A Coffin for Santa Rosa Page 4

  ‘Not accordin’ to the Mescaleros.’

  ‘What’s Apaches got to do with it?’

  ‘Some bucks were goin’ to skin me alive once till I cooked up a batch. Liked ’em so much they made me a blood brother instead.’

  ‘You are such a liar.’

  ‘Make up your mind. First sacrilegious, now liar. You’re a varyin’ woman, scout.’

  ‘And you talk too dang much,’ she said, exasperated. ‘I liked you a whole sight better when I first met you and you hardly ever spoke.’

  ‘Had a bullet hole in me then,’ he said without thinking.

  The memory of how she and her mother had rescued him from the desert, where he lay almost dead, reminded her about the coffin in the wagon and again she got teary-eyed.

  Angered by his slip, Gabriel forced himself to grin. ‘Yessiree … buttermilk biscuits … way to a man’s heart, if it’s his heart you’re after.’

  ‘Not me,’ Raven said.

  ‘Don’t aim on gettin’ hitched, that it?’

  ‘Nope. Never.’

  ‘Wise decision.’

  ‘Not ’cause nobody will want to marry me, if that’s what you’re thinking.’

  ‘Did cross my mind.’

  ‘Reason I’m not getting wedded is I’ll be too busy gettin’ rich.’

  ‘’Cording to that fancy-pants lawyer worked for your uncle, you’re already rich.’

  ‘Rich-er, then.’ Her boyishly pretty face wrinkled into a frown as she visualized her future. ‘Know what I’m going to do with my inheritance?’

  ‘Mean after you finish your book learnin’?’

  ‘’Course! I promised Momma I’d go to school and I intend to keep my word.’

  ‘Brains is the way.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You sure weren’t standin’ behind the barn when they gave ’em out.’

  She realized in his quirky, off-beat way he was complimenting her. It pleased her. But she had no intention of letting him know that.

  ‘Be serious, will you?’ she scolded. ‘I’m talking about after I’m educated. After I finish school and I’m all growed up.’

  ‘Ah-huh. Reckon I wasn’t lookin’ that far ahead.’

  ‘Well, I am. I have to. My dad told me, to be successful you got to plan your future. Start young, he said. Set goals. Have ambition.’

  Noticing that her tears had dried up, Gabriel kept silent.

  ‘Anyway,’ she continued, ‘soon as I’m old enough I’m going to buy a big hotel on the waterfront in Sacramento or maybe even San Francisco. One with a saloon and a casino and my name painted on the front in big gold letters. Then everyone will know who I am. You wait and see. I’ll be more famous than Lily Langtry.’

  She waited for him to respond. But he seemed more interested in cleaning his nails with the point of his skinning knife.

  ‘And you know what else,’ she said, marveling how the stallion’s coat gleamed like wet tar in the morning sun. ‘I’m going to divide all my money in half and give one half to you.’

  Hiding his surprise he sheathed the knife, took out a cigar, bit off the tip, struck a match on his heel and lit up. ‘Why would you do that?’

  ‘’Cause then you’ll be rich too and won’t ever have to worry about being wanted by the law again or becoming one of them sorry-lookin’ old-timers who spend their days sitting around, chewin’ and spittin’.’

  ‘That’s mighty charitable of you.’

  She searched his face but couldn’t tell if he was serious or teasing.

  ‘Truth is, scout, I never figured on bein’ rich. Never figured on bein’ a sorry-lookin’ old-timer either. But I did figure on spending my sunset years chewin’ and spittin’.’

  ‘I reckon that last part’s all right,’ Raven said. ‘Just so long as you use a spittoon, not my porch. Don’t want any of my guests tracking tobacco juice into the lobby.’

  ‘Seems reasonable. What’s more, I appreciate you offering to take care of me when it comes time to put my teeth in a glass at night.’

  She sensed beneath his teasing he was serious and felt embarrassed.

  ‘No need to make a big fuss about it. Jumpin’ Judas! I’m just trying to pay you back for looking after me now.’

  ‘I appreciate that, too. Gives a fella peace of mind knowin’ he won’t be thrown to the wolves. Now,’ Gabriel indicated the wagon, ‘unless you got to go pee behind them rocks, climb aboard an’ let’s ride.’

  After another butt-aching, spine-jarring hour in the sun they approached a high-walled canyon. Ahead, the trail split, one way leading to Las Cruces and the other southeast through the canyon toward the town of Santa Rosa.

  Gabriel guided the team into the canyon. The sand was softer here. Noticing a crushed cigarette butt in one of several hoof prints they passed, he reined up and told Raven to tie Brandy to the wagon. Knowing he never did anything without a reason, she asked him why.

  ‘Comin’ into broomtail territory.’

  ‘Really? How can you tell?’

  He pointed to his nose.

  ‘You can smell wild horses?’

  ‘When the wind’s right.’

  She sniffed several times. ‘Can’t smell a dang thing.’

  ‘It’s a skill takes some gettin’ used to.’ Eyes shaded by the flat brim of his hat he glanced about them, searching for any glint of steel among the rocks above them. ‘Most likely they’ll avoid us. But I don’t want to risk Brandy gettin’ tore up by some jealous mustang tryin’ to protect its mares.’

  Raven sniffed again. But all she could smell was the sweat of the lathered horses pulling the wagon.

  ‘Use the halter back there,’ Gabriel added, thumbing behind them. ‘An’ try to get to it ’fore Christmas rolls around.’

  Grudgingly, Raven climbed over the seat into the back of the wagon, picked up the rope halter and clucked her tongue at the Morgan. The stallion came trotting up. She slipped the halter over his head, tied a rope to it and knotted her end to a ring fastened to the side of the wagon.

  Gabriel slapped the reins across the backs of the two big horses. Both threw their shoulders against the harness and plodded on without complaint.

  Raven returned to the wagon-box. ‘Someday will you teach me how to smell wild horses?’

  Before he could answer he saw a rifle glinting between some rocks ahead. Instantly he threw himself sideways, knocking Raven from the seat.

  As both went sprawling onto the ground they heard a rifle shot.

  ‘Get under the wagon!’ he barked.

  His words were drowned out by gunfire. Bullets ricocheted off the wagon and kicked up little spurts of dust all around them.

  Making sure Raven was unhurt, he crawled behind the nearest wheel, aimed at where he’d last seen the rifle glinting and fired two quick shots.

  More return rifle fire pinned them down.

  The shots came from different directions and Gabriel counted three maybe four men hiding in among the rocks ahead of them.

  ‘Can you see who it is?’ Raven hissed.

  Gabriel shook his head.

  ‘Why’re they shooting at us? Think someone recognized you in Deming and told the sheriff?’

  Instead of answering her, he took off his hat and tossed it to his right. Instantly, a hail of gunfire followed as the bushwhackers all fired together.

  Gabriel took quick aim and fired twice.

  Raven heard a scream, and even as the sound echoed off the canyon walls, she saw a small red-haired man tumble down from the rocks ahead.

  ‘That’s him!’ she pointed. ‘One of the wranglers at the station who asked if Brandy was for sale.’

  ‘Reckon they decided stealing was cheaper than buyin’,’ Gabriel said. Reloading his Colt, he gave it to her. ‘Keep ’em busy while I get my rifle.’

  Before she could argue he moved to the rear of the wagon, pulled the lock-pins free and slowly lowered the tail-gate.

  ‘Aim at their smoke,’ he told her, and climbed into the w
agon.

  At once the men hiding in the rocks opened fire. Bullets chewed at the wood around Gabriel. A few hit the coffin, angering him.

  Raven, both hands clasping the big heavy Colt, did as she was told and fired at the puffs of rifle smoke.

  Gabriel, meanwhile, crawled alongside the coffin and grabbed the Winchester lying behind the seat. Levering a shell into the chamber, he fired round after round at the rocks where he’d last seen the bushwhackers.

  All shooting stopped.

  No one moved.

  Time froze.

  ‘Hey, you at the wagon,’ a voice yelled. ‘All we want is the horse. Turn him loose an’ you can go on your way.’

  Gabriel judged where the voice was coming from, looked in that direction and caught a glimpse of red shirt between some rocks. He rested the rifle atop the wagon and fired rapidly. The bullets ricocheted off the rocks in all directions, one of them nailing the owner of the red shirt.

  There was a sudden, painful cry.

  A gaunt dark-bearded man staggered to his feet, dropped his rifle and collapsed. His body came flip-flopping down from rock to rock and landed on the canyon floor.

  Immediately, a prolonged hail of bullets pinned Gabriel down in the wagon. Unharmed but covered in splinters, he lay there until the shooting stopped.

  ‘Scout, you OK?’

  ‘Fine.’ Raven raised her head and squinted at the rocky canyon walls. ‘How many, y’think?’

  ‘Two less’n before.’

  Silence.

  High overhead a soaring hawk screeched in the wind.

  Presently, they heard horses galloping off.

  ‘Don’t move,’ Gabriel warned her. ‘Could be a trap.’

  They waited anxiously for several minutes. Then he crawled to the rear, jumped off and dived under the wagon next to Raven.

  No shots were fired.

  ‘Reckon they’re gone.’

  ‘Momma was right,’ Raven said after a pause. ‘Trouble follows you around like a lonely shadow.’

  ‘Don’t dispute that.’

  ‘Know what else she said?’

  ‘Maybe you should keep it to yourself.’

  ‘Said I should always listen to you, and could trust you with my life.’

  ‘Let’s hope it never comes to that.’

  ‘It just did and you lied to me. Why?’

  Gabriel, deciding it was safe, slid out from under the wagon.

  Raven immediately crawled out and stood up beside him.’I asked you a question, Gabe. Why’d you lie to me?’

  ‘Figured you had enough on your mind.’

  ‘In other words, you didn’t think I could handle it?’

  His tight-lipped silence told her she was right.

  ‘Now who’s varying? First you tell me I’m responsible an’ next you won’t trust me enough to tell me the truth.’

  She was right. What could he say?

  Angry, she stared him in the eye. ‘Don’t ever lie to me again, all right? Otherwise, I swear I’ll never trust you. Ever.’

  Gabriel looked at her, at her boyish innocent face, her big black eyes so full of grit and determination, her full-lipped mouth that smiled easily yet revealed her stubbornness, and knew she was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

  ‘Got my word on it, scout.’ He stuck out his hand.

  Raven continued looking into his light-blue eyes for another moment, as if trying to decide if he meant what he said, and then shook hands.

  Up till then she had held her emotions in check. But now, as if overwhelmed by the whole experience, her lower lip trembled.

  ‘I sure could use a hug,’ she said, fighting tears.

  She didn’t have to ask twice.

  He hugged her like it was the last time he’d ever see her.

  CHAPTER SIX

  That night they made camp in a remote, sheltered gully.

  While Gabriel built a fire Raven went off and killed a rabbit with her slingshot. They roasted it over the flames and ate it for supper. When they were finished, Raven threw the bones and carcass out in the desert for the scavengers, leaving Gabriel to water the horses.

  When it came time to bed down, he hobbled the Morgan and built the fire up in case the bushwhackers returned and tried to jump them. He then took the first watch and told Raven he’d wake her in three hours.

  ‘You won’t forget, will you,’ she said skeptically.

  ‘Gave you my word I wouldn’t lie to you again, didn’t I?’

  Raven nodded, satisfied. Kissing him on the cheek, she yawned, said goodnight and curled up in her blanket beside the fire.

  Gabriel refilled his mug with coffee, fired a smoke and leaned back against his saddle to contemplate his future. Now that he had Raven to look after he could no longer go through life not caring what happened to him. He had to stay alive, no matter what, until she was old enough to look after herself. That meant they had to get Ingrid buried, return to Deming and board a train for California as fast as possible – all the time hoping that no more bounty hunters recognized him from the reward posters scattered throughout New Mexico, Texas and Arizona.

  A coyote yip-yipped in the darkness, interrupting his thoughts.

  Gabriel looked at Raven asleep in her blanket. Just the sight of her made him feel good. But it also reminded him of her mother, Ingrid, and that didn’t feel so good.

  Rising, he went to the wagon. The pine coffin looked pale and lonely in the flickering firelight. Sadly he placed his hand on it, the wood feeling damp to his touch, and thought about the dead woman inside. Fate had thrown them together under the most unlikely of circumstances and now he was responsible for her daughter.

  At first he’d thought Raven would be a burden, a nuisance even, but in fact the very opposite was true: having her around not only gave him comfort but added purpose to his life and now he couldn’t imagine being without her.

  ‘You miss her, don’t you?’

  He turned and saw Raven sitting up, watching him from her blanket.

  ‘What’re you doin’ awake?’

  ‘Was having a nightmare. This big ol’ black bear was chasing me and…. You do, don’t you?’ she repeated. ‘Miss Momma, I mean?’

  ‘More’n I reckoned on.’

  ‘Me, too. Lots.’

  Feeling her pain, Gabriel came and hunkered down beside her.

  ‘It’s too late now, I know,’ she continued, ‘but I wish I’d been nicer to her. Momma always loved me and treated me fairly – even when I didn’t deserve it – and I never realized that until she … till it was too late.’

  ‘Only natural. All part of bein’ a young’un. When I was growin’ up I never thought much of my pa—’

  She wasn’t listening. ‘You don’t know this, Gabe, but I used to hate Momma and be mean to her.’

  Gabriel remembered Ingrid saying that she was having problems with Raven, but decided not to mention it. ‘Must’ve thought you had a reason.’

  ‘Sure – on account of how Dad got killed. I blamed Momma for it. Said if she hadn’t made him take her into town to pick up her stupid birthday dress he’d ordered from St Louis, he wouldn’t have been in Santa Rosa and accidentally gotten shot by them three drunken cowboys. ’Course it wasn’t really Momma’s fault. Deep down, I knew that all along. Fact is, Dad was the one who nagged her into going. I heard him. Heard her telling him she didn’t mind waiting until another day, too. But it didn’t matter. Not to me. I was so angry about Dad dying on me when he didn’t have to … that … well, I had to blame someone.’ Raven paused, tears coming, and then said: ‘You think Momma knows I really loved her? Now that she’s dead, I mean?’

  Gabriel smiled and put his hand against Raven’s cheek. ‘Sure.’

  ‘Not just saying that to make me feel better?’

  ‘Nope. Your mom knows. She knew all along, in fact.’

  ‘How you know that?’

  ‘Told me so … at the farm an’ at your uncle’s house in Old Calico. Said she was the luc
kiest woman alive. Said God had given her a fine husband who loved her an’ treated her special, and a loving daughter who meant more to her than anythin’ in the world.’

  ‘Momma said that?’

  ‘More’n once. So quit your worryin’, OK? Get some rest. You have to spell me in a couple of hours.’

  Nodding, Raven lay back and smiled at Gabriel. ‘I love you,’ she whispered. ‘I know I say hateful things sometimes, things that make you madder than a spit-on hornet, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love you. I do. More than anyone else in the world. Never forget that.’

  He smiled, and gently kissed her on the forehead. ‘Go to sleep.’

  She yawned sleepily, ‘Hope that ol’ bear don’t come back,’ closed her eyes and almost immediately drifted off.

  Gabriel pulled the blanket up under her chin. He then stirred the fire, sending sparks shooting up into the cool darkness. Stretching the aches from his weary muscles, he sat down, leaned back against his saddle and began rolling a smoke.

  Being a surrogate father, he realized, was more complicated than he’d expected.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  A little more than a year ago, when Ingrid and Raven had moved west to Old Calico, theirs was the farthest farm from Santa Rosa – almost an hour’s ride from the edge of town.

  Now, as they crested Mimbres Hill and looked down the long slope that reached across the desert to the farm on which she’d been born, they saw three other small spreads had sprung up. Beyond that the framework of a fourth partially built house stood at the foot of the hill.

  ‘Good-God-awmighty,’ Raven said, whistling. ‘Where’d all them folks spring from?’

  ‘Easterners, most likely,’ Gabriel said disgustedly. ‘Ain’t enough they cluttered up all the land east of St Louis; now, thanks to the railroad, they have to stampede out here an’ crowd our territory, too. Progress!’ he spat out the word, adding: ‘Pretty soon there won’t be a place left where a man can ride without bumping shadows.’

  Raven chuckled. ‘Now you sound like my Dad. He hated to be crowded. That’s why he and Momma moved way out here, even though she would have preferred to live in Santa Rosa or even Las Cruces.’

  ‘I never met your father,’ Gabriel said as he guided the wagon down the hill. ‘But the more I hear ’bout him the more I wish I had.’