only what I hear. I believe he bought debts from others, threatened them in some cases. I heard from my people that he went to people from whom you had borrowed. Some did not know he was a bad man. Valdez did not. With some he threatened force.”
“That sounds like Wooston…and Russell.”
“Señora waits for you. She has confidence.”
Sean felt a pang. She was expecting help from him and he had brought her only trouble. Yet there had to be something…some way.…
----
O N A BRUSH-COVERED knoll, overlooking the trail up the canyon, Tomas Alexander waited with Russell.
“I tell you, Tomas, this here’s no good. He ain’t comin’.”
“There was a rider. A man who comes from the port to the pueblo. He said a big schooner had come in and Mulkerin left ahead of them, so he should be here.”
“We looked in the cove. There was nothin’.”
“He is a shrewd one, Sean Mulkerin is. He knows this coast and might anchor elsewhere. Anyway,” Tomas shrugged, “he might not come in until after dark.”
Russell took a pull at his bottle and put it aside. Sitting out in these dark hills was not what he considered a good time. He dug out more of a hollow for his hip and then settled down to sleep. Yet it seemed he had scarcely closed his eyes when Tomas spoke.
“They come, amigo. I hear a cart.”
Russell eased himself forward to a selected firing position. Wooston had said to kill Mulkerin, and that was just what he intended to do.
He peered along the rifle barrel, then stopped. “There’s three of them!” he said exasperatedly. “How do we know which is him?”
“He won’t be driving, and he has very broad shoulders.”
Russell could see the three figures taking shape, suddenly he heard low laughter. “Hell,” he said, “there’s a woman with him!”
“Careful, amigo,” Tomas warned, “if it is a woman it is a lady. He would bring no woman to his mother unless she was a lady.”
Russell had been lifting his rifle to fire, but now he hesitated. One could be sure of killing one, and with a bit of luck, two. But the third one? There was too much risk that one would get away, and people who live talk. He relaxed slowly.
“A lady? Who would that be?”
“I do not know, but we must be careful, amigo. They know many important people. The Señora has many good friends, and it could be the wife or daughter of some important man. If you shoot, she might be hurt.”
Russell waited, then withdrew his rifle. He was just as pleased, for he did not like the odds. Suppose he killed the woman? That could be a hanging offense, and if it was somebody important he would get no help from Wooston. Zeke did not like mistakes.
Also, he had no wish to have a live Sean Mulkerin hunting the chaparral for him. Undoubtedly Mulkerin knew this area better than he ever would, and a man had little choice of trails. You couldn’t push through chaparral very easily, it was all so tightly woven together, and in any case, it would be noisy. Usually you had to stick to trails, and Sean Mulkerin had grown up here.
“Let’s get out of here.”
Tomas hesitated, wanting to go yet not liking the prospect of facing Wooston, a man he feared. Finally he said, “To my cantina. We will have a bottle of wine and talk of this. Maybe there is another way.”
Working their way back down the path, they reached their horses.
----
E ILEEN MULKERIN HAD been awakened by a voice outside her window. It was Montero’s voice and she had been expecting it.
“They are here, Señora,” he said, speaking softly. “They come from the sea.”
“
Gracias,
Jesus.”
She lay still for a moment, thinking of her son. He had sailed away with very little, and the market for pelts and hides was always uncertain. She did not expect him to return to her with enough money to pay off what was owed. That was impossible.
But just that he be here, to stand beside her, to help her face what was coming.
“Jaime,” she said softly, but
“That sounds like Wooston…and Russell.”
“Señora waits for you. She has confidence.”
Sean felt a pang. She was expecting help from him and he had brought her only trouble. Yet there had to be something…some way.…
----
O N A BRUSH-COVERED knoll, overlooking the trail up the canyon, Tomas Alexander waited with Russell.
“I tell you, Tomas, this here’s no good. He ain’t comin’.”
“There was a rider. A man who comes from the port to the pueblo. He said a big schooner had come in and Mulkerin left ahead of them, so he should be here.”
“We looked in the cove. There was nothin’.”
“He is a shrewd one, Sean Mulkerin is. He knows this coast and might anchor elsewhere. Anyway,” Tomas shrugged, “he might not come in until after dark.”
Russell took a pull at his bottle and put it aside. Sitting out in these dark hills was not what he considered a good time. He dug out more of a hollow for his hip and then settled down to sleep. Yet it seemed he had scarcely closed his eyes when Tomas spoke.
“They come, amigo. I hear a cart.”
Russell eased himself forward to a selected firing position. Wooston had said to kill Mulkerin, and that was just what he intended to do.
He peered along the rifle barrel, then stopped. “There’s three of them!” he said exasperatedly. “How do we know which is him?”
“He won’t be driving, and he has very broad shoulders.”
Russell could see the three figures taking shape, suddenly he heard low laughter. “Hell,” he said, “there’s a woman with him!”
“Careful, amigo,” Tomas warned, “if it is a woman it is a lady. He would bring no woman to his mother unless she was a lady.”
Russell had been lifting his rifle to fire, but now he hesitated. One could be sure of killing one, and with a bit of luck, two. But the third one? There was too much risk that one would get away, and people who live talk. He relaxed slowly.
“A lady? Who would that be?”
“I do not know, but we must be careful, amigo. They know many important people. The Señora has many good friends, and it could be the wife or daughter of some important man. If you shoot, she might be hurt.”
Russell waited, then withdrew his rifle. He was just as pleased, for he did not like the odds. Suppose he killed the woman? That could be a hanging offense, and if it was somebody important he would get no help from Wooston. Zeke did not like mistakes.
Also, he had no wish to have a live Sean Mulkerin hunting the chaparral for him. Undoubtedly Mulkerin knew this area better than he ever would, and a man had little choice of trails. You couldn’t push through chaparral very easily, it was all so tightly woven together, and in any case, it would be noisy. Usually you had to stick to trails, and Sean Mulkerin had grown up here.
“Let’s get out of here.”
Tomas hesitated, wanting to go yet not liking the prospect of facing Wooston, a man he feared. Finally he said, “To my cantina. We will have a bottle of wine and talk of this. Maybe there is another way.”
Working their way back down the path, they reached their horses.
----
E ILEEN MULKERIN HAD been awakened by a voice outside her window. It was Montero’s voice and she had been expecting it.
“They are here, Señora,” he said, speaking softly. “They come from the sea.”
“
Gracias,
Jesus.”
She lay still for a moment, thinking of her son. He had sailed away with very little, and the market for pelts and hides was always uncertain. She did not expect him to return to her with enough money to pay off what was owed. That was impossible.
But just that he be here, to stand beside her, to help her face what was coming.
“Jaime,” she said softly, but
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