Read Online A Coffin for Santa Rosa by Steve Hayes - Free Book Online
Authors: Steve Hayes
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bird folded back its wings and dived toward her. Surprised, Raven watched it plummeting straight down, talons extended, its savage cry reaching her ears. It never dawned on her that she might be the target. She knew golden and bald eagles snatched lambs and piglets from farms and on rare occasions were known to go after small dogs, but never a grown human being. Yet, even as she kept her gaze fixed on the eagle, it continued to dive toward her. In seconds, she realized, it would be upon her; and though she couldn’t believe it, when it still kept coming she was forced to accept that she was its prey.
At the last instant, just before the eagle attacked her, Raven slid off the Morgan and ducked behind some rocks.
The eagle flew past her, screeching, and landed atop a nearby piñon tree.
For several moments girl and eagle stared at each other.
Raven, having never seen an eagle or any other bird for that matter behave this way, wondered why it was acting so strangely. It was almost as if it were trying to attract her attention. She knew that was impossible. Birds didn’t have that kind of reasoning. Or did they? Come to think of it, she’d often heard strange tales of how animals and humans communicated with one another told around Apache camp-fires.
A loud whinny from Brandy interrupted her thoughts. The Morgan, in an effort to protect her, angrily charged the piñon tree. Though he couldn’t reach the perched eagle, the stallion reared up, snorting with rage.
Unconcerned, the eagle suddenly launched itself into the air, circled once overhead and then flew off.
Raven emerged from behind the rocks. Still puzzled, she gazed after the eagle. She realized it was heading toward the Mescalero reservation. Triggered by the thought, she suddenly remembered Almighty Sky, the tribal shaman famous for his legendary shape-shifter abilities. Was the eagle really Almighty Sky, she wondered, or was it just a coincidence? And if the birdwasn’t the wily old medicine man, had he used his powers to make it attack her so she’d remember him and know she wasn’t alone?
She couldn’t decide. But Almighty Sky had always been friendly toward her and her folks, and having no one else to turn to and with time running out on Gabriel, Raven swung up onto the Morgan’s back and rode in the direction of the reservation.
CHAPTER TEN
Stillman J. Stadtlander’s home sat atop a grassy knoll overlooking the Rio Grande Valley. It was a fancy three-storey mansion with ornately carved windows and a Roman-styled portico shading the front door. Built upon the site of the original single-story ranch-house, the mansion was a tribute to its owner’s colossal ego and powerful influence throughout New Mexico.
Now, as sunset cast eerie shadows over the mansion and its outer buildings and corrals, Stadtlander sat on the porch, hunched over in his wheelchair, watching his riders escorting the wagon up the grassy incline toward him. As they drew closer his gaze fixated on the driver, a man he’d grown to hate with such intensity it drained all other emotion from him. Motioning to the Mexican servant beside him to hand him his crutches, Stadtlander gritted his teeth against the agony that every movement sent knifing through his arthritis-ravaged body and dragged himself to his feet.
Pain made him dizzy and he swayed momentarily. But when the servant went to help him, the old rancher cursed him so vehemently the young man cringed as if struck.
‘Goddammit, I can stand on my own!’ Pain struck again and this time Stadtlander winced and had to fight down a gasp. Glaring at Gabriel, still some distance from him, the rancher’s leathery, jut-jawed face contorted with rage. ‘I’d sooner die,’ he told the servant, ‘than give that ungrateful, murderin’ bastard the pleasure of seeing me trapped in a wheelchair!’
His words were drowned out by the noise of the horses’ hoofs and the creaking and rattling of the old wagon pulling up in front of
At the last instant, just before the eagle attacked her, Raven slid off the Morgan and ducked behind some rocks.
The eagle flew past her, screeching, and landed atop a nearby piñon tree.
For several moments girl and eagle stared at each other.
Raven, having never seen an eagle or any other bird for that matter behave this way, wondered why it was acting so strangely. It was almost as if it were trying to attract her attention. She knew that was impossible. Birds didn’t have that kind of reasoning. Or did they? Come to think of it, she’d often heard strange tales of how animals and humans communicated with one another told around Apache camp-fires.
A loud whinny from Brandy interrupted her thoughts. The Morgan, in an effort to protect her, angrily charged the piñon tree. Though he couldn’t reach the perched eagle, the stallion reared up, snorting with rage.
Unconcerned, the eagle suddenly launched itself into the air, circled once overhead and then flew off.
Raven emerged from behind the rocks. Still puzzled, she gazed after the eagle. She realized it was heading toward the Mescalero reservation. Triggered by the thought, she suddenly remembered Almighty Sky, the tribal shaman famous for his legendary shape-shifter abilities. Was the eagle really Almighty Sky, she wondered, or was it just a coincidence? And if the birdwasn’t the wily old medicine man, had he used his powers to make it attack her so she’d remember him and know she wasn’t alone?
She couldn’t decide. But Almighty Sky had always been friendly toward her and her folks, and having no one else to turn to and with time running out on Gabriel, Raven swung up onto the Morgan’s back and rode in the direction of the reservation.
CHAPTER TEN
Stillman J. Stadtlander’s home sat atop a grassy knoll overlooking the Rio Grande Valley. It was a fancy three-storey mansion with ornately carved windows and a Roman-styled portico shading the front door. Built upon the site of the original single-story ranch-house, the mansion was a tribute to its owner’s colossal ego and powerful influence throughout New Mexico.
Now, as sunset cast eerie shadows over the mansion and its outer buildings and corrals, Stadtlander sat on the porch, hunched over in his wheelchair, watching his riders escorting the wagon up the grassy incline toward him. As they drew closer his gaze fixated on the driver, a man he’d grown to hate with such intensity it drained all other emotion from him. Motioning to the Mexican servant beside him to hand him his crutches, Stadtlander gritted his teeth against the agony that every movement sent knifing through his arthritis-ravaged body and dragged himself to his feet.
Pain made him dizzy and he swayed momentarily. But when the servant went to help him, the old rancher cursed him so vehemently the young man cringed as if struck.
‘Goddammit, I can stand on my own!’ Pain struck again and this time Stadtlander winced and had to fight down a gasp. Glaring at Gabriel, still some distance from him, the rancher’s leathery, jut-jawed face contorted with rage. ‘I’d sooner die,’ he told the servant, ‘than give that ungrateful, murderin’ bastard the pleasure of seeing me trapped in a wheelchair!’
His words were drowned out by the noise of the horses’ hoofs and the creaking and rattling of the old wagon pulling up in front of
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