Rosa's Land: Western Justice - book 1 (27 page)

“I don’t think so.”

“What do you want to do?”

Riordan suddenly grinned. “You’ll laugh at this. I had ideas of becoming a painter before I got in this line of work.”

“Can I see some of your work?”

“Don’t really have any paintings here. They’re all back East.

I’ve got some drawings.”

“I’d like to see them.”

“Okay. I’ll go get them.” He retrieved his tablet and placed it before her.

She opened the cover and stared at the first one. “Why, that’s Ringo!”

“I don’t do figures as well as I’d like.”

She began to turn slowly through the pages, commenting and exclaiming about his work.

She got to one of Rosa and said, “She’s so beautiful.”

“Yes, she is. Would you like for me to do a sketch of you?”

“No, I’m all puffy and ugly.”

He laughed. “No, I can take all that out.”

He took the tablet and leaned back, putting it on the table. Taking a pencil, he began to sketch.

He was so engrossed in his work he was startled when Rosa came to the open door. She watched the two for a while. A look of displeasure came over her face. She turned and left without a word.

A
week had gone by since Riordan had done the sketch of Hannah, and she was getting better every day. She could get up now, dress herself, and move around very well. She loved the sketch Riordan had made and kept it pinned to her wall.

As for Riordan, he took the bounty money that had been on Alvin Darrow and Powell and gave it to Hannah saying, “Use this for your school.”

“Why, thank you, Riordan. We always need supplies for the students.”

“I just wanted to tell you that I’ll take you to the school when you get able.”

“I think I’d better be a little bit stronger.”

“Probably best. Where will you stay when you get there?”

“I—I really don’t know. I think the mission board expected a couple coming out, and of course I thought William would make all the arrangements.”

It was evening, and the two were standing on the front porch. Riordan often did this, sat outdoors at night, looking up at the sky and admiring the beauty displayed among the stars.

Hannah asked, “You like to watch the stars?”

“Yes, I do.”

“I wish I knew the names of them like sailors do.”

“I know some of them.” He began to name the stars.

Finally she exclaimed, “You know so much! You went to college, didn’t you?”

“I don’t know as I learned all that much that was helpful.”

The two were standing close together. She moved and said, “I’ll be glad when my ribs get well.” She inadvertently leaned against him.

He felt the soft pressure of her body. He smelled the rose scent that was in her hair, and by the light of the huge full moon, he could see her face. She had a tender expression, and Riordan did something he had not thought he was capable of. Without another word, he put his arms around her, held her gently, leaned over, and kissed her. He felt her surprise, and for a moment she resisted. Then she seemed to melt against him, and her lips moved under his.

When he lifted his head, she said, “I’m so ashamed.”

“No, I don’t want you to feel that way. It was all my doing.”

“I don’t know. I feel different toward you than I’ve ever felt.”

“The doctor said that would happen. That you’d be dependent on me and Rosa because we helped you when you needed someone.”

“I don’t think that’s it, but I’m ashamed that I would kiss a man so easily.” She turned and left.

Suddenly Rosa’s voice came in the darkness. “You comforting the patient, Riordan?”

Quickly Riordan turned and saw that she had been sitting in one of the cane-bottom rocking chairs usually occupied by her father. He hadn’t dreamed she was on the porch. He was embarrassed and could not think of a thing to say. Finally he said, “Rosa, I feel sorry for her. She’s helpless. She’s lost the man she was going to marry, and she’s afraid.”

“And that’s all there was to it?”

“Yes.”

Rosa rose and came to him.

He was taken off guard when she reached up, put her arms around his neck, and pulled his head down. He felt the softness of her form and was suddenly aware that old hungers had been stirred.

Her lips were soft, and she pulled him closer, and then suddenly she stepped back. “You see? You were after her, and now you’re after me. If a cheap saloon girl walked by, you’d be after her, too.” She turned and walked quickly away.

Riordan wanted to talk to her, and he called her name.

She turned around and came back. “What is it?”

“I loved a woman once, but she didn’t want me. She was the only sweetheart I ever had. I’m not a woman chaser, Rosa. I may have made a mistake with Hannah. It won’t be the last mistake I make.”

Suddenly Rosa felt sorry that she had tormented him. “I apologize. I’m the one that was out of order. Just forget what happened.”

But all Riordan thought about was how he was supposed to forget about holding Rosa in his arms.

Gray Hawk rode in the next day and ate as if he were ravenous.

He listened to Rosa as she explained what had happened with the outlaws and how they had killed a man and that a federal marshal was now on the spot. She told him about Riordan.

“I’ve heard about Riordan. He’s the one that gunned Dent Smith and Alvin Darrow down.”

“Yes, he did.”

“Must be some gunman.”

Rosa took Gray Hawk to see her father and her grandfather.

After catching up on the news, the conversation turned once again to the outlaws. Rosa said, “I want George Pye brought to justice for killing Blinky.”

“That was Powell who shot Blinky,” her father interjected.

“Pye was shooting, too. He’s just as guilty,” she countered.

Gray Hawk’s eyes suddenly gleamed. “I know where he is.”

“Where?” Rosa demanded.

“He’s holed up in Spivey Town. It’s a rotten little hole full of bad Indians and outlaws. No decency in it.”

Later on, Gray Hawk hunted Riordan down and wanted to know about the killing of Darrow. Finally he told the marshal what he had told Rosa. “Pye’s and Beecher’s gang are in Spivey Town, but you’d better stay away from there. Wait until you get a whole band of marshals. It’s got more bad men and killers than a dog has fleas.”

“Well, maybe the judge will send out a troop to clean out that rat’s nest.”

“It’d take a troop,” Gray Hawk grunted.

“I’ll send word to him. We’ll see what can be done.”

“You’d better tell him to get some good ones. The Fox is out there with his band. It’s like a small army, Riordan.”

Rosa walked up then. “I heard what you two were talking about. Riordan, you go back to the city where you belong. You’re educated, and you’ve got a good family with money. You can’t win out here.”

“You’re probably right,” Riordan said. He said no more but turned and walked away.

The next morning Gray Hawk saw Rosa at breakfast. “Riordan rode out early this morning.”

Rosa stared at him. “Where was he going?”

“Probably to Fort Smith to see the judge about getting the marshals,” Mateo said.

“No, he didn’t head toward Fort Smith. He rode due east headed toward the hill country.”

They were silent, and it was Gray Hawk who said what they were all thinking. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he was going to Spivey Town to root out that fellow who shot your hired hand.”

“He wouldn’t be foolish enough to do that!” Rosa exclaimed.

“Men do foolish things. He didn’t ask me to go with him. We could have gotten a bunch up here, I think, but it looks like he’s determined to go it alone.”

Rosa groaned, and a couple of tears escaped her eyes. “I was the one that got him here to hunt up Pye and his murderers. I wish I had never done anything now.”

Riordan spoke to Red, as he often did, “I’m just being a fool, Red. A horse wouldn’t do a fool thing like this.” He had formed a habit of talking to the big horse when he was alone. “I know I ought to get to Fort Smith and beg the judge to send at least two or three marshals, but I guess I just really haven’t proved I’m as tough as I need to be. Maybe I can catch Pye out alone, just me and him. It’ll be easy.”

He had heard the directions and seen a map that pointed out Spivey Town. He arrived there late in the afternoon and saw that it wasn’t much of a town. A few unpainted shacks and a line of businesses all built of warping boards—a general store, a livery stable, a feed store, and too many saloons for any place to remain decent.

He came to the edge of town, rode in, stopped in front of the livery stable, and dismounted. He tried to think of some way to find Pye, draw him out, and then get him alone. He was certain that if he tried to take Pye with his gang around, there would be a battle he could not survive.

Finally the sun went down, and still he could not come upon a plan. He took a deep breath and said, “I’ve got to do something.” He started down the street, staggering, pretending to be drunk.

He stumbled into a half-breed who said, “Watch where you’re going!” with a curse.

“I’ve got to find George Pye,” Riordan mumbled. “Got some money for him.”

The man’s eyes narrowed. “Money? He’s with his woman. Give me twenty dollars, and I’ll show you her place.”

“Sure.” Riordan fumbled the money out and gave the man the cash.

“Come on,” the man said.

Riordan followed him down a street. They stopped in front of a saloon with a sign saying
The Belle Irene.

The man pointed up to the second-floor window. “That’s Sally’s place. If George ain’t gambled all his money away, and if he’s drunk, he’ll be in her room. He ain’t, he’ll be in that saloon.”

Riordan mumbled his thanks, and the man left.

Slowly Riordan tied Red to the hitching post. The street was almost empty now. Just a few people walking along and going into different stores.
Maybe I’ll get lucky and he’ll be there alone or with the woman
.

He entered the door that led to the upstairs section. When he got to the top, he saw there was a short hallway. Each wall had a door. He looked at one, and it was empty. Going to the other door, he lifted his ear and heard a woman talking and a man grunting some answers.
That’s got to be him
.

He quietly opened the door, which was unlocked, and saw a woman wearing a dirty robe standing. She whirled to face him, and he drew his gun and mouthed the words
Shut up
! She turned pale and backed over against the wall. He looked at the bed and recognized Pye. He had heard the description and saw the ragged scar going down the left side of his face and down his neck. Pye was mumbling something, but his eyes were closed.

Going over to stand beside him, Riordan reached down, grabbed him by the collar, and pulled him upright. He put the muzzle of his gun to Pye’s head and said, “You’re under arrest, Pye. You’re coming with me.”

Pye woke up and started to holler, “Hey, there—”

But Riordan slapped him with the barrel of his gun and pointed it at his head. “You’re going, dead or alive! Just one more bit of noise and it’ll be dead. And I’m not particular. Now, get out of that bed.”

Pye scrambled out of the bed. He was obviously drunk.

“Put on your boots.” Riordan watched him put on his boots, and at the same time he took Pye’s gun and shoved it into his belt. “We’re going now. You make a sound, and I’ll kill you.”

Pye was rapidly sobering up. He saw the gun in Riordan’s hand. He had heard of how Riordan had put a bullet exactly in the middle of Alvin Darrow’s eyes. He swallowed hard and nodded.

They went down the stairs, but by the time they got to the horses, the woman had stuck her head out and was screaming, “There’s a marshal here!”

Riordan said, “Pye, get on that horse.” He waited until Pye mounted, and then he got on his own horse. But even as he did, the bat-wing door of the saloon flew open and five men came out. They lined up before Riordan, and one of them said, “I’m Henry Beecher. Turn that man loose, or we’ll make a dead man out of you.”

“I’m Riordan, Beecher. I’m taking him in.”