Read Online [Texas Rangers 06] - Jericho's Road by Elmer Kelton - Free Book Online Page A

on that woman of his, and she dotes on this boy.”
    Hatton frowned, considering his options. An idea took a little edge from his dark mood. “He don’t have to know how the shootin’ came about. We can tell him we got ambushed, and it wasn’t our fault.”
    “ Jericho’ll see right through you. His eyes cut like a knife. Why would anybody pull an ambush on us?”
    Hatton’s spirits lifted a bit more. “Jericho hates Lupe Chavez like he was strychnine. He’ll believe it if we tell him we ran into some Chavez bandits. We’ll tell him they didn’t give us a chance.”
    “ You tell him. I wouldn’t lie to him for a hundred dollars. What about the kid? We goin’ to take him all the way home?”
    “ It’s too far, and the weather is too warm. Come daylight we’ll find a place to bury him. Jericho is goin’ to ask a lot of questions. Everybody remember: Chavez’s outfit ambushed us.”
    Wilkes grumbled, “I still say he won’t believe it.”
    Hatton’s voice was deep and dangerous. “You tell him different and I’ll kill you.”
     
    Big Jim McCawley’s place was not fancy, but it was large. A long Mexican-style rock house dominated a gentle knoll. It was surrounded by smaller, flat-topped buildings, mostly adobe, some of pickets, scattered haphazardly down the slope. Off to one side lay corrals with fences of stacked stones or upright tree branches bound tightly together with rawhide thongs dried to the hardness of steel. Everything appeared to have been built from raw materials close at hand.
    Andy and Len walked their horses so Farley could keep pace afoot. He chose to lag behind a little so he did not have to listen to Len’s long-running commentary on everything from the weather to the crowned heads of Europe, and now and then a detailed description of Teresa McCawley. Andy carried Farley’s saddle and roll. Len carried his bridle and blanket.
    Len said, “He ought to be gettin’ in a little better humor now that he can see the ranch.”
    Though Farley had ridden for long stretches while Andy and Len took turns walking, Farley had been grouchy as an old badger awakened from sleep. He seemed somehow to blame Andy and Len for the loss of his horse, though Andy knew that was illogical.
    Once while Len was taking his turn at walking they came upon a long-horned cow with her calf. Not accustomed to seeing a man afoot, she took Len for a threat to her offspring, lowered her head, and charged. Len’s long legs carried her in a wide circle until she gave up and trotted away with her calf, wringing her tail in agitation.
    Farley almost smiled.
    Andy asked Len, “You sure McCawley will lend Farley a horse?”
    “ Better than that, I’ll bet he’ll give him one. He’d take the shirt off of his back for somebody in need. He was a Ranger himself once, long before the war.”
    Andy saw dust rising from behind a corral fence. As the breeze swung around from that direction he could hear men yelling encouragement. He saw a figure bobbing up and down, riding a pitching horse. He said, “Maybe Farley can have that one.”
    Len said, “It’d give him somethin’ to cuss at besides us.” His grin showed that the thought pleased him. He pointed his thumb toward a corner of the corral. “I see Big Jim over yonder.”
    A large man stood outside, watching the show from between the upright tree branches that constituted the fence. In size and stature he reminded Andy of Sheriff Tom Blessing. The rancher turned his head as the two riders approached. His big hand dropped quickly to a pistol on his hip, then eased away as he decided the visitors presented no threat.
    Len raised his hand. “You know me, Mr. McCawley. Name’s Len Tanner. I’m a Ranger.”
    McCawley’s eyes lighted up. A pleasant grin spread across a face ruddy and deeply lined, seasoned by many years of sunshine and hard weather. Gray hair in need of a trimming curled over his ears. “Sure, I remember you.” He shook Len’s hand, then shifted