The Devil's Waltz

by Ethan J. Wolfe

  “How long does he stay when he shows up?”

  “Sometimes a week, sometimes less.”

  “Can you remember the times when he was here?” Posey asked. “The months or weeks and how long he stayed.”

  “Late March or early April, and the time before that was January,” Joseph said. “Before that was November last. After that, I can’t remember the month.”

  “Thank you, Joseph,” Posey said. “Let’s go back to town.”

  The small village was coming to life when Posey and Joseph returned as late afternoon gave way to early evening.

  “Joseph, is there someplace I can wash and change my shirt?” Posey asked. “I will be having supper with Pilar and her family.”

  “In back of the cantina,” Joseph said. “I will have them bring you fresh water to shave and wash.”

  “Thank you, Joseph.”

  Posey shaved, washed, and changed his shirt. He retrieved his horse from the hitching post at the cantina and found Joseph talking with some men at the fountain.

  “Is there a place I can sleep tonight?” Posey asked Joseph.

  “There is a room behind the cantina,” Joseph said. “It will be ready when you return.”

  “Thank you, Joseph,” Posey said and rode east.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  * * *

  Posey arrived at Pilar’s farmhouse near dusk. It was a two-story cabin that must have taken years to construct. A wide porch and railing dominated the front of the house. It was more in the style of a house you saw in Texas than in Mexico. A corral with two mules stood to the left near a wide barn.

  Lanterns glowed in the windows.

  Posey dismounted and tied his horse to the corral. Pilar was waiting for him on the porch. She was seated in a rocking chair and stood when he came up the steps.

  Her dark hair hung loose, down around her shoulders. She wore a simple black dress that had lace around the neckline with plain shoes, yet she appeared beautiful and elegant despite the swollen bruise.

  “Please come inside and meet my brothers and father,” Pilar said.

  Pilar opened the screen door and Posey followed her into the house. The interior was rustic and simple, not unlike a thousand such homes Posey saw scattered across the American plains. The furniture appeared all homemade. A stone fireplace was centered in the living room.

  “We take our meals in the kitchen,” Pilar said.

  Pilar led Posey into the kitchen where her father and two brothers sat at a long wood table.

  “The tall one is Roberto,” Pilar said. “He is eighteen. Call him Robert. The small one is Carlos. He is fourteen. Call him Charlie.”

  Posey removed his hat and nodded. “Robert and Charlie it is,” he said.

  “They speak English as well,” Pilar said. “I taught them both when they were children.”

  Pilar walked to her father and stood behind his chair.

  “May I present my father, Jose Lorenzo Lobos,” Pilar said. “He also speaks English very well, although it annoys him to do so.”

  “I apologize, Mr. Lobos, my Spanish is very poor,” Posey said.

  “I will speak English to the man who saved my daughter’s honor and her life,” Jose said. “Please sit at my table.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Posey said.

  Posey took one of two vacant chairs at the table.

  Pilar went to the woodstove and began to serve the meal of rice and beans with corn, beef with flat bread, and wine for the adults, milk for Robert and Charlie. Then she took the chair next to Posey.

  Jose bowed his head and recited grace in Spanish and then English.

  “Please forgive my inquisitive nature, Marshal, but when it concerns my daughter I must ask,” Jose said. “Did you kill those men before they violated her?”

  “Papa, that is no question for the dinner table,” Pilar said.

  Posey noticed her skin flushed and her eyes darkened when she was angry.

  “You were unconscious, so how would you know?” Jose said to Pilar.

  “Mr. Lobos, rest assured, I killed them before they got the chance,” Posey said.

  Jose nodded. “I am grateful to God for that,” he said.

  “I wish I was there,” Robert said. “I would have stopped them.”

  “Me, too,” Charlie said.

  “They would have killed the both of you little mice,” Pilar said. “Now, no more talk of killing while we eat.”

  “Marshal, try the wine,” Jose said. “It is quite good.”

  “It is Mexican coffee,” Pilar said. “Very strong. I added some sugar and condensed milk.”

  They were seated in chairs on the front porch after supper.

  Posey sampled the coffee. “It’s very good.”

  “It occurred to me that I haven’t thanked you for saving my life,” Pilar said.

  “I think dinner did that,” Posey said. He pulled out his tobacco pouch and looked at Pilar. “Do you mind?”

  “No, go ahead.”

  Posey rolled a cigarette and lit it with a wood match.

  “Tom Spooner has managed to evade the law for many years, even though lawmen across the country are hunting him,” Posey said. “I figure he has a secret place he uses as a hideout. I was told that he is sweet on you and crosses the border to see you. That’s why I was riding past your cornfield this morning, to see you.”

  Pilar sipped coffee and then smiled softly at Posey. “And you saw a lot more of me than you expected to see,” she said.

  Posey felt himself grin. “I did my best not to look when I covered you in my blanket.”

  “I don’t believe you, but thank you for saying it,” Pilar said.

  “So what can you tell me?” Posey asked.

  “Several years ago, Spooner and his men showed up after they robbed a bank in Texas,” Pilar said. “They were running from the law, crossed the river, and found Nuevo by accident. We are a poor village without protection, and they stayed and took what they wanted and did what they wanted. I was in the town square that day and Spooner saw me. I was married but one week. His name was Tomas Escalante and he was a good man. His family has a farm south of the village. You met his father. His name is Joseph.”

  Posey closed his eyes for a moment. “Yes,” he said. “What happened to Tomas?”

  “Spooner grabbed me in the town square and Tomas hit him,” Pilar said. “Spooner shot him three times in the chest. We buried him on Joseph’s farm. The next day, Spooner and his men left.”

  “How many men?”

  “Sometimes twenty, sometimes more.”

  “When he came back the next time, what happened?”

  “It was months later,” Pilar said. “They returned, and Spooner said I was to be his woman or he would kill everybody in the village and burn it down.”

  Pilar sipped from her cup and then made eye contact with Posey. “I figured it was better to have him put his hands on me than murder innocent people.”

  Posey nodded.

  “Has he ever sent scouts to the village before?”

  “Yes. I believe when he is going to rob a bank near the border, he will come here to hide for a while,” Pilar said. “Sometimes I hear his men talking.”

  “When those men I killed don’t return, he will send more to find out what happened,” Posey said.

  “I know,” Pilar said.

  “Would you have any idea where Spooner’s hideout might be?” Posey asked. “Even a general location or area.”

  “I’ve heard them speak of Wyoming,” Pilar said.

  “Wyoming’s a big territory,” Posey said.

  “It’s all I know,” Pilar said.

  “Well, it’s more than I knew this morning.”

  “Wait, you just can’t ride away in the morning,” Pilar said. “He will send more men when those four don’t return. You said that yourself. They will murder innocent people and burn the village.”

  “It could take days for them to show up,” Posey said. “Wyoming is�
�. . .”

  “Wyoming isn’t going anyplace,” Pilar said angrily. “It will still be there in another week or so. Yes?”

  Posey looked at Pilar’s coal-black eyes, which blazed with anger, and he sighed. “Yes.”

  “We will hold a village meeting in the morning,” Pilar said, her eyes softening.

  “After breakfast, I hope?” Posey said.

  “Yes, of course,” Pilar said.

  “Well, I best get to town,” Posey said. “Joseph said I could sleep in the room behind the cantina.”

  “People meet at seven in the square to use the mill,” Pilar said. “The cantina serves breakfast at seven-thirty. I will be there at eight to start the meeting.”

  Posey stood up and said, “Then I’ll see you in the morning.”

  He left the porch and walked to the corral where he mounted his horse. Before riding away, Posey looked back at the porch. Pilar was standing, watching him in the light of a wall-mounted lantern.

  Framed by the soft, flickering light, she looked beautiful.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  * * *

  Posey awoke around six-thirty to find a fresh basin of water with a towel waiting for him right outside the door. As he washed his face, he could hear people speaking Spanish in front of the cantina.

  He didn’t have a clean shirt and wore the one from the day before. After holstering his Colt, Posey went to the front of the cantina. A dozen or more farmers were at the mill where the mule powered the grinding stone by walking a harness attached to a long log in a tight circle.

  Mule-driven carts of corn and wheat were lined up at the mill.

  Joseph broke away from the group and approached Posey.

  “Marshal, come into the cantina and have some breakfast,” Joseph said.

  Posey followed Joseph into the cantina. Every table was occupied except one.

  “Please sit. I told them to hold a table for you,” Joseph said.

  “Will you join me in breakfast?” Posey said. “I hate to eat alone.”

  “Thank you, Marshal, I will,” Joseph said.

  A woman came to the table and Joseph spoke to her in Spanish. She nodded and went into the kitchen.

  “The town square is always like this on days when the mill is used,” Joseph said. “They come from miles around and it’s an all-day event.”

  “I heard about you son,” Posey said. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “One day Spooner will pay for his crimes,” Joseph said. “In this life or the next.”

  The woman returned with two large mugs of coffee.

  “I told her to add sugar and condensed milk,” Joseph said.

  Posey nodded and took a sip. “Do you have other children, a wife?” he asked.

  “I have three other sons,” Joseph said. “They will be men soon. My wife died three years ago from . . . what is the word. Disease of the lung.”

  “Tuberculosis?”

  “Yes, tuberculosis,” Joseph said.

  “You have a hard life down here,” Posey said.

  “Yes hard, but also a good life,” Joseph said. “People in our village care for each other and we share in the crops and livestock. We lack for nothing to live on that our land doesn’t supply.”

  “How is it you speak English so well?” Posey asked.

  “I was born in Texas when it was still part of Mexico,” Joseph said. “I was a small boy, but I learned English in school as well as Spanish. My family moved across the Grande in ’forty-five because they didn’t want to live in Texas anymore after it became a state. They moved us here, and here we stayed.”

  The woman returned with a large tray of food. Scrambled eggs with rice and beans, flat bread, and a bottle of hot sauce.

  “The sauce is very hot, so just use a little,” Joseph said.

  Posey sprinkled a bit of sauce on his eggs, rice, and beans and then tasted it. “Yes it is, but good,” he said.

  “Eat,” Joseph said.

  Posey dug in and said, “Pilar is coming to town at eight this morning. She wants to have a village meeting. Will you act as my translator?”

  “I will,” Joseph said.

  “Good.”

  A few minutes before eight, Posey stood in front of the cantina with a cup of coffee and a cigarette. There was much arguing and laughter among the men. Women worked to unload carts and fill woven baskets with milled grain.

  Walking, Pilar arrived at the town square. She wore black pants, a white shirt, black boots, and a black Stetson hat. The bruise on her face was barely noticeable. She spotted Posey and walked to him.

  “Good morning, Marshal,” she said.

  “Morning,” Posey said. “I see you’re a quick healer.”

  Pilar touched her cheek. “It’s amazing what a bit of face powder can do.”

  “How many of these people speak English?”

  “Some. Not many.”

  “Get their attention,” Posey said. “I’ve asked Joseph to translate for me.”

  Pilar nodded and then walked to the fountain and stood on the wall. She spoke loudly in Spanish, and slowly the men and women around the mill stopped what they were doing and migrated to the fountain.

  Posey walked to the crowd and looked at Joseph.

  “Translate for me,” Posey said.

  “I’m United States Marshal Jack Posey and, as some of you know, I killed four of the outlaw Tom Spooner’s men yesterday,” Posey said and Joseph translated. “I believe that when those four men don’t return to the outlaw Spooner, he will send more to find out what happened to them.”

  After Joseph translated, the crowd began to buzz and speak wildly.

  “Please, please, allow me to finish,” Posey said.

  Joseph translated and they quieted down.

  “I am willing to stay and help when the new men arrive, but you must listen to me and do as I ask,” Posey said.

  Joseph translated and the crowd responded by speaking rapidly at him.

  To Posey, Joseph said, “They want to know how you will help.”

  “Tell them that when Spooner’s men show up, I will kill them,” Posey said. “And that after these men are dead, I believe Spooner will send no more men.”

  As Joseph translated, Pilar walked to Posey and stood next to him.

  “They want to know how you will do this and how can they help?” Joseph said.

  “Tell them I will let them know,” Posey said.

  Joseph translated and then walked to Posey.

  Posey said, “Let’s go in the cantina and have a cup of coffee.”

  Posey took a sip of coffee and then said, “Joseph, does anybody in the village have guns?”

  “Guns? Some of us have rifles,” Joseph said.

  “Good. Pilar, how far would you say it is from your cornfield to the center of the village?” Posey asked.

  “Two miles, maybe a bit more.”

  “When Spooner’s men ride across the border, do they always pass your field?”

  “It’s the shortest route,” Pilar said.

  “We need to find out the time it takes to ride a horse at a normal pace from your field to the village,” Posey said.

  “Why?” Pilar asked.

  “Because they won’t be traveling on foot,” Posey said. “Joseph, gather together your guns and meet us at the town square when Pilar and I return.”

  “Return from where?” Pilar said.

  From the saddle, Posey reached down and took hold of Pilar’s right hand and pulled her up behind him.

  Then he pulled out his pocket watch, gave the stem a few turns to wind it, checked the time, and put it away.

  He gave the reins a tug and the horse moved forward.

  “They might be in a bit of a hurry, but I doubt they will be running flat out,” Posey said.

  Pilar wrapped her arms around Posey’s waist. The man was all solid muscle. “I don’t see what that matters,” she said.

  “Like in war, surprise and timing is everything,�
� Posey said.

  Traveling at a medium speed, they arrived at Pilar’s cornfield in about fifteen minutes.

  Posey turned the horse and headed to Pilar’s home.

  “Why are we going to my home?” she asked.

  “I need to speak with your family,” Posey said.

  “Yes, I can do that,” Jose said.

  “We can help,” Robert said.

  “Yes, Papa, we can help.” Charlie echoed his brother.

  They were on the porch of Pilar’s farmhouse.

  “And while I am waiting in the cornfield, who is doing all the work on the farm?” Jose said.

  “Do you have a watch?” Posey asked.

  “Yes,” Jose said.

  “Make sure you wait seven and a half minutes,” Posey said.

  Jose nodded. “I will be there before dawn,” he said.

  “Good.”

  “What about me?” Pilar said.

  “You stay here with your brothers,” Posey said.

  “Spooner’s men don’t frighten me,” Pilar said.

  “Maybe not, but bullets should,” Posey said.

  Pilar glared at Posey as he stepped off the porch and mounted his horse.

  “By the way, Mr. Lobos, do you have a gun?” Posey asked.

  “No, not for a long time now,” Jose said.

  “Well, you shouldn’t need one,” Posey said and gave the reins a yank.

  Posey met Joseph in the town square.

  “I have the rifles inside the cantina,” Joseph said.

  “Lead the way,” Posey said.

  In a storeroom behind the kitchen, eleven Civil War muskets were stacked neatly against the wall.

  Posey lifted one and inspected it.

  “Joseph, these are Civil War muskets,” he said. “The hammers and triggers are rusted solid. They’re useless.”

  “It’s just as well, as we have no powder and balls,” Joseph said.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Posey said. “Let’s have some coffee, and I’ll tell you what I need you to do.”

  They went inside to a table and Joseph ordered two cups of coffee.

  “When I give the signal, you take everybody who happens to be in the town square, at the mill, the cantina, and everywhere else, and lock them inside the church,” Posey said. “The windows and door are wood and will burn, but those adobe walls are near fireproof. Does it lock from the inside?”