Song of the Road

by Dorothy Garlock

  Chapter 30

  LAUGHING AND TOSSING A PILLOW at Trudy, Eli went to the door to get the mop he’d left leaning against the side of the cabin. He casually glanced up toward the house, then looked again. A car was parked beside the house, and a man was shoving Mary Lee into it.

  “Hey! Hey!” he shouted, leaped out the door and began to run. “Stop that!” He was halfway there when the car shot out of the drive and onto the highway. “Stop, you … bastards!” he yelled.

  When Trudy caught up with him, she grabbed his arm. In shock, they stared down the highway, but the car was out of sight.

  “They took her! Jake was dependin’ on me.” Eli was crying openly and unashamedly. “If they hurt her … I’ll kill the sons a bitches!”

  “Get a hold on yourself.” Trudy shook his arm. “Run down to the station and tell Mr. Santez to call the sheriff.”

  “We got to get Jake. He’ll know what to do.”

  “Hell!” Trudy swore. “I wish we had a telephone. Go, Eli. Go call the sheriff. Ask Mr. Santez to take you to Quitman’s to get Jake and Deke.”

  “If anybody comes, go in the house and lock the doors,” Eli said, then took off running down the highway, oblivious of the auto horns that honked at him because he was running on the pavement. The fear in his heart fueled his pumping legs.

  Trudy hurried into the house and went through the rooms. The house was as quiet as death. Some of the noon dishes had been removed from the table; a broken dish lay on the floor. She returned to the porch, numb with fear and dread, to pace and to wait.

  After what seemed an eternity but could only have been fifteen minutes or less, a car pulled into the drive and braked in front of the house. Eli sat beside Mr. Santez. Trudy ran to the driver’s side.

  “The sheriff’s on the other side of the county,” Mr. Santez told her. “The telephone operator is trying to locate him and the deputy. When she finds him, she’ll tell him to come here. I’m takin’ the boy to Quitman’s to get Jake.” Trudy backed up, and the car sped away.

  Eli clasped his hands together and clenched his jaws to keep from crying. Coming to the court had been the luckiest day of his life. Mary Lee loved him; she had told him she did. No one had ever loved him but his mother, and she had been gone for so long he couldn’t recall her face. He would never forget seeing the man throw Mary Lee in the car, as if she were an old castoff, and slam the door.

  Son of a bitch, bastard, dirty rotten shit … In his mind, he called the men every nasty name he’d ever heard.

  Eli leaned forward and held on to the door and the dashboard. He had never been to Quitman’s and had no idea where it was or how long it would take to get there. Mr. Santez turned the car into a long lane leading to a nest of buildings and a maze of corrals. They didn’t stop until after they rounded the house and came to a stout corral connected to a barn. As soon as it stopped, Eli was out and running.

  “Jake!”

  Jake was leading a handsome, prancing roan out of the barn. When he saw Eli, fear rose in his throat. Something terrible had happened! He dropped the reins, hurried to the pole fence and jumped over.

  “Some men came and … and took her!”

  “Mary Lee?” Jake grabbed Eli’s shoulders. “What do you mean, ‘took her’?”

  “Trudy and I was in number six. I looked out the door — they was puttin’ her in a car. I … was supposed to take care of her —”

  “Never mind that now,” Jake said sternly. “Who were they? Do you know them? What kind of car?”

  “Black car. They was carryin’ her — I’ll kill ’em!”

  “We called the sheriff,” Mr. Santez said. “It’ll be a while before he can get here.”

  “What happened?” Deke came running up, followed by several others.

  “Someone took Mary Lee away in a car.” Jake’s mind was trying to reason logically while his heart was like a cold lump in his chest.

  Deke was speechless for once. Then, “Trudy?”

  “She’s back at the court.”

  “Did you see the men?” Jake’s voice reflected his anxiety.

  “Just one of ’em. I didn’t see his face … but I saw his boots.” Eli grabbed Jake’s arm. “A man wearin’ boots like that was working at Clawson’s when I was there.”

  “Slow down and tell me everything you saw.” Jake’s face was hard as stone.

  “I just had a glimpse, but he was wearin’ boots that came about to here”—Eli bent over and touched his leg a few inches below his knee —“and his britches were tucked in. I remember the boots ’cause they had a big white star on the side.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “I’m sure a man at Clawson’s wore boots like that. He was cocky and mouthy. He was younger than Lon Delano but hung around with him a lot.”

  “Son of a bitch!” A batch of cusswords flowed from Jake. “I should’ve killed that bastard a long time ago.”

  Eli shook Jake’s arm. “It wasn’t Lon Delano. I’d a recognized him.”

  “He never does his own dirty work.”

  “I’ll get the cycle.” Deke had been keeping his motorcycle at the ranch while he was working on one for Mr. Quitman.

  “I’m going to Clawson’s …”

  “Ocie wouldn’t have anything to do with something like this,” Mr. Santez said.

  “His foreman would. Go back. Stay with Trudy, Eli!” Jake shouted.

  His words were almost lost in the roar of the motorcycle. Deke paused just long enough for Jake to jump into the sidecar before they roared off down the lane.

  Eli repeated his story to Mr. Quitman, who immediately left for town to spread the news to the merchants up and down the street that Mary Lee Clawson had been kidnapped and to be on the lookout for two men in a black car, one wearing high boots with a white star on the side.

  If his mind had been working clearly, Jake would have admired the way Deke handled the motorcycle. They traveled the roads, crossed rough range, dipped into a dry creek bed, scared deer and scattered a herd of whiteface steers. Deke drove fast but not recklessly. The wind whipped his hair and bloused the sleeves on his shirt.

  Querida, querida, be all right. Please, God, don’t let my love be harmed. I’ll do anything, anything …

  Jake had believed for some time that Lon Delano considered Mary Lee’s baby a threat to his inheriting the ranch — especially since Ocie had made such an issue of wanting her to come out there to live. Lon was probably behind her near-fall on the steps leading to the doctor’s office. If the bastard had a hand in this, he was a dead man.

  The motorcycle sped toward the ranch house, leaving behind a trail of dust. Ocie came out onto the porch when it roared into the yard. Jake was out the instant it stopped.

  “Where’s Lon?”

  “Hell, I don’t know. Around here somewhere. What’s up?”

  “Two men came to the court and took Mary Lee. If he’s behind it, I’m going to kill him.”

  “Took her? The hell you say!”

  “Have you had a kid working here who wore boots with a big white star on the side?”

  “Hell, a lot of men come and go. I don’t pay attention to their boots.”

  “He wore his britches stuffed in … hung around a lot with Lon?”

  “I know who ya mean.” Old Ben came out of the house wiping his hands on a rag. “A bratty kid named Wyn was here until a few weeks ago. He wore boots like that.”

  “A man wearing boots with a big white star shoved Mary Lee into the back of a black car and sped away. If Lon is behind it he’ll know where they took her.”

  “Are ya daft?” Ocie said. “Why’d Lon do that?”

  “So he’d inherit the ranch, ya dumb shit!” Jake shouted. “Who’s in line after Bobby’s baby?”

  Ocie’s mouth opened, closed, opened again. “The bastard! I’ll kill him myself if he hurts that girl.”

  “Lon has a shack down on the Pecos,” Ben said.

  Ocie looked at him. “There’s nothing th
ere but four walls.”

  “There is now. A few months ago one of the boys saw that it was fixed up. The hands have been warned to stay clear of it.”

  “I know that old place. Why would he take her there?”

  “Why not?” Ben said. “She could rot in that shack and no one but Lon would know.”

  “I’m going out there, then I’m coming back for Lon whether she’s there or not.” Jake stepped back into the sidecar.

  “What can I do?” Ocie asked, coming off the porch.

  “Gather your men to look for her. Quitman’s probably already got his men out.”

  “Which way?” Deke asked.

  Ben stepped to the edge of the porch. “Go through the gate behind the corrals, put your eyes on three fir trees standing alone. When you reach them, go east. It’s a good five miles to the Pecos. Turn south. When you come to a dry creek bed, you’re close.”

  Deke nodded, stomped on the starter, and the motorcycle came to life. Ocie didn’t speak until they were out of the yard.

  “You reckon Jake’s right about Lon?”

  Ben shrugged. “He’s been actin’ like he’s owner here. He’s got all new crew.”

  “I’ve been leavin’ too much up to him, haven’t I?”

  “ ’Fraid so, Ocie. Ya better take control or ya’ll be workin’ for Lon.”

  “You think he’d get rid of that girl thinkin’ I’ll leave the ranch to him cause Pa was so hell-bent on keepin’ it in the family?” Ocie frowned.

  “You’ll have to ask him. He just rode in.” Ben went back into the house.

  “By God, I will.” Ocie went along the side of the porch to the back, where Lon was watering his horse at the tank.

  “Who was that on the motorcycle? The damn fool’ll spook the cattle.”

  “Jake.” Ocie came right to the point. “He’s looking for Mary Lee and seems to think you have something to do with two men takin’ her.”

  “What? He’s a crazy goddamn Mexican bastard who’s always had it in for me.”

  “He’ll kill you if anything happens to that girl.”

  “He might try.”

  “Goddammit, Lon, I want some answers. The kid that worked here for a while, the one who wore high boots with a white star, was seen at the motor court shoving her into a car.”

  “What’s that got to do with me?”

  “His name was Wyn and he hung around with you.”

  “I don’t know who yo’re talkin’ about.”

  “Are you thinkin’ the ranch will go to you if Bobby’s kid ain’t born?”

  “I suppose I’d be next in line of kin, but that don’t mean I have anythin’ to do with her bein’ missin’.”

  “Damn ya to hell. I can leave the whole goddamn place to the town whore if I want to.”

  “But you won’t. This land has been in the family for more than a hundred years. I’m family.”

  “Ya’ll never get it!” Ocie shouted. “Get your gear and get out. I’ve been meanin’ to send ya packin’ for a while. I don’t like the way yo’re doin’ thin’s. I’m thinkin’ now you trumped up those rustlin’ charges against Jake Ramero and got your men to swear to it.”

  “You swore to it too.”

  “I swore that they were my cattle, you lying son of a bitch! They had my brand on them.”

  “Ya ain’t firin’ me!” Lon’s face turned a fiery red. “I’ve been runnin’ this ranch for more’n ten years. If anyone goes, it won’t be me.”

  Ocie snorted. “I own this place and I’m tellin’ ya to be off my land by sundown.”

  “Who’s goin’ to put me off? You?”

  “If I have to.”

  “There’s more than twenty men work here. How many of them take orders from you?”

  “So it’s come down to this.” Ocie shook his head and turned to walk away.

  “The law’ll give me this ranch when you’re gone. By God! I’m next of kin. There’s no blood kin standin’ between you and me.” Lon went behind his horse and opened his saddlebag.

  “And I’m damned ashamed that yo’re kin.” Ocie turned. “If you’ve hurt that girl, it won’t do ya no good. I’ve made out a will.”

  Lon’s head jerked up. “When did this happen?”

  “None of your business. You won’t get this ranch … ever! I want you gone from here today. I’ll leave your pay at the bank.”

  “Ya ain’t got no will. It wasn’t but a couple weeks ago ya was talkin’ that ya ort to have one.”

  Ocie turned and headed for the house. Before he reached it, Lon grabbed his shoulder and spun him around.

  “If ya got a will, where’s it at?” he snarled, and shoved Ocie back. When Ocie saw the gun in Lon’s hand and the crazed look on his face, he became alarmed. But pride refused to let him back down.

  “I’m tellin’ ya nothin’.”

  “Ya’ll tell me or ya’ll not walk again.” Lon pointed the gun and fired.

  It happened so quickly, Ocie had no time to react. He screamed and fell back, his kneecap shattered.

  “Ya ain’t so smart now,” Lon jeered. “I’ve been runnin’ this place while ya’ve been lordin’ it over me. I been takin’ shit from you since I was a pup, but I ain’t doin’ it no more. Did Junior Miller make ya out a will? Tell me or you’ll get a bullet in the other knee.”

  Ocie was rolling on the ground, holding his thigh and screaming with pain. Lon’s words hadn’t even registered in his brain.

  “Guess ya want another bullet.” Lon’s face was a mask of hatred. He stepped up close and fired into Ocie’s other knee.

  The pain was excruciating. Ocie never even heard Lon’s next words.

  “Have ya got a will in old Miller’s office? Goddammit! Have ya? If ya ain’t tellin’ me, the next bullet goes into that shit between yore ears.” He waited. When Ocie didn’t answer, he pointed the gun toward his head. “When ya get to hell, say hello to old Temple, who didn’t want to admit that Lon Delano was kin to the almighty Clawsons.”

  Lon never pulled the trigger. A loud blast came from a shotgun in the hands of old Ben. He had come out the back door. The heavy pellets struck Lon in the chest and threw him back into the dirt. His horse shied, then broke away and ran to the far side of the corral.

  When the first shots were fired, all hands within hearing distance stopped work. At the blast from the shotgun, they hurried to the back of the house. Ben was on his knees beside Ocie.

  “The bastard’s dead, Ocie. We’ll get ya to the doctor.” Then he shouted, “Somebody get a board to carry him on!”

  Chapter 31

  BECAUSE THE MOTORCYCLE made so much noise, Jake directed Deke by hand signals. It seemed to Jake they crossed rangeland forever before they reached the river. After they turned south, the terrain grew rougher, and they had to slow down. When they came to the place that Jake thought would be a half mile from the shack, he touched Deke’s arm and motioned for him to stop.

  “It’s not far now. We’d better walk. I wish I had a gun. I never thought to get one from Ocie.”

  “I’ve got one.” Deke lifted the seat in the sidecar, pulled out a small revolver, checked to see that it was loaded, then tucked it into his belt. “Let’s go.”

  Jake wanted to run, but his high-heeled boots made running difficult and he wanted to conserve his strength for what might face him when they reached the shack. As they hurried along, Deke did his best to keep up with Jake.

  “A car has been here recently.” Deke pointed to two sets of tire tracks. The blades of grass were flattened going in one direction on one set, and in the opposite direction on the other.

  “They’ve been here and gone.” Jake managed to speak over the huge lump in his throat.

  He had never been so afraid in his life, not even when three hardened convicts at the state prison had backed him into a corner of the fence in the exercise area and he had believed that he might not get out of that corner alive.

  Madre de Dios, he prayed, I’ll never ask for another t
hing if you’ll let her be all right. I love her so damn much. She and her baby mean everything to me. They are all I want in this world. I can’t lose her. I can’t!

  His heart was pumping with dread at what they would find as they approached the windowless shack. It was quiet, serene, almost hallowed there amid the fir trees. Not even the scolding of blue jays or the caws of crows soaring overhead broke the silence. Jake wanted his love to be there but feared that if she was, she was already lost to him.

  Deke pulled the gun from his belt. Jake lifted the bar, threw back the door and sprang into the room. At first he saw what he thought was a pile of rags on the dirt floor; a second later a cry tore from his throat.

  “Querida!”

  Mary Lee lay on her side on the dirt floor, her hands bound behind her back, her knees drawn up as if she were trying to protect her baby. Blood had soaked the front of her shirt. The part of her face not covered with dirt was deathly white.

  “Querida. Mi bella querida.” Jake fell on his knees beside her, lifted her face out of the dirt with his cupped palm and smoothed the hair back from her neck. He searched and found a pulse. He gave a glad cry. “She’s alive! Thank you, God!”

  “See the powder burns on her shirt,” Deke said. “She was on her back when she was shot.” He slashed the ropes that bound her hands and feet, then made a cut in the shirt and pulled it off her shoulder. “Looks like it went through. We’ve got to stop the blood or she’ll bleed to —”

  “Cut the sleeve out of her shirt, it’s cleaner than mine. Turn it wrong side out and pack the wound. She’s got a big lump on the side of her head. Goddamn bastards left her lying in the dirt.”

  Working fast, they packed the wound the best they could. Jake ran his hand over her belly several times, searching for movement, and found none.

  Don’t be dead, Gaston. It would break her heart and … mine. He lifted her into his arms. Deke jerked a blanket off the bunk. They wrapped her in it and, holding her high against his chest, Jake walked out of the shack.

  “I’ll get the cycle.” Deke took off on the run.