“What about that boy?”
“He’ll be fine tonight.”
“There is no jail.”
“I know.”
“He can stay here with us until you decide what to do.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“Then I will ride back with you so he doesn’t have to walk.”
“I’ll bring him,” Posey said.
Pilar smiled. “Good, then you can stay for supper.”
Riding back to the village Posey felt almost sick to his stomach. When Pilar came up to the roof he had a moment of panic that was similar to that moment of anxiety right before a battle starts.
When he looked at her, he almost felt like he couldn’t breathe. Even his hands felt wet and clammy when she was close enough to touch.
Posey wondered if Dale felt that way about Sarah.
Maybe he would ask . . .
He reached the town square of the village and didn’t even realize it, he was so lost in thought.
Joseph and some other men were at the mill with Evan.
Posey dismounted at the fountain and walked to the mill.
“I’ve never seen a mill run by a donkey before,” Evan said.
“I expect there are many things you’ve never seen before,” Posey said. “We need to talk.”
Evan followed Posey to the fountain where they sat on the wall. Posey rolled a cigarette and lit it with a wood match.
“The job your uncle and Tom Spooner are planning must be close to the border, if they’re looking to hide out in Mexico,” Posey said.
“I reckon,” Even said. “I didn’t hear what the job was, but what you said must be so, or why else would they send men to check things out?”
“Where are they hiding out near the border?”
“You mean right now?”
“That’s what I mean.”
“Camped near the Pecos River maybe ten miles from Del Rio,” Evan said.
“That’s a two-day ride to Nuevo,” Posey said.
“About how long it took us.”
Posey smoked and thought for a moment.
“I’m going to wait several days to make sure they don’t show up here before I take you to Laredo,” Posey said.
“Spooner said to see why the men didn’t come back,” Evan said. “If nobody goes back, won’t he think something’s wrong and steer clear?”
“You never know what a man thinks when he’s on the run from the law,” Posey said. “You think he’s going to act one way, and he turns around and does the complete opposite. Understand?”
Evan nodded.
“Tell me about Tom Spooner and your uncle.”
“I can’t tell you much about Spooner,” Evan said. “When he ain’t talking with my uncle, he stays to himself mostly. The funny thing is, I seen him do mean things, terrible things, and he never sounds mean or angry. I seen him talk soft and smile while he beat a man to death by pistol whipping.”
“And your uncle?”
“My uncle is just plain mean to the bone,” Evan said. “He enjoys hurting folks and killing like it was some kind of game.”
“I hear he has poor eyesight,” Posey said.
“Stand a hundred feet in front of him and he’ll put a bullet in your eye slick as can be,” Evan said. “Past that, he can’t even see a barn right in front of him.”
“Why doesn’t he get some spectacles?” Posey asked.
“His poor eyes are a sore point with my uncle,” Even said. “If you even mention it, he’s likely to go crazy and shoot you down.”
Posey tossed the spent cigarette. “Do you remember the woman from the cantina? Her name is Pilar.”
Evan nodded. “She’s a nice lady, and she’s pretty.”
“Yes, she is,” Posey said. “I’m going to bring you to stay with her and her family until I’m ready to take you to Laredo. Is that okay with you?”
“Yes, sir,” Evan said.
“Don’t get any notions of running away,” Posey said. “I’d just track you down and our deal for a pardon would be off.”
“No sir, I won’t.”
“Do you have any gear?”
“On my saddle with my horse.”
“Then it’s already at the house,” Posey said. “I’ll give you a ride over on my horse.”
“This boy is an outlaw?” Jose said when Posey and Evan walked up to the porch.
“No, Papa, this boy is a boy,” Pilar said.
“He’s no bigger than me,” Charlie said.
“Be quiet, Charlie,” Pilar said. “I’ve heard Billy the Kid was a tiny mouse just like you.”
“I’m not an outlaw, sir,” Evan said. “My uncle is, and he forces me to ride with him. He killed my parents and took me out of school.”
Jose looked at Posey. “The boy can stay here until you need him,” he said.
“I appreciate it, Jose,” Posey said.
“Robert, Charlie, take Evan inside and show him where he sleeps,” Pilar said. “Then set the table for dinner.”
After supper, Posey, Pilar, and Jose sat in chairs on the porch, each with a mug of coffee. Posey rolled a cigarette.
“Make sure he doesn’t wander off,” Posey said.
“He will be safe,” Jose said.
“I think what might happen is after they pull whatever job they came to Texas to do, Spooner and Broussard will split up their men,” Posey said. “I think Spooner and Broussard will ride to their hideout and send the rest of his men here.”
“But why, after the others didn’t come back?” Pilar asked.
“Neither of them care about their men,” Posey said. “They care about money and how to steal it, and they don’t care who they have to kill to get it, even their own men. I can’t speak for Broussard, but Spooner is as smart as he is crazy. He probably figures the Federales are at the village and killed his men.”
“Then why send more?” Pilar asked.
“It makes it harder for the Texas Rangers to follow them if they’ve split up,” Posey said. “I doubt if Spooner or Broussard cares in the least if their men ride into a trap and are killed. It’s more loot for them and they can always recruit more men later on down the road when needed.”
“I read how Jesse James left his men to die after they robbed that bank in Minnesota,” Jose said.
“I see this about the same, except that Spooner knows his men will be riding into an ambush and just doesn’t care,” Posey said. “Jose, I’m afraid I’m going to ask you to light another signal fire.”
“When do you think they will come?” Jose asked.
“Tomorrow, maybe the next day, but soon,” Posey said.
“I will be ready,” Jose said.
“Pilar, can you ride to the village before dawn tomorrow? I’d like to give you a rifle and a pistol, just in case,” Posey said.
“I can ride back with you right now,” Pilar said. “I have no problem riding such a short distance in the dark.”
“Maybe that would be best,” Posey said. “They might be riding at dawn. I’ll saddle one of those horses.”
“It’s been a long day,” Posey said as he and Pilar rode to the village square and dismounted at the fountain.
Lights from the cantina spilled out to the otherwise dark street.
“I told Joseph to hide the guns in the church,” Posey said. “Is there some way to lock the door from the outside?”
“It only locks from the inside as far as I know,” Pilar said.
“We’ll need a light,” Posey said. “I’ll be right back.”
Posey went into the cantina where just a few tables were occupied.
“We are getting ready to close, Marshal,” the waitress said in broken English. “Would you like me to hold some food for you?”
“No, but I need to borrow a lantern from a table,” Posey said. “And if you could stay open a while, I’d appreciate it.”
“Very well, Marshal,” the woman said.
Posey took a lantern off a t
able. “I’ll bring this right back.”
Pilar was sitting on the church steps and stood up when Posey approached her with the lantern. “Do you know where a closet is?”
“Yes.”
Posey handed her the lantern. “Lead the way.”
Pilar opened the door to the church and stepped inside and Posey followed.
“Behind the altar,” Pilar said.
Her boots echoed loudly on the hardwood floor as she and Posey walked down the center aisle to the altar.
“The closet behind the altar where the priest used to keep the chalice and wine,” Pilar said.
Posey opened the closet door and Pilar brought the lantern closer.
Four Winchester rifles were stacked inside. Four gun belts were wrapped up on the floor. Boxes of ammunition sat on the floor.
Posey selected a rifle and box of ammunition. Then he checked each gun belt and chose a Schofield handgun over the Colt revolvers because the rifle and Schofield used the same ammunition.
“Let’s get these on the horse,” Posey said as he closed the closet door.
They returned to the horses, and Posey put the Winchester in the saddle sleeve and the ammunition in the saddlebags. He hung the Schofield by the holster over the saddle horn.
“The moon will be up soon,” Posey said. “I think you should wait until it’s light enough to see riding back.”
“I can find my way home with my eyes closed,” Pilar said. “But I will do as you ask.”
“I asked the cantina to stay open for me so we can wait for the moon to rise,” Posey said.
Pilar and Posey entered the cantina. All tables were empty now. Pilar set the lantern on a table as the woman came from out back.
“Pilar, what are you doing out so late?” she asked.
“She’s bringing something to her father for me,” Posey said. “I’d like to wait for the moon to rise, if that’s all right with you.”
“Of course. It won’t be long and I have some coffee left,” the woman said.
“We could use a cup,” Pilar said.
The woman went to the kitchen.
Posey pulled out his pouch and papers and rolled a cigarette. By the time he lit it with a wood match, the woman returned with two mugs of coffee.
“Thank you,” Posey said.
“I will be in the kitchen,” the woman said.
Posey took a sip of the hot, sweet coffee and looked at Pilar.
“Do you ever think about other things besides your work?” she asked.
“I don’t . . . I’m not sure I know what you mean,” Posey said.
“Do you have a woman back home?” Pilar asked.
“Actually, I don’t,” Posey said.
“Why not?”
“I guess it’s a question of time,” Posey said. “There never seems to be enough of it to do the things a man wants.”
“I see,” Pilar said. “And what is it that you want?”
Posey thought for a moment. “To go home,” he said.
“Where is home?”
“A little farm in Missouri near the Arkansas border,” Posey said. “Three hundred acres of prime bottomland that will grow anything. Good land for horses, too.”
“You are a farmer?” Pilar said, somewhat shocked.
“Used to be a long time ago,” Posey said. “Before the war.”
“I want to know more,” Pilar said.
The woman came from the kitchen. “The moon is up, Pilar,” she said.
“We best get you home,” Posey said.
Pilar stared at Posey for a moment. “Yes,” she finally said.
Posey walked her to the horses and he stood at the fountain and watched her ride away to her farm, her silhouette atop the horse fading into the distance in the soft moonlight.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
* * *
Posey climbed up to the rooftop of the church shortly before dawn. He brought the Winchester and Sharps rifles with him. The Sharps was fed one round at a time, and he loaded his shirt pocket with ammunition for the massive weapon.
As the sun rose, Posey felt weary and tired. Sleep escaped him last night. It seemed every time he drifted off, Pilar invaded his thoughts and woke him up. Her silhouette in the moonlight was enough to weaken his knees. He’d push the image from his mind, and it would just return again.
There wasn’t time for women; he didn’t have the right anyway, and he knew that. He’d made a promise to Dale and he planned to keep it, no matter what.
But the promise was flawed.
He wasn’t tracking Tom Spooner to bring him to justice because he believed in the law or because it was right, but because he wanted revenge against the man who sent him to prison.
And money.
There it was for all to see.
Revenge and money.
The backbone of all evil.
“Señor Marshal, I have brought you some breakfast,” the woman from the cantina said.
Posey turned around as she set a tray on the church rooftop.
“Thank you, ma’am,” he said.
“I will be back later for the tray,” she said.
“Maybe when you come back, you could bring more coffee?”
She smiled and nodded and disappeared as she climbed down the ladder.
Posey ate, watching the horizon. He couldn’t see from here, but somehow he knew Pilar would be in the cart with her father.
He lied to her, of course, when he wrapped her in his blanket and placed her on his saddle. He did look, and the sight of her body had haunted him since. He saw her in his dreams and in his thoughts.
“You haven’t the right,” he said aloud.
“You should not be here,” Jose said.
Pilar and Jose sat in the cart with the rifle between them on the seat. Around Pilar’s waist was the Schofield pistol. They spoke in Spanish.
“If something happens, Papa, what then?” Pilar said. “With your poor eyesight, you’d probably shoot yourself in the foot.”
“There is nothing wrong with my eyesight,” Jose said.
“You are blind as a Mexican fruit bat, Papa,” Pilar said.
Jose sighed. “Only at short distances. Give a man some coffee then,” he said.
Pilar turned, reached into the cart for the metal pail, and removed the cover. There were two cups and she filled both, then replaced the cover. She gave one cup to Jose.
Jose took a sip of coffee. “The marshal is a handsome man,” he said.
“I haven’t noticed,” Pilar said.
“Really?” Jose said, as he smiled and took another sip. “Such dark circles under your eyes. Did you not sleep well last night after your ride with him to town?”
“Drink your coffee, Papa, and be quiet,” Pilar said.
Last night was the longest, most lonely night of her life. When she left Posey at the fountain, she wanted to jump off the horse and run to his arms. She wanted to go to his room and lie with him in bed. Instead she cried the entire way home, glad for the cover of darkness.
That was a sin, such thoughts, but the priest was dead and there was no one to hear her confession, so what did it matter if she had such thoughts.
“As soon as his job is finished, he will go home,” Jose said.
“I know that, Papa.”
“And when he goes home, you will never see him again,” Jose said. “What then?”
Pilar looked at Jose.
“I wish your mother was here,” Jose said. “She would know how to talk with you on such matters. She died far too soon.”
Pilar sighed at the mention of her mother. Her mother would never approve of her behavior and would do everything in her power to ensure that Pilar married a Mexican farmer as she’d done.
“Papa, have you ever wished for more?” she asked.
“More what?”
“Just more.”
“I have land, three healthy children, and the love of a woman I loved more than anything,” Jose said. “What more ca
n a man ask for out of life?”
Pilar sipped her coffee.
“Maybe some lunch?” she said.
“Yes, that would be good,” Jose agreed.
Posey used his bandanna to wipe sweat from his face and eyes. The Mexican sun was blistering hot on his back, and his shirt was soaked through.
He asked Joseph to bring him a bucket of water and a ladle, and he used the ladle to pour water over his head. He didn’t bother to wipe it away but let it evaporate.
Down below, the mill was in use. Farmers were grinding corn and wheat by the cartful. Joseph and others were engaged in conversation and Posey’s Spanish wasn’t good, but he could guess what the topic was.
Posey stood and stretched his back.
The sky was bright blue, without a cloud in sight.
Jose and Pilar had just finished eating the stew she had made for lunch when five riders thundered past the cornfield.
Pilar stood up and Jose said, “Wait,” and took out his pocket watch.
The riders were traveling twice as fast as the first group so he would cut the time in half to start the fire.
“Go wait by the hay and start the fire when I tell you to,” Jose said.
Pilar jumped down and went to the round pile of stones. She took a wood match from her shirt pocket and looked at Jose.
He was looking at his pocket watch. Finally, he looked at her, nodded, and Pilar struck the match against a stone.
The clouds of white smoke rising from the cornfield caught Posey’s eye immediately.
“Joseph, the church. Hurry,” he shouted down to Joseph.
Within a minute, the square was empty.
Posey watched the riders coming hard. There were five of them. He didn’t need to see their faces to know Spooner and Broussard weren’t among them. They were fifteen hundred yards away and riding fast.
Posey picked up the Sharps rifle and aimed it at the riders so he could adjust the rear sights. Then he removed a cartridge from his shirt pocket and loaded the massive weapon.
He removed four additional cartridges from the pocket and lined them up on the wall to his left.
Posey knew from years of experience as a soldier and sniper how to judge distances. He waited until the riders were approximately five hundred yards away and then took careful aim at the center rider.
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