Sabrina's Man (21 page)

The sun was high in the sky when Silas Longstreet, who was sitting in a chair tilted back against the outer wall of the courthouse, came to his feet and said, “Well, by gum, I ain't seen a sight like that. That woman's had some trouble.” He knew a bit about Sabrina's story, for he was the oldest of Judge Parker's marshals. Parker had told him about the woman and expressed his concern. Now he looked and saw the two, and getting out of his chair, he pulled his hat off. “Howdy, ma'am. My name's Silas Longstreet. Looks like you had some trouble.”

Gray Wolf laughed softly. “She's a foolish squaw. She hired the Denver brothers to help her, and they took all she had and left her in the desert.”

Silas, who was a small man with a shock of white hair and pale blue eyes, said, “Ma'am, you had some luck there. They could have done a lot more than let you go. Let me take you to the hotel. You can get some rest.”

“I can find my way.” She turned and said, “Gray Wolf, you saved my life. I have no money here, but I'll get some from the bank. Later on today I'll see that you're well paid.”

“Good.” Gray Wolf watched the woman go and seemed amused. “She's a proud woman but not so much anymore.”

“You'd better keep an eye on her, Gray Wolf. She ain't got much judgment. She's a city woman obviously. She could get mixed up with somebody worse than the Denver boys.”

“Yes. Give me money. I want something to eat. All I've had is a stringy jackrabbit.”

Silas stood before Judge Parker, who was seated at his desk, and was just finished telling him the story of Sabrina. “So, sure enough, she got cleaned up and she gave Gray Wolf fifty dollars. More money than he's ever had in his life, I reckon.”

“He's probably drunk by now.”

“No, he ain't drunk. He went to the mission school. He's a Christian Indian. Don't act like it sometimes, but he is.”

“Well, she could have been raped and killed out there. I'm glad Gray Wolf found her. I don't know what she's going to do.”

“What did she come here for?” Silas listened as the judge repeated the story of how she had come to get her sister free from the clutches of Trey LeBeau and his band.

Silas shook his head then whistled softly. “Well, that's a bad one.”

“I told her I didn't have no marshals to send. You're the only one here.”

“We don't need to send one man out to get LeBeau. He's got at least a half dozen killers.”

“That's right, but I've got an idea. She's not going to quit on this thing, Silas. She's going to hire somebody, but I think her only hope is one she'd never meet if we didn't help her.”

“Who's that, Judge?”

“Waco Smith.”

Silas was surprised and showed it. “Why, Judge, he's in the penitentiary at Yuma.”

“I know it, but I've got a plan. I'm a good friend of Warden Crawford, the warden of Yuma Penitentiary. He wrote me a letter and told me how there was a breakout and he could have been killed. There was a man ready to do the job when Waco jumped in front of him and killed the man with a gun he'd taken from one of the guards. He got shot a couple of times, but he made it. Warden Crawford is right grateful to him.”

“Well, I don't see how he can help her if he's in prison.”

“He's the only one I know who would even have a chance against LeBeau. Let me have a talk with that young woman. Have her come by my office.”

“I'll do that, Judge.”

“I think I may have found a possible man for you to hire.”

“Just one man?”

“That's all we've got right now, but this one can help if anybody can. His name is Waco Smith.”

“Well, I'd like to talk to him. I'll hire him if you say he's a good man. Where is he?”

Parker smiled slightly. “You won't like this. He's a prisoner in Yuma.”

“He's a criminal?”

“I guess he was when he went in, but sometimes prison changes a man. He's the only man I know who's tough enough to go with you into the Territory. We can maybe find some more, but you'll need one man like this.”

“I can't hire a criminal.”

“You don't know the Territory, miss,” Silas Longstreet said. He had brought her in and now leaned against the wall. “Waco knows it like the back of his hand. He's a hard man.”

“I can't hire a criminal! He's a dangerous man, I'd think.”

“Yes, he is, but he may have changed since he's been in prison. Prison either makes a man better or worse or kills him. From what Warden Crawford says, I think we might work something out.”

“How could he help me if he's in prison?”

“Well, he saved the warden's life. I think I could let him out on a conditional pardon, and the warden would agree to it. Then you can talk to him and see if you want to take him on.”

Sabrina nodded slowly. She was not happy about the decision to hire a criminal, but yet the opportunity was the only one that seemed to be opening its way up.

“All right. I'll talk to him, but I can't imagine going into the Territory running around with a criminal.”

“You need to get rid of that idea,” Silas said. “You don't need to be going into the Territory with Waco or anybody else.”

“I'm going,” Sabrina said flatly and put her eyes on Silas. “There's no argument about that. It's settled.”

“You are a stubborn young lady, but the Territory changes folk.”

“Well, I'll talk to the man.”

“We'll have to go to the prison.”

“How long will that take?”

“Just a day's ride from here. It ain't far.”

“All right. When do we leave?”

“We'll leave first thing in the morning. We may have to stay overnight.”

“Silas, you go along with Miss Warren and see she's all right.”

“As you say, Judge.” Silas nodded. “We'll be ready first thing in the morning. You want me to rent a buggy?”

“That might be best, or a wagon in case we bring him back with us. But I don't think that's likely.”

The sun beat down on the men who were working clearing rocks and breaking them into smaller chunks where necessary. Waco swung the sledge, struck a rock, broke it in two, picked it up, and threw it to one side. He was covered with dust, as were all the men out working on the road, and as always, he was hungry and thirsty. He drew his forearm across his face. He was working without a shirt and had sunburned at first, but now he was burned a bronze color almost like an Indian. He did wear a cap with a bill that shaded his eyes, and now he looked over and said, “Cecil, you okay?”

“Doin' fine, Waco.”

The young man, Waco saw, was about past going. He was frail, and the road work was more than he could handle. Fortunately the guard, a man named Roberts, was one of the gentler ones at the prison.

Waco had said, “Mr. Roberts, I'll do some more work if I need to, but Cecil there. . .he's just not fit for this.”

“Yeah, I'll try to get him a job in the office somewhere out of this heat. You're right. He ain't fit to be breakin' rock.”

Waco had thanked him, but he still kept a close watch on Cecil.

The two worked until noon, and then the whistle blew and the water wagon came with the noon meal, which was bread and slices of ham that made them thirstier, but the water was worth it all.

“I sure hope there ain't no roads to do in heaven.” Cecil sighed. He had eaten the bread but had only nibbled at the ham, knowing that it would give him a raging thirst.

“I expect they got angels doing that.” Waco grinned. He had resented Cecil's preaching at first, but now it merely amused him. “The Lord wouldn't let a good man like you break rock in heaven. Besides, I heard the streets were made of gold. Like to have a shot at that.”

“That's right, and the gates are all pearl, bigger than you'd think. Imagine a pearl big enough to make a gate out of.”

“Sounds sumptuous.”

“Oh, it is, Waco. Heaven's a good place. I'm going to see you there one day.”

Waco smiled. “I doubt that. God wouldn't want a maverick like me dirtyin' up His heaven.”

“He's gonna do things for you. He's gonna make you all clean and pure and clothed in the righteousness of Christ as the Bible says.”

“Well, I've always heard God could do anything, so I reckon if He wants to do it, He could do that for me.”

The two went on until the whistle blew again. Waco got to his feet, pulled Cecil up, and said, “Don't try to break any rocks. Just go through the motions. I talked to Mr. Roberts. It's okay with him.”

“Why, that wouldn't be right.”

“He's gonna try to get you a job inside. I'm kind of a favorite of Warden Crawford now. If Mr. Roberts can't do the job, I'm gonna ask the warden to do it.”

“Well, he owes you a favor. You saved his life.”

“Yeah, he hasn't said anything about it except thank you when I was first comin' out of it. Men forget, I guess.”

“Maybe not. It just takes time.”

Ten minutes later Roberts came out and said, “Waco, come on with me. You've got to go see the warden.”

“Well, what have I done wrong this time?”

“Nothing, I don't think. It might be somethin' good.”

“You think that, do you, Mr. Roberts? I've about given up expectin' on something good.”

“You've had it tough, Waco, but Cecil's givin' you the right advice. I ain't much of a Christian myself, but he is. I've seen the real thing enough to know that it can happen.”

“Well, you sure been a gentleman and a Christian to help Cecil out. I appreciate it.”

“Nothin' to it. Come along now.”

Sabrina was sitting in a chair in Warden Crawford's office. She turned when the door opened.

“Here he is,” the man in the blue uniform said. “Call me if you want me, Warden.”

“I'll do that, Roberts. Thank you.”

The door closed, and Sabrina fixed her eyes on the man who stood there. He had on a shirt and wore a pair of worn jeans. He had black hair and eyes almost as dark as those of Gray Wolf, her Indian rescuer. His face was broad at the forehead and tempered down to a determined jaw, and a slight scar on his right cheek went down to his neck. He was burned by the sun and had wide shoulders and a narrow waist. His eyes went to the warden then came over to take her in. He said nothing but simply stood waiting.