The Outlaws (17 page)

“I’ve no intention of dancing or of doing anything else for a damn drunken crowd,” Chapman retorted. “Am I speaking to Mr. Dolan?” he added.

Evans answered. “No, but you’re talking to a damn good friends of his.”

“I take it then that Mr. Dolan prefers to hide behind the guns of his good friends.” Chapman spoke tartly, seemingly not in the least afraid.

He sure got guts, Ezra thought, his gaze shifting from Chapman to Evans who still held Billy’s arms pinned. There was no way he could get a clear shot at Evans.

“I don’t hide behind anyone!” Dolan cried. He sounded as drunk as Campbell. “I resent that remark, sir!”

“You ain’t dancing, yet,” Campbell told Chapman. “I mean to see you dance.” he prodded him with the muzzle of his gun.

“You can’t scare me, boys,” Chapman said. “You’ve tried it before and it’s no use. Get out of my way, I’m going on.” He brushed aside Campbell’s pistol.

Two Colts roared. Ezra couldn’t be certain whether Dolan or Campbell fired first.

“My God, I’m killed!” Chapman cried, staggering back and falling onto his side.

Ezra saw Billy break away from Evans, giving him a dear shot at Evans now, but he hesitated, finger on the trigger. O’Folliard and Salazar joined Billy and the three of them darted up the lane toward Ezra. He lowered his pistol.

“It’s Ezra,” he said as they neared, careful not to move until he’d spoken.

The four of them hurried toward Patron’s house, one of the Regulator’s meeting places.

“Damn, there’s nothing like a shooting to sober you up,” O’Folliard said.

“We going to leave Chapman lying there?” Ezra asked.

“He’s as dead as they come. Nothing we can do for him,” Billy said.

Ezra knew Dolan’s men might make trouble if they went back, but it seemed wrong to leave the dead man in the street. Like they’d had to leave Brewer at the mill. For a moment dread raised the hair on his nape as the thought came to him—how many more of their men would die and be left behind?

“So the peace treaty didn’t work out?” he said finally.

“Oh, we made peace all right. Drank to being friends, which wasn’t such a good idea. It might still have gone okay if we hadn’t come on that one-armed lawyer. Poor bastard.” Billy touched the handle of his Colt. “Ain’t no peace anymore. One way or another, I’ll get Evans.”

In March, when Governor Wallace came to Lincoln, Billy had a secret meeting with him that only Ezra knew about. Billy didn’t tell him the details, but Ezra heard enough to know the warrants outstanding against Billy for the Brady and Roberts shootings would be withdrawn if Billy appeared before the grand jury in April with his account as an eyewitness, of the Chapman killing.

Billy and the governor plotted a fake arrest for Billy with the militia, under the captaincy of Billy’s friend, Juan Patron, acting as the arresting officers.

But something went wrong. Both Billy and O’Folliard were taken in by Patron, but then the sheriff’s deputy stepped in and threw them both into the miserable cellar jail in Lincoln. Instead of putting them under house arrest.

Wallace himself came to town to see to Billy’s release into the custody of Juan Patron.

Ezra joined the welcoming crowd of Regulators waiting for Billy at Patron’s store. “I been in that jail twice now and that’s enough, Billy said. It ain’t fit for a dog.” “They still have you handcuffed,” Ezra said.

Billy grinned, wiggled his right hand back and forth, and a moment later held up the hand, free of the cuff. He slid it back into the handcuff with equal ease.

“One reward for having big wrists and small hands,” he said

While Billy was waiting under house arrest at Patron’s, Ezra decided to seek out Violet Gabaldon, who’d been on his mind since the night they met. He rode out to the Gabaldon ranch across the river from town.

Her father, Vincente, at first refused to let Ezra see his daughter.

“I’ll bring my sister with me if that would help,” Ezra told him. “My sister is the school. She--”

“Ah, Senorita Nesbitt,” Vincente said “I know her. She lives now in Maria Zamora’s house, no?” “Yes, sir,”

Vincente eyed Ezra. “I hear you ride with el Chivato. With Billy the Kid.”

“He’s my friend, yes.”

“I have nothing against the young man. I admire his boldness, his courage. But, you understand, the life he leads, and you with him, is not suitable. Not at all suitable.”

“I understand, senor. But I only wish to speak to your daughter. Here, in your house, in the presence of my sister--what harm is there in that?”

Vincente half-smiled. “You do not believe such a request is the beginning of a courtship? I think it is. Still, I will permit one such visit, out of respect for your sister. Come tomorrow. It will be only the one time. No more.”

Ezra left the Gabaldon casa, where he’d had not had so much as a glimpse of Violet, and went straight to Tessa.

“Why, Ezra,” Tessa said, “I had no idea you were courting a girl.”

He flushed. “All I want to do is see her again, talk to her for a while. “It’s you and her father that mention courting, not me. I don’t aim to get married. A wife means a house and staying in one place. I don’t intend to be tied down, not ever.”

“I’ll go to Vincente Galbaldon’s house with you, if you wish,” Tessa said, “I think, though, if you’re not serious about Violet, you had better tell her so right away.”

“All this fuss over talking to a girl! What does Violet care whether I’m serious or not?

She’d probably rather Billy came to see her anyway.”

“Billy? What does he have to do with this girl?”

“Nothing. He thinks she’s pretty and she is, but he doesn’t know her any better than I do.”

By the next day, when Ezra and Tessa set off Gabaldon’s, she was full of information about the family.

“Violet’s mother died five years ago,” Tessa said. “She wasn’t Mexican. She came from Kansas. Maria hints there was something peculiar about her death. She was shot, supposedly by a young cowboy she surprised trying to steal a horse from their corral. Violet’s father killed the cowboy,’ “So?”

“Well from the way Maria tells the story, it’s plain there must have been talk about Violet’s mother and the cowboy before the killing. Vincente, I think, is suspected of killing the two of them when he found them together. Now there may not be a word of truth in this. He’s probably a perfectly innocent man. Since that time, though, he’s kept his daughter practically a prisoner in the house.”

Ezra said nothing. Poor Violet, without a mother to soften her father’s harshness. He and Jules had lost their mother, too, but there’d always been Tessa. He turned to his sister, leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. She stared at him, startled.

“You’ve been real good to me,” he said gruffly.

He wasn’t going to worry about whether or not Violet’s mother had been a cheat--what difference did it make to him? Violet was her own person. His heartbeat speeded as he recalled the way her soft lips and parted when she looked up at him. He could hardly wait to see her again.

When they arrived at the Gabaldon casa Vincente Gabaldon greeted Tessa with a smile and held onto her hand while he spoke to her. Ezra was a bit surprised Tessa didn’t draw away from him. Instead, she smiled, too, Of course, for an older man, Violet’s father was good-looking enough.

“I am so happy to have you in my house,” Vincente said to her. “It is my sorrow we haven’t met since last summer.”

She blushed, Tessa could look downright pretty sometimes.

“Thank you,” she murmured. “It’s my pleasure to be here.”

Ezra glanced from one to the other. She hadn’t said a word about meeting him before and she was gazing at him, fascinated, like a bird at a snake. Ezra cleared his throat.

“Hello Senor Gabaldon.” he said.

Vincente’s manner grew more formal as he greeted Ezra. He escorted them into the main room of the adobe ranch house and left them with a final smile for Tessa.

Almost immediately Violet, accompanied by a maid, came into the room. Ezra caught his breath.

Violet wore all white except for a pink ribbon threaded through the high neck of her gown, the pink exactly matching the color of her lips. The gown was modest but fitted so well he couldn’t miss the delicate curve of her breasts and the sweet flare of her small hips. She offered him her hand.

As he touched her fingers, a tingling fire traveled from his hand to shoot through him like fireworks on the Fourth of July.

“Violet,” he stammered. “I mean Senorita Gabaldon.” She took her hand from his and glanced at Tessa.

“Oh, I brought my sister. Tessa, this is--”

Tessa held out her own hand to clasp Tessa’s. “I’m so pleased to meet you, Senorita Gabaldon. Ezra wasn’t exaggerating, you’re a very pretty young woman.”

Violet’s cheeks turned pinker than the ribbon at her neck as she smiled at Tessa. “Thank you. I am honored that you came to call, Miss Nesbitt.”

Violet turned to the maid, giving orders in Spanish for little cakes to be brought with coffee and wine.

When everyone was seated, Violet leaned toward Ezra, “How is your friend Senor

Bonney?” she asked. “I heard he was arrested, It is a shame.”

“Billy’s all right. He’s having a fine time at Paton’s. Juan’s really his friend, you know.

“So I’ve heard. “I don’t understand this arrest.”

Ezra shrugged. “It won’t be for long.”

“I’m glad.”

Ezra gazed at her, entranced. Her soft brown eyes had tiny speckles of gold and her brown hair was pulled back from her heart shaped-faced. Face. But wayward wisps escaped to curl enticingly on her temples.

The maid returned with a tray of food and drink and Violet busied herself serving them. No one, Ezra thought, ever moved so gracefully. He could hardly believe he’d clasped that slender waist when he’d danced with her outside the cantina

“You must come to Maria Zamora’s house and visit me,” Tessa said to Violet.

Violet touched the tip of her tongue to her lower lip for a moment and Ezra felt a flash of desire so acute he had to look away, lest he embarrass himself.

“I would like to,” Violet said, “But I must ask Papa.”

Ezra heart thudded in his chest. If she came to Maria’s, he might find a chance to be alone with her.

He couldn’t wait that long. He took a deep breath. By God, he’d make a chance. Now, today. Somehow.

All too soon Tess rose and began her farewells. He wanted to protest--it seemed they’d only been in the Gabaldon casa a few minutes. But he held his tongue, knowing Tessa did what she thought proper.

“A lady or gentleman never outstays a welcome,” his father used to say.

Whatever he might be, Tessa was a lady, all right. And so was Violet.

Violet walked with them to the door. He held her hand for a moment, said goodbye, then stepped aside to let Tessa repeat her invitation to visit at Maria’s. Then, as Tessa started away, Ezra moved back quickly before Violet could close the door.

“Meet me tonight under the cottonwood east of your house,” he whispered almost in her ear, so close he could smell a delightful scent of roses.

Violet spoke so softly he hardly caught her words, “Tomorrow night.” Louder, she said, “Adios, Senor Nesbitt,” stepped back and closed the door.

He floated off the stoop and over the ground to join Tessa. I’ll see Violet tomorrow. Alone. Would it really happen? Would she come?

The next day crawled by with the speed of a land turtle. The sun shone warm. Everywhere Ezra looked the hills showed green with spring and the birds sang themselves hoarse, courting. Is that what he meant to do--court Violet?

The idea of marriage frightened him, but she wasn’t like the cantina women Billy sought out. He knew those women could be had, sometimes for a few pesos, sometimes because they took to a man. Billy wasn’t shy about bedding them, but Ezra’d never had the nerve.

He wanted Violet in that way. It excited him almost beyond tolerance to even think of kissing her, but he wanted to protect her, too. Now that he’d seen her again, he couldn’t imagine living the rest of life without her.

“Violet is a lovely girl,” Tessa told him, coming up to him as he stood by the Zamora corral willing the sun to hurry down the sky. “I can see why you’re so attracted to her.” She laid a hand on his arm. “Promise me you’ll never harm her in any way.” “Never!” he said fervently.

Tessa smiled and patted his arm.

“I reckon I’ll have to find work.” he said.

She nodded. “Senor Gabaldon will certainly insist any man who courts Violet has something to offer besides himself.”

At last the sun disappeared behind the western hills. Shadows deepened. Ezra ate Maria’s chili con carne, afterward telling her she was the best cook in the territory. He wrestled with Jules, letting his little brother pin him to the floor. Lying on his back, he plucked Jules off his chest, lifted him into the air and held him at arm’s length while Jules laughed as he tried to free himself.

“You’re in good spirits tonight,” Tessa commented. She couldn’t suspect, he told himself. He set his brother down and rose to his feet. Jules immediately tackled him and Ezra slung him over one shoulder. Then, as an excuse not to talk to Tessa, he carried Jules into the bedroom and tossed him on the bed.