by Steve Hayes
Feeling uncomfortable, as he always did when women cried around him, Gabriel wished he was better with words so he could soothe her and make her understand that death didn’t work that way. It didn’t play favorites; once it chose its victim nothing could swerve it from its course.
‘Want me to talk to her?’
‘Thank you, no. She might think I put you up to it and then she’d hate me even more.’
Gabriel shifted uncomfortably.
Seeing how ill at ease he was, Ingrid dried her eyes on her apron, said: ‘I’m sorry I imposed on you like that. It was wrong of me. You’re not responsible for Raven or me—’
‘But I am indebted to you.’
‘Nonsense. We did no more than any other civilized person would do under the circumstances.’
‘I’ll stay,’ he said quietly.
‘No, no, I won’t hear of it—’
‘And I’ll ride with you to Las Cruces – that’s where you’re catchin’ the train to California, right?’
‘Yes, but – well, thank you, but I wouldn’t dream of putting you to that sort of inconvenience.’
‘No inconvenience. I’m goin’ there anyways.’
‘You sure? You’re not just saying that to make me feel better?’
‘No. There’s a lady I know at the mission. She means a lot to me and I want her to know I’m still alive.’
Ingrid felt a twinge of jealousy but quickly dismissed it. ‘So, there is a woman in your life?’
Before he could reply, they heard Raven yelling outside.
‘Rider comin’!’
Gabriel and Ingrid exchanged uneasy glances and then hurried out to the corral.
‘Over there,’ Raven pointed to the north. ‘He’s too far off to see who it is, but I reckoned you’d want to know.’
She was speaking to Gabriel. He nodded his thanks then asked her to get his field glasses from his saddle-bags.
‘Most likely he’s heading for Santa Rosa,’ Ingrid said as Raven ran to the barn. ‘Maybe even the border.’
Gabriel didn’t say anything. But his gut instinct said this rider wasn’t a good omen.
Shortly Raven returned, gave him his glasses and pointed out into the desert. ‘See … there … just to the left of that butte.’
Removing the glasses from the old traveling case, he blew on the lenses, wiped them clean with his sleeve cuff and focused them on the approaching rider.
‘It’s a man, all right. On a grullo. Got his hat pulled down low so’s I can’t see his face. But he’s ridin’ like a man who’s got all day to get where he’s goin’.’
‘May I look?’ Ingrid said. ‘Maybe there’s something about him or his horse I’ll recognize.’
He handed her the glasses. She trained them on the rider then shook her head and said he didn’t look familiar.
‘I wonder who he is?’
‘Bounty hunter, most likely.’
‘What makes you say that?’
‘A cowboy’s got no need for more’n a Winchester and a pistol. This fella’s packin’ two on the hip, a belly gun an’ a Sharps-Borchardt rifle, Model 1878 in his saddle boot.’
‘You can tell all that from here?’
‘Bein’ observant, it’s what keeps a man alive.’
‘Maybe he won’t stop here,’ Raven said hopefully. ‘Maybe he’ll circle ’round us and keep riding?’
‘Anything’s possible.’ Gabriel focused the glasses on the rider again. There was something familiar about the erect, cocky way he sat in the saddle and the matching ivory-grip .44s poking from his black-leather, tied-down holsters that raised a question mark in Gabriel’s memory – and as the man suddenly looked up, showing his face, he realized why:
‘Damn,’ he said softly.
‘You know him?’ Raven said.
‘Latigo Rawlins – yeah, I know him.’
‘Sounds as if you don’t like him much.’
‘He’s a shootist,’ Gabriel said as if that answered her question. ‘A hired gun.’ Catching her ‘like you?’ look, he added: ‘He kills folks for money.’
‘Is he fast?’
‘Still alive, ain’t he?’
‘Faster’n you?’
‘Raven,’ her mother began crossly.
‘I’m just asking, Momma.’
‘Hopefully,’ Gabriel said to Raven, ‘I’ll never find that out.’
‘Do you think he’s coming here after you?’ Ingrid asked. ‘I mean, could Mr Stadtlander have hired him?’
‘Anything’s possible,’ Gabriel repeated. He took another look through the glasses at the rider then walked off.
They watched him enter the barn. When he reappeared a few moments later he’d buckled on his gun-belt and was tying the holster down, gunfighter-style. As he joined them he drew his Peacemaker, spun the cylinder across his forearm to make sure the gun was fully loaded, and then slid the Colt back into its well-oiled holster.
‘Take Raven inside,’ he told Ingrid. ‘An’ stay there till I tell you to come out.’
Ingrid didn’t move. ‘This gunman, Latigo whatever his name is, he won’t be here for at least another ten or fifteen minutes. That’s more than enough time for you to saddle up and go wait in the hills till he’s gone.’
‘Runnin’ ain’t the answer.’
‘I’ll go with you,’ Raven offered. ‘Show you where to hide.’
Gabriel shook his head. ‘I need to get this settled. Now do like I say, ma’am.’
Grudgingly, Ingrid led Raven into the cabin. But by the way she slammed the door he knew she was angry with him.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Gabriel rolled a smoke, flared a match to it and sat on the edge of the water trough. He made sure the sun was behind him, and in the face of the rider, and then watched Latigo Rawlins riding toward him.
He’d first met the little Texan in the Acme Saloon in El Paso, the same saloon in which lawman John Selman would eventually shoot the notorious John Wesley Hardin in the back of the head. That night Gabriel and Latigo had faced each other across a poker table. Neither lost nor won much, and afterward they talked over drinks at the bar. Their meeting didn’t turn into a friendship; but during their conversation they discovered they had several things in common. Both were loners. Both had lost their parents while still in their mid teens. And both had a reputation for settling disputes with their guns.
During the ensuing years they had occasionally run into each other in various towns across the southwest and though they’d never had to confront one another, accounts of their individual exploits forced them to grudgingly respect each other’s speed with a gun.
Many people, especially lawmen, considered them cut from the same cloth and hoped they would kill each other off. Because of Latigo’s immense ego it probably would have happened too; but before the big showdown could take place Gabriel was branded a horse-thief by Stillman Stadtlander and forced to flee to Mexico.
Now, as Latigo Rawlins drew close enough to recognize Gabriel, the small, handsome, sandy-haired shootist reined in his horse, removed his cigarette and whistled softly. ‘I’ll be damned. Is that really you, Mesquite?’
‘Mesquite Jennings is dead,’ Gabriel said, referring to the name he’d used when he had first become an outlaw. ‘He was shot down by the Rurales south of the border.’
Latigo Rawlins chewed on Gabriel’s words a moment, then said: ‘Then who might I be talkin’ to now?’
‘Gabe Moonlight.’
‘Whooeee. That’s mighty fancy.’
‘It’s my natural born name.’
‘True?’
‘True.’
‘Hell, I never knew that.’ Latigo had a boyish voice to go with his boyish grin. ‘All these years, amigo, an’ you never once mentioned it.’
‘Had no call to.’
That seemed to satisfy Latigo. He took a long drag on his cigarette and flicked the butt away. ‘I heard a story once. Don’t recall who told me but they said you took the name Mesquite Jennings f
rom of one of them dime novels. That so?’
‘Yep.’
‘Why’d you kill it off?’
‘It’d worn out its welcome.’
‘Too bad. Me, I always liked the sound of it. Had flair. Like a woman in red satin and black knickers.’ He twisted slowly in the saddle trying to stretch the stiffness from his back. ‘Sure ’preciate it if I could step down and water my horse.’
‘Help yourself.’ Gabriel watched as the little gunfighter dismounted. He did it in one slow fluid movement, making sure his hands were always near his guns, and led his horse to the trough.
‘That’s a fine lookin’ grullo,’ Gabriel said as the leggy, mouse-colored dun buried its muzzle in the water.
‘Won it from a fella in a cantina in Alamogordo. Bluffed him into foldin’ with just one deuce showin’.’
‘Still playin’ stud then?’
‘Every chance I get. You?’
‘Not so much.’
‘Bein’ on the run’ll do that to a fella.’ Latigo laughed mirthlessly. Then removing his hat, he slapped the trail dust from it against his leathers, dipped it into the trough and poured water over his head. ‘I was due for a new pony, anyway. My roan was all wore out.’
He drank from his cupped hands, ran his dripping fingers through his curly fair hair and dried them off on his denim shirt. Then sitting beside Gabriel, he took out the makings and rolled himself a smoke.
‘Any time you feel like it,’ he said, scratching a match on his thumbnail, ‘you can tell them two women it’s safe to come out now.’
Gabriel looked at the grullo and noticed the tip of a brass nautical spyglass poking out of the saddle-bags. ‘They’re doin’ fine where they are. ’Sides, you ain’t gonna be here that long.’
Latigo grinned wryly. ‘No. Didn’t think I would be.’ His eyes, yellow as firelight, settled on Gabriel for an instant and in that instant Gabriel felt a cold chill run up his spine. It wasn’t fear, he knew; just an instinct warning him never to draw on this man unless he had an edge.
Rising, Latigo lazily stepped into the saddle and backed the grullo up without his eyes ever leaving Gabriel. ‘Thanks for the water, amigo.’
Gabriel nodded, ready to slap leather if Latigo even looked like he was going to draw.
But the little shootist made no attempt to go for his gun. Instead, once he was a few yards away he reined up, leaned on his saddle horn and gave Gabriel a cold smile.
‘If you ever get a hankerin’ to put distance ’tween you and here, look me up in California. I’ll be up north in Old Calico. Could be I’ll need someone like you.’
‘To do what?’
‘Watch my back. Man I’m gonna work for says the last two guns he hired were dry-gulched.’
‘I’ll think on it, Lefty.’
Latigo chuckled. ‘Been a spell since anyone called me that. Adios!’ He wheeled the grullo around and dug his spurs in, launching the startled horse into a gallop.
Gabriel breathed easier and signaled to the cabin. The curtains stirred and moments later Ingrid and Raven came out.
‘What did he want?’ Raven asked.
‘Was he after you?’ Ingrid added.
‘Hard to tell,’ Gabriel said. ‘Claimed he’s on his way to work for some fella in Old Calico, but—’
‘Old Calico?’ Ingrid said, surprised.
‘You’ve heard of it?’
‘That’s where my stepbrother lives. It’s a small town in the gold country near Placerville. What a coincidence.’
‘Maybe he’s gonna work for Uncle Reece?’ Raven said.
‘Don’t be silly. What use would he have for a shootist?’ She turned back to Gabriel. ‘How would this Latigo know you’re here? No one else does.’
‘Don’t figure he did. Not at first. But he’s got one of them fancy sea-captain’s spyglasses so he might’ve seen me from way off on that butte an’ decided to get a closer look. By now Stadtlander must’ve put a reward out for me, an’ Latigo, he was born with a nose for blood money.’
‘Does that mean he’ll be back?’
‘I doubt it,’ Gabriel said. ‘Latigo plays life like he plays poker – bluffing losers. Now that he’s seen I’m not all shot up like maybe he heard, he’s most likely to use that Sharps of his to gun me down from long range.’
‘Mean he’ll bushwhack you?’ Raven said.
‘Mean he’ll try.’
‘Dear God,’ Ingrid said. ‘This is the nineteenth century. Aren’t we ever going to learn to get along with one another?’
CHAPTER TWELVE
The rest of the week passed uneventfully. Raven, delighted that Gabriel was accompanying them to Las Cruces, was on her best behavior and did all she could to be helpful. She fetched water for her mother, hung clothes out to dry, swept the cabin and even finished the reading and arithmetic lessons that Ingrid composed for her – all without complaint.
She also tried to be around Gabriel as much as possible, fetching things for him, sewing buttons on his shirts, and offering to groom the stallion so that he didn’t have to risk re-injuring his healed wound.
Ingrid, though accustomed to mercurial mood swings in Raven’s personality, was nonetheless astounded by the change in her daughter.
‘If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes,’ she remarked to Gabriel, ‘I wouldn’t have believed it possible. Thanks to you, she’s turned into a little angel.’
He was skeptical. Though he enjoyed Raven’s company, he felt uneasy about the way she fawned over him when they were alone. Occasionally he caught her staring at him with such intensity it made him uncomfortable. He sensed there was more behind her adoration than she let on, and was worried that her ‘crush’ might develop into something more than he could handle. But when he mentioned it to Ingrid she only laughed and assured him that it was a perfectly normal reaction: all young girls had crushes, she said. It was part of growing up. Why, she herself had mooned over her neighbor’s son while growing up, and when he and his family moved away she was convinced her heart was permanently broken.
Having no prior experience with teenage girls, Gabriel accepted her explanation and said no more. He wasn’t sold, but he just decided not to worry about it. In two more days they were leaving for Las Cruces and once he put them on the train, he’d never see either of them again.
Raven, however, had no intention of losing Gabriel. For days now, while busy with her chores, she had been trying to think of a way to keep everyone together. Finally, on the night before they departed, she made a point of helping her mother pack the few personal belongings they were taking with them just so she could be alone with her.
‘Momma, know what I wish?’
‘No, lamb. What?’
‘I wish Gabe was coming with us to Old Calico.’
‘Mr Moonlight to you, young lady.’
‘But he told me to call him Gabe.’
‘I don’t care what he told you. You know better than to address your elders by their first names. As for your wish, dear, I wouldn’t get your hopes up. I very much doubt if he will change his mind.’
‘But you wouldn’t mind if he did, would you?’
‘N-no … I suppose not. Ridiculous as it sounds after such a short a time, I’ve grown used to having Mr Moonlight around. I’d enjoy his company – not to mention his protection – on such a long journey.’
‘Why don’t you ask him then?’
‘Ask him what – to come with us? Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly do that.’
‘Why not?’
‘It would be much too forward of me. It not only would embarrass him but it’d be very awkward for both of us.’
‘Why?’
‘Well, for one thing he has a lady friend in Las Cruces.’
‘No, that’s not true!’
‘But it is. He told me so himself.’
‘When?’
‘The other day, when he offered to accompany us to the train station.’
‘I don’t believe you.’
&
nbsp; ‘Believe what you like. It’s still true. She’s at the mission … waiting for him, I presume.’
‘Liar!’
‘How dare you!’ Ingrid went to slap Raven but at the last moment controlled herself and lowered her hand. ‘Now apologize, this instant.’
‘Why should I? I ain’t the one making up stories.’
‘Neither am I. And don’t say ain’t. Why would I make up a story like that?’ she added, as Raven sulked.
‘So you don’t have to ask him to come with us.’
‘That’s ridiculous. I’ve already said I’d like him to come.’
‘Then I’ll ask him.’
‘You’ll do no such thing. It’s not your place. Now stop being foolish and help me carry these valises into the other room.’
Sullenly, Raven obeyed. But as she set her mother’s old worn suitcase down by the door, tears welled in her eyes and she said suddenly: ‘I hate him.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. ’Course you don’t hate him—’
‘Do, too. Wish now I’d never helped him when he was dying.’
‘Shame on you! That’s a dreadful thing to say.’
‘I don’t care. It’s how I feel. An’ I’m never gonna change my mind, so there!’ She stormed from the cabin.
Gabriel was perched on the corral fence watching the stallion prance around when Raven ran past. Noticing that she was crying he called out to her. She ignored him and kept running. He called out again, louder this time, and again she ignored him. Puzzled, he watched her get swallowed up by the darkness. Wondering why she was so upset, he climbed down and went to the cabin.
Ingrid answered his knock and invited him.
‘What’s wrong with Raven?’
Before answering, she poured them both a cup of coffee and sat across the table from him.
