Bittner, Rosanne (43 page)

John
leaned down and placed the barrel of his six-gun hard against one of Dunlap's
eyes.

"John!
We need him alive!" Ken reminded him. "You'll get to watch him
hang."

John
literally trembled with a need to pull the trigger. "And what about
Caldwell? These cattle are
stolen,
aren't they? You've burned off the
brands, and you were going to sell them to Emiliano Cordera, right? Jim
Caldwell is behind the whole thing. He's been doing this for three or four
years now. True?"

Dunlap
curled onto his side, grabbing his knee again. "How... did you find out...
about Cordera?"

John
knelt down and grabbed hold of the man's hair, jerking his head back.
"That doesn't matter. I want to hear you tell me it's
true!"
John
growled.

A
panting, sweating Dunlap grimaced as he answered. "It's true."

John
kept hold of Dunlap's hair and rammed his six-gun against the man's throat.
"You're going to testify to that in court, Dunlap! You nail Caldwell for
us, and I just might be able to get you sent to prison instead of hanged! God
knows how bad I'd like to see your neck stretched, but I'd rather see Caldwell
put out of business! You cooperate, and you just might live!" He put his
gun away and jerked Dunlap to his feet. The man screamed bloody murder with the
pain in his knee, but John pushed and shoved, finally getting Dunlap into the
saddle on another man's horse. Ken was examining that man, one he'd shot.

"He's
dead," he told John. He looked around. "I wounded the other three.
We've got men to bury and wounds to tend, and we've got cattle to round up. We
need to take them back with us, show the burned-off brands."

"We
have enough men for all of that," John answered, still glaring at Dunlap.

One
of the other Rangers rode up to them. "We have one dead Ranger," he
said. "One dead and one wounded rustler."

"What
the hell are you doing arresting us in Mexico!" Dunlap screamed.
"You... can't do that!"

"Texas
Rangers can do anything they want," John answered.

"Like
hell! This is... false arrest! You'll be in trouble on this one, Hawkins!"

John
picked up a rock and walked over to the man. "Well, then, when we get you
and these cattle across the Rio Grande, I guess we'll have to officially arrest
you all over again, won't we?" With that he slammed the rock against the
man's already-shattered knee, enjoying his screams of pain. "That's for
shooting me in the back, you stinking coward, and for costing the life of a
Texas Ranger here today!" He threw down the rock and ordered three of the
rangers to go round up the cattle. "One of you help the wounded and guard
them. Ken and I will start digging to bury the dead. We have too far to go to
try to take them back with us."

As
the others headed out, Ken faced John, wiping sweat from his eyes with his
shirtsleeve. "Good job, Hawk."

John
winced rubbing at his ribs again. "Thanks for saving my rear."

"All
in a day's work."

John
managed a smile. "Yeah." His dark eyes showed an affection he'd never
allowed to show before. "I'll miss working with you, Ken. You come visit
me and Tess often, you hear?"

Ken
nodded. "Actually, you were right a few months back when you said I was
gettin' too old for this. Maybe you could use a ranch hand once you get
settled."

Their
gaze held in mutual understanding. "I probably could at that. I'll be sure
to come to you first."

Ken
nodded. "I'm glad for you, Hawk." He looked around. "And glad
this mess is over with."

John
looked over at a groaning Casey Dunlap. "Yeah. So am I. So am I."

Tess
laid the baby in his cradle, setting it beside the bed. She wanted to keep him
close so that she heard any little fussing he might make. She started to take
off her robe to go to bed when she heard someone knock at the back door. She
frowned, wondering who would come so late, but her heartbeat quickened when she
realized it was probably John. He was back!

She
retied her robe and hurried to the door, flinging it open, but to her surprise
and sudden terror it was Jim Caldwell who barged inside, closing the door
behind him. Tess quickly moved around to the other side of the table. "How
dare you walk right in here!" she said.

"And
how dare
you
destroy my life!" he growled.

She
grasped the top of her robe, pulling it tighter around her throat. "What
are you talking about?"

"You
know goddamn well what I'm talking about, you bitch! You
know
something!
I don't know what it is or how you know it, but you drove my wife away! She
left
me today. Thirty years of marriage, and she's gone! The worst part is, she
accused me of cattle rustling, even said I probably did business with
Comancheros! I'm a law-abiding citizen of Texas, trying to—"

"Don't
tell me about being law-abiding!" Tess interrupted. "My husband was
back-shot,
right after paying a visit to your ranch!"

"That
had nothing to do with me! I want to know what kind of
lies
you've been
spreading about me, woman!"

"I
haven't been spreading any lies. I've said nothing to anyone but your wife, and
she
came to
me
asking questions! Our conversation went no
further. So how would you know about it? Harriet promised not to tell anyone
she had come to see me."

"She
didn't have to tell me." Caldwell began moving around the table. "The
man who drove her here told me where she'd been two days ago. It was after that
Harriet started acting strangely. Yesterday she packed her bags and told me
exactly why she was going back to Virginia. She caught the train just an hour
ago. How in hell am I supposed to face my sons with the bullshit she's going to
be telling them about their father?"

Tess
moved toward the archway, trying to think. Did she need to defend herself
physically? "Anything you might have to explain to your sons is your
own
fault, Mr. Caldwell! What do you expect me to do about it? Why are you even
here?"

"I
want to know what you told my wife, and
why!"
Tess could see his
fists were clenched. "What difference would it make?" She moved
toward the heating stove in a corner of the parlor. She had no gun in the
house. The only weapon she could think of was the poker.

"It
makes a difference to
me!"

Tess
looked at him defiantly. "I hope you realize what John Hawkins will do to
you if he finds out you barged in here uninvited and threatened me!"

"I
don't give a damn what John Hawkins thinks! I can take care of him anytime I
want! Something tells me
you're
the key to all of this."

Tess
frowned. She thought she heard a noise outside. What was going on? "I am
no longer needed to put your neck in a noose, Jim Caldwell! You've done that to
yourself. If you had not been so intent on owning everything you could put your
hands on, and bringing in more money in any way you could, even if it came to
rustling cattle, you wouldn't be in this mess!"

He
stepped even closer, in a threatening posture. Tess reached behind her, feeling
for the poker. "I'm asking you again, what is it you know? What did you
tell my wife?"

Tess's
heart pounded so hard it hurt. The baby! What about the baby! She had to keep
his attention away from her little boy. The man looked demented. He might do
anything for vengeance. "I told her the
truth
—something I heard one
night at your house. You were having a meeting, with Sheriff Higgins and your
foreman, Casey Dunlap! I heard you wish John Hawkins
dead"
—she
sneered—"and I heard you talking about stealing cattle! I know, Mr.
Caldwell, and it won't be long before the whole town knows! But that won't be
because of anything I've said. I never told a soul but John! He is out there
somewhere right now getting all the evidence he needs. It will do you no good
to threaten or harm me."

"You'd
be surprised the power I have, missy, the people I control! Nobody in this town
will believe I've ever done such things, or that I had anything to do with
shooting your husband. Believe me, if it
had
been me, I'd have
finished
the job, and killed his partner, too! I've got plenty of men who can find
John Hawkins and make sure he never gets back here with any evidence. And
you!
You are going to keep your mouth
shut!
In
fact, I'll shut it
for
you!"

"You've
lost your mind," Tess answered. She grasped the poker and swung it, but a
strong hand grabbed her arm and wrenched the poker away. Struck by a hard blow
to the left side of her face, she was aware of stumbling over a low table and
landing on the floor. Something hit her on the head. Then everything went
black, yet she could hear a crashing sound, heard Caldwell shout to someone
outside.

"Light
it," he said. "I've got the lamp in here."

She
heard a strange whooshing, smelled smoke. Smoke! Was she dreaming? Imagining?
Why couldn't she move? The smell grew stronger. Still she couldn't move. All
consciousness left her then, for how long she couldn't be sure. When she came
to she was aware of heat, bright flames, more smoke.

Fire!
Never would she forget another fire, the old house back in Georgia in flames,
her little brother screaming for help. She could see her mother running inside
to save him, never to come out again. Flames everywhere! Everywhere! Coming out
every window, every crack and crevice. Her mother and little brother inside.
They were screaming... screaming! She struggled to rise. She had to help them.
She looked around the smoke-filled room, able only to get to her knees. Where
was she? Was she inside that burning house? She could hear crying. Was it her
brother? Maybe it was the cabin at the farm. Comancheros! They were burning her
out again!

Who
was that crying? A baby!
Her
baby! This was her house, and this was
real. The baby... fire! Smoke! Jim Caldwell had set her house on fire and
planned on her and her baby burning up. What a terrible revenge against John!
She couldn't let him come home to this. And she could not let her baby die this
horrible way!

She
could feel heat now as she kept her head low where there was the least smoke.
The baby was crying harder. If he kept it up, he would inhale too much smoke.
He could die just from that. What kind of man would do a thing like this to a
woman and child! She looked around, getting her bearings from the furniture,
knowing if she stayed to the right of the sofa and crawled straight forward,
she would reach the bedroom doorway. Struggling against the pain in her head
and flashes of blackness, she moved on hands and knees toward the bedroom, and
the sounds of her crying baby.

She
knew then. She knew how much she loved her son. If she had to crawl through
flames to save him, she would do it. She scrambled faster. She could see the
door jamb, see the rocker panels of the cradle. The baby's crying was mixed
with coughing now. "Dear God," she muttered. "Save us!" She
felt for the cradle, found it, reached inside. Weeping with joy, she took out
the baby and held him close, so happy to feel him moving and kicking, to hear
his sputtering cry. She quickly untied her robe and wrapped him inside it,
hoping to shield him from more smoke.

She
had to struggle against her own panic and tears then. Flames licked at all the
walls of the house. How was she going to get out? She thought she heard noises
outside, shouting, the clanging of the fire bell; but she knew from what she
saw that the house was already too far gone for anyone to save it. She had
grown to love this place where she had truly made love to John Hawkins for the
first time, where this precious little baby boy had been born, this helpless
creature who depended completely on his mother for sustenance and love. All she
had managed to rebuild from her shattered life was here, and it was going up in
flames... again. She remembered the noise outside, remembered Caldwell calling
out to someone. That someone had set fires all around the house to prevent any
escape. Jim Caldwell expected her and her son to go up in flames, but she would
not let him win! Never!

She
crouched, ducking her head and running into the kitchen, stumbling into the
table. Keeping the baby close with one hand, she kept to the floor again,
crawled to the back door. It was engulfed in flames. Yes, it was apparent that
Caldwell had had help in this. A fire from one oil lamp could not have spread
so quickly, and she did not doubt it was Sam Higgins who had set fire to the
outside walls. The house was just far enough out of town that no one would have
seen the flames soon enough to help her.