11
Chisum heard their howling and war whoops above the wind. Muffled shots and screams came from the workers’ village. The damn Apaches were making a full-fledged raid on his ranch. In disbelief, he rushed inside the house and secured the Colt .45 from his desk. What else would go wrong? He stepped back out on the porch and tried to see.
A wall of dust half obscured the hatless riders in his corrals driving out the horses. Filled with rage, he took aim and fired, but the shots were lost in the sound of the wind. The Apaches ignored his shooting, swung their lariats, and obviously were taking every head of saddle stock he owned.
Damn their worthless red hides. He started into the wind, firing the Colt to no effect. The Indians sent the ranch remuda in flight toward the south. He swore under his breath. His hat was torn from his head as he stood in the yard, flying dirt blinding him while the Mescaleros left with his animals. There was nothing else he could do.
“Señor? Señor?” Sancho the segundo shouted to him. “Apaches! They hurt some people too!”
“How many and how bad?” Chisum shouted over the wind.
“Two are dead so far and three are wounded I know about.”
“Do we need to send for a doctor?” Chisum turned away from stinging dust.
“Sí, patron. ”
“Have we got a horse left?”
“Some brood mares down in the pasture. The Apaches never took them.”
“Get one for a boy to ride for help. Send him quickly to the house and I’ll have a message for him to take to the army too.”
“Sí, patron.” The full-faced Sancho held tight to the chin string of his sombrero.
“Saddle me a mare and send three good men to go with me,” Chisum said, “My niece has not returned and I am very concerned about her safety.” His words trailed off as the hard gusts swept over them.
“Oh, the señorita? I am sorry, patron.”
“We’ll find her. Get those mares ready to ride and sent those men to the house with them.”
“Sí, patron.” Sancho nodded to Moore when he joined them in the swirling dust.
“What in hell is happening, John?” Moore demanded.
“We’ve had an Indian attack. The damn Apaches took my horse herd.”
“Right now?”
“They just did it.”
“Oh, Jesus. What will they do next?”
“I’m not certain. My niece Juanita went out riding hours ago and hasn’t returned. I need to go look for her. I am also sending a note to Fort Sumner’s commander, Colonel Waverly, to send some of his troops down here, and also for a doctor. Some of the ranch people were wounded in the attack.”
“What can I do?”
“Barricade yourself and the women in the house. Ben can show you the rifles.” They entered the sanctuary of the living room.
“Did we hear shooting?” Barbara asked, halfway down the staircase.
“You and Nelda better come down here,” More said. “She upstairs?”
“No, she was in the dining room drinking wine when I left,” Chisum said.
“I could use some of that,” Barbara said with a frown, and hurried down.
“More wine in the cabinet,” Chisum said to Moore.
“I can find it.” Then Moore lowered his voice. “What about Judson?”
Chisum shook his head. He wasn’t back either. He had only gone down on the Pecos a few miles, but the Mescaleros had come from that direction. Chisum could only pray they hadn’t become victims of the war party. Damn, what else could go wrong?
“I won’t mention it to the women,” Moore said, and hurried off to the dining room.
“Ben! Ben!” Chisum shouted. “I’m coming, Mr. John.” The man arrived with an armload of rifles.
“Ammunition?”
“Got my pockets full, sah.”
“Will there be shooting?” Barbara asked. “It hurts my ears.”
Chisum shook his head while laying out the long guns. My dear woman, it would be much better to hurt your ears than have those red bucks plug you raw with their hard-ons. There was no reaching her, he decided.
“Damn the Indians anyway,” Nelda swore, and waved the empty bottle for a refill. “This soldier is dry.”
Ben quickly went to the cabinet for more. Chisum shoved some of the shells spilled on the polished tabletop into the magazines. He had lots to do, but more important was Juanita and her safety. Without her, his life would have a void in it far too deep to ever refill. She had to be alive and unhurt.
A sober, pale-faced Moore helped him load the rifles. The banker looked about to speak, but said nothing, wetting his lips often and fumbling with unfamiliar fingers at the chore of reloading.
“With you gone, can we hold them off?” Moore asked at last.
“I will have Sancho and some of the men stay here with you and the women.”
“Good.” Moore acted satisfied, and his face showed some relief with that knowledge.
“Mr. John, they be out front with them horses,” Ben announced.
“Good. I’ll try not to be long.”
“Be careful. I can’t imagine what you will do out there in this dust storm,” Moore said, shaking his head in defeat. Then, in a whisper, he asked, “What about Tweedy?”
“Probably fine, sitting out the storm.”
“God, I hope so.”
In the closet, Chisum found a hat with a chin string. He drew it down, and took the holster off the peg. He fitted the Colt in the holster, then strapped the belt around his waist. Somewhere above the storm’s cry outside, he could hear the hysterical voice of Barbara in the other room. Some women needed a stocking stuck in their mouths at times like this.
He met Sancho on the porch.
“I want six men to stay here at the house and help guard my guests in case the Apaches come back.”
“Sí, patron. This is Juan. He is the best rider and has the race mare. He will go to the fort.”
“Take this to the colonel himself.” He handed the youth the note he had scribbled off.
“Sí,” the youth said with pride, and hurried for the trim saddled mare at the edge of the porch, where three riders and the empty horse also waited for Chisum.
Chisum watched him mount and ride away. The colonel would soon have troops in the field. It might be too late. His horse herd was gone, two employees dead, others wounded—damn renegade Indians anyway.
“Guard the house,” he said to his segundo.
“I will, patron, with my life.”
“I’ll be back when I find her.”
“Sí, be careful, patron. The Apache, he is tricky.”
“I will.” Apaches he knew about. He tied a kerchief around his face, and the others pulled theirs up. They rode out single file into the force of the wind and blowing sand. He wanted to head east first. He felt certain Juanita had gone that way. Damn, if Tweedy was dead—no, he had to be alive, waiting out the storm out there somewhere with Tina. Chisum booted the mare hard to make her move out. She shied around a piece of dead brush dancing across the yard.
The wind never let up. The dust sought his eyes and like diamonds scratched them. He tried to wipe the grit out with his fingers, but it only ground in more. Visibility was reduced to a few feet at times, and he wondered if he was going the right direction. Then familiar landmarks began to appear, a fence post or two, a broken-off juniper, some rock formations, and he felt on track again. He hunched over against the wind in the saddle, his mind burning with his concern for her safety.
They paused under an overhanging rock. No sign of her. He wrapped himself in a blanket for warmth and mentally cursed his neglect of her. He never should have let her ride out on that crazy colt—he knew better.
“Patron, we can go to Senor Green’s,” Sancho’s oldest son, Miguel, offered. “It is only a few miles. Perhaps she is there waiting out this storm?”
“Good idea. Mount up,” he told the huddled men. He and Green were not friends, but they were both white men and the Texan would take good care of his niece. For the moment, anyway, he had a lead. The notion she might be there warmed him against the wind’s chill. This day would soon turn to night. Green might put them all up—considering the conditions.
Dogs barked when they approached the Green headquarters. A few black-and-white collies came out to welcome them. A gruff-voiced Airedale joined them.
Green came out in the wind.
“Green? I’m John Chisum.”
“I know you. What brings you out in this storm?” the short gray-headed man asked.
“My niece rode out early this morning on a green-broke red bay, and haven’t heard of her since. She isn’t here, is she?”
Green turned the side of his face to the storm. “No, we haven’t seen a soul.”
“Apaches raided the ranch about noon today.”
“They what?”
“Apaches. Took my horse herd and killed two of my men.”
“Damn, Chisum, come inside. Tell your men they can take the horses and go around back in the sheds.”
“Miguel.” He spoke quickly to the man in Spanish. Miguel agreed with quick nods, and led his mare off with others.
“We have company,” Green shouted as he ushered him inside.
“I thought the last of them Apaches were out of the county.” The man barred the door behind them. “How many were there?” He lowered his voice, not anxious for his wife and the young girls to hear them.
“Several. I’ve already sent for the army.”
Green nodded and turned to make introductions. “Girls, this is Mr. Chisum.”
The three nodded politely. A woman in her thirties gave him a smile. Not a large smile, but a greeting smile.
“Take Mr. Chisum’s coat. He is looking for his niece who rode out on a young horse. Earlier today?” Green asked him.
“Yes. Middle of the morning.”
“Is it Juanita James?” the oldest girl asked.
“Yes, do you know her?”
“Oh, yes, we’ve met her several times at socials. She is very nice.”
“Thanks,” Chisum said, giving Green his coat and hat.
“We are ready to eat, won’t you join us?” Mrs. Green asked.
“Oh, I have three men outside.”
“She’ll fix something for them after we eat,” Green said to reassure Chisum. “Sit down, man. You’ve been in a devil of a storm out there riding around. You must be starved. How did you ever find us?”
“Miguel knew the way.”
Green nodded, and they both took chairs at the plank table. The girls and Green’s wife served them with bowls on the table. There was plenty of skillet-fried beef, flour gravy, light bread, and rice. Chisum felt guilty eating without his men, but he minded his host and accepted the man’s promise to fed them later.
“Fix up some frijoles and rice for them boys,” Green said to his wife between bites.
Chisum saw her agree, and wondered when the girls would eat. Obviously, he was company, and they were waiting for him to finish.
“The food is very good. I wish you and the young ladies would join us,” he said.
“Oh, we’re fine,” Mrs. Green said, busy dishing out the food in plates for his crew.
Green kept on eating his biscuit. Men first, ladies second. Chisum wondered where Juanita was at. Darkness was drawing in, and he feared even more for her safety. And Tweedy? Had he made it back to the ranch safely? Chisum’s whole world was coming apart and nothing he did stopped it from unraveling. Damn, damn.