Chapter 3

Jake pulled Via and the pack horse to a stop in front of the livery stable; it was just after midnight and no one came to take care of the horses. The big main door wasn't locked so Jake led his animals into stalls. He tended to them, unsaddling, watering, washing a little of the trail dust and grime off them and made sure they had good clean hay for feed. Then he walked to Mrs. Stewart's boarding house.

Jake would normally have spent another night on the trail but he wanted get home. The summer heat had descended on west Texas and long rides were harder on both horses and men.

"Glad to be done with the trail for a spell," Jake said softly. Looking forward to one of Mrs. Stewart's good meals and a soft bed, he thought. A bath wouldn't feel too bad either. "Be glad to see Emily too," he admitted in a soft voice as he entered the boarding house.

"Jake, you're home," a surprised Jeremiah almost yelled. The boy ran to Jake, throwing his arms around him. "I'm so glad you're back." Jeremiah's voice was sad, full of fear and anger."

"Glad to be home little pardner." Jake pulled the boy's face up. "What are you doing up so late? I've never heard you so upset boy. What's the problem?"

"Ma's been taken by some men. You gotta do something Jake, you just gotta."

Jake took hold of Jeremiah's shoulders and held him at arm's length. "What do you mean taken?"

Mrs. Stewart entered from the kitchen and motioned Jake to follow her and then to sit at the table. She poured a cup of her strong coffee and gave it to Jake. "Three men robbed the stage depot this morning; they took Emily, as a hostage I guess. She was in front of the depot when they came out. The Sheriff fired a shot and one of the men grabbed Emily to hide behind."

Pouring her own coffee she joined Jake at the table. "Two of the men mounted and the one holding Emily handed her up to one of them. He draped her across the saddle in front of him and the three high tailed it out of town."

Jake was stunned but he put his arm around Jeremiah. "Didn't the Sheriff get a posse together?"

"He was worried that the men would hurt Emily and said he'd trail after them when they had a chance to think they'd got away and hopefully turned her loose."

"While that bastard sits on his duff, those men could decide they didn't need her anymore," Jake said. They could kill her or even worse, he thought not wanting to upset Jeremiah anymore than he already was.

"Jeremiah go to the stable, brush Via real good and saddle him; use a clean saddle blanket," Jake ordered. "Make sure he gets water and fill my three canteens."

"You're going after them," Mrs. Stewart said. It was a statement and not a question.

"Yes em. I'm going to change into some clean clothes, put my gear together and follow Emily." He put his hand over Mrs. Stewart's and added, "I'll bring her back Amanda," he promised. "I'll bring her back or bury the men that took her."

Mrs. Stewart started to say something but stopped. She felt a chill at the look on Jake's face and in his eyes. There's no arguing with him, she thought. "Get your gear together and I'll rustle up some trail supplies."

Less than twenty minutes later Jake reentered the stable. Via was tied off to a hitching post in the aisle. The big horse was saddled and the three canteens were fastened to the saddle. A wet bandana was tied around the Via's nose.

"Why the bandana?" Jake asked. He walked around Via running his hands down the horse's legs and body. Jake wanted to make sure Via's legs showed no swelling from the ride back to El Paso. The horse seemed as strong as always. Via shook his head and nodded it up and down and acted like he wanted to get back on the trail.

"It will get more water into him without making him founder," Jeremiah answered. "Just like you taught me."

Jake walked toward the tack room and opened the door. He took the saddle scabbard with his Winchester to where Via stood and tied it under the protective fender on his left stirrup with the butt facing forward. The rifle was even with the saddle horn and could be pulled for use in a split second.

He also packed two boxes of cartridges in a saddle bag; one for the Winchester and one for his Colt. "Good job son. Do you know or did you hear which way those men rode out of town."

"I heard the Sheriff say they rode southeast along the Rio Grande. He said it didn't look like they cut across the river into Juarez. The depot manager said he heard one of men say they could cross the border at Fort Quitman."

Jake pulled the boy to him in a hug. "I'll get you mama back son, don't you worry none about that." He mounted and looked down at Jeremiah. "You go roust the Sheriff out of bed and tell him I've gone after Emily." He nodded at Jeremiah and rode Via out of the stable.

The full moon enabled Jake to cut the trail of three horses just outside of town headed south along the Rio Grande. The trail showed that one of the animals was riding heavy and all three were running hard. Jake put Via into a slow lope that the big horse could do for many miles.

Soon the trail showed the fleeing men had slowed their getaway. Fort Quitman was close to 80 miles; a hard 4 day ride from El Paso. Jake knew the men would have to rest their horses pretty soon after the gallop out of town.

Via had put in a full day but was still pretty fresh. Jake figured he would stop at midday, rest the horse until late afternoon or early evening and then continue the hunt. He dismounted and examined the hoof prints more closely. "If they keep up this pace, we'll catch em in another day or so Via."

The Hunter's moon flooded the Chihuahua desert with light. The low ground along the river was home to cottonwood trees and green vegetation and the night air was cool; at least along the water. As the land rose away from the river channel it changed into a desert with Mesquite trees, Creosote bushes and different types of cactus. Nothing moved along the Rio Grande except for one man and his horse.

Jake rode until the sun reached its zenith and the temperature climbed into the high 90s and low 100s. He stopped on the banks of the Rio Grande, finding a shady spot under a huge cotton wood. "Reckon we could both use a rest Via," Jake said as he unsaddled the animal and made a cold camp. The big horse shook his head as if to say he could still travel.

Jake understood horses and knew they could go for two weeks or more without food but they needed water as much or more than a man. He let Via take a little water then led him to a tree and tied the horse off on a short lead. About an hour later he watered the big horse again.

He knew that he could ride hard and catch the men taking Emily in the next ten hours or so. Problem was he and Via had already made a long ride back to El Paso and he didn't want Via breaking down. So he followed his plan to water and rest which would leave Via enough bottom to return home.

After letting Via drink, Jake tied the big horse with a long lead so Via could graze on the rich grasses growing along the river but the real boon was the water. He used his saddle as a back prop and rested until early evening. The heat of the day would have passed and the air would have cooled to make travel easier on both the horse and the man. The moon would be full for another few days so he could follow the sign.

He picked up the trail at dusk and put Via back into a ground covering lope. The hoof prints told the story of the men slowing their pace but still pushing their horses hard. They'll run their horses into the ground if they don't let up soon, Jake thought. Course they don't have to worry about getting back.

Jake never faltered and continued on through the moon lit night. Jake and Via traveled until around 1 AM and stopped for another short rest. After 2 hours, they hit the trail again. They had rode for at least 18 of the last 24 hours and were catching up to the men and Emily.

Fort Quitman had been called the worse site for a military post ever conceived. It was surrounded by dry, arid mountains and the river was the only water for many miles in either direction. The problem was that unlike other shores of the Rio Grande the land around the fort was hard rock scrapple and couldn't be used for farming.

The fort was miles from civilization and supplies had to be carried in by freight wagons. Sometimes the freight trains were attacked by the Apache and even the Comancheros. These bandits were the dregs of the earth consisting of thieves and renegades, both white and Indian. The attacks severely hampered the soldier's mission of military expeditions against the Apache and the Yaqui.

It was midday and stopping at the army post's stable, Jake took care of Via. With the help of the sergeant in charge of the stable he tended to Via. Jake offered to pay the grizzled old veteran and a trooper to wash the horse down as Via was covered in the alkaline trail dust.

"I'll not be takin payment for caring for one of God's creatures comin out of that damn desert," the Sergeant replied in a disapproving voice. "And I'll see the great beast is fed and watered as well."

The big horse didn't seem any the worse for wear but Jake knew the hard ride in the oven like heat and dry arid country had to have been hard on Via. I know it was damn hard on me, Jake thought. After arranging for Via's care, Jake went to see the commanding officer of the post, a Major Tom Flores whose name was on the door to his office.

"Howdy Major. I'm Jake Hightower."

Major Flores could have been used as a model of how a modern day army officer should look. He appeared to be about 40 years old and was as tall as Jake at 6 feet. Flores had a strong slender body with wide shoulders and his face showed the result of being out in the weather for most of his life. His hair was dark and worn a little long; his well trimmed mustache had just a few gray hairs.

The only thing that marred the picture was the Major's missing left arm. His empty sleeve was pinned up on the shoulder of his uniform. Jake glanced at the empty sleeve but didn't mention it as it would have been bad manners.

The Major saw Jake's glance and motioned with his right hand at the absence of his arm. "Lost the arm at the battle of Sailor's Creek Virginia in April of 65; Lee surrendered three days later." Flores seemed to look in on himself for a few seconds and recovered.

"I wanted to stay in the military and the Union Army thought I would be a fine commander for this out of the way post. They gave me the rank of Major and my appointment let them keep more physically capable officers for more important duties." Major Flores didn't sound sorry for himself, he just was stating facts. "Anyway, how may the Army and I assist you Mr. Hightower?"

"I'm lookin for three men that should have come this way sometime late last night or early this morning. Wonder if you saw them?"

"And what is your business with these men?"

Jake started to say that it was his business and none of the Major's but reconsidered. Like my Ma always said, you can catch more flies with honey than with vinegar and I need information from this man, he said to himself. "Those men robbed the stage depot in El Paso."

"You're not a law man or at least I don't see a badge," Major Flores said.

"No sir, it's more of a personal nature for me," Jake replied. "They took a young woman, Emily Santee, hostage when they rode out of town. I aim to bring her back home. Her son needs her ... and me too for that matter."

"Is Miss Santee your fiancé?

"Not yet." Jake smiled and added, "But she will be once I get her back."

"What about the men? Will you take them back to the law?"

"That's up to them Major. I will bring Emily back, if she's still alive; the how is up to the men. If she's dead..."

"I suppose I would feel the same. However, she is still with them Mr. Hightower. A sentry reported he saw four riders cross the Rio Grande just about dawn."

Jake stood, "Thanks for your help Major. Guess I better get back on their trail."

"You realize that the Army can't help you Mr. Hightower; My men and I cannot cross into Mexico."

"It's like you said Major, I'm not the law. I don't have to follow those rules." Jake stood, nodded his thanks again and walked very fast to the stable.

He was surprised to see Via waiting in the shade of the building being combed and curried by the young trooper. Jake's saddle rested on the cross bar of the hitching post along with a clean saddle blanket. The sergeant was putting something in the saddle bags and there was an extra canteen tied to the saddle horn.

"I was sure it is that you would be heading out rite quick when you got the word about those three men and the young colleen," the sergeant said with that pronounced Irish brogue. "Filled your canteen and gave you another one; water's scarce once you get past the Rio Grande and it's like manna from Heaven. Put some trail supplies in your saddle bags as well. Not much, just some jerky and beans."

"How'd you know about those men? What's you name Sergeant? Jake asked with a grin.

"I'm Sergeant Major James Francis Patrick O'Flynn and it would be a poor excuse for a sergeant I would be if I didn't know what goes on around my post." He grinned and added, "And I had one of my troopers sort a listen in while you was with the Major."

If Major Flores was the picture of a fine army officer, Sergeant O'Flynn was the opposite. O'Flynn was short, stocky with a barrel chest and was bow legged from his years on horseback. The deep red hair with streaks of gray and his blue eyes told of his Irish ancestry.

"Thank you Sergeant Major and thanks for taking care of my horse."

"Would be best if you took the time to get something to eat," O'Flynn suggested. "You're covered in alkaline dust and could use a bath your own self. You've been in that saddle for a long time. And for all the saints it wouldn't hurt to take a bit of time fore you hit the trail again; both you and that fine animal there could use the rest."

Jakes smiled and nodded. He followed O'Flynn to the mess hall and was soon elbow deep into a big steak and fried potatoes. He finished the steak, potatoes, used a piece of bread to mop up the meat juices and finished with a very large mug of water. Again following the old veteran, he went behind the stable and shucked his clothes. Using a horse trough he washed the dust and grime away. As he was bathing the young trooper washed Jake's sweaty, dirty clothes.

Handing them back to Jack, the trooper said, "You'll have to wear them wet but they'll dry damn quick in this heat."

As Jake dressed, he said, "Thanks son and thanks again Sergeant Major."

"A blessing it is to be able to help Mr. Hightower. Those scoundrels will probably head for Los Frailes; it's the only village half way close. At that, it's a good two days hard ride. The only water hole for 60 miles in any direction in this god forsaken country is Mesquite Springs. It's a day and a half's ride southwest. Not much of a spring but men on the run to Los Frailes to get away from the law stop there." Jake started to thank the sergeant again but the older man waved him away. "Go on with you now; just you make sure you bring that young lady back. That village is no place for a fine lady like herself."

Jake waited until the trooper saddled Via, checked the cinch and mounted. He walked Via across the shallow river and once on the Mexican side and through the mountain pass put him into that ground eating lope again. He couldn't wait any longer if he hoped to catch the men and Emily before they got to Los Frailes.

The land beyond the windswept mountains on the Mexican side of the Rio Grande was even drier and had less vegetation than the desert around Fort Quitman. At least at the fort a man could go to the river and get fresh water or cool off. These desert plains that stretched as far as the eye could see were barren as a table top.

"Via if I owned this place and Hell, I'd live in Hell and rent this place out," Jake said as the heat reflected back up from the hard pan. "Course that's if I could find some fool that wanted to live here."

The heat soared as the sun climbed past its zenith but Jake didn't feel like he could stop and he hoped he wouldn't ride Via into the ground. Need to catch them fore they get to Los Frailes, he repeated to himself. He had found the trail coming out of the mountains and rode in that direction. The only place the men could have gone was Mesquite Springs and then on to the outlaw haven.

About every hour, Jake would pull Via down into a slow trot and dismount. He ran beside his horse holding onto his stirrup for 15 to 20 minutes. Remounting he would push Via back into the slow cantor and continue on the men's trail.

The hoof prints showed that the men had slowed as their horses tired. Finally, very late in the afternoon, Jake saw a bump on the horizon and vultures circling over it. As he got closer he could see that it was a dead horse. Jake dismounted and examined the animal. He put his hand on the shaded underside of its neck and found it was still quite warm.

"That horse hasn't been dead more than a few hours Via," Jake said as he vaulted back into his saddle. "We'll catch em before first light." Putting his heels in Via's flanks he pushed the animal into a faster lope than before.

The trail sign showed that now two horses were riding heavy. "At least that shows Emily is still with them," Jake muttered. He saw that the men had slowed their horses even more after losing one. "Too late boys," Jake said to the wind. "Your horses are about done in and I'm on your tail."

Jake pulled Via into the shade of one of the few Mesquite trees on the plain, dismounted and loosened the saddle cinch. Taking off his big Stetson, he filled the hat with water from a canteen and let his horse drink. "We'll rest a spell Via and then hit the trail again."

The full moon rose about two hours after Jake and Via stopped. It flooded the desolate plain with a soft light that made following a trail pretty easy. Just before dawn, in that time span of darkness and almost being able to see, Jake saw a clump of trees and bushes about two hundred yards in front of him. He rode Via another fifty feet forward. He knew that this must be Mesquite Springs that the sergeant had told him about.

Pretty sure they'll hold up at the water hole, Jake thought as slowed his horse then stopped. I was right, Jake continued his thought as he peered through the predawn light toward the water hole. Ahead shining in the darkness he could see the remains of a fire with glowing coals and a small flame showing like a beacon over the flat land.

"There you are," Jake whispered as he slipped off his horse, dropped the reins to the ground knowing that Via wouldn't move and pulled his Winchester from the scabbard. Loosening the safety strap on his pistol and holding the rifle at the ready, Jake slowly crept toward the glow of the dying campfire.

Between the light from the setting moon and the glow of the fire, Jake could see the camp site. There were four forms lying around the fire and three horses tied loosely next the water seeping out of the ground. The horses were drinking from the small pool formed by the shelf rock, shouldering each other to get at the water.