Forty-Four Caliber Justice

by Donald L. Robertson

  The door opened and Rud walked in. “Well, looky here. Look who’s returned to the land of the living. Good to see you, Clay, even though you’re still looking a mite peaked. Boy, you sure do fill up a bed.”

  Clay looked down and could see his feet and ankles sticking out past the sheet. “What am I doing here?”

  “I’ll tell you what you’re doing here, you collapsed yoreself right on Maria’s porch. It’s a good thing Arturo and Juan had just ridden up. They helped us carry you in here. Son, you may not have your full growth, but you’re way too heavy for me and Maria.”

  “Thirsty,” Clay said.

  “Maria, bring some water in here for the boy,” Rud yelled.

  Moments later, Maria came swishing into the room with a pitcher of water and a glass. She poured the glass full, set the pitcher down on the side table next to the bed, and sat on the edge of the bed. Clay slid farther away from her, the sudden movement causing the stabbing pain in his side. “Maria. I don’t have any clothes on. Who took my clothes off?”

  Maria giggled and said, “Señor Clay, I was married with three sons. You show me nothing new.” She leaned forward with the glass to help him drink.

  “I can do it,” Clay said, and took the glass. The water was cool spring water, and it felt good going down. He emptied the glass. “More.”

  “You are thirsty, that is good,” she said, and poured him another glass.

  After he finished, he gave her a sheepish grin. “Thanks. I’m not used to being undressed by a woman.” He turned to Rud to change the subject. “How long have I been here?”

  “Son, you were hit pretty bad. The doctor didn’t know if the bleeding was going to stop. You messed up a pile of Maria’s sheets, what with the blood all over them.”

  Clay turned to Maria. “Sorry.”

  “It is nothing, Señor Clay. I washed them quickly, and all the blood came out.”

  “I’ll be glad to pay for any damages.”

  “Do not worry, Señor. I am only glad you are awake. We were very worried.”

  “As I was saying,” Rud said, “you bled for quite a while. It was touch and go. Diana stayed for a couple of days, until her pa made her go home.”

  Clay had a horrible thought. “Did she see me like this?”

  Maria laughed again. “No, Señor Clay. She sat with you, but you were covered, all the time.”

  “If I could finish my story,” Rud said. “Maria finally chased the doctor away and put some stuff on your wounds that stopped the bleeding. You talk about stink. It was a good thing you was asleep, or you wouldn’t of let her put it on you. But it worked.”

  “Thanks, Maria. Sounds like I owe you my life.”

  “You have a strong soul, Señor. I also believe you were looked after.” Maria stopped, looked toward the ceiling, and made the sign of the cross. “Any other person bleeding like that would have died. I don’t know how you managed to walk here from the shooting. It is truly a miracle you are alive.”

  Clay felt drowsiness coming over him. “Reckon I might need to sleep.” The last thing he remembered was Maria’s brown hand snatching the glass from him.

  *

  It was dark when he opened his eyes again. The breeze was cool through the window. The house was quiet, but night sounds slipped into his bedroom. Two coyotes were serenading the hills. He could hear an armadillo snuffling along outside the window, looking for ants and grubs. Placing his hands on the bed, he pushed himself into a sitting position. He felt better. The pain in his side had subsided. It was still there, but now an ache, not stabbing. It felt good to be alive. Clay took a deep breath, wincing only slightly from the pain, and stretched his long arms. He thought of the violence that had happened since he left the homeplace.

  The revelation from Gideon disturbed him. Who could it have been who wanted his family dead? Mr. Hewitt came to mind, but he dismissed him quickly. Even though the man had offered to buy the ranch, the families were too close, and Hewitt was a good man. So, who then? He’d have to think on that. He sat in the bed for a few minutes longer, until sleep overcame him. He eased back under the sheets and drifted off.

  *

  Clay woke with the rooster crowing and dawn breaking—time for him to get moving. He could hear Maria rustling in the kitchen, and hunger slammed into him. Maria had moved the chair with his clothes closer. He swung his long legs out of bed and stood. He felt fine. A little ache in his side, but not bad. Clay got dressed and started to slip his boots on. All of his money was still in his boots. He pulled them on, tucking his trousers into his socks first. Walking from his room, he found Maria in the kitchen.

  “Morning, Maria.”

  She jumped and turned to him, a big smile lighting her face. “Good morning, Señor Clay. You look good. How do you feel?”

  “Like I could eat every piece of food you have in this kitchen.”

  Maria laughed. “That can be arranged, Señor.”

  “Maria, since you’ve seen more of me than I’d like, don’t you think it’s about time you dropped the Señor?”

  Her laughter rang throughout the house. “Si, Clay, you could be right. Now, go sit down and I’ll get some eggs whipped up. Would five do for a start?”

  “Sounds like a perfect start,” Clay said, as he seated himself at the big dining room table.

  Maria brought eggs and beans with hot tortillas into the dining room and set them before Clay.

  “You have any other guests, Maria?”

  “No, Clay, I do not.”

  “Good, would you mind joining me and telling me what’s happened and how long I’ve been out?”

  Maria sat across from Clay, picked up a tortilla, and smeared it with fresh butter. Half of it disappeared into her mouth. She chewed for a moment, and, talking around the tortilla, said, “You have been asleep for five days. When you awoke the first time, you had been sleeping for four days. I am glad to see you up.”

  “I seem to remember Don Carlos riding up just before I passed out.”

  “Si, he did. Arturo, Juan, and the little Diana were with him. They helped get you into the bedroom.”

  Clay looked up from the disappearing eggs on his plate. “They didn’t see me undressed?”

  Maria laughed again and said, “No, Clay, only me and the doctor. You can rest easy.”

  Clay grinned at her and said, “Just wonderin’.”

  “Si, Don Carlos and the little Diana were very worried about you. They had to drive the cattle back to the ranch, but Diana talked her father into letting her stay for two days. She stayed with you all the time. But then she had to leave. When you awoke the first time, Rud rode out and told them. He said they were very happy.”

  “Good, they’re nice folks.”

  “The don said that he owes you very much, and that you are always welcome at El Paraiso. He also gave me money to take care of your stay, much more than I need.”

  Clay started to object. Pa had taught him to pay his way.

  Maria held up her hand. “No, Clay. He said that this was little enough for what you had done.”

  Clay ate in silence, enjoying the taste of the food that had been set before him. Maria had brought out some jalapeño jelly that, spread on a tortilla with butter, danced on his tongue.

  “It is my turn for questions, Clay. How do you feel?”

  “I feel great. Little soreness in my side, but nothing that won’t let me ride.”

  “Perhaps you should wait a few more days before you leave.”

  “No, I’ve lain around long enough. Reckon I need to be on my way.”

  The door opened and Rud walked in. “Well, looky here. Son, you’re putting away tortillas like you ain’t never had one before. You must be feelin’ better.”

  “I am. I was just telling Maria that I’ll be heading back to Brackett today. Putting on the feed bag’s made me a new man.”

  “I imagine there ain’t no stoppin’ ya.” He pulled an envelope out of his vest pocket. “Marshal left this for ya.”
Rud sat down across from Clay.

  Clay opened the envelope. It included the reward for Zeke and the money for the stock and equipment. “I’m kinda surprised. Didn’t know if the marshal would pay up or not.”

  “He ain’t the best lawman in the world, that’s for sure. But I don’t reckon he has a hankerin’ to have the Rangers ride out and ask him if he paid you. That Jake and Major Jones are two tough hombres.”

  “Rud, the major offered me a job as a Ranger. Said they were starting back up next year, once Davis is out of office.”

  “I’ll be durned. That’s a right big honor, Son. It surely is. I’ll tell ya, though, they’ll be gettin’ a fine man, and I mean that. Just in the few days I’ve known you, you’ve growed a heap.”

  “Thanks, Rud. I’ve got to think on it. There’s a girl in Brackett. Don’t know what’ll happen, but I’ve got to think of her.”

  “You’re a young man, Son. Now this might be the perfect woman for you. But you make sure. Too many young folks, both the girls and boys, get wrapped up in this here love, and before they know it, they’re hitched. Then there’s kids and scraping for a living for the rest of their lives. Not saying it’s wrong. Just saying be sure.”

  Clay thought of Lynn’s black hair and those violet eyes swallowing him up.

  “And let me tell you,” Rudd continued, “pretty and handsome don’t cut it. Sure, it’s nice now, but when she’s got three or four kids hangin’ to her apron and you’ve got a potbelly, pretty and handsome fly out the window. So you just make sure there’s more to it than that. I’ve said my piece.”

  “Rud, quit carrying on so,” Maria said. “Clay can make up his own mind.”

  “You’re right, that’s just an opinion of an old man.”

  Clay slipped the envelope into his vest pocket and stood. “I’ve got to be going. Rud, Gideon Pinder told me that somebody hired him to kill my folks.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. I was hopin’ this was the end of it. Did he say who?”

  “No. I’ve a feelin’ that whoever it is only talked to Gideon. But I wanted to take a run at Zeke and see if he heard anything about it.”

  Rud stood. “That’s a good idea. Let’s get your gear. We’ll drop it off at the livery and head up to the marshal’s office. Zeke is still in there.” Rud grinned a malicious little grin and said, “I reckon he’s survived his coffee spill, though I think he’ll not be around anyone of the feminine persuasion for a while.”

  Clay laughed and headed back to the bedroom with Rud following. Rud said, “Brought your shotgun in—mighty interesting contraption. Also picked up your saddlebags.”

  Rud grabbed one set, and Clay picked up the other with his left hand, keeping the right free. Rud noticed. The two men walked to the front door, where Maria waited.

  “Clay,” she said, “I am going to miss you. Stop by anytime you’re in this country. I’ll always have a place for you.” Tears welled up in her eyes, and she grabbed him in a bear hug.

  He hugged her for a moment. Then he opened the door. “Thanks, Maria. I’ll remember that. You take care of yourself, and if you ever need help, send a message. I’ll be here.”

  The two men dropped the gear in the livery and walked up to the marshal’s office. Marshal Taylor was behind his desk when they entered.

  He looked up. “You look a sight better than you did a few days ago. Did you get your money?”

  “I did, Marshal, thanks. You mind if I talk to your prisoner for a few minutes?”

  “What for?”

  “I’m not going to kill him, Marshal, at least not yet. I just want to talk to him. In his cell.”

  “You’ll have to leave your guns with me.”

  Clay unfastened his gunbelt and handed it to the marshal. “Now?”

  The marshal unlocked the cell. Zeke Martin had been sitting on the edge of the single cot, inside his cell. He wasn’t happy about having Clay in the cell with him.

  “Hand me a chair, Marshal?” Clay asked.

  The marshal slid a chair across the room and handed it to Clay. He moved it into the cell and sat close to Zeke, facing him.

  “I’ve got a question for you, Zeke. It’d be to your advantage to answer it.”

  Zeke just stared at Clay.

  “Do you know who paid you to kill my folks?”

  Zeke shook his head, but said nothing.

  “Gideon didn’t tell you?”

  “Did you really gun down Quint and Gideon, both?”

  “Did you ever hear Gideon, maybe when he was drinking, mention a name or anything that would indicate who paid him?”

  “I could use a drink.”

  Clay gave Zeke a threatening look. “Would you like some coffee?”

  Zeke looked down at his lap, then back up at Clay. “No, sir, I don’t want no more coffee. I’m still sufferin’.”

  “Think real hard, Zeke.” Clay, his eyes narrowing, looked at Zeke’s lap.

  “I-I might’ve heard something. We were sitting around the fire, out at the camp. We wuz passin’ a bottle around. We’d been hittin’ it pretty hard, especially Gideon. He liked to spout those scriptures, but he sure had a taste for the bottle. Anyway, he mentioned something. I don’t remember rightly, but I think it was about his good friend the Uvalde banker.”

  Clay felt like he’d been slapped. Not Mr. Houston. The man had taken Pa’s money for years. Not much of it, though. What had Pa said to him? Don’t trust banks or bankers. Houston had been really nervous when Clay was in the bank. “You remember anything else?”

  Zeke just shook his head.

  “You’re sure he said, ‘Uvalde banker’?”

  “I am. I’m sure about that.”

  “Marshal, let me out of here.”

  “You find out what you wanted?” the marshal asked, while opening the cell door.

  “Maybe. Let’s go, Rud.” Clay picked up his gunbelt and put it on. “I’ve got to ride. Thanks, Marshal.”

  Clay strode out of the marshal’s office and stepped out toward the livery, his long legs eating distance.

  “Slow down, Clay. Can’t keep up with you with this bum leg.”

  Clay realized he had forgotten Rud. “Sorry. Zeke told me who paid the Pinder Gang.”

  “Who was it, boy?”

  “He said that when Gideon got drunk, he mentioned his friend the banker. The Uvalde banker, Rud. Why would a banker have Ma and Pa killed?”

  “Money, Clay. Did your pa owe him any money?”

  “No. He maintained an account, but kept very little money in it. Pa always said that banks and bankers couldn’t be trusted.”

  “How about your ranch? Is it worth anything?”

  Clay slid to a halt. “That’s it. Our ranch. We have a long run of the Frio River, with plenty of good grass. In fact, our neighbor wanted to buy it, but Pa would never sell. I don’t know what it’s worth now, but it sure is worth a lot more than it used to be, what with all the new folks moving in.”

  “That’s it, Clay. He probably figured with everyone dead, he could buy it up at auction.”

  Clay continued walking to the livery. Once there, he saddled up Blue.

  “Which one you want carryin’ the panniers, the sorrel or the buckskin?” Rud asked.

  “How about the sorrel, Rud. He’s been lazing around here for the past few days.”

  The horses were saddled and loaded. Clay stepped over to Rud and extended his hand. The old man shook it. “You take good care of yoreself, boy. You’re not healed good yet, so don’t do any hard work. Look forward to seeing you again.”

  Clay turned, stepped into the saddle, and gathered the reins for the other two horses. “Thanks, Rud. You’ve been a big help. Wish you’d let me pay you.”

  Rud chuckled and started moving to his chair. “Don Carlos done took care of that.” He sat down in his chair, leaned back, and as he pulled his hat over his eyes, he said, “Adios.”

  Clay nudged Blue and pointed him east toward Brackett and Uvalde. “Adios, amigo.�
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  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  The hills of Brackett came into view, shadows lengthening to the east. Clay had ridden hard. He pulled into Brackett and walked the horses toward the livery. He dismounted and tied the animals to the hitching rail at the water trough. All three horses drank deeply. The proprietor stepped out of the barn. “Put ’em up for the night?”

  “No, thanks. If you’d let ’em drink for a bit, then rub them down and give them some feed, I’ll pick them up in an hour or so.”

  “Traveling at night ain’t the safest way in these parts, bandits and Injuns here about.”

  “Thanks,” Clay said. “I’d be much obliged if you’d put their saddles back on in about an hour. Switch the saddle from the roan to the buckskin. What’ll I owe you?”

  “Four bits’ll do, Mister. They’ll be ready.”

  Clay turned and started walking toward the Killganans’ house. He was opening the gate when Mrs. Killganan came to the door. “Clay, it’s so good to see you.”

  He walked up to the porch as she came down the steps and paused for a moment. “Clay, you look different. Somehow, older. Are you all right?”

  He smiled down at her. “Yes, ma’am, I reckon I am. Is Lynn around?”

  Her face clouded a bit. “Clay, we heard that you had killed three men. Is that true?”

  He felt the pain of her sad, accusing look. “No, ma’am, it’s not true.”