Between Hell and Texas (29 page)

Two days of rest and recuperation had Suzzette feeling better than she had in a long time. Before daylight she and Angel Andrews had slipped quietly out of bed and gathered their belongings while Dawson and Carmelita slept in the master bedroom at the other side of the house. Before leaving the house and heading to the barn, Suzzette crept into their room and laid a folded note on a table near the door. She lingered for a moment, looking at the sleeping couple. Then she sighed silently and walked away.

“I don’t know why we’re having to sneak away,” Angel whispered as the two walked out to the barn in a soft circle of light from a lamp Suzzette held above them.

“It’s not that we have to
sneak
away, Angel,” said Suzzette. “It’s just that sometimes it’s better to leave this way. I thanked both of them in the note I left. I just don’t feel like talking about things anymore, do you?”

“Well, no, I suppose not,” said Angel, sticking close beside her as the two of them went inside the barn and readied the team of buckboard horses for the trail.

“Make sure you get these horses rigged on right,”
said Suzzette. “It’s ten miles to where we’re going to meet the stage.”

“I’m not good at this,” said Angel, fumbling with the horses’ traces and tangling them.

“Here, let me have those,” said Suzzette. I’ll take care of the horses. You just climb up in the seat and hold the lamp for me.”

When the buckboard was ready, Suzzette eased the horses forward as quietly as she could. Once out of the barn and up on the trail, she slapped the traces briskly and soon had the wagon moving along at a quick, steady pace. The rough ride caused Angel to press her hat down on her head and hold on firmly with her other hand. “Suzzette, slow down! If the stage runs all along the Old Spanish Trail, can’t we catch it anywhere?”

“Yes,” said Suzzette, “but I want to put some distance between me and them.”

“But why?” asked Angel, having difficulty hanging on. “I thought everything is all right with Carmelita and Crayton and you.”

“It is, Angel,” said Suzzette, not wanting to explain herself right then. “We’ll talk more about it someday…but not now, all right?”

“All right,” said Angel, “but please slow down! If not for me, then at least think about your baby!”

Suzzette didn’t reply, but she did let the horses slow down until the wagon settled a bit. “Well, thank goodness!” Angel remarked.

Suzzette kept the wagon at a slower pace as the horses climbed steadily upward along a switchback trail. When the land flattened onto a higher plateau atop a line of cliffs and deep canyons, Suzzette sped the horses up until they reached a place in the trail
where the stagecoach would have to also slow down as it crested the hills. There she stopped the wagon and visored her hand across her forehead, looking out through the morning sunlight for the stagecoach on the stretch of flatland two hundred feet below. Her eyes followed the snaking trail toward Somos Santos and found a dot on the horizon with a rise of dust drifting above it. “Good,” she said, gazing out into the distance, “All we’ve got to do now is wait.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes watching the dot until it took on the shape of a stagecoach and six horses pounding along the trail. “Once I get to Missouri, I’m never going to do something like this again,” Angel said, as if she’d been in silent contemplation.

“Me neither,” said Suzzette, without taking her eyes off the approaching stage.

“Do you want a boy or a girl?” Angel asked.

“What?” Suzzette asked.

“You know…your baby,” Angel said. “Do you want a boy or a girl?”

“Oh, a boy, of course,” said Suzzette. “A girl doesn’t stand a chance in this world. Only a fool would want to bring a girl child into this world.”

Suzzette’s answer silenced Angel. They sat watching the stage until it disappeared beneath them and started its climb upward along the trail. “Let’s get ready,” said Suzzette, edging the wagon forward until it blocked the trail, giving the stage plenty of time to see it and slow to a stop. “Once he stops for us I’ll pull the wagon over beneath those trees and leave it where Crayton and Carmelita will see it when they come for it.”

Another ten minutes passed before the stage appeared
on the trail, headed toward them. Upon spotting the wagon fifty yards ahead, the driver pulled back on the traces and the brake at the same time, bringing the stage to a gradual halt a few feet away. The driver saw the two women stand up facing him, but he looked all around warily, making sure this wasn’t a trick of some sort. From the window beneath the driver’s seat, Henry Snead called up to him, his voice a bit thick from whiskey-swollen lips, “What are you stopping for?”

“There’s a couple of women up ahead,” the driver called down to him. “Just sit still, I’ll handle it.”

“Like hell I’ll sit still,” Snead mumbled under his breath, rolling up the canvas dust blind. “I’m sick of everybody telling me what to do.” He poked his head out the window enough to get a look at Suzzette and Angel standing in the wagon. Then he ducked his head back inside before they had a chance to see him. “Well, ain’t this something,” he said to himself, his mind already at work inside its whiskey glow.

“Are you having trouble, ladies?” the driver called out, still glancing around for any sign of a trick.

“No trouble,” Suzzette replied. “We just want to leave this buckboard here and ride with you to Eagle Pass.”

“Well…” The driver let his words trail. “As you see I have no shotgun rider today. “Let me pull over and I’ll get your luggage aboard.”

“We’ll bring it to you,” said Suzzette, the two of them sitting down long enough for her to rein the horses forward, coming to a stop alongside the stage.

“That’s even better,” the driver said, grinning through his thick gray mustache. Suzzette and Angel
stood up again, Angel lifting the first of their bags up to the driver. But before the driver could take the bag and set it atop the stage behind him, the door swung open and Henry Snead leaned out, hanging onto the stage with his left hand. “Not so fast!” he growled. “Everybody stay like you are!” In his right hand he held his Colt, cocked and pointed into Angel Andrews’s face.

“Hey, what’s going on here?” the stage driver asked, seeing the gun pointed at the women. “Is this a robbery?”

“No, it’s not a robbery, you fool!” said Snead. “So shut your mouth and do like I tell you.”

“Are you women with him?” the driver asked.

“Does it look like they’re with me?” Snead responded before either woman could answer. “Don’t make me tell you again to
shut up
! You meddling old bastard!”

“I’ll shut up, but there’s no need in that kind of language in front of these ladies,” the driver managed to say quickly, still getting the last word in.

“Ladies, ha!” said Snead. “Haven’t you ever seen these two before? Haven’t you ever been to the Silver Seven in Somos Santos?”

“I don’t frequent low places,” the driver said.

“If you did,” said Snead, “you’d realize that these are no ladies. They’ve laid down with every man in these parts.”

“Except
you
, Snead,” Suzzette said boldly. “Does that tell you something about yourself?”

Snead stared coldly at her. “You’re Cray Dawson’s sweetheart, ain’t you?”

“No,” said Suzzette, seeing something dark brewing behind Snead’s red-rimmed eyes. “I know Dawson…but that’s all there is to it.”

“Bull!” said Snead. “I understand you’re carrying his bastard kid in your belly! I expect if I had you under my arm he’d do about whatever I told him to do, wouldn’t he?”

“You’re drunk, Snead,” said Suzzette, noting that all the while he talked he never took the gun away from Angel’s face.

“Naw, I’m not drunk,” he said. “Not too drunk to see what’s just fell into my lap here.” He swung up out of the stagecoach and onto the wagon, grunting with the pain from his injuries, but managing not to stagger as he straightened up and steadied himself.

“Get back in this coach!” the driver said, “or I’ll take off and leave you!”

Snead looked up at him and laughed, saying, “Now there’s an idea, old timer! Why don’t you just get this rig on out of here? I’ll stay here and ride with these
ladies
!”

“I don’t know what you’ve got in that small mind of yours, Snead,” said Suzzette, “but whatever it is—”

“I ain’t going nowhere!” the driver said defiantly. “You get that gun down and leave these womenfolk alone!”

“I’ve listened to all I’m going to out of you, fool!” said Snead, turning his gun toward the stage driver.

Suzzette saw Snead’s knuckles turn white, saw his grip tighten, saw the killing look in his eyes. “No, wait, Snead! Don’t shoot him!” She looked up at the driver and said, “You go on! We’ll be all right. Don’t worry about us.”

“Are you sure, ma’am?” the driver asked. “I don’t like the looks of this. I ain’t leaving unless you ladies are safe.”

Suzzette saw the sawed-off shotgun standing
against the seat beside him and realized that at any second he might make a grab for it. She knew Snead would kill him before his hand ever closed around the shotgun. “Believe me, we’ll be all right, Mister,” said Suzzette, sounding as tough and bold as she could. “Like he was telling you…we’re both whores. We know what he wants from us. Now get out of here!”

Henry Snead stood watching the stage pull away, the old driver looking back but making no attempt to reach for the shotgun. Snead aimed the pistol back at the two women but let it slump a little. He grinned, saying to Suzzette, “You’re pretty smart for a whore. I should have come on up and visited you back in Somos Santos.” Then his grin faded as his memory took hold. “I know you saw what your boyfriend did to me, in front of the whole town.”

“He’s not my boyfriend, Snead,” Suzzette insisted. “Try to get that out of your head, if you can.”

“Well then,” said Snead, raising the pistol again, “since he’s nothing to you, you won’t mind me shooting a few holes in his belly, will you?”

“I don’t want to see anybody get shot, Snead,” she replied firmly. “But when it comes to you shooting Cray Dawson, I’d say you’d have a better chance lassoing a wildcat. Dawson is a man, a
real
man. Don’t mistake yourself for one; it’ll tangle you up every time.”

“I hate a smart-mouthed
whore
,” said Snead, swinging the pistol toward her, his face telling her it took all of his control to keep from shooting her.

Suzzette cautioned herself to ease up off of Snead and see what it was going to take to get rid of him.
“Hey, take it easy, Snead,” she said. “I thought we both knew I was teasing you.” As she spoke she took off her small feathered hat, pulled a long pin from her hair and shook it out. “Don’t you enjoy a little teasing now and then?”

Snead looked her up and down, thinking about her offer, seeing what she had in mind. For a moment he was tempted. But then he shook his head and said, “No, I ain’t being sidetracked. I’m going to Dawson’s with you riding close up beside me with the Colt tickling your ear. I’m calling Dawson out and killing him, deader than hell.” He bit his lip, then added as he remembered Lematte’s words, “I’m going to put your boyfriend’s head on a stick and take it to Somos Santos.”

Suzzette took her time answering, looking him up and down first. “Snead, do you really think I’ll take you to Dawson, even if my life depended on it?” She unbuttoned her top buttons and spread her dress open. “So come on, put that out of your mind. Here, take a look at these.” She cupped her breasts toward him, caressing them slowly. “Wouldn’t it be more fun, the three of us? In this wagon? Naked? Under those big ole shade trees over there?” She smiled seductively. “No charge?”

“God almighty!” said Snead, his breath quickening at the sight of her bare breasts. He shot a glance toward the trees as if considering the possibilities.

“Make up your mind, Henry,” Suzzette said softly. “We’ve got to get busy. We’ve still got a stage to catch.” She gave a slight nod toward the trail ahead.

Seeing Suzzette work on him, Angel joined in, saying, “This is going to really be fun. I’ll show everything Lematte taught me to do to him.”

Snead almost gasped aloud. “You don’t mean…?”

“That’s
exactly
what she means, Henry,” said Suzzette, cutting in. “I’ve seen her do it. Whew! I went all crazy inside just watching.”

Snead gave another nervous glance toward the trees. But then he seemed to shake the idea off and say, “I’ve got plenty time for that later.”

“No, Henry,” said Suzzette. “There is no
later
.” She reached a hand around as if ready to pull off her dress. “If you want some of this, let’s get to it, before that stage gets too far away for us to catch up to it.”

“Uh-uh, there’s time,” said Snead. “As long as I’ve got this gun on you…I’m the one in charge of time.” He stepped over and grabbed Angel by her wrist and shoved her toward the seat. Then he shoved Suzzette into the driver’s seat and said, “You drive! And don’t forget, I’m right behind you.”

Suzzette started to turn the wagon in the opposite direction, away from the
hacienda
. But Snead cocked the pistol and jammed the tip of it against the back of Angel’s head. “Don’t try playing me for a fool!” he warned Suzzette. “Or I’ll blow her head off. I’ve heard where Dawson is staying. Now turn around and go that way! I’ll give you one more chance to do like I tell you. Your next mistake will get your friend a bullet in her head!”

“All right, Henry!” said Suzzette, seeing that he was on the verge of making good his threats. “I’m sorry,
please
settle down! I won’t try anything like that again.”

Suzzette turned the wagon in the direction of the
hacienda
while her mind raced, wondering what to do. “Henry, you’re not really going to kill Dawson
over him giving you a beating, are you? I mean, you gave
him
a beating; he didn’t come back and kill you.”

“That’s right,” said Snead, taking out his bottle of whiskey as the wagon rocked along the rough trail. “And that was his big mistake. I’m going to kill him, and I’m going to kill him so slow he’ll beg me to hurry up and get it over. I want to hear some screaming, and plenty of it.” He threw back a drink and said, “Before I kill him, I’ll be sure and remind him it was you who brought me to him.” He chuckled aloud.