Chapter Five

The events of the day had exhausted Callaghan and despite his worries about Christina, the sheriff fell in to a deep sleep once he had seen to the defences and posted lookouts. Hours later, he felt himself dragged back to wakefulness by Mick Harper who was shaking him vigorously.

‘Come on Sheriff! You gotta wake up!’

‘What the hell is it?’ he murmured groggily as he sat up. The smell that reached his nostrils and the crackling sound of burning wood told him all he needed to know. Thrusting aside his blanket, Callaghan was on his feet in seconds and ran outside, the youth following. The elaborately constructed wall of furniture was now a blazing pyre, its saffron flames illuminating the blue-black sky above them. The townspeople dashed to and fro, their buckets of water spilling as they did so. Matt Carver had organized them into a line of willing helpers, but it was hopeless. Soon there would be nothing left.

‘What about the lookouts?’ Callaghan’s foot bumped against soft flesh as he uttered these words and he glanced down to find his question answered by the sight of a corpse. The dead man had been struck in the throat by an arrow, his clawed hands raised in a vain attempt to pull it out before he breathed his last.

‘The others are all the same,’ Mick told him. ‘Do you think the Apaches will come back soon?’ the boy asked fearfully as he looked up at the night sky.

‘They’ll probably return when it’s light. What have we got left that’ll hold them off?’

‘Apart from our guns, just a few barrels and sticks of furniture.’

The sheriff thought for a moment. ‘All right. Go to the line and get three men to help you. Get enough stuff together to build a small barrier further down the street and block it off. Do the same with the small alleys running off it.’

‘Do you think we still have a chance, Sheriff?’

‘Maybe. I’ll post men on rooftops and at windows. The barriers will slow the Apaches down and we can pick them off more easily that way. If we’re lucky the cavalry will be here by sundown.’

Callaghan felt a stab of guilt as Mick ran off to do his bidding. It was wrong to raise false hopes in the lad. They could certainly keep the enemy at bay for a while using these methods, but not for long. He slumped to his knees, his head in his hands. The inhabitants of Maxwell would be dead before noon and there was nothing he could do about it. The people voted to fight because they trusted him, and in his stubborn pride he had let them down. Callaghan’s only hope was that he could delay Aldo and Tate long enough to allow the army time to catch up with them. At least then there was a chance Christina might be freed.

‘Don’t blame yourself, Sheriff. No man could have done more to protect this town and its people.’

Callaghan looked up at Samuel Endicott. The minister was a sight to behold, his suit crumpled and face blackened with smoke, but he had not lost the air of dignity and inner peace he always carried with him.

‘That’s kind of you, Reverend, but the truth is we wouldn’t be in this spot if I’d invoked my authority as sheriff and handed over the money.’

Endicott nodded. ‘No one would have blamed you had you chosen to do that, but there is another truth to consider. This town would have slowly withered and died of shame, no man able to look another in the eye or speak of honour and courage without the words sticking in his throat.’

‘What about the children? It’ll be my fault if they’re slaughtered or brought up as Apaches!’

The minister squeezed his arm reassuringly and gently but firmly raised him from his knees. ‘They’re all well hidden in cellars and under floorboards with instructions to keep quiet and enough food to last a couple of days. The Apaches will have better things to do than go hunting for them when the cavalry are hot on their heels.’

‘Well, that’s a relief, at least.’

‘It is through them that this town’s sacrifice will be remembered. After all, who would now remember the Alamo if the folks had all surrendered when the chance was first offered to them?’

Callaghan found himself laughing despite their predicament. ‘I quite like the idea of being a William Travis or Davy Crockett.’

At that moment, Matt Carver approached them. ‘It’s no good, Luke. The fire’s taken everything. Mick told me your plan but I didn’t have the heart to tell him that it’ll just buy us a little more time.’

The sheriff shrugged. ‘Maybe there’s no harm in letting him have hope for a while.’

Endicott held up his bible. ‘And a little faith too, gentlemen. Let’s not forget that.’

‘Yeah, well I guess now wouldn’t be a bad time to start praying,’ said Carver.

‘There’s never a bad time to do that,’ the minister replied before going off to comfort his congregation.

As dawn smouldered on the horizon, Callaghan made what preparations he could for the attack that was bound to come. He watched the sunrise with all his senses on edge and it was with some surprise that he saw a small party approach under a white flag, led by Aldo and Tate. The riders reached the edge of town, formed a line and then parted. Christina emerged from behind, her hands and feet bound to the reins and stirrups of a pale horse. Callaghan immediately stepped forward and she shook her head in warning as her eyes met his.

‘That’s far enough,’ Tate warned him. ‘Come any closer and I’ll shoot her in the back.’ He held a rifle in the crook of his arm and it was pointed straight at her.

‘What do you want?’ demanded the sheriff, reluctantly standing his ground.

Tate prodded Christina in the ribs with the gun’s muzzle. ‘Go on, you tell him.’

The girl drew a deep breath and then began. ‘They want you to hand over the money. If you do that, they will leave peacefully. If not, you will all be killed.’

‘What about you?’

Christina closed her eyes tightly and put her head down. She began to sob quietly and Callaghan noticed that her hair was dishevelled and her clothes torn.

‘She is to be my woman,’ said Aldo decisively.

‘Let her go and you’ve got a deal.’

The Apache said nothing but shook his head.

‘Come on, that’s the good part. She hasn’t told you everything that will happen if you refuse,’ said Tate.

Callaghan felt sickness rise in his stomach but he had to know. ‘Go on, tell me.’

Christina looked up once more and he saw where the tears had left tracks in her dirty face. She struggled to compose herself for a moment and then continued.

‘I will be given to Aldo’s men, each in turn. They guessed that you have hidden the children and Aldo says that he will leave a few men behind so that for every hour you delay him, a child will be found and killed.’

A murmur ran through the group of townspeople who had gathered around the sheriff and a woman, the mother of a young child, began to sob.

‘For God’s sake, Sheriff, give these heathens what they want!’ a man called out.

‘How long have we got to decide?’

Aldo then thrust the spear he was carrying into the ground. ‘Enough talk! You decide now or I do all that has been said!’

Callaghan glanced around at the onlookers. ‘You won’t need to take a vote this time, Sheriff. Folks know when they’re beaten,’ said the man who had called out earlier.

Matt Carver was at his side and squeezed his shoulder gently. ‘We’ve no choice, Luke. No man can stomach knowing that if he fights hard enough, children will die because of it.’

‘All right, we’ll do as you say,’ conceded Callaghan. The words came out in a whisper, his voice suddenly weak.

Carver took some men and went off to the post office to collect the saddle-bags of cash, which were then dumped in front of the enemy. Aldo gave a smile of satisfaction as he signalled to the men he had brought with him to take one each. Then he drew his spear out of the ground, held it horizontally in both hands and snapped it. The sound of wood splintering was loud in the silence and the Apache leader tossed the pieces into the dirt at Callaghan’s feet.

‘You see, white man. You are not so strong but break easily, like my spear.’

The sheriff watched helplessly as Christina was led away. She turned once to look back at him and then slumped dejectedly over her horse’s neck. Tate was the last to leave, favouring them with a mock salute before he rode off.

‘I guess we could try tracking them,’ suggested Callaghan with more conviction than he felt.

‘They’d spot us a mile off,’ replied Carver. ‘We’ll get her back, Luke. You just have to be patient until the army gets here.’

‘They’ll be half way to Mexico by then,’ said the sheriff as he turned away in bitterness. Then a sudden thought struck him. ‘No, maybe they won’t,’ he murmured to himself.

‘What is it, Luke?’ asked the station agent.

‘Come with me, we need to look at that map on the wall in the post office.’

The two men set off down the street, Callaghan striding ahead as his friend hurried to catch up. Ignoring a dejected Arthur Norris, the sheriff lifted the map down from the wall and placed it on the counter where he began to study it carefully.

‘What are you looking for?’ asked Carver.

‘That hideout we were taken to. Where is it?’

Carver traced his finger along a low-lying range of hills. ‘It must be somewhere around here.’

‘That’s more or less what I figured. Now, they’ve got a good stash of weapons back there for sale. Aldo won’t want to head for the border without them, whatever Tate thinks.’

‘They’ll have to go around in a big loop to do that,’ said Carver.

‘Exactly. Now, if we trace the most direct route to the border from the hideout we end up somewhere around here.’ Callaghan jabbed his finger at the area around a small border town.

‘That’s San Elizario, right on the Rio Grande. It’s a stage stop less than twenty miles from El Paso.’

‘If we’re underway by nightfall, we’ll be there before Aldo and Tate, which gives us time to wait for the cavalry.’

The hours passed, people brought their children out of hiding, homes and businesses were repaired to the sounds of hammering and sawing as the town returned to some semblance of normality. Then, at mid-afternoon a cloud of dust appeared on the horizon and lines of mounted men in blue uniforms slowly became visible as a cavalry troop approached the town.

As the soldiers came to a halt, Callaghan studied their leader, a stocky, swarthy individual who wore a sergeant’s stripes on the sleeve of his dusty tunic.

‘Where’s your officer?’ the sheriff asked.

The man jerked his thumb backwards. ‘We buried him out there in the desert. Lieutenant Colley was from back east someplace and fresh outta West Point. I guess some damn fool general figured the dry air of the desert would do ’im good on account of his delicate health, but a man who can’t stand heat is liable to pick up fevers out here.’ There was an awkward pause before he went on to introduce himself. ‘I’m Sergeant Jefferson Pike and I’m in charge o’ these here men.’

Pike then scratched his greying beard with a beefy hand and indicated the tall civilian who rode beside him.

‘This is Mister Bert Gorman, a Wells Fargo detective. . . .’

‘Thank you, Sergeant,’ Gorman cut in. ‘So, what’s been going on here, Sheriff?’

Callaghan felt the man’s hard brown eyes appraising him coolly from beneath their hooded lids. Gorman’s tall, spare figure leaned forward in the saddle and he listened attentively as the lawman recounted the events of the past few days.

‘It’s unfortunate that you allowed the prisoners in your custody to escape, Sheriff, most unfortunate, not to mention the stolen money handed back to thieves.’

‘It seems to me that without the efforts of Callaghan and these good folks here, we wouldn’t have a hope in hell o’ catchin’ the varmints and gettin’ the money back!’ protested Pike.

‘Quite so, Sergeant. I’m not trying to apportion blame, but it is a most unfortunate turn of events following Tate’s initial capture, as I’m sure the sheriff will agree.’

‘Yeah, it’s damned unfortunate, especially for Christina Salinas. The point now is to get her rescued, the money returned and Tate under arrest.’

‘I agree,’ conceded Gorman before turning to address Pike. ‘Now Sergeant, what do you say to an hour’s rest for your men before we head for San Elizario, as the sheriff suggests?’

Pike nodded curtly and gave the order to dismount. The detective then turned his attention to Matt Carver who had come to stand beside Callaghan.

‘And who might you be?’

‘My name’s Carver. I’m the station agent here.’

‘I shall need to interview you about your role in this affair, Mister Carver,’ said Gorman as he climbed down from his horse. ‘I suggest you keep this man in custody until then, Sheriff.’

Callaghan finally exploded. ‘Damn you, Gorman. Have you listened to a word I said? Matt almost got himself killed trying to bring Tate to justice!’

‘I always listen very carefully to what people tell me, Sheriff. One of the most puzzling features of this whole business is how Tate and his men found out about the large amount of money being carried on that stage. The driver and the guard knew what they were carrying, but no one else. Carver must have known these men well, and they will have trusted him. Who was in a better position to find out?’

‘You must be crazy!’ protested Carver. ‘Why would I risk my neck to get that money back if I was paid to help steal it in the first place?’

‘What better way to cover your tracks once the plan went wrong?’

Callaghan forced himself to calm down. ‘Now look, Mister Gorman. I know you have your job to do and need to consider all the possibilities when you investigate a crime, but this is just pure speculation. I’ve known Matt a long time and I can assure you that he’s incorruptible. Everyone in this town will say the same thing.’

Gorman’s thin lips drew in a smile. ‘In my experience, Sheriff, no one is incorruptible. However, if your friend comes along with us to San Elizario so I can keep an eye on him, I am prepared to waive my request for custody.’

‘Is that OK with you, Matt?’

‘Sure Luke. I was going to come anyway.’

Gorman removed his derby hat and ran a hand through a head of jet black hair that came to a widow’s peak above his high forehead. He smiled at both men as he led his horse over to the stables, and Matt scowled at his retreating back.

‘I don’t like that guy one bit. When I hear his silky voice with its accusations and look at him in his fancy suit, it makes me think he’ll put anyone in jail just to make a big name for himself.’

‘He certainly has a way of rubbing people up the wrong way, but then he is a detective. Maybe being suspicious of everybody comes with the job.’

‘Along with seeing crimes where there aren’t any. How does he know Tate and his gang didn’t just get lucky? Maybe they had no idea what that stage was carrying. After all, I didn’t.’

Callaghan clapped him on the shoulder. ‘I know you didn’t, Matt, but maybe somebody did tell them, or Tate at least. There could be more to this, and Gorman, unpleasant though he is, could be just the man to sniff it out.’

‘Well, he certainly seems determined to catch up with Tate and Aldo, that’s something at least.’

Aldo and his men, meanwhile, were just leaving their hideout, having returned to collect the weapons. Tate had been keen to get across the border straightaway, but the thought of the additional money all those rifles would bring in held an allure that overcame his caution. The only problem now was how to get rid of his unwanted allies. The Mescalero leader rode just ahead with Christina beside him, and the outlaw could hear their conversation clearly.

‘Soon I will be as rich as any Mexican or white man,’ Aldo began. ‘The rifles will bring much gold. You shall not live as a squaw.’

‘That’s easy to say now you don’t have to carry out your threat and give me to your men.’

‘Not so, I knew those words would frighten Callaghan who looks at you with hungry eyes. No, you belong only to Aldo.’

Christina flinched and drew away sharply as the Apache reached out to stroke her hair. ‘You may force yourself upon me but I will never belong to you, never!’

Aldo drew back as she spat the words out at him. ‘Many of my own tribe would willingly give themselves to me, but I have chosen you. You will accept this. You will accept it when I come to you tonight!’ Then he rode on abruptly.

Tate drew alongside her in his place. ‘We’ll make camp in a few hours. What will you do then? Scratch his eyes out?’

‘What do you care? You’re as bad as he is.’

The outlaw shrugged in response. ‘Maybe I am, but then again, maybe not. I don’t like to see a woman with your spirit sacrificed to a man like him. There might be something I can do to help.’

Christina looked at him suspiciously through narrowed eyes. ‘Why should you help me?’

Tate handed her a canteen and signalled for her to drink. She felt the knife taped to the back of it and glanced around to ensure she was not observed. She then quickly concealed it beneath her clothing.

‘It belonged to Billy, but I figured you could use it,’ the outlaw said quietly as she passed the canteen back to him.

‘You still haven’t answered my question.’

‘Does it matter why I’m giving you a chance?’

Now it was her turn to shrug. ‘I guess not, but I imagine it’s because you want to get rid of Aldo, and it’s easier to let someone else do it for you.’

‘Just take my advice and let him get his pants down first,’ whispered the outlaw before he rode ahead to catch up with Aldo, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

‘Well, we got the money back. When do I get my share?’

Aldo did not look at his companion as he made his reply. ‘You will get it when I choose to give it to you, and not before.’ The Apache then asked, ‘What were you saying to the woman?’

Tate shrugged. ‘I was just advising her to make the best of things. After all, you’re going to be rich when all this is over.’

Dusk fell and they made camp. Once they had eaten, Christina was shown to a sheltered spot away from the others and given some blankets. A fire was lit and the young warrior who was with her gestured for her to lie down. She had learned that he was called Chico, and that Aldo considered him one of his best men. He grinned unpleasantly at her as he moved away into the shadows. A victory had been won, and the men were celebrating with whiskey and mescal. Aldo was now their hero, and she knew he would remain drinking with them for a time. Eventually he would come to her and she lay with every muscle tensed, the knife gripped in her right hand beneath the blanket.

Eventually, she heard shuffling footsteps and a figure loomed over her in the firelight. Aldo tossed the half bottle of whiskey he had been clutching to the ground and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Christina drew the blanket aside and he saw that she had removed her outer clothing. Aldo sank to his knees beside her and she placed an arm around his neck. He smiled and brought his lips close to hers as his hands groped her body. She felt the knife in her free hand and buried the blade in his chest up to the hilt. Christina withdrew it and his eyes widened in surprise as he looked down at the gaping wound. She stabbed him several more times, her desperation to escape whipping her into a frenzy. Aldo’s reflexes were slowed by drink, and he was no match for a desperate and determined woman. Blood spurted from his wounds, leaving him too weak even to rise.

Christina stepped back from him as he crawled towards her, his hands reaching up to seize her throat. Then he slumped forward and lay still. She stood for a moment, as if rooted to the spot, but fear of discovery overcame her shock and she moved quickly to dress herself and find a swift horse which she then led away from the camp before mounting it and riding off into the night.

Aldo’s men made the grisly discovery of their leader’s body at dawn, and there was an animated discussion about what they should do next. Tate understood little of their language but gathered that they were planning to hunt down Christina and put her to death very slowly and painfully.

‘My friends,’ he addressed them. ‘Yesterday your chief gave me his last command, to ride with you to San Elizario and get the best possible price for his rifles. That can’t be done if everyone is busy chasing the girl.’

It was the young brave called Chico who answered as he spat contemptuously on the ground. ‘You think only of gold, white man. We must avenge Aldo.’

‘Of course you must, but she’s just one woman. How many of you can it take to capture her? You can also honour Aldo by carrying out his command and selling those rifles.’

There were murmurs among the group as Chico translated these words for the benefit of those who had not understood. Sensing that they were now less certain, he pressed home his advantage.

‘Look, I’ve seen you fight, and it would only take two reliable men to find this wretched woman and deal with her. The rest of us can then sell these rifles and carry out your chief’s wishes.’

There was a further brief discussion before it seemed that a consensus was reached. Then Chico turned back to Tate. ‘We will do as you say, but be warned. Betray us, and you will suffer as the woman will suffer.’

Tate nodded slowly in response. There was no doubt in his mind that the threat would be carried out. He would have to continue to tread carefully, very carefully in deed.

Christina had ridden desperately throughout the night, aware that her only hope was to put as much distance between herself and Aldo’s men as possible, for she had no doubt that they would seek revenge for his death. The pinto she had stolen sweated and snorted beneath her. The poor creature was getting weary, and she decided her best option would be to let him rest and walk for a few miles. But before she could slow down, she reached a slope and her tired mount lost his balance as the sands shifted beneath them. He bucked and reared as he fell and she was thrown up into the air – she had just a blinding glimpse of sunlight before the ground rose to meet her and darkness descended.

When she awoke, it was to the sound of shallow breathing and a faint whinnying sound from the pinto. The horse’s eyes were widened in pain, and it was clear that one of his legs was broken. There was nothing for it but to put the poor creature out of its misery. Christina had no pistol but took the knife she carried and slit a vein in the pinto’s neck. She then knelt beside him, whispering softly and stroking the animal as he died. Standing up, she set off resolutely to walk, hoping against hope that she had travelled far enough already to be out of reach.

The two men who followed on fresh horses that had rested overnight soon picked up her trail and narrowed the distance between them. They came across the dead pinto when Christina had been walking for almost three hours. She stumbled determinedly onwards under the blazing sun, heading towards a canyon where she hoped she might be able to find a safe hiding place as well as some cool shade. She reached the foot of it and began to climb upwards, ignoring the ache she felt in every limb. Her water was almost gone, but even dying of thirst out here was preferable to what Aldo’s men would do to her. She heard horses in the distance and looked around, shading her eyes from the harsh sunlight with a grimy hand. She could barely make out the two figures who were rapidly approaching, but they appeared to be carrying spears and one of them pointed in her direction. Summoning all her strength, she desperately tried to scramble up the slope. She seemed to be making some progress when she somehow slipped and, unable to find a foothold, slid back down to the bottom.

The two Apaches were only a short distance away now and Christina could see their painted faces. There was only one thing left to do. Reaching for her knife, she raised it high in both hands and prepared to plunge it into her heart. At that moment, a shot rang out and one of the Apaches tumbled from his horse. His companion let out a cry of alarm and raised his spear before another shot followed and he too fell to the ground.

Christina’s benefactor strode down the slope and gently extended a hand to help her to her feet. She let out a small cry, unsure of whether to be relieved or not.

‘It’s OK, you won’t come to any harm from me,’ said Judd Silver.

She drank greedily from the canteen he handed her. ‘What are you doing out here?’

‘I was just about to ask you the same thing.’

Christina briefly explained how the town had surrendered and handed over the stolen payroll before describing how she had managed to kill Aldo and escape. Silver nodded slowly as he listened to her account.

‘So, what are you going to do with me?’ she asked suspiciously.

‘I told you, you’ve nothing to fear from me.’

‘Then you’ll let me go before re-joining Tate?’ she asked hopefully.

‘I’m not interested in Tate or his damned money.’

Christina shook her head. ‘I don’t understand.’

‘I’m not sure I do either. Anyway, it was lucky for you my horse went lame and had to rest up. Otherwise I’d have crossed the border before now. As it is, we’ll take those horses and I’ll escort you across.’

‘I’m not sure I can trust a man like you.’

Silver shrugged in response. ‘I can understand that, but what choice do you have?’

Christina let out a sigh of resignation. ‘None, I guess.’