Rosa's Land: Western Justice - book 1 (33 page)

Riordan had to hold back tears. He simply hugged his father and said, “I love you, Father.”

He then shook hands with his brothers and was amazed, as he thought he saw tears in their eyes.

He turned to his mother last. He looked straight into her eyes, communicating how much he loved and appreciated her. He kissed her on the cheek, stepped into the saddle, and then rode away at a fast pace.

R
iordan straightened up stiffly and resisted the impulse to turn around. He had been riding steadily, looking down at the ground for signs of Henry Beecher’s passing. When he had the eerie feeling that he was being watched, he tensed up, waiting for the gunshot, to feel the bullet crashing into his spine.

Suddenly a voice said, “You’ll never make it this way, White Eyes.”

Twisting around the saddle, Riordan saw Gray Hawk, the relative of the Ramirez family. He was riding a big lanky bay without a saddle but with a twisted rope for a bridle. Riordan had seen him only once, but he was not the kind of man that one forgot. His skin was bronze and drawn tightly around his face, making his high cheekbones more prominent. His eyes were obsidian, as black as night.

Riordan was surprised to see a little smile twist the corners of his mouth upward. “What are you doing here, Gray Hawk?”

“Tryin’ to keep you from getting killed.” Gray Hawk kicked his horse and rode up even with Riordan’s gelding. “You don’t think you can find Beecher by yourself, do you?”

“I’m going to try.”

“You’re going to get yourself killed, as I said. Now I’m going to help you.”

Riordan felt the tension leaving his muscles and said, “Well, I guess I can use all the help I can get. I’m no tracker.”

“I am. Best tracker in my tribe. I can help you find Henry, and we can get the woman. We could even kill Henry if you want.”

“I don’t really want to kill anybody.”

“That’s not what I hear about you. You’ve killed a couple of men.”

“Sometimes a man has to kill to save.”

Gray Hawk glanced down at the ground and said, “Pretty easy tracking to here, but this ground gets hard farther on past those draws. Takes a good eye to follow their trail. Besides, I think Beecher probably is going to do a lot of dodging around to throw you off for a while.”

“I don’t think so. I think he wants me to find him.”

“Maybe you’re right. He’s made it pretty clear that he’s going to kill you.”

“I guess he’ll have his chance.”

The two rode along silently, Gray Hawk glancing down at the ground from time to time. They did hit hard ground quickly, and more than once he had to get down, lead his horse, and lean over, scrutinizing the hard earth carefully. “They came this way.” He straightened up and looked off into the distance.

It was a hazy day, and Gray Hawk did not speak for such a long time that finally Riordan said, “Well, what are you thinking?”

“I’m thinkin’ I must be crazy helpin’ you commit suicide like this. If they get you, they’ll get me, too.”

“I’m hoping that God will keep us safe.”

Gray Hawk turned and stared at Riordan. “You’re a Jesus man then.”

“Yes, I am. I didn’t always act like it, but that’s what I am, a Jesus man.”

A broad smile came across Gray Hawk’s face. “Well, from what I hear it’s good to have God on your side. Did you notice the trail turned back there, about a quarter of a mile headed over toward those rocks?”

“No, I didn’t notice.”

“You better start noticin’ or you’re going to find yourself dead.”

“Do you think their hideout is that way?”

“No, not in a hundred years. He’s just moving around. As a matter of fact, he’s probably got somebody watching us right now. They could knock us right out of the saddle.”

“Well, it’ll be dark soon. If they don’t kill us before we get there, maybe we can do something.”

Gray Hawk shook his head. A sober look flitted across his bronze face. “I don’t believe in happy endings.”

“I do this time,” Riordan said grimly.

Rosa had cooked several meals, for it had been two days since they had arrived at the house. None of the men had offered to touch her, but that was because Henry had warned them against it. He hadn’t warned them, however, against making crude jokes at her expense. She had been exposed to rough male talk before, but nothing like this. Gritting her teeth, she determined to show no sign that she was afraid.

“These are good pancakes, Rosa,” Henry said. She had found supplies enough to make pancakes, and they had blackstrap molasses to pour over them. She had been working hard, for they ate like starved wolves. “You’d better sit down and eat some yourself.”

“I’m not hungry,” she said.

“Do what I tell you,” Henry said. “I don’t want a sick woman on my hands here.”

Rosa put the last pancake on a tin plate and picked up a fork and a knife. She sat down as far away as she could get from Henry, who grinned and said, “You won’t always be so standoffish.”

“Yes, I will.” She cut the pancake up and poured syrup over it, but it might as well have been sawdust. She was exhausted, as she had slept very little. When she wasn’t cooking or trying to clean up some, she felt alternately calm and uneasy as she thought of the sermon she had heard. She had the feeling that she was under some sort of magnifying glass and that God was looking at her to see what she would do.

Henry finished his pancakes, drained his coffee cup, and said, “Get me some more coffee, Sal.”

Maglie got up, moved to the stove, and brought the coffee back. It was thick and black, and Henry drank it without any sugar or cream. He was studying Rosa and said, “You know, Riordan is a tough fellow, but I’ve got the feeling that he’s smart as well.”

“What does that mean?” Rosa asked.

“Why, it means that he’ll never come for you. He’ll run to Judge Parker and get a big posse. That’s what any man would do with any sense. I get the feeling he’s sweet on you. Anything between you two?”

“No.” She felt this was the wrong answer, but she could give Henry nothing to build on. “All I want is out of here,” she said.

“Well, you heard my terms. Riordan comes and we knock him off, then I’ll see you get back to your family. You see, I’m not such a bad fellow.”

Wahoo Bonham, a short, barrel-shaped outlaw with a round face and a short beard, giggled. He had a strange high-pitched giggle that sounded ridiculous from such a muscular man. “Maybe you ought to marry her, Henry. She’s a better cook than anybody else and keeps the place clean.”

“That’s just like you, Wahoo,” Mordecai Bailey said. He was as tall and lanky as Wahoo was short and round. He had only one good eye, the other covered by a black patch. “You don’t have to marry her. But, maybe one of us could do the marrying if you do. I thought about becoming a preacher once. That ought to qualify me.”

“You, a preacher?” Hack Wilson said. “You’re about as far from a preacher as a man can get.”

“What about you?” Wahoo grinned. “You’d make a pretty good preacher, a nice-looking fellow like you. Got an education. You ought to quit this robbin’ and stealin’ and shootin’ and get you a job as a preacher in some town. They got an easy life.”

Hack shook his head. “Not for me. I don’t believe in God.”

“I do.” Everyone suddenly turned to look at Henry. He was staring at his men and said softly, “A man’s a fool not to believe in God.”

“Why, Henry, you never said nothin’ about having a religion!” Wahoo said in astonishment.

“No, I never said anything because I don’t have any, but you just go out sometime and look at the stars. No, there’s a star-maker somewhere, and I’m pretty sure it’s the one in the Bible. I’m not scared of dyin’, but I don’t like to think about when I have to meet God and give account.”

Sal Maglie said, “My grandpa was a preacher. He was a good man. He believed in God all the way through. I can’t forget about him.”

The talk went around the table.

Finally Rosa got up and began to collect the dishes. No one ever offered to help wash them, but she didn’t expect it.

Henry watched her and waited until the men started a card game and then went over to where she was standing by the dishpan washing the sticky plates. “Rosa, I don’t want to see you disappointed. I keep men watching, and as soon as they see that posse, I won’t kill you like I said I would. But you’ll be my woman. There’s plenty of places in this territory to hide. I’ll keep you until I get bored with you, and then I’ll pass you along to one of my men.”

“He’ll come for me.” Rosa was astonished at the assurance she felt as she said this.

She saw that Beecher was surprised as well. “You believe that in spite of everything?”

“I do. I’m not a Christian woman, but I believe in God, and I know Riordan’s family is praying for him … and for me.”

“Well,”—Henry yawned and stretched—“they’d better be good prayers.” He went over and joined the card game. When she finished the dishes, he got up and said, “Come on. Get on to your room.” He walked with her, and when he unlocked the door, she started to step in, but he grabbed her instead. His strength was frightening. He held her to his chest, his eyes inches away from hers. “You’re a good-looking woman. I never had much of a weakness for women, but I like you. If he don’t come tomorrow, you’ll be mine.”

“I’ll never be yours!” Rosa tore away and stepped inside the doorway.

He stared at her then laughed and pulled the door shut.

She heard the bar fall into place. Rosa paced the floor, and fear came like an armed man. She had never known fear like this, and she was thinking of what Henry had said about God.
He’s not afraid to die, but he’s afraid to face God and give account
. The words came floating back to her, and she slumped down on the side of the bed, put her face in her hands, and suddenly began to weep. She was not a weeping woman, but things had fallen apart, and now here in this darkness, with only the candlelight flickering, she knew that she had reached the end of her resources. She wanted to run and scream, but there was no place to run and no point in screaming. The beast that held her there would merely laugh at her.

Finally she grew quiet, but the words of the minister’s sermon came floating back to her again. She remembered a great deal of it, and the part that stuck in her mind was when Jesus spoke the words
‘Neither do I condemn thee.’
That was what caught her attention, that Jesus, the Son of God, didn’t condemn that woman who was obviously a sinner. She thought on that for a while, getting up from time to time and pacing the floor. She leaned against the wall, put her head back, and shut her eyes. “I can’t go on like this,” she whispered. “I’ve got to believe God.”

She walked over to the bed, knelt down, and began to pray. The words were hard to get out. She’d never had so much trouble, but she had no practice. She nearly gave up, but she kept thinking,
That other woman took a chance. She didn’t know Jesus would help her. She was desperate
. And then it came to her, and she realized that she was fully as desperate. Finally, weary, she whispered, “God, I don’t have any right to ask You for anything, but I’m reaching out to You, just like that sick woman. She needed physical healing, and I need the other kind. I sinned against You terribly. There is no reason why You should forgive me, but I’m asking You to do that. Do for me what You did for that woman.”

She grew quiet then and waited. From time to time she would try to pray again, but there was a stillness that had crept into her soul now. “Lord, I don’t know of anything else to do. That preacher, he wanted people to believe in Jesus and to follow Him and obey Him, and, Lord, that’s what I intend to do. No matter what happens tomorrow, I’m going to follow You.” She lay on the bed then and after a time grew utterly still. She could hear a night bird crying out and a coyote singing its plaintive song way out on the prairie, but all she could think of was herself and God.

Time ceased to exist, but there came a moment when she whispered, “Lord, I don’t deserve it, but I feel that You’ve done something in my heart. I’m still a prisoner, but I know somehow that I can ask You and You’ll help me and Riordan. Get us out of this terrible situation.” She fell asleep then, exhausted emotionally, and lay as still as if she were paralyzed.