by P McCormac
Cogan went on stroking. The mule turned its head and gazed up at Cogan. He stared into big violet eyes, poised to leap out of range of those deadly teeth. The mule snickered enigmatically then went back to chomping leaves.
CHAPTER 15
When O’Leary and his companion departed the shack, Alward wrapped the dank-smelling ore sacks around him and tried to sleep. But sleep was as elusive as it had been during the night when O’Leary’s mad rambling had kept him awake.
He wondered what had happened to drive the old man to such a state. From the conversation between his father and Cogan, he had learned that the old man had had an altercation with his daughters.
Alward remembered the O’Leary women, and their hard-bitten and arrogant husbands. He had met them at the jamboree they had attended in honour of O’Leary’s retirement. The women had seemed too sophisticated and calculating for Alward’s taste. He liked his women soft, compliant and loving.
‘Xaviera.’
He spoke the name softly. An empty feeling overwhelmed him and he left the corner where he had been resting and walked to the door. The youngster stared out into the darkness. The storm had passed and left in its wake a light rain. Hot tears spilled down, trickling into the stubble on his cheeks.
Alward Gallagher was trying to come to terms with the fact that his life was changed forever. The young, carefree dude was now a destitute saddle bum. All the things he had enjoyed in the past were lost to him forever: his love trysts with Xaviera, his comfortable life back in California Crossing, his father and brother.
At last he stifled his sobs, rubbing the tears from his eyes, unconsciously smearing grime on to his face and beard. The elegant young fop from California Crossing was, bit by bit, being effaced, and a grubby hobo was gradually taking his place.
‘Monday, where the hell are you? I need to know what’s happening.’
Remembering the horse Monday had lent him, he made his way into the mineshaft and led the animal out and around the back of the shack. There was grass growing there and he hobbled the horse near a water trough brimming with rainwater. He stood watching the animal feed for a while before retracing his steps around the front of the shack to resume his lonely vigil.
The daylight was well advanced with the sun struggling to break through thick cloud when he spotted movement on the slopes below. He did not change his position for he was inside the doorway of the shack and could not be seen.
There were two riders and he watched as they made their way up the trail. Their progress was slow and torturous to watch. As they drew near he could see a lead rope between the two riders. Alward could not imagine who it was coming up to the old deserted mine, needing to lead someone. He began to wonder if this was indeed Monday or someone else altogether. There was nothing to do, only watch and wait. Then he recognized the leading rider.
It was Charlie Turley, the oldster who ran the livery stable. The puzzling thing was the identity of the rider trailing behind. As far as Alward could make out, the man was blindfolded. He pulled the sacking close around him and stepped outside.
‘Halloa there,’ Charlie called out to the hooded figure.
‘The Lord gives and the Lord takes away,’ replied Alward in a high pitched chant. ‘Repent your sins now and the Lord will forgive. All those who seek forgiveness will not be driven from the face of the Lord. . . .’
Alward’s voice trailed away. It was only now he recognized the man on the second horse. He forced himself to continue.
‘Repent, you sinners, repent. The day of judgement will soon be upon us.’
The riders pulled up. Alward ceased his ranting and stared at his blindfolded father.
‘That must be the preacher fella,’ Gallagher said.
‘I guess so,’ Charlie replied. ‘No sign of anyone else, though.’
‘Preacher, what happened to the two men as were here last night?’ Gallagher asked his son. ‘Have they moved on?’
‘Aye, they departed in the night,’ Alward said. ‘I know not where they went.’
‘Thank God at least for that. Maybe they’ll be safe.’
The youngster stared in some distress at his father. He needed to know why he was blindfolded.
‘How did you sin, my friend? Are you hiding your eyes from this world of shame?’
Charlie Turley climbed down from his mount and went to assist Gallagher.
‘His eyes was put out, Preacher. O’Leary’s hellcat daughter did it. I weren’t there to see it myself. Maybe he’ll tell you himself what happened.’
‘His eyes. . .’Alward’s voice faltered, then remembered his role. ‘A hellcat you say? Has the gates of hell been broken down and the denizens allowed to roam the streets? Was there the smell of brimstone at her appearance?’
Gallagher, with Charlie’s help, had dismounted by now. It was he who answered Alward.
‘It was not brimstone but tobacco. O’Leary’s daughter, Rachel stubbed her cigarette out in my eyes.’ He touched the rough bandage covering his eyes. ‘Charlie here looked after me. Put some liniment on and bandaged me.’
Charlie guided the blind man towards the shack.
‘It was ointment I use on the horse’s eyes when they get sore. I guess it won’t do no harm to use it on burned eyes. Should be all right in a day or two.’
The oldster shook his head in a negative manner while passing his hand across his own eyes. They reached the door of the shack. Alward could only stare helplessly at his bandaged father. He ached to reach out and touch him but was afraid to betray himself.
‘Hast the Lord gave him no children to assist him?’ he asked instead.
‘Children!’ snorted Gallagher. ‘Hah! My own son betrayed me. My own son!’
‘The children of Beelzebub go without shame on the streets,’ Alward wailed. ‘When the Lord comes he will blast them into the everlasting flames of hell. Woe to all sinners, for on that day, which will be the end of days, the wrath of God will be great.’
‘Come here, Preacher,’ Gallagher said.
Alward moved close to his father. The blind man reached out and touched his son’s face, running his hand over the stubble and grime.
‘I remember you from last night. I had a son once. He would have been about your age. I treated him wrong. Drove him from me. The son I took to my bosom betrayed me. Now I have no children. I am like O’Leary now. One child betrayed and one child fled.’
Alward turned to Charlie and shrugged his shoulders, at the same time indicating with his hands that he was at a loss to understand what Gallagher was talking about.
‘He has two sons, Preacher,’ the oldster said. ‘One a breed – a bastard by a squaw. The other was his natural son. The half-breed joined forces with the O’Leary females and helped blind him. No one knows what happened to Alward, his other son. There was some trouble over a Mex girl. That’s all I know.’
‘Preacher, if I tell you the way I want to go, will you guide me?’ Gallagher intervened. ‘I need to follow those two men who were here last night. I know where they are headed but I cannot find the way on my own. Will you be my eyes?’
‘Your son betrayed you,’ Alward whispered. ‘Surely that cannot be true? Blood is thicker than water.’
‘It’s true, Preacher. My son, Monday, delivered me into the hands of that she-devil, Rachel. She put my eyes out with no more thought than she would stamp on a beetle. Will you help me? My way is long and dark.’
‘I will go inside the temple and pray for guidance,’ Alward answered. ‘Perhaps it is the Lord’s will that I become your staff. Bide awhile. I must parley with the Lord.’
Inside the dim hut, Alward sat and stared at the rectangle of light that was the doorway, his head a confusion of emotions. Monday’s betrayal was almost as great a shock as was the blinding of his father. Alward sat there, trying to get his mind around the crazy turn of events and could make no sense of any of it. He stared hopelessly into space as he listened to the two men outside.
‘What’s
the preacher fella doing now, Charlie?’
‘He’s gone inside the shack. Guess he must be praying. What you going to do now? Were you banking on finding them two fellas here?’
‘It doesn’t matter that they’re gone if the preacher will be my guide. Those two men were O’Leary and an old friend. His name was Cogan. He had been a scout for O’Leary before his daughters took over.’
‘Where was this fella Cogan taking him then?’
‘When O’Leary threw out his youngest daughter, Catlin without a cent, it was me as gave her a stake. She wanted to set up a horse ranch in Nevada. Had a place all sorted out, but when her father disowned her, that looked like the end of her plans. Then I stepped in and staked her and her man. They went ahead and bought the ranch. I own a part share in it. That’s where I told Cogan to take O’Leary. Figured he would be safe there. Now I need a safe haven myself.’
‘Well, you’d better hope God’s on your side and allows that preacher fella to help you.’
Alward stepped back outside again.
‘I will lift up mine eyes to the hills and become a beacon to those in darkness,’ he intoned. ‘Come, poor eyeless one. I am to be your guide. I shall be your staff to lean on in the days of travail that lie ahead. We will become pilgrims and journey through the valley of darkness.’
‘Well, I guess that solves your problem, Gallagher,’ Charlie Turley observed. ‘Looks like this preacher fella’s going to take you on after all.’
‘Aye, these are strange times when the blind are led by the mad. But that, it seems to me, is the way of this world.’
CHAPTER 16
Barren Drum was a hive of activity. Riders were constantly coming and going. In the past when O’Leary needed men, he had recruited them in much smaller numbers. This was the first time in living memory such a large band of men had been assembled for a job. The nature of the business in hand was secret, which was only to be expected in an outlaw community. Spies and informers were everywhere and a job could be compromised if details leaked out.
In the midst of this anthill of activity, Gertrude sat in a room inside the main house. While preparations for the raid went on she sat naked before her mirror and brooded. From time to time she touched her hair or angled her face in an effort to observe her profile.
‘I know he found me attractive,’ she murmured.
She placed her hands beneath full breasts and gently moved them up and down. Her nipples had been further enhanced with rouge. She pursed fleshy lips and looked coyly at her image.
‘When I kissed him I could feel his excitement as we touched. I know he wanted me.’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘Rachel has been very cunning. She sent me here to be out of the way so she could have him to herself. I know that bitch.’ Suddenly she giggled. ‘She is a frail sister.’ Sobering again, she stared hard into the mirror. ‘My heart constricts to think of my erring sister and Monday together. She shall not have him. He is too young and innocent for the likes of her to blight.’
Further ruminations were interrupted by a knock on the door.
‘Who is it?’ she called.
‘Lovell, madam. I’m back.’
When she opened the door to the underling, she was dressed in a silken robe that revealed more than it covered. Lovell stared at his mistress with his slightly bulging cow’s eyes.
‘Ma’am. . .’ he stammered as she held the door wide and gestured for him to enter.
‘What news?’ she asked tartly, as he shuffled self-consciously into the room.
‘It’s all good, ma’am. They captured the traitor Gallagher. He refused to confirm what Monday had told. However, Rachel took Monday’s word over Gallagher. She thinks Gallagher sent your father on to Catlin’s ranch. Rachel has men out looking for O’Leary. He should be taken soon—’
‘How was my sister?’ Gertrude cut in sharply. ‘How was she with Monday?’
‘They were on very good terms, ma’am. He helped her when she burnt out Gallagher’s eyes.’
‘Burnt out his eyes?’ Rachel exclaimed. ‘My sister excels herself. And Monday helped her. What was Cornwell doing while this was going on?’
‘Before he was taken, Gallagher shot Cornwell.’
‘What! My sister a widow! And alone with Monday.’
As Rachel turned away from Lovell, the door opened and Alec walked in.
‘Bad news about Cornwell,’ he remarked, as he closed the door behind him. ‘I hope this don’t stop Rachel. We need men who can rally behind her.’
‘Apparently not,’ Gertrude replied nonchalantly. ‘It seems she has recruited a new ally in Monday.’
‘The breed!’ Alec nodded thoughtfully. ‘As long as he has the backing of Gallagher’s crew it sounds like a shrewd move. It looks as if the information he passed on about Catlin and Frank was on the up and up.’ He shook his head in admiration. ‘Rachel sure covers all the angles.’ He missed the venomous look his wife darted at him. ‘In that case we should move out in the morning. If we don’t give these rannies something to do soon, they’ll start fighting amongst themselves.’
Alec turned to the portly messenger who was trying to look anywhere but at his mistress.
‘Lovell, do you know where Rachel is at now?’
‘Sure, boss, her and Monday are taking the trail towards Nevada and Catlin’s horse ranch. Rachel sends word she won’t do nothing until you come up and join her. You’re to rendezvous at Matador Chimney.’
‘Good, I’ve drawn up a plan of action. You get over there and tell Rachel we’re on our way. Tell her we should have close to thirty men. . . Oh, hell, I’ll write it all down with the rendezvous and all. That way you won’t leave anything out. Be ready to ride shortly.’
Alec turned abruptly and left.
‘Ma’am.’
Lovell nodded obsequiously to his mistress and turned to follow Alec.
‘Wait,’ the woman ordered.
Gertrude went to a chest and sat writing a note. She sealed it and turned to the fat man.
‘Can I trust you, Lovell?’ she asked.
‘You have my life on it,’ he swore.
‘This note is for Monday. No one else must see it. I don’t trust Rachel. I worry she has some other agenda in mind. I need to know what she is plotting. This note should get me some answers. But no one – I repeat, no one – must see this. It is for Monday’s eyes only. Is that clear?’
Lovell took the note and pushed it inside his shirt.
‘I am your trusted servant, ma’am. I would die for you.’
And looking at the voluptuous woman before him, at that moment Lovell almost believed his own avowal.
CHAPTER 17
The large herd of horses was hard to keep together over the rough terrain but Eulitereo Cardinalle was proud of the way his vaqueros worked them. The order for the horses had come from a ranch up in Nevada just over the border with California.
Right now he was looking for a suitable place to bed the herd down for the night. Though it was still early he was growing uneasy as he observed a mass of dark clouds out to the east. Eulitereo knew a thunderstorm was heading in their direction. There was a possibility it would pass them by, but he could not take the risk of a bad storm spooking the horses. He signalled to his head vaquero, Felipe Manola, a burly young man with a thick black moustache that made him look older than his twenty-two years.
‘Storm coming, boss,’ Felipe called. ‘We need to find a safe place for the night.’
‘Ride on ahead, Felipe,’ Eulitereo told him. ‘See if you can find somewhere to sit out the storm. Can’t have the herd spooked this late in our drive. Another day should bring us to our destination.’
‘Sí.’
Felipe spurred away and Eulitereo cast another anxious glance at the dark horizon. Felipe located a narrow draw within a few miles and Eulitereo drove his precious herd inside and posted riders to keep the horses contained.
Sometime during the night the storm hit. Thunder roared and the lightning lit up the sky. Rain
pounded on sombreros and equipment, making it difficult to see anything. It took the best efforts of Eulitereo’s men to contain the frightened horses. When morning came and the storm drifted off towards the east, the men were exhausted and the horses agitated and skittish.
‘We’ll rest up here until midday,’ Eulitereo informed his weary vaqueros. ‘Give us a chance to recover. By then the horses won’t be so jumpy. They’ll be somewhat easier to handle. All that rain has given them plenty to drink and maybe we’ll find pasture later today.’
With a few men riding herd, the remainder of the vaqueros lounged around the campfire, taking it easy and recuperating from a night of hard riding. It had been a fraught several hours while the storm raged around them. The vaqueros had worked hard making sure the herd did not become frightened and bolt. Now they relaxed and smoked and drank coffee and talked amongst themselves.
It was about mid-morning when they heard the racket. Men lifted their heads and listened. Strange echoing cries drifted down the arroyo. The vaqueros looked at each other and frowned. Eulitereo walked to the edge of the camp and stared in the direction from which the eerie wailing was coming.
‘This place is haunted,’ someone suggested.
And indeed the strange noises seemed not of human origin. The wailing rose and fell and the men glanced uneasily at each other. Even the horses were becoming restless. A few of the vaqueros crossed themselves and fingered religious emblems strung within their clothing.
‘It is someone singing,’ Eulitereo decided.
Around him his men inclined their heads as they listened. The words came fluttering down the draw and the vaqueros listened to the lament of the singer.
Of all the poor fools who inhabit the earth,
Fools by misfortune, or fools from their birth,
Rich fools and poor fools, and great fools and small,
The man who has daughters is the greatest of all.
As the singer hove into sight and perceived the camp he ceased his song. He walked his mount right up to the fire.
