Blood Ties: A Texas Ranger Will Kirkpatrick Novel

by James J. Griffin

  “Jonas fought with him, they struggled, and when Jonas attempted to wrest my gun from Kyle’s grasp, it went off. The bullet penetrated Kyle’s belly, went through his pelvis and exited from his groin, then lodged in his right leg. The slug apparently penetrated a major artery or vein in the leg, because Kyle rapidly bled to death. He died almost instantly. He would have died in any case, bein’ gut-shot at point blank range.

  “Jonas could have killed me on the spot. Instead, he gave me back my gun, and told me he was through being an outlaw. So he’s here, on trial for armed robbery, when he could easily have fled to Mexico or the Indian Territories.”

  “Let me get this straight, Ranger. I’d like a few more details, if you wouldn’t mind providing them. You stated Jonas prevented his cousin Kyle from shooting you. Are you saying this young man, on trial here, saved your life?”

  “Yes, he did.”

  “I would like to hear the specifics of everything that led up to his doing that, if you wouldn’t mind, Ranger.”

  “Not at all. Although, it’s kind of embarrassing, since I made a damn greenhorn mistake. When I was gettin’ Kyle mounted on his horse, he jerked the animal’s reins, causing it to stumble into him. He started to fall, or so I thought, and I made the mistake of instinctively trying to catch him. When I did, he spun and kneed me right in my nu… um, my horse chestnuts.”

  “Quiet,” Huttwelker ordered, when the spectators broke into laughter.

  “Continue, Ranger. And please refrain from cursing in my courtroom.”

  “I’m sorry, Your Honor. Needless to say, I was helpless with the pain. I dropped my gun, went down, and curled up in a ball. Kyle picked up my gun and was gonna plug me. There wasn’t a thing I could do to stop him. But, even though he was still handcuffed, Jonas jumped him before he could pull the trigger. When he and Kyle fought for the gun, it went off.

  “Luckily for both me and Jonas, Kyle took the slug. I figured for certain that Jonas then intended to kill me. In fact, I told him to plug me and get it over with. He shook his head, said he meant it when he told me he was through with bein’ an outlaw. He put my gun down, and soon as I was able, he helped me stand up. Once as I was ready to ride, we started for Pecos. He gave me no trouble the entire trip, nor did he give the sheriff or deputies any problems when he was jailed.”

  “I see,” Huttwelker said. “I take it you are saying the young man’s actions during and since his arrest should be taken into consideration when I hand down his sentence.”

  “I am, Your Honor. I’d hate to see a young man like Jonas sent to Huntsville for a long prison term. I’m sure you’re aware what would happen to him there. He’d have to fight every day for survival, and most likely as not would come out a hardened criminal, if he lived to be released at all. Very few men who are sentenced to Huntsville turn their lives around, and become honest citizens.”

  “I am indeed familiar with the conditions at Huntsville State Prison, Ranger Kirkpatrick. And, as you say, Mr. Peterson’s actions with you are mitigating circumstances that should indeed be taken into consideration. However, they do not excuse the fact he did participate in an armed robbery. It’s quite possible, if the driver, shotgun guard, or any of the passengers on the stage had attempted to resist, there might very well have been murder committed.”

  “I know that, Your Honor. However, the fact remains, there were no shots fired, Jonas cooperated with me at all times, and in fact, as I’ve mentioned more than once, he did save my life. He also could have escaped, but made no attempt to do so. I did forget to mention he also told me where to find the stolen money and passengers’ possessions, when his cousin Kyle refused to do so. I realize some kind of punishment is in order. So does Jonas. However, I am asking if he has to spend time in jail, he be allowed to serve his sentence right here in the Reeves County lockup.”

  “I understand your concerns, Ranger, and will certainly take them under advisement,” Huttwelker said. “Do you have anything further to say?”

  “Only that Sheriff Pettengill and Deputy Hardy’ll also vouch for Jonas, if you’d like to add their testimony to the record,” Will answered.

  “I don’t believe that will be necessary,” Huttwelker answered. “You’re dismissed, Ranger. But you are still under oath.”

  “Thank you, Your Honor. I’m obliged.”

  “I’ve heard all the testimony I need to make a decision in this case,” Huttwelker said, once Will had returned to his seat. “Jonas Peterson, if you would stand.”

  “Yes, Your—Your Honor, sir,” Jonas answered, stammering in his fear. He came to his feet.

  “Jonas Peterson, first, I am going to ask you one final time, are you pleading guilty to the robbery of the San Angelo-Fort Stockton-Pecos Wells Fargo stage?”

  “I am, Your Honor.”

  “Then I am ready to impose sentence,” Huttwelker said. “I have heard the law officer who arrested you, Texas Ranger Will Kirkpatrick, speak very highly on your behalf. I have no doubt, if, as Ranger Kirkpatrick testified, under oath, you had not taken the actions you did, Ranger Kirkpatrick would indeed have been shot dead by your cousin, Kyle Peterson. Your own sworn testimony has also convinced me that you were an unwilling, or at least reluctant, participant in the crime. However, nonetheless, a serious crime was committed, one in which you took part. Justice demands you must be subjected to punishment for that crime. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes, Judge—I mean, Your Honor.”

  Jonas’s shoulders sagged, and his eyes welled up with tears.

  “The minimum sentence for the crime of armed robbery is five years,” Huttwelker said. “Therefore, I am sentencing you to five years in state prison. However, due to the extenuating circumstances, first, your being pressured and threatened by your cousins, second, the assistance you provided to Ranger Kirkpatrick, preventing his murder and assuring Kyle Peterson was not able to escape justice, I am suspending the sentence. That means, as long as you obey the terms of the sentence and keep out of trouble, you will spend no time behind bars.”

  “Thank you, Your Honor.” Jonas’s voice broke.

  “Let me finish,” Huttwelker said. “As a condition of your sentence, you will be placed on probation for one year. For that year, you will be in the custody of Texas Ranger William Kirkpatrick. Do you understand?”

  “I…I’m not certain, Your Honor.”

  “That means you must remain with Ranger Kirkpatrick, or be where he can keep in contact with you, and know your whereabouts, at all times.”

  Will sprang to his feet. “Hold on just a damn minute, Judge, before you saddle me with this!”

  “Yes, Ranger Kirkpatrick? You do realize you’re out of order? And that you just cursed in my courtroom, for the second time?” Huttwelker said, his displeasure at being interrupted clear in the tone of his voice.

  “I guess I am, and I apologize, Your Honor,” Will said.

  “Apology accepted. Speak your piece, Ranger.”

  “I can’t babysit Jonas for a whole year, much as I’d like to help the kid,” Will said. “I’m a da… um, dang Texas Ranger. I don’t know where I’ll be from one day to the next, let alone whether or not I’ll even live through a day. I can’t have Jonas traipsin’ along with me everywhere I go. And I sure can’t keep an eye on him when I’m tryin’ to arrest an outlaw, or worse yet in a gunfight with a band of renegades. It’d be impossible.”

  “I understand your objections, Ranger; nevertheless, those are my terms. Either you assume custody and responsibility for Mr. Peterson, or he goes to state prison for five years.”

  “But exactly how am I supposed to do that, and my job?” Will objected. “I’d be worried all the time he might catch a slug meant for me.”

  “I don’t know, but you’ll have to figure that out, if you want the boy to have a chance. You yourself are the one who said he didn’t deserve to be sentenced to prison, that he should be given a chance to turn his life around. My opinion is, to be given that chance, he needs the p
roper guidance. My feeling is you are that proper guidance.”

  “But, exactly how do you think I’ll be able to pull that off?” Will asked.

  “Again, I don’t know,” Huttwelker answered. “Hell, make him a damn Texas Ranger. The outfit is always short of men. And I know plenty of good lawmen who started out on the wrong side of the badge…including a number of Rangers.”

  A few of the spectators burst into soft snickers at hearing Huttwelker curse, just after he had scolded Will for doing the exact same thing.

  “Order,” Huttwelker said, slamming his gavel for emphasis. “Ranger, what about that idea?”

  “Mebbe it’d work if Jonas was old enough, Judge,” Will conceded, “but he’s still a boy. And I’d have to clear it with my captain. I don’t have the authority to sign on a new man, just to temporarily deputize one.”

  Huttwelker turned his attention back to Jonas.

  “Mr. Peterson?” he said.

  “Yes, Your Honor?”

  The hope which had flared in Jonas’s eyes, when he’d thought there was a chance he would not be going to prison, had been replaced by a look of total dejection.

  “How old are you, son?”

  “I turned eighteen two months ago, Your Honor,” Jonas answered. “The date’s written in my ma’s Bible, which is still in my saddlebags, unless someone took my stuff from the livery stable. That Bible is all I have left to remember my ma and pa by.”

  “There you have it, Ranger,” Huttwelker said to Will. “He might not look it, but the boy’s eighteen, old enough to enlist with the Rangers. As far as your not being able to enlist a man, once court is over for the day, I’ll prepare and sign a letter for your commanding officer, explaining the reasons for my decision. Will that be satisfactory?”

  Will rubbed his jaw before replying. “I reckon it will, Your Honor. The only thing I’d ask you to add would be that, if anythin’ should happen to me, or if for some reason I receive an assignment where it would be impossible for Jonas to stick with me, that Captain Hunter will be allowed to place him in the custody of any available man.”

  “That’s reasonable, and prudent, considering the somewhat short life expectancy of any lawman, particularly a Ranger,” Huttwelker agreed. “Jonas Peterson, I accept your guilty plea to the charge of armed robbery, and hereby sentence you to five years in state prison, aforesaid sentence to be suspended. You are also placed on probation for one year, in the custody of Texas Ranger William Fitzpatrick, or any other Ranger his commanding officer chooses. You are also to join the Texas Rangers, pending approval of… What is your commanding officer’s name, Ranger Kirkpatrick?”

  “Captain Paul Hunter.”

  “Captain Paul Hunter. If Captain Hunter does not agree, or if you violate any terms of your probation, you will be taken into custody immediately, and sent to Huntsville State Prison for the full five years. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Your Honor,” Jonas answered. “I’ll do as you say. I sure don’t want to spend five years behind bars.”

  “Fine,” Huttwelker said. “You understand, young man, I am giving you a chance to turn your life around, and an opportunity to make something of yourself. I have never before let anyone who has come before my bench on such a serious charge off so lightly. The only reason I have chosen to do so in your case is the testimony of Ranger Kirkpatrick, and the willingness of Sheriff Pettengill and Deputy Hardy to also vouch for you. In addition, I, too, sense you are a decent individual, who was led by bad companions into a terrible mistake. Don’t show us that we were all wrong about you.”

  “I sure won’t, Your Honor,” Jonas answered. “I promise you that.”

  “That’s all I ask,” Huttwelker said. “Remain here in this courtroom until I end the morning session for dinner. I’ll prepare the letter at that time. That’s all. Next case.”

  Jonas returned to his seat next to Will, and sat down. He gave an audible sigh of relief.

  “Ranger, thanks for stickin’ up for me,” he whispered to Will. “I won’t let you down.”

  “I hope not,” Will said. “You ain’t found out yet what you let yourself in for, yet. Once you start chasin’ outlaws, and they start shootin’ back at you, you just might wish you’d taken the five years in Huntsville.”

  He grinned, trying to reassure the boy, but Jonas could tell Will was deadly serious. Becoming a Texas Ranger just might be the toughest choice he’d ever made. However, facing five years in Huntsville instead, he knew he didn’t have any choice at all.

  ****

  “What do we do now?” Jonas asked Will, as they walked out of the courthouse. Will had folded the letter signed by Judge Huttwelker and shoved it in his vest pocket.

  “We’ll stop by the telegraph office and see if there’s a reply to my wire to Headquarters,” Will answered. “After that, Jonas, I figure on stoppin’ at the closet saloon and havin’ a couple of beers. Mebbe with any luck, I’ll be able to talk the barkeep into fixin’ us some ham and eggs or somethin’. I dunno about you, but my stomach can’t take another meal from that café.”

  “Mine can’t, either,” Jonas agreed. “Not that I was able to eat all that much, what with worryin’ about was was gonna happen to me. Now that I know, my belly’s grumblin’ that it ain’t been filled, but I don’t want it feelin’ like I swallowed a brick, neither. Like it did last night.”

  “Well, everythin’ ain’t quite settled yet,” Will reminded him, as they started down the street. “I’ve still gotta convince Cap’n Hunter to take you on.”

  “Do you think that’ll be a problem?” Jonas asked. “After all, it’s only my whole life you’re talkin’ about.”

  Will shook his head.

  “Nah. It won’t be. The Rangers are usually short a few hombres. It’s hard to recruit men who’ll work for low pay, bacon and beans, and ammunition, just to get shot at by renegades who’ll do whatever they need to keep out of jail. Everythin’ else, horse, clothes, guns, whatever, comes out of our pockets. The state will replace your horse if it gets shot, but that’s about it. The hard part, for you, begins after you’re sworn in. That’s when we’ll find out whether you’ve got the stuff to stick as a Ranger.”

  “Do you think I’ll be able to?” Jonas asked.

  “I dunno. There’s no way to tell until your first real confrontation with a band of desperadoes,” Will answered. “You showed a lot of sand when you stood up to Kyle, and when you didn’t plug me and run when you had the chance. It took a lot of guts to turn yourself in, too. I’d say you’ll do just fine.”

  He pointed to a chipped adobe building half a block away, sporting a freshly painted sign which read “Cactus Cal’s Saloon” in bright green letters. A painting of a prickly pear cactus in full bloom was the most prominent feature of the sign, the plant’s brilliant yellow blossoms complementing nicely the tan of the adobe. “Meantime, there’s our saloon. And here comes the Western Union operator. Seems like we won’t have to stop at the telegraph office after all.”

  The clerk was hurrying toward Will and Jonas, waving a thin sheet of yellow paper.

  “Ranger! I’ve got the reply to your wire,” he shouted. He was puffing for breath by the time he reached the two men. “I’m glad I found you, since I knew it was urgent you received the answer the moment it came in.”

  He shoved the yellow flimsy into Will’s hand.

  “I’m obliged,” Will said. He dug in his pocket and handed the clerk a nickel. “Gracias.”

  “What’s it say?” Jonas asked, as Will scanned the contents of the brief message.

  “I’ve been ordered to return to Austin as fast as possible,” Will answered. He crumpled the paper and shoved it in his shirt pocket. “I’ll receive my next assignment there. Damn. I hate the thought of havin’ to go all the way back to Headquarters, then probably be sent right back out this way again. But, that’s probably gonna be for the best. I’d rather have Cap’n Hunter meet you in person, rather’n havin’ to try’n convince him by telegram t
o add you to the roster.

  “Well, now that that’s settled, we’ll have our beers, then wander over to the Texas and Pacific station to get tickets for ourselves on our horses on the next eastbound train. We’ll ride the T & P to Fort Worth, then take a local to Austin. It’ll take a couple of days, but that’s still better’n ten days hard ridin’. Let’s get those beers, and hopefully, some chuck. And since we’ll be ridin’ together, you might as well start callin’ me Will.”

  They headed inside Cactus Cal’s. It took a moment for their eyes to adjust to the dimly lit interior after the bright west Texas sun. The saloon wasn’t much different than any other west Texas barroom, with a long, mirror-backed bar, gambling tables, a small dance floor, and a beat-up piano. This time of the day, the place wasn’t busy. A couple of percentage girls lounged in one corner, sipping at glasses of tea. They wouldn’t begin on watered down drinks until the evening crowd began to arrive. Other than the two women, the only other occupants were a black swamper, who was mopping the floor and spreading fresh sawdust, and the bartender, who looked up as Will and Jonas bellied up to the bar.

  “Howdy, gents,” he greeted. “I’m Cal Collins, the owner of this sorry establishment. What can I get you fellers?”

  “Two beers,” Will answered. “And if you have ’em, some ham and eggs. I can’t take another meal from that café where the sheriff gets his grub.”

  “You do need an iron stomach to down Sally’s cookin’,” Collins agreed, with a grin. “Say, I recognize you fellers now. You’re the Ranger who was in court this mornin’, and the young outlaw you brought in. It was mighty fine of you, Ranger, stickin’ up for this young’n, when you could have just let him spend the next few years behind bars.” He extended his right hand. “I’d like to shake your hand. You too, kid.”