Death Mask
Page 26
“Oh, Señor Ranger Carlow. You are awake!”
Bridgeport looked at Kileen and winked.
Another commotion at the far end of the hospital drew their attention. A thin man with a long goatee, looking more like a Presbyterian minister than a legendary lawman, strode confidently down the aisle. He ignored the demands of the head nurse charging behind him, waving her arms. His clothes were of the trail and he looked weary, but determined as always.
“Thunder, that’s the captain coming.”
Kileen shut his eyes for a moment, then squinted at the advancing figure.
“Sweet mither of Mary.”
The head nurse finally stopped and wheeled around when Carlow waved.
Captain McNelly strode to their beds, shaking his head. “What is this? Two of my best Rangers sleeping on the job.” His laugh was deep. “We came as soon as we heard.” His voice rang through the gray building, making everyone come to attention. “Marshal Bridgeport here was kind enough to wire me with the report. Concise. Well written. I like that.” He nodded toward the British lawman, who smiled.
McNelly stepped next to Kileen’s bed and held out his left hand in greeting, realizing the big Irishman would be unable to shake hands conventionally with his wounded right arm.
Kileen grabbed it with his own left paw. “Be good to be seein’ ye, Captain.”
“Good work, Rangers. Tanneman Rose led us on quite a chase—and took the lives of some fine men,” McNelly pronounced, looking around the room as he spoke. “Everyone thought it was a gang—and that he was dead. Except you two.”
Kileen looked over at his nephew. “Captain, me love. It be Ranger Carlow thinkin’ it be Tanneman by hisself. Not meself.”
“Yes, I know. He sent me a wire to check out his death. That’s when I realized we had been fooled.”
Kileen’s eyes widened and he stared at Carlow, who only grinned.
Folding his arms, McNelly continued, “The banks will be notified of your recovery. The law in San Antonio has already been told of the situation and an innocent man has been freed. I’m sorry we were too late to save the German.” He frowned. “Thunder, you know the rules. You’re off the payroll—until you’re ready to ride again.”
“Aye. ‘Twill be soon.”
“I know it will.” McNelly’s face didn’t match his positive response. His mouth a narrow line, he turned toward Carlow and held out his right hand.
The young Ranger gripped it and his gaze met McNelly’s steady stare.
“How soon can you ride? We can’t wait for Thunder,” the intense captain said. “I want to resume our drive to the border. Stop the rustling along there.” His right arm moved horizontally in front of him to demonstrate their movement. “We’ll cross the Rio Grande if we have to. This has to end.”
Carlow straightened his shoulders. “I’m ready now, Captain. It’s just a flesh wound.”
Her dark eyes flashing anger, Mariah declared, “You are not ready, Ranger Carlow. You haff been hurt mucho.” Her glare took in McNelly, who actually appeared flustered for a moment.
McNelly shook his head and glanced at Bridgeport, then Kileen. “You heard the young lady. A few more days then.”
“Ees better.”
“Good.” The captain smiled. “There’s a bunch of hard-nosed Rangers outside. They’ve got bets down on how soon these boys’ll be back. May they come in?”
“Si.” She put her hand on Carlow’s shoulder and he held it there.
HIGH PRAISE FOR COTTON SMITH!
“Cotton Smith is one of the finest of a new breed of writers of the American West.”
—Don Coldsmith
“Cotton Smith’s is a significant voice in the development of the American Western.”
—Loren D. Estleman
“In just a few years on the scene, Cotton Smith has made a strong mark as a Western writer of the new breed, telling it like it was.”
—Elmer Kelton, Seven-time Spur Award-winning author of The Day It Never Rained
“Cotton Smith is another modern writer with cinematic potential. Grand themes, moral conflicts and courage are characteristic of his fiction.”
—True West Magazine
“These days, the traditional Western doesn’t get much better than Cotton Smith.”
—Roundup Magazine
“Fans of the Western genre will find much to enjoy.”
—Longmont Times-Call
“Acclaimed novelist Cotton Smith is a Western legend.”
—Recorded Books Direct
MORE PRAISE FOR COTTON SMITH!
“Hats off to Cotton Smith for keeping the spirit of the West alive in today’s fiction. His plots are as twisted as a gnarled juniper, his prose as solid as granite, and his characters ring as true as jinglebobs on a cowboy’s spurs.”
—Johnny D. Boggs, Wrangler and Spur Award-winning author of Camp Ford
“When it came to literature, middle-age had only three good things to show me: Patrick O’Brian, Larry McMurtry and Cotton Smith.”
—Jay Wolpert, screenwriter of The Count of Monte Cristo and Pirates of the Caribbean
“From his vivid descriptions of a prairie night to his hoof-pounding action scenes, Cotton Smith captures the look and feel of the real West.”
—Mike Blakley, Spur Award-winning author of Summer of Pearls
“Cotton Smith turns in a terrific story every time.”
—Roundup Magazine
Other Leisure books by Cotton Smith:
RETURN OF THE SPIRIT RIDER
THE WAY OF THE WEST (Anthology)
BLOOD OF BASS TILLMAN
BLOOD BROTHERS
STANDS A RANGER
DEATH RIDES A RED HORSE
DARK TRAIL TO DODGE
PRAY FOR TEXAS
BEHOLD A RED HORSE
BROTHERS OF THE GUN
SPIRIT RIDER
SONS OF THUNDER
WINTER KILL
Copyright
A LEISURE BOOK®
July 2009
Published by
Dorchester Publishing Co., Inc. 200
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Copyright © 2009 by Cotton Smith
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