has finally seen the error of his ways, darlin’?”
Georgia gave him a hard look. A look that said this was not a good time to be joking with her. “I’d say that it sounds like Hades has frozen over,” she pouted. “Daddy never sees the error of his ways. Ever.”
“Come to think of it, it is a little cooler today, isn’t it?” James chuckled. “Guess that means old Abe must’ve gone to heaven instead.”
“What?”
“Yep. We got a telegram today, Georgia: Abe Bishop has flown the coop. Died of a heart attack.”
She knew that even James wouldn’t joke about something like that. Relief began welling up in her heart, making it beat faster. “And you talked with Daddy about it? What did he say?”
“He actually seemed relieved after he got over the shock of the news. Wished us all the best and toasted our health. Oh, and he said that our children are gonna love growing up here.”
“He did not, James McCloud!”
“Yes he did, Georgia Warton.”
Her relieved heart was in full flood now, and it overflowed into joy. She took a step toward James, stopped right in front of him, and looked up into his gray, smiling eyes. They hugged for a long moment.
“Have I told you lately that I love you, James McCloud?”
“No,” he replied. “Kinda figured you might though.”
She hit him playfully on the back and kissed him.
13
Blue Shadow walked through the cave carrying an oil lamp that lit up a small area around him. Here and there, strange, icicle-like formations hung from the ceiling and stuck up from the stone floor. They were ghostly white and threw bizarre, stretching, moving shadows against the cave walls as he passed by. Sometimes he stumbled and nearly fell onto the sharp rocks. But he regained his balance and continued moving forward at a slow, careful pace.
The renegade was a stocky, well-muscled man of five feet, six inches, and thirty-five years old. His thick black hair parted in the middle and hung down to the shoulders. Close set, piercing brown eyes glared out above a large nose, giving him the appearance of a bird of prey. He was dressed in a plain cotton shirt, vest, and canvas pants. Leather moccasins and a waist pouch were colorfully decorated with Native American bead work. A couple of feathers were tied to the dart pipe slung over his shoulder. His gun belt had a revolver in the holster, and the handle of a large Bowie knife protruded from a scabbard.
Shadow felt at home in the cave. He was an outcast from his own people, the Nokoni – or ‘wandering’ Comanche. A wanderer from the wanderers. They knew about this cave but avoided it completely because it was believed to be a home of evil spirits.
He grinned in the darkness.
They say I have a bad spirit in me, he thought with amused irony. So this is good place for Shadow to be! Maybe now the spirits are his people. He was pleased with the idea and the grin turned into a cackle of laughter that echoed among the caverns.
“Hello spirits!” he called out loudly, then stopped walking and waited for a response. When the echo had died there was only silence. T
he Nokoni shrugged and continued his journey deeper into the cave.
After a twenty-minute walk into the heart of the earth, Shadow entered an area dimly lit by a hole in the cave ceiling. This natural skylight illuminated a wide, open space with an area to one side that was flat and clear of rocks. This was where Shadow had made a home. He took off his dart pipe and leaned it against the rock wall, then sat for awhile, resting and regaining his strength.
After a few minutes, the Nokoni reached into the leather pouch tied around his waist and drew out a pinch of a brown, powdery substance between two fingers. Placing it into one nostril, he snorted loudly with a quick inhale through the nose.
“Ahh...” he exhaled.
Caught Between Love And Duty Page 11
