Chapter 8

I joined Claire in the parlor. She had regained her composure and her eyes were steady. She had her Remington on, her shotgun and rifle beside her on the sofa. I knew what she had planned.

I took her hands, and kissed her gently. “You can’t go, honey. None of you. If we go together, and things go bad, there will be no one alive to keep the ranch going and look after our family. Sabrina, Henri, and Paris all need you. You’re the glue that holds this family together. Please don’t fight me on this.”

Tears welled again. She looked like she was going to argue but nodded. “I know. I just wish I could go along. I want you to promise me something. If you get to Kramer first, take my shotgun and shoot his balls off. Give him a minute to think what his life is going to be like going forward, then use the other barrel to blow his head off. Promise.”

“If I can, I will.”

If you can’t, just kill him. And I want you home. You’ve got a new set of responsibilites.”

She placed my hand on her stomach. “I missed my monthly twice now. Your little colt if growing, and he’s going to need his father.”

All the gun battles, the stampedes, the time I’d nearly died of thirst in the desert or froze to death in the Colorado winter, all the times I’d been in terrible danger were nothing compared to what I was feeling now. I was terrified and floating at the same time. I wrapped Claire in my arms, hugging her gently, even though I wanted to crush her to me. She grinned for the first time since any of this had started. “Hug me like a man! You won’t hurt the baby and I need to feel your strength!”

I complied with joy, smothering her with kisses. It was the first time she had seen me with tears in my eyes, and she tried to kiss them away. We finally broke, and I slid down and kissed her stomach. “Be strong little man. I’ll be home soon.”

Brad came rushing in, grinning like crazy, and saw me. His grin got wider until he remembered why he was there. “Better come outside, Zeke. We got company coming.”

I wondered who it could be. It seemed here lately the only visitors we had wanted to kill us. I picked up Clair’s ten gauge and walked out on the porch. Two wagons and about a dozen riders were coming through the gate. I saw why Brad was grinning. Only one man could sit a horse like that. The white stallion he favored stilled shined in the sun despite the trail dust. I called my wife outside.

They stopped in front of the house, the horses lined up, the ladies sitting in the wagons grinning. I stepped down, pulling Claire along. The older man dropped down off the white, still athletic despite his age. I held my hand out. “Hello, Pa. It is truly a pleasure to see you again.”

He shook, then hugged me, then did the same to Brad. The others had dismounted, and we walked down the line shaking and hugging, making introductions as we walked. We reached the wagons and four women stepped down. Claire gripped my hand tightly, suddenly unsure of herself.

“Claire, this is Emily, my sister-in-law, Paul’s wife. This is Jane, another sister-in-law, Rob’s wife. This is Maria Conchita Dolores Soto Walters, my step-mother. And this is Jenny, the baby of the family. Family, this is Claire, my wife.” The group grinned. Maria was on me constantly to find someone, and when Brad and I took off to look for gold, she told me to find a wife while I was at it.

Fourteen-year-old Jenny launched herself into my arms, crying and hugging me. I was her favorite brother and everyone knew it. As soon as she turned me loose she locked down on Claire, crying with happiness.

I told them what had happened, leaving out none of the details, showing them a photograph of my family. I went against the norm at the time of the man being the centerpiece of the photo, standing behind Claire as she sat, the girls to either side. When Jenny found out she had nieces, and that one was wounded and in bed, she charged in. My father, brothers, and the rest of the family listened to my story, the faces getting grimmer as it unfolded.

Pa turned to his riders, hands he’d had for years. “Get fresh mounts, boys, we got some more traveling ahead of us.”

It took a half hour before they had wrangled the new horses, complimenting the mounts. I promised them when we got back we’d visit Senor Gomez.

My father and brother rode beside me and Brad, as we told them the story of how I came to own the ranch. They grinned, then turned serious. “That letter you sent Marshall Jenkins started a storm, son. Those brands come from three different states and a territory. We’ve heard rumors of an organized ring of rustlers, but his is the first concrete proof they’re all being funneled through one man. I’m here as your father, but I’m also here as a Ranger.”

I had never mentioned to my family that my father was a Captain in the Texas Rangers, as I’d never bothered to tell them my brother Paul was in the Arizona Rangers, a Lieutenant on the fast track to being Captain. Rob, my second oldest brother, owned a small ranch and served as County Sheriff, and one of the brands shown was one he was keenly interested in, as the owner had been discovered murdered, along with his wife and five-year-old daughter. It was a remote ranch, and the crime wasn’t discovered for almost three weeks. He still tried to trail them, losing them when they passed into Indian Territory and he had to give up and return home.

“There’s a couple of U.S. Marshalls heading up this way, wanting to talk to you. I would have thought they would have already been here.” I looked at Paul, the hairs on my neck rising. “If that’s true, they may have met a bad end.”

Pa sighed. “Well then, it’ll be just another thing to hang them for.”

I drew up. They noticed and stopped. “I’m truly proud to see you, but if you’re expecting me to obey orders and follow your direction, we need to part ways right now. These people have my daughter. Just the fact that they have her, let along if they beat her or worse, turned me into Judge, Jury, and Executioner. There won’t be any arrests, no trials, no chance for them to escape or get off with a slick lawyer. They won’t even get a burial, I’ll leave them where they’re laying and burn everythign down around them. Understand?”

Paul started to object, but Pa stopped him. “We got no jurisdiction here son. We’re just private citizens until the Marshalls show up and swear us in as Federal Deputies. Until then, we’re just here to support family. Rob, Paul, you hearing me?”

They nodded. Paul didn’t seem pleased at all but he let it slide. Pa grinned. “That being said, this is your show Zeke. What can we do?”

Right then was when I missed Bud most. He was better at Carlos in the woods, and I thought Carlos was a ghost. Grinning, I asked if I could get Jacinto to help him scout.

Jacinto was Jacinto Torres. He wasn’t Mexican, he was a full blood Apache, first cousin to Geronimo. Pa had helped him out of a scrape in Mexico, and he had returned the favor in Texas. They had a long complicated relationship, actually being on opposing sides in fights twice. When Geronimo surrendered and his people were sent to reservations, Jacinto showed up with his wife and two boys. Pa put them in Anglo clothes, and sent them to a remote part of the ranch. When the Army came calling looking for strays, Pa said all he worked were Americans and a few Mexicans, but he was welcome to look. A Lieutenant interviewed Jacinto. He spoke fluent Spanish, a result of having a Mexican wife his tribe had captured as a child. The oficer looked at their beat up clothes, saw he had a single shot rifle and no sidearm, thanked them and proceeded to leave. He was talked into staying for dinner, enjoying the meal immensely.

When he reported to the Captain that he was just a harmelss old Mexican with a cheerful family, they left it at that and went looking elsewhere. What the Lieutenant didn’t understand was that most of the laughter that night was directed at him, for eating a meal with one of the most dangerous warriors of the Apache Nation and not having a clue. Jacinto put the old rifle up, slid his Winchester into it’s scabbard, and buckled on his two Colt Navy revolvers after he left. Most of the old hands knew who he was and thought the whole thing was hilarious.

He and Carlos nodded at each other, took spare horses, and left. I knew by the time we got there they would have a rough idea of how many we faced and how fortified they were.

“What about them?”

I looked where Paul was pointing, seeing the troopers in the distance. “We came to an agreement. We run the show, they just back us up. They want this settled just as bad as we do, before they get tasked with cleaning them up alone. This way they can turn in a report that they handled the situation with the help of some locals, and everyone’s happy. Besides, just as soon as we switch mounts we’ll leave them in the dust. If they’re lucky, they may get there after the shooting is over.”