by Neil Hunter
‘Seems I owe Alex a favor.’
‘He told me you’d say that too. Said to tell you to forget it.’
An awkwardness fell between them. The silence stretched as they both sought the right words. The strain was broken by the appearance of a Negro attendant from the dining car.
‘We serve lunch at noon, sir,’ he told Brand. ‘Would you like to reserve a table?’
Brand nodded. ‘For two. Will you ask the Conductor to come forward?’
The Negro nodded and left them.
‘You got any luggage?’ Brand asked.
Adam said, ‘Back down the train.’
‘Go and fetch it.’
‘Yes, sir,’ Adam said and stood up.
Brand watched him go, letting out a relieved sigh.
Judas Priest, he thought, I’m getting too old for surprises like this.
The Conductor appeared. ‘Mr. Brand?’
‘Can you make out a ticket for the boy? He’s going to join me up here.’
‘All the way to Santa Fe?’
Brand took his wallet out again. ‘Yeah, all the way.’ Brand grinned suddenly. ‘We’ve a lot of talking to do. Looks like we’ll need every minute of this damn trip to do it.’
The Conductor glanced up from writing out the ticket, frowning at the grinning man. He made no comment. It wasn’t his job to try and figure out what the passengers were talking about. And he had been in the job too long to be surprised at anything they said, or did.
Adam returned carrying a pair of saddlebags over one shoulder and a bedroll under his arm. He had a Winchester rifle in one hand. Brand helped him stow his stuff away.
‘That loaded?’ Brand asked.
Adam held up the rifle. ‘Yes, sir, but the breech is empty.’
Brand held out a hand and took the weapon, examining it. ‘Can you use it?’
‘I hit what I aim at,’ Adam said with the confidence of youth. Then he quickly added, ‘Mind I’ve only ever shot at targets or game.’
Brand put the rifle down. ‘Well don’t sound so glum about it. Ain’t a rule you have to go shoot at a man just so’s you can say you done it.’
Adam flushed with anger. ‘I didn’t mean that,’ he said sharply.
‘I wasn’t saying you did, boy. Hell, don’t mind me. I’m just taking a little longer than usual getting used to being a father.’
A laugh rose in Adam’s throat.
‘I say something funny?’
‘No. Just something I’m trying to figure out.’
‘What?’
‘Do I call you father? Or pa? Or what?’
‘Looks like we got problems already. Why don’t we leave it open? You decide what feels right.’
‘Alright,’ Adam said. He leaned back in his seat. ‘This is nice. Lot better than back there. They always let you travel like this?’
‘No. It’s just that sometimes they like to coat the pill with sugar so you don’t think you have it so bad when the hard times come.’
‘Where you heading now?’
‘Santa Fe first. Then up into the San Juan Mountains.’
‘You after somebody?’
‘Looking for somebody. Two men in fact. Seems they got themselves lost up in the mountains.’
‘Can I ride with you?’ Adam asked, eagerness shining in his eyes.
‘No. But you can wait for me in Santa Fe.’
Adam’s shoulders sagged. ‘What am I going to do there? I don’t see why I can’t come with you.’
‘I’m not about to argue over this, boy. No way of knowing what I’ll find when I take to those mountains. I won’t have time to look out for you.’
‘I’m not a kid,’ Adam retorted. ‘I can look after myself.’
‘Listen to me, Adam, and remember. Most of the time the job I do is dirty and downright unhealthy. A lot of the people I get mixed up with are the kind who would rather kill you than talk. I have a gun in my hand a lot of the time because it’s the only sure way to stay alive. I’ve had to kill a lot of men, and it isn’t something I’m proud off. But it’s the life I lead. Give yourself a few more years and you’ll see there are some mean folk walking around. Don’t fool yourself into thinking that just ’cause you’ve blown holes in a few tin cans it makes you eligible for my kind of business. It doesn’t, boy.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Adam said. ‘I got no right to push myself on you. Maybe it was the wrong thing to do.’
‘You can quit that talk,’ Brand said. ‘Look, we’re going to be stuck on this train for a few days. Plenty of time to talk things out. No need to rush.’
Adam nodded. ‘I guess so.’ He began to relax, gazing out the window again. Abruptly he looked back at Brand. ‘Is it true you were a US Marshal. Tell me about it.’
Brand realized something there and then. This train ride certainly wasn’t going to be boring. He wasn’t going to be allowed to get bored. In fact it looked as if he was going to be filling every minute. Just as he had said to the Conductor. He had all those lost years to make up for and the way it was shaping up, he wasn’t going to be allowed to miss out a single day.
Chapter Three
They arrived in Santa Fe almost six hours behind schedule. A freight train had suffered one of its boxcars jumping the tracks at Raton Pass and the repair crews had a difficult time getting it back on the rails. Eventually the track was cleared and the delayed train rolled on. It was almost midnight when it arrived at the Santa Fe depot.
‘I don’t know about you, but all I want is a bed to fall into,’ Brand said as they made their way up the street.
‘Sounds good to me.’
They reached the sprawling bulk of Santa Fe’s largest and most celebrated hotel, La Fonda. Brand led the way inside, crossing the dim, lamp lit lobby. A sleepy figure stirred in the shadows behind the desk.
‘Buenos noches, señor,’ the Mexican said.
‘Hello, Emilio.’
The round faced Mexican leaned forward, smiling when he recognized Brand.
‘Señor Brand. Welcome back to La Fonda. It has been too long. Are you well?’
‘Fine. Emilio, do you have a nice cool room. With a pair of soft beds?’
‘For you, Señor Brand, always.’ Emilio picked up a key. ‘How long will you be with us this time?’
‘I’ll be riding out in the morning. I have some business. Might be gone a while. But my boy, here, will be staying on until I get back. See he has everything he needs, Emilio. I’ll settle up when I get back.’
‘But of course.’ Emilio glanced over Brand’s shoulder at Adam who was in the shadows on the far side of the lobby. ‘Señor, did I hear you say…’
‘The boy is my son, Emilio.’
‘Then he is doubly welcome. Though I did not realize you had a son, Señor Brand. He looks a fine boy.’
‘Yeah,’ Brand found himself saying, with a feeling he could only describe as pride. ‘Oh, hell, Emilio, I only found out about him myself a few days back.’
Emilio’s smile broadened. ‘Si. I understand.’
‘You can wipe that smirk off your face, you old devil. When I get back maybe I’ll tell you all about it.’
‘¡Bueno! Then do not worry. Emilio will take good care of him while you are away.’ He handed Brand the key. ‘Sleep well, my friend.’
Brand checked the room number, then led the way up the shadowed stairs and along the cool passage. He unlocked the door of the room and dumped his gear on the floor, moving to light the lamp set on a round table.
‘Get yourself sorted out,’ he told Adam. ‘I’ll be back in a while.’
‘Where are you going?’
Brand opened his bag and took out his gun belt. He strapped it on, checking that the Colt was fully loaded. ‘I’m going over to the Federal Building. I need to check if any messages came in for me.’
Adam took off his coat, yawning. ‘All right,’ he said.
‘You want anything bringing back?’
‘No.’
The night air was cool. Brand l
eft the hotel and strode across the near deserted plaza. Skirting the monument erected to commemorate the dead of the battle of Valverde. The Federal Building stood on Palace Avenue and this too looked deserted. Brand went inside, his boots echoing on the hard floor. He saw there was a light showing in the town Marshal’s office. The Marshal himself, hunched over a sheaf of papers, glanced up as Brand entered.
‘I help you, mister?’
‘Name’s Brand. You might have some messages for me?’
The Marshal leaned back in his chair. He was a stocky, stern faced man in his early forties, dark hair starting to go gray.
‘Nate Dembrow. Been expecting you,’ he said. ‘Not this late though got to say.’
‘Freight train came off the rails at Raton Pass. Held us up some.’
‘Well nothing come through for you,’ the Marshal said. ‘Washington was on to me a few days back. Asked if I’d cooperate with you.’
‘Be grateful for anything you can tell me, Marshal.’
‘Sit down, Mr. Brand. Coffee?’
‘Thanks.’
As he poured a couple of mugs of coffee Dembrow said, ‘Not much more I can tell you that you probably already heard. This geologist feller—Joseph Calvin—he dropped in to see me ‘fore he lit out for the San Juans. Seemed a sensible kind of feller. Way he talked it seemed he’d done this kind of thing before. Didn’t seem the kind likely to get himself lost up a mountain.’
Brand took the mug of coffee. ‘He give you any idea the area he was heading for?’
The Marshal crossed to a map of the territory pinned to the wall behind his desk.
‘Said he’d be covering a pretty wide area. Looking for mineral deposits. Aimed to travel north. Maybe a little northwest. Figuring on forty, fifty, miles in. High country.’
Dembrow ringed the area on the map with his finger.
‘Anything up that way?’ Brand asked.
The Marshal shrugged. ‘All I know is it’s pretty wild country. Hell of large area. Never been that far in myself. Nigh on uninhabited far as I know. Did once hear of a settlement up there. Keep themselves to themselves. No bother to anyone. Truth be told there ain’t anyone else up there to bother.’
‘What about the other feller who went looking for Calvin?’
‘Hec Rankin? Same goes for him. Deputy US Marshal. No man’s fool. Known him for nigh on four years. Dependable man. No damn greenhorn.’
Brand drained his coffee mug and placed it on the desk.
‘If that’s so, what the hell happened to ’em?’
Dembrow shrugged. ‘Like I said, you know as much as I do, Mr. Brand.’
Brand stood up. ‘I’ll be heading out in the morning. Anything occurs to me I’ll drop by.’
The Marshal followed him to the door. ‘Sorry I couldn’t be more help. Fact is there ain’t much to tell. Calvin was here and rode out. He didn’t come back. Hec Rankin went to look for him and now they both ain’t come back.’
‘Be seeing you, Marshal.’
He made his way back to La Fonda. Santa Fe had gained a degree of late nightlife since he had been inside the Marshal’s office. Brand heard music. From a shadowed alley came the muffled protests of an excited woman. The words were in Spanish, and even if Brand hadn’t understood the language he could have deciphered the meaning of the not too insistent protest. As he moved on the sounds trailed away into a healthy sigh of contentment.
Reaching the hotel Brand made his way up to the room. He let himself in and found it in darkness. From Adam’s bed came the sound of deep, steady breathing. Brand undressed and eased into his own bed. No point disturbing the boy, he decided.
~*~
Adam was still sleeping when Brand got up with the first rays of the sun. Crossing to the washstand he tipped water from the jug into a wide bowl and sluiced his face. Grabbing a towel Brand dried himself, looking out through the window.
Far to the northwest he could make out the shimmering peaks of the San Juan range rising soft and mist shrouded through the early haze. Somewhere in those distant heights were two lost men. Men he had to find. He hoped they would still be alive. For all he knew they could already be dead. Buried in solitary graves, away from prying eyes.
Judas Priest, he thought, you’re starting to get morbid.
Brand pulled on dark pants and a gray shirt. His suit was hung out of the way in the wardrobe. He strapped on the Colt, checking the revolver was loaded and his belt loops full. He did the same to his rifle. The adapted revolver sat snug in the shoulder holster. When he turned from the window he saw Adam sitting up in bed, watching him.
‘I figured you were set for the day,’ Brand said. He tossed the towel to the boy. ‘Splash some of that water on your face. It’ll wake you up proper.’
Adam threw back the covers, easing his lean shape off the bed. ’I am awake,’ he muttered.
Brand sensed Adam’s sullen mood and knew what had prompted it.
‘Boy, you can sulk all damn day if you’ve a mind to. Won’t change a thing. You ain’t coming with me.’
Adam bent over the basin and sluiced water on his face.
‘So what am I supposed to do around here while you’re gone?’
‘You’ll think of something. If you need for anything go talk to Emilio. He’s a good friend. He’s promised to keep an eye on you.’
‘I ain’t a baby,’ Adam exploded, throwing the towel across the room. ‘I don’t need a damn nursemaid.’
‘You could sure do with a lesson in manners, boy. Now just quit fooling around and feeling sorry for yourself. Give me time to get this job done then we can have ourselves a chance at working out what we’re going to do.’
Brand tugged on his boots, stamping his feet down into the snug leather. He recalled Adam’s outburst, a wry smile on his lips. The boy had done exactly what Brand himself would have done at the same age. Watching him Brand found himself imagining he was staring into a mirror. It was a reflection that was half a lifetime old. So many of Adam’s mannerisms were Brand’s own. It was like having a living shadow following him around. Part of him, yet separate. It pleased him—and it also scared the hell out of him.
They went down and ate breakfast in silence. Adam had retreated into a shell that excluded even his father. Brand left him to it. It was only when they were approaching the livery stable where Brand’s rented horse was waiting for him that Adam broke his silence.
‘I guess I’m sorry,’ he said awkwardly.
Brand smiled. ‘Never liked having to apologize myself.’
They went inside the stable where Brand was shown his horse. It was a strong looking chestnut with a white streak in its mane. The animal had some spirit which Brand liked. Give him a mount with a good character. The chestnut had a good build. It would need that for the hilly terrain they would be negotiating. He began to saddle up.
‘How long will you be away?’
‘Hard to tell. Few days. No way of knowing until I get down to it.’
He finished saddling up and tied on his gear, pushed his rifle into the boot. He had two large filled canteens of water to add. Adam fell in beside him as they as they walked outside. Brand took out his wallet and slid out some money. He handed it to Adam.
‘If you need anything else just ask Emilio.’
‘Thanks,’ Adam said. He watched Brand mount up and gather his reins. ‘You take care now.’
Brand nodded. ‘Be back as soon as I can. See you then, boy.’
‘I’ll be here,’ Adam said. He raised a hand in a quick gesture as Brand moved off. ‘I’ll be waiting—pa.’
Chapter Four
For the second time in as many days Bodie had lost the trail. It annoyed the hell out of him when that happened. It wasn’t as if he was some damned greenhorn. He’d been tracking men for more years than he cared to recall and it purely didn’t seem natural for him to keep missing Monk’s trail.
Thaddeus Monk was wanted in a number of territories. His list of crimes included robbery and assault. He
was also a multiple killer, having willfully shot down a number of men and latterly a woman. Monk had no redeeming qualities. He held laws and social graces in contempt, happy to go about his brutal ways with total disregard for the world around him. He was also a hard man to catch, which was why Bodie had been asked to go after him.
A collective of concerned businessmen had hired him, aware of Bodie’s reputation and his tracking skills. They also understood the way Bodie worked. He didn’t play by the rules. Borders meant nothing to the man. Once he took on a contract he would follow his man to the very gates of Hell and snatch him from the hands of the Devil himself. The incentive here, apart from the need to get Monk taken down, was the added financial bonus Bodie would get on top of the official bounties pinned to Monk.
People might not have liked Bodie but they sure as hell couldn’t do without him. He had no equals in the bounty business. Put Bodie on a wanted man’s trail and the matter was settled even before the fugitive was in his sights.
It was close on noon. Hot and dusty. The sky wasn’t showing a scrap of cloud, so when Bodie saw the stream coming down off the slope close by he decided it was time to rest up. He eased out of the saddle, stretching his back to loosen the nagging ache and led his horse to the water. The big gray swung its head and he could swear it scowled at him as if to say not before time.
‘Go drink, hoss,’ he said. ‘Ain’t much fun for me either.
The horse snorted and wandered to the stream to drink. Bodie unhitched his big canteen and tipped out what was left of the warm water. He knelt upstream from where the horse was drinking and rinsed out the canteen before he refilled it. Bodie dropped his hat on the ground and dunked his head into the water. Took away the sweat and dust. He threw back his head, his shaggy hair spraying water in all directions. He felt only a little better for that but at least it cleared his head and cooled him a mite.
He loosened the saddle and slid it off, using the blanket to wipe down the gray’s back. The animal continued to drink until Bodie pulled it away from the stream and found it a patch of reasonable grass for it to feed.
‘Fool horse. You’d drink that stream dry if I didn’t stop you.
