The Badger's Revenge (31 page)

Little puffs of dust flew up behind the two horses each time a hoof landed heavily on the ground. There was no need to worry about hiding their destination, but Josiah was tense anyway, constantly looking for the next ambush, sure that O'Reilly would kill him sooner rather than later.

Regardless of Juan Carlos's knowledge of the Irishman's trek to the border and potential union with Cortina, there were enemies to be on the lookout for right in the heart of Austin.

How far O'Reilly's shadow and orders fell was never in question. The scoundrel had picked up right where Charlie Langdon had left off, creating a gang of followers who, for some reason, were more than happy to do his bidding.

There was no doubt O'Reilly was capable of meanness and madness, violent acts that would make even the most experienced Ranger wince and look away, but it had never appeared to Josiah that the Irishman had the gift of persuasion—other than with a six-shooter and a knife. There had to be more to the man's power than he knew.

The trail narrowed through another thick grove of trees, and Josiah continued to lead the way.

Buildings on the outskirts of the city were easily within a half a mile's ride, in sudden view once they broke out of the trees. Josiah was not planning on slowing down until he reached the house he called home, but he was surprised to see a familiar horse standing idle in the middle of the trail about fifty yards up.

Juan Carlos was waiting, sitting on his nameless chestnut stallion, a hard look on his face.

Josiah pushed Clipper a little harder, rushing to Juan Carlos, then eased the Appaloosa back, coming to a quick stop. Scrap followed suit and stopped Missy beside Josiah, with a concerned look on his face.

“Whoa, there, Clipper,” Josiah said, patting the horse's sweaty neck. “I expected to find you at the house,” he said to Juan Carlos.

“I am here.”

“I can see that. Something is wrong.” Josiah squinted knowingly, it wasn't a question.

“
Sí
, there is. Two men are watching the house, waiting for your return. They are well armed and unfamiliar. I am sure they do not intend to look out for your best interests.”

Josiah felt a burning sensation in his chest. “I was afraid that might happen.” He flipped the reins, but Juan Carlos eased his horse in front of Clipper, gently grabbing the bridle, not allowing Josiah to pass.

“You cannot go home, señor. They will kill you and your son.”

“They will anyway. I have to protect him.”

A slight smile slipped across Juan Carlos's leathery brown face. “Señor Lyle is not there. Nor is Ofelia.”

“Where are they?”

“Safe in Little Mexico.”

“You're sure?”

“That's the first place they'll look,” Scrap interjected. “Everybody knows Wolfe favors Mexicans.” He waited a second, then nodded. “No offense to you, Juan Carlos,” he added.

Scrap's tone was conciliatory, which was as uncommon as a pure white hawk flying overhead. The gesture surprised Josiah, but he didn't care at the moment to find out what had changed between the two men. Perhaps it had something to do with McNelly, or maybe not.

“If those men go after
el niño
, they will not leave there alive.” The look in Juan Carlos's eye was as unmistakable as the certainty in his voice.

Scrap just shrugged. “We're gonna have to have our eyes peeled then.” He looked at the sky, then said, “It'd be easier to travel at night, but I got a feelin' there's bad weather comin' along. Pink skies ain't for fairy tales. Saw a tornado once in the afternoon after seein' a mornin' sky like this one here.”

“You cannot go home, Señor Josiah. I have packed as much of your gear into my bags as I could.”

Josiah exhaled loudly. “If you think it's best.”

“I do.”

“I would have liked to have seen Lyle before I left.”

A gentle, knowing look crossed Juan Carlos's face. “It is a good thing you did not come home last night, señor. There may have been more trouble than we could have handled. Leaving this way has, perhaps, saved some shooting and fear that the boy would remember. Trust me, this way is better.” He paused, then allowed himself to smile, broadly. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

Josiah felt his face flush. It was most certainly the color of the sky, but he said nothing, gave no indication of what had happened or would happen. Juan Carlos knew somehow, though. That wasn't a big surprise.

“Yeah, Wolfe, come to think of it, what in tarnation was you doin' out so late at the Fikes place?”

“That's none of your business, now, is it?” Josiah snapped.

Juan Carlos started to laugh. It was a tiny laugh just in the bottom of his throat at first, then it dropped to his thin, almost invisible belly, and he laughed deeper.

“What did I say?” Scrap said.

“Nothing,” Juan Carlos said in between laughs. “I just have not seen Señor Josiah look so young and foolish in a very long time. It is a nice thing to see.”

“If you say so.” A perplexed look crossed Scrap's face. It didn't appear that he found anything funny about the situation.

“Thank you, Juan Carlos, you're a true friend,” Josiah said, the note of sarcasm in his voice high—which of course, made Juan Carlos laugh even harder.

“I think we had better go,” Scrap said. “Are you comin', old man, or are you gonna sit here hee-hawin' all day, drawin' all kinds of notice right to us?”

“
Usted tiene el humor de una chiva
,” Juan Carlos said to Scrap, grabbing his stomach, forcing himself to stop laughing.

“What did he say, Wolfe?”

“How in the heck would I know?”

“You live with a Mexican.”

“That doesn't mean I speak Mexican.”

“He called me a name, didn't he?”

Josiah rolled his eyes. “Don't get your feathers all in a ruffle, Elliot, I'm sure he didn't call you any names, did you, Juan Carlos?”

“I said you have the humor of a goat,” Juan Carlos said, trying to catch his breath.

For some reason, Josiah found that funny, and he started to laugh, too. Juan Carlos joined him, leaving Scrap to sit on Missy with his arms crossed, a petulant look on his face, unsure of what to do next—fight or flee.

Austin disappeared behind the trio as they headed
south, and the hill country rose up to greet them.

It was a long ride to the Nueces Strip, and since Juan Carlos was in the lead, with no specific and unspoken orders from Captain Leander McNelly, Josiah found himself in the odd position of following, unaware of what their true destination was or, for that matter, what their true mission was, other than to stop the unlikely union between Liam O'Reilly and Juan Cortina, if they could.

The Strip, a broad area between the Nueces River and the Rio Grande, was home to more than its fair share of ruthless outlaws, not only Cortina, but John King Fisher, too.

Wild longhorns roamed the countryside and locally brought only about two dollars a head at market, but the long trek up to Abilene raised the price to forty dollars a head, making cattle hunting and rustling an extremely lucrative occupation. Brand doctors abounded, and if they were caught out in the brush, they were hanged on the spot. In a city, at the stockyards, the branders were most often sent off to prison if they were foolish enough to show their faces.

Josiah was well aware of the potential for Liam O'Reilly to grow his band of outlaws into a full-fledged outfit with corrupt fingers stretching all over the state of Texas, if he was successful in the Strip.

O'Reilly had already demonstrated that power in Waco and Comanche, though he'd eventually lost influence in both towns. Not only was he a cold-blooded killer, but the Irishman was also an astute businessman who had a talent for wrangling the local power, taking control of entire towns. Obviously ambition was part of the outlaw's makeup, too.

Cortina was an interesting choice for O'Reilly to try and side with. He had served in the Mexican War at a very young age, quickly becoming a folk hero to the people of Mexico. In the late 1850s, Cortina was outraged by the treatment of poor Mexicans living in Brownsville, gathered up eighty men, and took control of the town. It was called the First Cortina War. The people of Brownsville revolted, creating a militia of their own called the Brownsville Tigers. It wasn't long before the Texas Rangers showed up, and later with Colonel Robert E. Lee, commander of the Eighth Military District, the army showed up, too. Cortina was defeated and driven back into Mexico.

When Texas seceded from the Union and joined in the fight with the War Between the States, Cortina invaded Zapata County, starting the Second Cortina War, siding with the Union. He was defeated by Captain Santos Benavides and, once again, was driven back into Mexico. But Cortina continued making trouble, on both sides of the border, offering aid to the Union since Benavides was a Confederate. Cortina eventually became a general in the Mexican Army, and after the end of the War Between the States, he was considered a Union criminal of Texas, even though a pardon had been presented, but failed in the legislature.

It was only natural that the fortunes being made in cattle would catch Cortina's attention. He knew the Nueces Strip better than anyone. It was rumored by everyone that he had a large faction of rustlers that stole from the ranches and rounded up the wild longhorn as well. But recently, the ranchers had started to make some noise about the rustling and had been heard all the way in Austin. Cortina was becoming more and more powerful, more and more brazen, and the ranchers were losing a lot of cattle that weren't being shipped up north.

To Josiah, it sounded like Liam O'Reilly needed Juan Cortina far more than Cortina needed O'Reilly—but then again, what did he know of the ways of outlaws? Maybe there was a deal hatched with skills that O'Reilly held that Josiah was unaware of. That was entirely possible, making the charge to stop O'Reilly a larger matter.

But for Josiah, the nuances of the relationship didn't really matter. The trip to the Nueces Strip was personal for him.

He wanted to see the Irishman dead and buried.

 

 

They eased their pace as Onion Creek came into
view. The uplands stretched out before them, and the ground was dry, eerily similar to the San Saba, but lacking in alkali and biting flies.

Mesquites were sparse, junipers were healthy, and off in the distance, the creek was lined with cypress, sycamore, and pecan trees. Josiah's hunger kicked in, as well as his instinct, and he knew the spot would be a good place to hunt for white-tailed deer or fox squirrels.

The trees were mostly bare, and there was little bird life. On a perfect day there would be all kinds of songbirds singing and fluttering about, but the roiling sky overhead and a steady wind had driven away any signs of life, leaving the trees in silence.

The red sky of the morning had turned to an angry black in the west. Wind was starting to kick up, and the smell of a fierce rain was too strong to ignore.

The storm clouds reminded Josiah of Comanche, of Billie Webb. No matter what had happened since his return to Austin, even last night in Pearl's arms, he could not get the girl out of his mind. He worried about her welfare and was certain that that was the only reason her memory would not leave him alone.

“There is a shelter not far from here, an overhang that will protect us from the weather,” Juan Carlos said.

Josiah looked at the limestone toward the outcroppings, and for a moment held the memory of Lost Valley, of being trapped under a similar outcropping by an angry band of Kiowa. It was not a good memory.

Scrap had nearly gotten them killed, and there was a question whether or not the boy's impetuousness had caused the knife attack that left Josiah wounded. The scar was still tender, but he had decided long ago not to blame Scrap. Still, the outcropping made him nervous.

“Is there a way out?” Josiah asked, forcing his thoughts back into the moment. Not losing sight of where they were when there were men who wanted to see them dead—or Josiah at least—was extremely important.

They were riding three abreast at a slow pace. Scrap shot Josiah an angry look because of the question but held his tongue. The Lost Valley fight was still a rub between Josiah and Scrap, neither of them daring to bring up the subject.

Juan Carlos nodded. “There is. To the best of my knowledge, we have not been followed. But that does not mean someone is not waiting for us.”

“That makes me feel better,” Josiah said.

“Just the truth,” Juan Carlos answered. “What is the matter, Elliot?”