Missing Patriarch (9781101613399) (9 page)

TWENTY-NINE

Clint and Willis stopped and looked out over the Rio Grande.

“Can we ride across that?” Willis asked. “Looks like it's moving pretty fast.”

“We'll find a place to cross,” Clint said.

“What about the tracks we were following?”

“We'll pick them up again on the other side,” Clint said.

Willis wasn't so sure.

“Will the horses be okay?”

“The horses will be fine,” Clint assured him. “Don't worry.”

“I can't really swim,” Willis said.

“Just stay in the saddle,” Clint said, “and the horse will take you across.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. Just follow me.”

Clint gigged his horse and started toward the river. Willis waited a moment, then followed, still not sure he was going to make it to the other side.

They rode for a few minutes, then Clint turned and said, “We'll cross here.”

“If you say so.”

“I'll go first,” Clint said. “All you have to watch for is anything dangerous coming down the river.”

“Dangerous?”

“I mean like a big branch or log,” Clint said. “You don't want to get hit by anything.”

“But what if—” Willis started, but he stopped when Clint urged Eclipse into the river.

He watched as Clint and Eclipse expertly negotiated the river. He saw what Clint meant about giving the horse his head. Eclipse seemed to know exactly what to do, and there was no flotsam coming down the river, heading for them.

Eventually, Clint got to the other side, turned, and waved to Willis.

Willis gigged his horse forward. The animal stepped gingerly into the water, and Willis wondered if his horse had ever done anything like this before.

They moved into the water, which eventually came up to his knees. Willis kept looking upriver for logs, trees, or maybe a shark. He'd been on a ship once, had seen sharks and, at one point, a whale. Whales were too big for the river, but the Rio Grande would accommodate a shark just fine.

The horse began to cross with authority and Willis felt that he had been concerned for no reason. Yeah, he was more comfortable in a courtroom than on a horse, but this wasn't so bad.

Suddenly, he became aware that Clint was yelling and waving to him. It looked like he was pointing upriver. Willis looked and saw a large tree branch coming toward him. There were branches sticking up from the water, but in the water was a solid chunk of tree.

“Damn it,” he said, kicking his horse in the sides to try and get it to go faster. He wished he had spurs on.

The branch kept getting closer, and it seemed to him that he and the horse were just treading water—then suddenly there was ground beneath them, and the horse was taking him onto shore as the tree went by.

Clint rode over to meet him.

“I thought you were going to ride in right after me,” he said.

“I decided to watch you do it,” Willis said. He hadn't realized how out of breath he was.

“Well, you're lucky that tree missed you,” Clint said. “Your horse knew what to do.”

Willis opened his mouth to speak, but he still hadn't caught his breath.

“Take a minute and relax,” Clint said. “I'm going to check up and down the river for tracks.”

Willis dismounted, then his legs went out on him and he found himself sitting on the ground. He held on to his horse's reins, though, so the animal didn't go wandering off.

He tried to breathe.

*   *   *

Clint rode along the river's edge, trying to find tracks left by the gang, but it had been days since they had forded the river.

He moved away from the river's shore a bit, and that was when he found the tracks. He rode back to Willis, who was sitting on the ground, panting.

“You okay?”

Willis waved.

“I found their tracks,” he said. “You up to moving on?”

Willis waved again, staggered to his feet. Clint watched as he struggled to get back into the saddle, but he did it.

“Okay,” Clint said, “just follow me.”

THIRTY

Donovan and McCall sat in a corner at a table that was covered with
enchiladas
,
frijoles refritos
, and
tortillas
.

“Hey,” Donovan called to the waitress,
“mas cervezas!”

“Sí, señor.”

“That's a good-lookin'
señorita
,” Donovan said. “Why don't you try your luck?”

“No, thanks,” McCall said. “She's all yours.”

“I just might,” Donovan said, cutting into an
enchilada
.

“You're supposed to pick those up and eat 'em,” McCall said.

“What am I, an animal?” Donovan asked.

McCall shook his head, picked up an
enchilada
, and bit into it.

The waitress came over with two more beers and set them down. Donovan slapped her on the ass.

“Yeah,” he said as she walked away, “if we wuz stayin' here overnight, I'd give her a ride she wouldn't forget.”

McCall nodded, bit into his
enchilada
again.

*   *   *

Across the room, Henry Carter was sitting with Long and two other men. The rest were at the bar. Rodrigo was standing at one end of the bar alone.

“What do you know about this Mex?” Long asked Carter.

“Nothin',” Carter said, “I never heard of 'im.”

“Is he gonna be ridin' with us?”

“Looks like it.”

“So that's another gun on Donovan's side.”

“I guess so.”

“Unless we can get him to switch.”

“None of us know him,” Carter said. “Donovan does. Why would he switch sides?”

“Money?” Long asked. “Lots of people switch sides for money, don't they?”

Carter frowned. Was Long digging at him?

“We'll see,” he said. He got up, took his beer, and walked over to where Donovan and McCall were sitting. He sat with them.

“What's with this Mex?” he asked.

“You want somethin' to eat, Henry?” Donovan asked.

“No, I ate,” Carter said. “Who's this Mex and why is he gonna ride with us?”

“He's a friend of mine,” Donovan said, “and he's ridin' with us because I say so. You got a problem with that?”

“No, no, Andy,” Carter said, “I don't have a problem. Some of the boys was just wonderin' if he was in for a full share.”

“He's in for a share of any job we pull while he's with us.”

“Are we pullin' a job in Mexico?”

“I'll let you know,” Donovan said. “If the men are finished eatin' and drinkin', get them ready to ride. We'll head out as soon as I finish my meal.”

“Yeah, okay.”

Carter got up and walked over to the men.

“You push him and he'll join them when they turn on you,” McCall said.

“He's already joined them,” Donovan said. “When the time comes, we're gonna have to kill him, too.”

“And what about Rodrigo?”

“He'll fight with us.”

“You sure?”

“I am.”

McCall washed down his food with a swig of beer.

“So I'm supposed to ride into Casa Madera and take a look at their bank?”

“Take a look at everythin',” Donovan said. “Like you always do. You can head out now, and we'll follow.”

McCall regarded Donovan over his half-finished beer.

“You're finished with your meal, right?”

“Yes,” McCall said, putting his beer down, “I'm done.”

Donovan leaned forward as McCall stood up.

“Remember, Jimmy,” Donovan said, “this is your last one. After this you can go home to your kids.”

“Yeah,” Jimmy McCall said, “if I live that long.”

*   *   *

The first town Clint and Willis came to was Alvarado. The tracks of the gang showed that they'd skirted the town, but Clint decided to stop. Willis needed some time out of the saddle.

“We'll stay here the night,” Clint said. “Get something to eat, some sleep, let the horses rest.”

“You mean let me rest,” Willis said. “I'm holding you back.”

“Nonsense,” Clint said. “There's no need to push the horses. By the tracks I can see we're only a couple of days behind them.”

“So if we push—”

“If we push it, you and your horse won't make it,” Clint said. “And you have to make it, Lou. You represent the town.”

They reined in their horses in front of a cantina and went inside.

THIRTY-ONE

They ate and drank well in the cantina, but discovered there was no hotel in the town. But they were able to bed down in the stable with their horses, as there were no other strangers in town.

They each made themselves a bed of hay in an empty stall.

“Comfortable?” Clint asked.

“More so than I was on the hard ground these past nights,” Willis said.

“Well, don't get used to it,” Clint said, reclining in his stall. “It'll be back to the hard ground tomorrow night.”

“Hopefully I'll get a good night's sleep tonight, then.”

“We both will,” Clint said. “Tomorrow we'll be refreshed.”

Willis ached from head to foot, and doubted he'd be refreshed by morning. But maybe he wouldn't hurt so much by then. Fording the river had taken more out of him than even he thought.

*   *   *

In moments Clint heard Willis snoring. He hoped the night's sleep would help the man stand up to the rest of the trip. It was true he could have moved faster without him, and he didn't know how much help Willis would be in a gun battle, but he'd started to like the man. Leaving him behind, alone, didn't appeal to him. Though he could have left him right here in town and picked him up on the way back.

Maybe he'd make that very offer to the man in the morning.

Within moments, he was asleep as well.

*   *   *

In the morning they returned to the cantina for breakfast, and Clint made his offer.

“Why don't you stay here,” he said.

“And do what?” Willis asked.

“Just wait,” Clint said. “I'll pick you up on the way back.”

“So then I can tell the mayor I went with you and helped you get the money back?” Willis asked. “That'd be a lie. I can't do that, Clint.”

“I wouldn't think any less of you.”

“I would think less of myself,” Willis said. “No, I have to go with you.”

“Suit yourself.”

“If you tried to leave me behind,” Willis told him, “I'd follow you.”

“All right,” Clint said. “We won't discuss it anymore.”

“Fine.”

*   *   *

They finished their breakfast and went to the stable to saddle their horses.

As they rode out of town, Willis realized he did feel somewhat better. His butt was getting used to the saddle, and his muscles didn't ache so much.

“So what are we going to do when we catch up to them?” he asked.

“I don't know yet,” Clint said. “It'll depend on where we catch up to them, and how many of them there really are.”

“So, in other words,” Willis said, “we don't have a plan.”

“No, Clint said, “we don't.”

“And you've done this before?”

“Done what before exactly?”

“Hunted men with no plan as to how to capture them,” Willis explained.

“Once or twice.”

“And has it turned out all right for you?”

“Once or twice.”

“Well, then,” Willis said, “I can earn my keep on this ride.”

“How?”

“I'm a lawyer,” he said. “Making a plan is what I do.”

“I see,” Clint said, “so you'll come up with a plan to capture them?”

“Or kill them,” Willis said. “I will.”

Clint leaned over and clapped his hand on Willis's shoulder.

“If you do that,” he said, “then you will have earned your keep.”

“Then while we ride,” Willis said, “I'll give it some thought. And by the time we catch up to them, I'll have a plan.”

“I'll count on it,” Clint said.

THIRTY-TWO

Jimmy McCall rode into Casa Madera, the new town the Donovan gang was going to hit, and saw that Donovan had been right. Just riding down the street, he saw several other gringos walking about. For this reason he did not attract that much attention as he rode in.

He saw that the town had two hotels, and a rather large jail. In addition, more than one cantina and several cafés. Finally, he saw the town's bank, an impressive adobe structure with bars on the windows. It looked more like a jail than the actual jailhouse did.

He stopped at the livery stable, arranged for his horse to be taken care of, then carried his rifle and saddlebags to the closest hotel.

The clerk handed him a key with a smile and said, “Enjoy your stay with us,
señor
.”

“Thanks,” McCall said. “I will.”

He went to his room, tossed his saddlebags onto the bed, and leaned his rifle in the corner. Then he walked to the window and looked down at the town's main street. This was a growing community, and would be a good haul for the Donovan gang.

But McCall was still upset about the last job they'd pulled, because people had been killed that day. When they'd hit the Windspring bank, McCall didn't see any reason for the killing. Booth had simply gunned down a teller for no reason, and Long reacted by shooting the bank manager. People who had their hands in the air and were not resisting at all.

When they got outside the bank, naturally the sheriff and deputy were there to greet them, so they had to be killed as well.

Now, more than ever, McCall wanted out. He wanted his money, and he wanted to go back to his kids. But he knew if he tried to leave now, Donovan would kill him. He could have ridden out now, and Donovan would come and find him and kill him. And if his kids were with him, Donovan would kill them, too.

So he had to do this last job, and get his money. If the gang members turned on each other, he'd have to try to come out in one piece and get away.

But that was for later. Right now he needed to go out, familiarize himself with the town, and with the bank, so he'd have all the information Donovan needed when he got there.

*   *   *

“What about help?” Willis asked Clint. “You know a lot of men who are good with guns. I mean, I assume that you do.”

“I do,” Clint said, “but it would take too long for them to get here.”

“What about getting some men here?” Willis asked. “And deputizing them?”

“We're in Mexico, Lou,” Clint said. “We don't have any authority here to deputize.”

“Well, hell,” Willis said, “how the hell can the two of us surround a whole gang?”

“I don't know,” Clint said. “I thought it was your job to come up with a plan.”

“Yeah, but—okay, I'll keep thinking about it,” Willis said. “I guess I need to approach it more like a legal problem.”

Clint didn't know how the lawyer intended to do that, but at least it would keep him busy.

They continued to ride, to follow the tracks left by the gang, who continued to skirt around towns and villages until they came to a small one called San Angel. Here, it looked as if the entire gang had simply ridden right into town.

“Let's see what they were up to here,” Clint said as they rode in.

*   *   *

It only took minutes for Clint to discover there was no law in San Angel, and that it was more of a village than a town.

“With no law this would have been a perfect stop for them,” he said.

The streets were empty as Clint and Willis walked their horses over to the cantina.

“Aren't too many places they could have gone here,” Clint said. “I'll check in the cantina, you go over to that hotel.”

“Okay. What do I do if I find them?”

“You won't find them,” Clint assured him. “They've been here and they're gone. Just find out what you can about what they did while they were here, and where they might have gone.”

“Okay.”

Lou Willis left his horse and walked over to the hotel.

Clint went into the little cantina and walked up to the bar. There were a few men in the place, and one black-haired Mexican woman working the floor. Instead of the bartender approaching, the woman came over. She had seen better days, but they were far in her past. Up close he could see the lines of age on her face, and the sag to her body.

“I am Rosalita. Somethin' I can get for you,
señor
?” she asked, her hands on her hips. “Or do for you? Perhaps you are lonely?”

“I'm not lonely, thanks,” Clint said. “I'd just like a
cerveza
.”

“Miguel!” she yelled. “
Cerveza
for the gringo!”

The bartender, a big guy in his thirties who scowled at Clint, came over with a beer and set it down.

“Anythin' else,
señor
?” she asked.

“I have a question or two.”

“About what?”

“About a group of men who rode in here about two days ago,” he said. “All gringos.”

“Sí,”
she said, “I remember them. One of them interrupted me and Rodrigo when we were, ah, how you say, doin' business?”

“He did, huh?” Clint asked. “Was he the leader? A big man?”

“Sí.”

“And this Rodrigo. Were they friends?”

“
Sí, señor
. When the gringos left, Rodrigo rode with them.”

“Any idea where they were going?” Clint asked.

She shrugged.

“Rodrigo did not tell me.”

“Were all the gringos in here?”

“Sí, señor.”

“Did they stay awhile?”

“No, they did not.”

“So you did not have time to, uh, do business with any of them?”

“No, señor,”
she said. “They ate, they drank, and they rode out.”

“Interesting.”

Rosalita put her hand on his arm and said, “If you want to do business while you are here,
señor
, you let me know.”

“I will,” Clint said, wondering if she was the only whore in the village. “Don't worry, I'll let you know.”

She rubbed her hand up and down his arm, then moved away.