Ambush at Shadow Valley (26 page)

‘‘Lie still, Caplan,'' Sam said.

‘‘It won't matter . . . will it, Ranger?'' Caplan asked with a weak but knowing look. ‘‘I'm never stepping up from here.''

Sam let out a breath, knowing it was true. ‘‘Where's Suelo Soto?'' he asked bluntly. ‘‘These Satan's Brothers are his people.''

‘‘I don't tell . . . nothing to the law, Ranger,'' Caplan said, his eyes glazing over.

‘‘Listen to me, Caplan,'' Sam said, still holding his guts in for him. ‘‘Suelo Soto is likely going to have these demons kill every one of you. Is that what you want?''

‘‘Nice try . . . Ranger,'' Caplan murmured.

‘‘Listen to me,'' Sam insisted. ‘‘I'm not after any of you, not Beck, not any of your pards. Just Soto, do you understand me?''

‘‘Just Soto, eh?'' Caplan mumbled the words, then managed to get the strength to say, ‘‘I know that snake . . . was behind this.''

‘‘That's right, he was,'' Sam said. ‘‘I want to get to him before he kills anybody else. Beck could be next. You boys made a bad mistake this time. You didn't take in a thief like yourselves. You took in a bloodthirsty murderer. Help me fix it.''

‘‘Beck kept the woman . . . chased him off. I don't know where . . . he went,'' Caplan said, sounding weaker, more distant.

‘‘Then where're Beck and the woman headed?'' Sam asked, deciding Soto wasn't about to stand for Beck taking the woman away from him.

‘‘Pier—Pierman's place . . . near the border,'' Caplan said, starting to gasp for his breath. ‘‘If you're lying to me . . . I'll see you in . . .''

His words trailed as his last breath fell to a whisper, then stopped. Sam turned loose of his stomach and said quietly, ‘‘I'm not lying to you, Earl Caplan. Soto's the devil I want.''

Beside the ranger, Hector stood into a crouch and walked along, studying three sets of hoofprints on the ground as they led off into the white oaks. ‘‘Two of these demons at the hacienda, now three more here,'' he said. ‘‘Suelo Soto has all of the demons of Shadow Valley doing his bidding. They will not stop until everybody is dead.''

Sam stood up, his gloved hands covered with Caplan's blood. ‘‘Or until they know Soto himself is dead,'' he said with grim determination.

‘‘Which way do we go now?'' Hector asked.

‘‘Back to the hacienda,'' Sam said. ‘‘Caplan said Beck's gone there with the woman. If he has the woman, Soto and his demons won't be far behind.'' Sam looked off in the direction of the hacienda and added, ‘‘Those bodies we dragged out onto the porch ought to tip him off that Soto's demons are prowling around.''

Chapter 22

Before Sam and Hector had ridden five miles, looking to their left they saw another body, this one propped against a cottonwood only a few yards off the trail. From seventy yards away it appeared to be a man lying asleep; yet upon approaching cautiously, they saw that both arms and legs had been severed, and all that leaned against the tree was the bloody torso, its stomach slashed open from crotch to sternum.

‘‘This is Bowen Flannery,'' Sam commented quietly, gazing at the blank, dead stare on Flannery's face. The man's fingers lay scattered about like trinkets spilled from a broken necklace.

Again Hector made the sign of the cross, but this time he sat in his saddle in silence and watched Sam walk over and look all around on the ground as if searching for clues. Sam shook his head after a moment and said as if speaking to the dead train robber, ‘‘There's little we can do for you, right now, Bowen Flannery. We need to push on if we're ever going to stop this man and his demons.''

As Sam stepped back into his saddle and turned the stallion to the trail, Hector asked, ‘‘When you say demons, are you mocking me and my people's belief in such creatures?''

‘‘No, I'm not,
Guardia
,'' Sam said in earnest. ‘‘I apologize if I've given you that idea. I surely didn't mean to.''

‘‘Gracias,''
said Hector. They rode in silence for a moment. Then Hector said, ‘‘So, you yourself believe in
demons
? You believe Suelo Soto is a
demon
?''

Gazing ahead, Sam replied flatly, ‘‘No, I don't. I surely didn't mean to give that idea either.''

‘‘Then what is it you believe?'' Hector pressed, looking curiously at the ranger.

‘‘I believe there is such a thing as evil,'' Sam said, ‘‘and I believe we're facing a powerful lot of it in Soto and his demons.''

‘‘You do not believe there is a force of Satan directing these demons? That Soto or any of them possess Satan's power?''

Sam turned and looked at him. ‘‘I believe that their
belief
in the force of Satan is as strong and evil as anything Satan could conjure up on his own.''

‘‘But you do not believe that Satan himself is real, or that he has power over man?''

‘‘Real? I'm not the one to ask,'' Sam said. ‘‘But the more I acknowledge Satan's power, whether he's real or not, the more power I give up to him. Suelo Soto's demons are only as powerful as I allow them to be over me.''

Hector thought about it. ‘‘Then you have no fear in facing them?''

‘‘No,'' Sam replied, ‘‘I had better not, unless I want them to win. When a man becomes too afraid of his enemy, he'll give up his fight without firing a shot. He starts to think it's useless to even try.'' He looked at Hector with a raised brow and asked, ‘‘What about you,
Guardia
, are you afraid of your enemies . . . afraid to even fight your demons?''

‘‘You saw me kill one of the demons who stood over me while I sat sleeping,'' Hector said in defense. ‘‘You tell me if I am afraid.''

Sam allowed himself a thin smile. ‘‘You're afraid of nothing, Hector. But you're still young enough to question those things you were raised to believe in.''

‘‘You do not question those things you were raised to believe in?'' Hector asked.

‘‘No,'' said Sam, ‘‘my job is to stop evil men, not question evil itself. The evil I see in some men would cause Satan to run for cover.'' He nudged his stallion forward; Hector did the same beside him.

They rode on.

By midafternoon, the two stopped in the shelter of the treed hillside overlooking the Pierman hacienda. Gazing down onto the front yard and checking all around for any sign of Soto or his Satan's Brothers, Sam said, ‘‘Seems peaceful enough down there. But for all we know, Soto and Beck could be lying in wait. As much as I want to believe Memphis Beck would have no hand in what we've seen, he's still an outlaw . . . a tricky one at that.''

Looking at the big paint horse standing beside Beck's at the hitch rail, Hector said almost with a sigh, ‘‘There is my brother Ramon's horse. I am taking it back with me, the way Ramon would want me to do. . . .''

Inside the hacienda, Beck looked out the window with a pair of binoculars raised to his eyes, a rifle leaning on the wall beside him. He scanned the hillside and trail for any sign of Soto or the men in their white peasant clothes, like the two whose bodies he had dragged inside the hacienda and into the bedroom earlier. ‘‘Two riders coming, Clair,'' he said over his shoulder to Clarimonde, who had gathered the dead men's straw hats and stood feeding them into the hearth fire.

Beck took the binoculars down from his eyes and continued watching the two figures as Clarimonde slipped in beside him. ‘‘It's Ranger Burrack,'' Beck said, recognizing the ranger's pearl gray sombrero, then the man himself. ‘‘I don't know who the other man is.''

‘‘Is this going to be trouble?'' Clarimonde asked quietly, staring out with him.

‘‘Sam Burrack is always trouble,'' Beck said. ‘‘But he's fair for a lawman. Anyway, he's got nothing on us. We'll see what he wants and try to get rid of him as quickly as we can.''

As Sam and Hector neared the weathered and crumbling hacienda, Beck called out from the open window, ‘‘That's close enough, Burrack. The next step gets you a bullet in the belly.''

The ranger motioned for Hector to stop his horse beside him. Then he allowed his stallion one more step and brought him to a halt. ‘‘I'm hunting Suelo Soto,'' Sam called out.

‘‘He's not here. What else?'' Beck replied, the barrel of his rifle visible at the open window ledge.

‘‘I didn't think he would be,'' Sam said. ‘‘But I believe he will be soon enough.''

‘‘Oh? Why's that?'' Beck asked.

‘‘Because he and his pards, in white clothes and straw sombreros, are tracking your men down, killing them one by one,'' Sam said. ‘‘We've found two of them dead so far.''

Beck winced at the thought. But knowing the ranger wouldn't be lying to him about such a thing, he had to ask, ‘‘Who'd you find, Burrack?''

‘‘We found Earl Caplan, not far from the train robbery,'' Sam said. ‘‘Then we found Bowen Flannery, four or five miles farther on. They'd both been robbed. Both of them were hacked to death with machetes.''

Beck made no reply. After a silence, Sam asked, ‘‘Do you have the goatherd's daughter, Clarimonde, with you?''

‘‘Yes, she's with me,'' said Beck.

‘‘You've got to set her free,'' Sam said. ‘‘We're taking her back where she belongs.''

‘‘I'm not giving her up, Ranger,'' Beck said. ‘‘She doesn't want to leave me. You see what kind of murderer Soto is. What do you think he'll do to her if she's on her own right now?''

Sam couldn't argue with his reasoning, but he said anyway, ‘‘If she wants to stay, I'll have to hear it from her. She'll have to make me believe it.''

‘‘Tell him,'' Soto said to Clarimonde, standing beside him.

‘‘I'm staying with Memphis,'' Clarimonde called out the window.

Sam and Hector looked at each other, both glad to hear her voice, after all their time trying to catch up to her. But then Sam called out, ‘‘That's not good enough, Beck. Both of you step out on the porch and put some space between you. I want to believe she doesn't have a gun to her back.''

Beck shook his head. ‘‘Always the rough, tough lawman, eh, Ranger?'' he said.

‘‘Out on the porch, right now, Beck,'' Sam repeated, without acknowledging Beck's words. ‘‘I want to see her and know she's all right.''

Slowly Clarimonde stepped out of the hacienda and to one side of the porch, Beck coming out cautiously beside her, the rifle raised in his hands. ‘‘I'm keeping you covered, Burrack,'' Beck said, his thumb over the rifle hammer. ‘‘Don't try anything.''

‘‘Hector, if you hear his rifle cock,'' Sam said, ‘‘don't wait for me. You drop him.''

"Sí
, I understand,'' Hector replied, his hand on his holstered gun butt.

‘‘Ma'am,'' the ranger said, touching the brim of his sombrero toward Clarimonde, ‘‘we're both grateful to see you alive and well. Now, if you'll please move farther away from Memphis Beck, we'd be obliged.''

Clarimonde did as she was told, but only after a nod from Beck. ‘‘I'm all right as you can see, Ranger,'' she said, ‘‘and I do appreciate you both searching for me.'' She looked back and forth between Hector and the ranger. ‘‘It wasn't Memphis Beck or any of his men who kidnapped me. It was Soto and Nate Ransdale, nobody else.''

‘‘We know that, ma'am,'' said Sam. ‘‘We followed the string of killing and bloodletting those two left behind them.'' He looked her up and down, making certain for himself that she wasn't being forced to say anything against her will. ‘‘I've got some good news for you. Your shepherd dog that Soto thought he killed was alive and mending when we left the old mission. I expect she'll be eager to see you real soon.''

‘‘Oh my, Bess is alive. . . .'' Clarimonde raised her hands to her mouth; her eyes welled. She turned, teary-eyed and smiling, toward Beck, to whom she had told everything on their way to the hacienda.

‘‘We're obliged, you both coming here,'' Beck said to the ranger. ‘‘As you can see, she's all right. I won't let nothing happen to her. You've got my word on that.'' He stared closely at Sam and said, ‘‘As long as Soto thinks she's alive, not only she, but her father and their animals are not safe. You know what Soto is. You know I'm right.''

‘‘Hector and I are taking him down, Beck,'' Sam said with determination.

‘‘Best of luck, Ranger, but you and Hector haven't done it yet,'' Beck replied.

Sam stared at him, realizing that he had a plan of some sort in mind. Knowing Beck, whatever it was, it would be as good as any he and Hector could come up with. As long as Soto and any of his demons remained alive, Sam understood that Clarimonde's father and their way of life would be in danger. That was something he and Beck could both agree on.

Seeing the conversation about to wind down, Hector said to Beck as he pointed to the big paint horse, ‘‘That horse belonged to my brother. Suelo Soto killed him for it. I must take it back.''

‘‘Take it,'' said Beck.

Hector eased his horse over, lifted the paint's reins from the hitch rail and pulled the animal in beside him.

‘‘Where's he headed, Beck?'' Sam asked suddenly.

‘‘Back to where he came from, Ranger,'' Beck said without hesitation, both of them knowing he was talking about Suelo Soto.