[Texas Rangers 06] - Jericho's Road (3 page)

She looked startled. “How could he know? We haven’t told anybody.”

“
Guess he saw it for himself. He said you glow like the sunrise.” He studied her face. “I believe he was right.”

“
I have reason enough. I’m happy here. I couldn’t ask for things to be any better.”

Andy looked at the mantel. Always before, he had seen a picture of Josie there. It was gone now.

Alice turned to see where his gaze was directed. She said, “Lookin’ for Josie’s picture? Rusty took it down. He said he didn’t need a picture to remember, or to keep pushin’ the past into his face. Said yesterday’s gone. Today is all we’ve got.”

“
You think he really sees it that way?”

He saw a flicker of doubt in her eyes. “Sometimes when he holds me I can’t help feelin’ that he’s thinkin’ of Josie.” She blinked and turned away. “I’ve tried real hard to be a good wife to him. Lord knows he deserves it. I wouldn’t ask him to forget Josie, ever. But maybe with time I can be as much a part of him as she ever was. Even more.”

“
Maybe you already are.”

“
No, not yet, but I will be. I’m a Monahan, and you’ve never seen a Monahan give up.”

Andy heard a milk cow bawling. He walked to the door and saw that Rusty had ridden up to the log barn. He said, “I’ll see if he needs any help.”

“
Tell him supper will be ready by the time he gets through with the milkin’.”

Rusty pumped Andy’s hand as if they had not seen each other in years. It had been only a few months since Andy had ridden by here on his way to an assignment. They exchanged small talk about crops and rain and local politics. Andy squinted. “I see a little more gray in your hair.”

“
You’ve got the sun in your eyes.”

“
Alice looks fine.”

“
She does, doesn’t she?”

Andy pointed toward the milk cow. “You’ll be needin’ all the milk Old Boss can give. I understand you-all are expectin’.”

Rusty was surprised. “Alice told you?”

“
Shanty did. That old man sees things nobody else can.”

“
He ought to. He’s been around since the Colorado River was just a creek. What brings you over this way?”

Andy told him he was due for reassignment to a company on the Rio Grande. That brought concern to Rusty’s eyes. He repeated what Tom Blessing had said: “A man can get himself killed down there.”

“
A little risk never stopped
you.
”

“
It would now.” Rusty glanced toward his cabin. “I’ve got responsibilities.”

“
I don’t.”

“
You’ve got a responsibility to yourself. If you stay too long you’re liable to get all shot up and have to quit anyway. Then you may be too crippled to do much of anything else.”

“
I’m doin’ a job that needs to be done. When I stop feelin’ that way I’ll turn it back to them like you did.”

CHAPTER TWO

A
s cities went, Andy always found Austin agreeable provided he did not stay long. His first visit here had been with Rusty and Tom Blessing. He had spent his early years in Indian villages and later in the sparse farming community where Rusty lived. The size of this city had amazed him. It was the state capital, Texas’s seat of power. That fact had been driven home to him by a tempest that boiled up in 1873 upon the transfer of the governorship from the state’s reconstruction administration back to the Texans who had supported the Confederacy. Many former Rangers, cast adrift after the war, had participated in the forcible removal of a reluctant Unionist governor.

The place looked peaceable now after several years of stable and generally benevolent government. Andy rode up Congress Avenue toward the capitol building. The street was wide enough that several spans of mules or oxen could turn a wagon around without crunching its wheels against the wooden sidewalks. After seeing the town several times, Andy was still in awe of the wagon and carriage and horseback traffic and the busy-looking pedestrians along the street. It took a lot of people to govern the state, he thought. Or perhaps, as Tom had once suggested, it took one to do the work and two to watch him.

He paused in apprehension at the door of the Rangers’ state office, wondering what was in store for him. He straightened his back and stepped inside, trying to look confident. A clerk sitting at a rolltop desk turned and viewed him over the rims of reading glasses set low on his nose. His annoyance over the interruption was but thinly veiled. “Yes?”

“
I’m Private Andy Pickard. I was ordered to report here for reassignment.”

The clerk did not recognize the name. His face was pale, the mark of a man who spent his days in an office rather than out in the field. Andy wondered if he knew which end of a gun the bullet came out of. After riffling through some papers he withdrew one and studied it. “Oh yes, Pickard. Do you know Major Jones?”

“
Met him. He’s visited camps where I’ve been.” Major John Jones was well-known for spending a minimum of time in the office. He was usually on the trail in his buggy, inspecting the far-flung Ranger outposts that were his responsibility.

The clerk said, “Luckily you have chosen a day when the major is in. Unfortunately at this moment he has company. You may sit if you choose to wait.”

Andy seated himself in an uncomfortable straight-backed wooden chair that he supposed was meant to discourage long visits. He became aware of loud and angry voices beyond the door of the major’s office. He glanced at the clerk, asking a silent question. The clerk rolled his eyes. “The major is having a discussion with a representative of the treasurer’s office. The gentleman is explaining why the Rangers must do more but do it with less money and fewer men.”

Andy could not follow all that was being said, but he caught words like
stingy
and
waste
and
efficiency
. The latter seemed to receive special emphasis.

The door swung open. A man as pale-faced as the clerk strode out but turned to fling final words back at the major. “If it were up to me we would disband the Rangers. That would stop this needless drain on the state’s resources.”

Major Jones followed him, shaking his finger. “And I hope the next person to face a holdup man is yourself. I’d like to see how long it would take you to call for the Rangers.”

A gust of hot wind seemed to follow the treasury representative’s retreat.

Major Jones’s fists were clenched. He said, “There goes a man who can make me forget the biblical injunctions against profanity.”

As his anger subsided he became aware of Andy standing at attention. He said, “I remember your face, but your name is a puzzle to me.”

“
Private Andy Pickard, sir. I was ordered to report to you for reassignment.”

“
Oh yes.” The clerk handed Jones a couple of sheets of paper. Jones glanced at them, then beckoned Andy into his office. He was known for quick perception and attention to detail. He could drop in on a camp unannounced and in a few minutes have a firm grasp on the situation there. If he found shortcomings he saw to it that they were being corrected before he left for the next place to be inspected. He believed in Ranger regulations, but his own conduct was based on higher rules. If he visited a camp on a Sunday, he personally conducted religious services.

The major was a small man, but he had a firm handshake and a strong, steady gaze that seemed to see into the hidden part of a man’s mind. “Have a seat, Pickard.”

Some officers might offer a man a drink at this point, but not Major Jones. He said, “As you may know, the legislature has seen fit to cut our budget again. Some from the settled parts of the state say we don’t need Rangers now that the army has the Comanches and other hostiles safely tucked away on their reservations. I have argued to little avail that outlaws present as much of a challenge now as the Indians ever did. Would you not agree?”

Andy was inclined to defend the Indians, but he knew that was not what the major wanted to hear. “Yes, sir.”

“
I am keeping as many Rangers as I can, given the funds the state has allotted to me. Your record tells me you are one whose services I should retain. I am transferring you to a region that needs all the law enforcement it can get. Are you familiar with the Nueces Strip?”

“
I’ve heard of it. Never been there.”

The major turned to a map of Texas on the wall behind his desk and put his finger on the lower part. “It is that region between the Nueces River and the Rio Grande. Mexico still claims it in spite of the treaty Sam Houston won from Santa Anna. The scarcity of law has made it a gathering ground for robbers and cutthroats from both countries.”

“
I heard Captain McNelly whipped them a few years ago.”

“
Leander McNelly and his men put down much of the worst trouble, but fighting still goes on. Mostly it’s between the races—white against Mexican, Mexican against white.” He lowered his chin and stared hard at Andy. “How do you get along with Mexicans?”

Andy shrugged. “All right, I guess. Never knew very many. They haven’t settled much where I come from.” He had known a few Mexican boys among the Comanches. Like himself, they had been captured on raids and gradually assimilated into the tribe as potential hunters and warriors.

Jones said, “Mexicans dominate the Nueces Strip, at least in numbers. Some still consider themselves to be living in Mexico and not subject to American law. At the same time many Americans in that section do not recognize that Mexicans have legitimate rights, especially ownership of property. They drive them from their lands, or try to. They would like to see every Mexican banished to Mexico, or killed. It is not for us to choose sides. It is our responsibility to put down violence from whatever quarter it may arise.”

“
Sounds like that would take a lot of Rangers.”

“
Far more than we have, which sometimes drives us to actions we would not normally consider. Captain McNelly used extreme measures, but the situation called for them. He was up against desperate men.”

“
What do you mean, extreme measures?”

“
At the worst, summary executions. We would prefer to observe all the niceties of the law, but outlaws respect only force. McNelly knew how to get their attention. He stacked the bodies of a dozen dead bandits in the town square in Brownsville. Afterward he conducted a raid across the river into Mexico and shot every suspect he came across. No doubt he killed some who did not deserve it. They were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. This caused us no end of diplomatic trouble. It is easy to criticize him now from the comfort of an Austin office, but you have to give him credit. He put a damper on border jumping for a while.”

Andy was troubled by the thought of shooting suspects. “It’s been preached to me over and over that everybody has a right to be tried by a jury.”

“
No bandit summons a jury before he shoots someone. Mind you, I do not advocate summary justice. However, under extreme circumstances we may have little choice. Now, after what I have told you, do you think you can handle this assignment?”

Andy nodded. “I’ll do my duty as I see it, sir.”

“
Your commanding officer may sometimes see it differently than you do. If so, will you obey him?”

“
If I can’t, I’ll give him my resignation.”

Jones mulled that over. “Well enough, but surely you would not desert him in a crisis.”

“
I won’t quit in a fight, but I might resign afterward.”

Jones dipped a pen in an inkwell and began to write an order. “How soon can you start?”

“
Right now. I’m travelin’ light.”

“
It is a long way to ride alone. I have assigned another Ranger of your acquaintance to the same place. Find him and you can travel together.”

Andy thought of several he hoped it might be—Len Tanner or either of the Morris brothers.