Bittner, Rosanne (22 page)

John
glanced at Ken, who had ridden in with Ames. "I say we help," Ken
told him with a grin. "And try to take one alive, Hawk. Show Captain Booth
and that there Jim Caldwell you can actually do that."

John
rolled his eyes and headed back up the ridge with troopers who were on foot.
Ken left with those who would watch the escape routes for the camp in the
canyon below. John thought again abut his conversation with Ken about Jim
Caldwell—the possible reasons the man could have for wanting him removed from
the Rangers... and why the man was so upset that he'd blown up Derrek Briggs
and his bunch.

Maybe
the reason Caldwell himself had not had any trouble with cattle rustlers was
because he knew them, maybe paid them to leave his cattle alone and to bring
him cattle they stole from other ranchers. Others would say he was crazy. He
didn't dare even suggest such a thing without some good proof, and he was not
likely to come by that. Caldwell would be too smart. Maybe he
was
crazy
to even think it, but Caldwell seemed a little worried about something, and
all too eager to end his career with the Rangers. There had never been anything
personal between them, except that Caldwell hated all Indians and anyone with
Indian blood. He'd had to fight them over the years to build his little Texas
empire, and John could understand how both sides felt about that. Again he
didn't care to get involved in such issues. Life was hard enough without
getting into other peoples' problems, and that included allowing any interest
in Tess Carey. The woman was out of the question, out of his life, out of his
heart. She'd made it very clear she was going on with her life in her own way
and needed no help from anyone, least of all John Hawkins.

All
thoughts were interrupted when Lieutenant Ames stood up and shouted to the men
below. "Holt Puckett! Give up your weapons! You are surrounded by the
United States Army! We are arresting you on behalf of the citizens of Texas,
New Mexico, and Oklahoma for murder and robbery!"

"Puckett
won't give up that easy, Lieutenant," John warned. "I wouldn't stand
right out in the open like that if I were—"

A
shot rang out, and Ames's hat flew off. The man was instantly on the ground,
his eyes wide with surprise. Two more shots were fired, and a couple of the
soldiers went down.

"The
man is crazy!" Ames told John. "He's surrounded by the Army!"

"You
don't announce yourself to men like Holt Puckett," John shouted above a
barrage of gunfire. "That's what I keep trying to tell people like you and
men like Jim Caldwell. You might as well get off the first shots by surprise
and bring a few of them down right away."

Ames
scrambled away to get his hat, then crawled back to John. "But if he had
any common sense—"

"If
he had any common sense he wouldn't be robbing banks and killing innocent
people everyplace he goes," John shot back. "Now you've gone and got
a couple of your men hurt or killed, and those outlaws down there are going to
dig in for a fight." He took careful aim with his own rifle and fired
twice, hitting one man but missing another who dived into the cabin, as did
most of the others. "Too bad they've got so many boulders and that sagging
little cabin down there to use for shelter." He fired again. "God
only knows how many supplies they've got in there. You might have to camp out
here for a few days."

Lieutenant
Ames positioned his rifle and aimed at a window. "We'll roust them out of
there."

John
grinned. "A few sticks of dynamite would do a better job."

"No!
We are not going to blow them up like you did Briggs and his men."

John
rolled onto his back and pulled a cheroot from his shirt pocket. "Suit
yourself." He lit the cheroot. "I've done my part helping you find
them. I don't aim to stay here for a week or more waiting them out."

Ames
closed his eyes in exasperation. "Well, what else can we do?" he
yelled.

John
calmly puffed on the thin smoke while the noisy exchange of gunfire continued,
made more deafening by the fact that most shots echoed against canyon walls.
Finally things quieted when Ames ordered his men to desist firing for a few
minutes and just watch the cabin.

"Well?"
Ames asked John.

"Well,
what?"

"Do
you have any ideas?"

John
looked at Ames, a handsome enough man, probably about his own age, but too
inexperienced with men like Puckett to be going after him—as well as too
inexperienced to be fighting Indians. And he couldn't help wondering how the
man managed to stay so tidy looking in a place like Texas. "I told you
what I'd do."

"Damn
it, John, you know we can't do that! Don't you have any other ideas?"

John
shrugged. "I thought the Army wanted us Rangers to stay out of their business."

"I
believe it's the Rangers who want the Army to stay out of
their
business,
but this bunch of outlaws has been committing crimes in several states and
territories. That is why this
is
Army business. Now, do you have any
ideas, or not?"

John
turned back over and carefully raised his head up enough to look at the camp
below, the cheroot between his teeth. "Well, Lieutenant, you know how men
like Jim Caldwell feel about me. If I get involved in this and do it my way, I
could get my head sliced off. Caldwell would love to bring me up on some kind
of charges, better yet, see me hang. I agreed to let the Army handle this one.
I just hate to break promises."

"John,
you are testing my patience," Ames said with a sigh of irritation. "I
believe I gave you some supplies a few weeks back before you went to search for
Mrs. Carey. You owe the Army."

Damn!
Why did the man have to mention Tess? "Hell, I'll pay you in cash for the
supplies if that's what you want."

"What
I want is to get those men out of there. Now, I know you have an idea. Just
spill it, will you?"

John
grinned, turning to look at the man. "All right." He took another
puff on the cheroot before taking it from his mouth. "I warn you, it's not
exactly a tactic the Army would usually use."

"Just
say it out."

John
scooted down farther so he could sit up straight. "Rattlesnakes."

Ames
frowned.
"Rattle
snakes?
What the hell are you talking
about?"

John
nodded toward a distant ridge. "I happen to know that they abound over
there, hundreds of them. It's called Snake Hollow. The Apache call it Place
Where Men Die. He studied the cheroot as he spoke. "I figure I could go in
there, bag a few rattlers, sneak down to that cabin tonight, climb up on the
roof and wait till morning light. I'll dump the snakes down the chimney. There
won't be a fire in the hearth this time of year. You just watch how fast those
men run out of there."

Ames
stared at him in dismay. "You're crazy!"

John
stuck the cheroot back between his lips. "Everybody knows that. Who better
to do the job?"

"You
can't just go walking into a nest of rattlers! You'll get yourself killed. If
they don't do it, those outlaws will. Do you really think you can climb up on
the roof of that cabin without them knowing it?"

John
nodded. "I can. I've done it before. I'm part Indian, remember? Us
redskins can sneak around quiet as the air."

Ames
removed his hat and ran a hand through his hair. "It will be my ass if I
let you go collect snakes and you die because of it—or if you get killed going
down to that cabin. The Rangers would love to be able to accuse the Army of
being inept or making a poor decision."

"Don't
sweat it, Lieutenant. I'll get them out of there and you can take those men in
and get all the glory."

"I
don't want the glory. I just want to get these men. They've killed a lot of
innocent people. I want to take them back alive so the relatives of those
killed can watch them hang."

John
got up and walked down the hill to his horse. "You keep them busy and
holed up. I'll go get the snakes. Empty a couple of potato sacks from your
supplies. I'll take them with me and be back by nightfall."

Ames
gave the order to his sergeant, who ran back to a pack mule and untied two
sacks of potatoes. Ames shook his head as John took the sacks and rode away.
The man truly was crazy.

Tess
could not sleep. It had been six weeks since her abduction, and she now had no
doubt that she was carrying a child... Chino's child. How could she love a baby
fathered by a man like that? What was she to do about her situation? She had no
idea where to turn. She could not stay here at Caldwell's once she started
showing, unless she lied and said the baby was Abel's. But once it was born,
everyone would know the truth... the awful truth.

The
house was dark and quiet, and she was wide awake. She got up and pulled on a
robe, deciding to go downstairs and quietly prepare herself some tea. She had
to think. There was one person she could talk to who might be able to help her
decide what to do, but she hated the thought of crawling to Jenny Simms with
such an embarrassing problem. Still, women like Jenny probably knew how to get
rid of babies. She might have to consider doing that, but it gave her chills to
think about having that done to her, and, after all, the baby inside her was
innocent of its conception. Abortion seemed so wrong, let alone dangerous. But
what were her options if she kept the child?

She
quietly went down the stairs, then frowned when she thought she heard voices.
It was two o'clock in the morning. Who would be up talking at this hour? She
listened closer. The Caldwell home was very big, several bedrooms on the second
floor, a parlor, study, library, kitchen, and another bedroom on the ground
floor. The voices seemed to be coming from the study, which she had to pass to
get to the kitchen. When she reached the study door, it was closed, and light
shone from underneath it.

Now
the voices were more clear... men, speaking softly, as though sharing some kind
of secret. There was no mistaking Jim Caldwell's gravelly voice, and her curiosity
made it impossible not to try to listen. She leaned closer to the door.

"...have
to be careful," she heard Caldwell say. "That damn John Hawkins is
too good at what he does. I'm worried someday he'll track somebody's stolen
cattle right to my ranch. I hope the son-of-a-bitch gets himself killed one of
these times, and if I can find a way to get him hanged, I'll do it."

Tess's
eyes widened in surprise. Stolen cattle? Was Jim Caldwell dealing in stolen
cattle? Others in the area had had trouble with rustlers, but to think that
Caldwell... She knelt down to peek through the keyhole, and she saw Sheriff Sam
Higgins! The man had surely sneaked here after dark and been let in, since he
had been nowhere around at bedtime. Another man stood beside him whom she did
not recognize, but he wore snakeskin boots. The only boots she'd seen like that
were worn by Caldwell's top man, Casey Dunlap. She recognized him even though
his back was to her. Dunlap was tall and thin, and no one else wore boots like
that. She didn't like the man, who always looked at her as though she were a
prostitute.

"I've
got to get some new men together now that Briggs is out of the picture,"
Dunlap said. "Goddamn Hawkins blew him up with dynamite."

"I
am well aware of that, Dunlap. His ass is on the line for that one."

"I
can take care of Hawkins for you anytime, boss. You know the kind of aim I
have. I could hunt him down—"

"No!
None of that. Not unless it seems we have no other choice. Shooting a Texas
Ranger will only cause the rest of them to investigate even deeper, maybe lead
them to places we don't want them. We'll just have to reorganize. Maybe you can
go up to Indian Territory and find some new men. We'll lay low for a while, let
the rustling matter die down. I've collected plenty of extra beef. Just do a
damn good job of altering the brands before you bring them in."

Tess
quickly turned away, afraid she would be spotted. She'd heard all she needed to
hear. Now she understood why Jim Caldwell had put up such a fuss about John
Hawkins killing Derrek Briggs. He had
known
the man! Briggs had been
stealing cattle for him! Jim Caldwell had built his sprawling empire partly
from stealing other ranchers' cattle, and yet he passed for being one of El
Paso's leading citizens!