67

The Sangre de Cristo Hotel

One evening he had eaten, as usual, at the Yellow Rose. After he watched Joelle’s first show, he went back to the hotel. He tried to read a book Steck had loaned him about the Indian Wars, but got restless. Why haven’t we heard from Washington? Why isn’t Gen. Carleton behind bars? Why hasn’t the federal envoy sent marshals to arrest the man? What’s happening to Hasbaá?

That last question kept gnawing at him. What’s happening to Hasbaá?

It wasn’t very late, so Will decided to take a stroll through the gardens. Stretching his legs might help the agitation. He left his room, locked the door behind himself and headed down the dimly lit corridor. As he came around a corner, he walked right into an army officer in full-dress uniform. The officer had a pocket flask in hand. He’d apparently stopped in the corridor to swig from the flask, just a few steps too close to the corner. The officer had his head tilted back and hadn’t seen anybody coming. When Will bumped into him, the flask spilled, and whisky went all down the front of his uniform.

“Excuse me,” Will said perfunctorily and kept walking.

“Damn you, man,” the officer shouted a little drunkenly. “Don’t you walk away from me.” He screwed the top on the flask, put it into his breast pocket, and pulled out a handkerchief to wipe at the whisky.

“Why don’t you watch where you’re going?”

Will turned back. “I’m sorry, sir,” he answered civilly. Just then, the army officer looked right at him. And he looked back at the officer.

“What the hell? It’s you, Lee. I thought you were dead.”

“Oh, General Carleton, what a surprise to run into you here.”

“I saw your bones in the ashes of that burnt-out Indian hut.”

“It’s called a hogan.”

“I don’t care what the damn things are called, you idiot,” Carleton spat out. Will could hear slurring in the general’s speech; he started backing slowly down the hall.

The general followed him. “I’ve been ordered to report to the federal envoy to the Territory. They put Bauer in charge and ordered me off my own command.” The general’s voice rose. “And then I get up here and discover my financial backers have double-crossed me.”

“I’m sorry, sir.”

“They said a surveyor name of Williams had come through here. And said my land was worthless. What a damn lie!” Suddenly, a light seemed to dawn in the general’s eye. “Williams? That was you, William Lee, wasn’t it? You pretended to be a surveyor and turned my backers against me.” Carleton pulled the pistol from the holster at his side. “You goddamn son of a bitch. Damn Peak. That fool can’t do anything right.”

Carleton was clearly intoxicated. Will imagined the man had reason to be drunk. He must have just arrived here in Santa Fe to discover his empire had fallen apart.

Carleton started to laugh. “Well, Lee. Looks like I’m gonna get the last laugh anyway.” He cocked the pistol.

Will felt his stomach sink. He said a prayer to Changing Woman.

“You’ll be pleased to learn, I’m sure,” Carleton said sarcastically, “that I had those Indians you run with arrested for your murder. That skinny squaw you seem so fond of, and the old lady, and that damn Chief Barboncito. Here was a chance to get rid of a pack of troublemakers all at once.”

Carleton waved the gun. “I don’t know what you’re doing here. But you sure look like you just tried to rob me. I can’t be blamed for defending my person.” Carleton steadied himself. He raised the pistol and held it at arm’s length, aimed right at Will’s face.

Will thought about Changing Woman. He thought about all he’d accomplished. He thought about his dreams of going off to the Navajo lands. Now’s the time I need a miracle. Where is Turquoise Boy now?

Just then, Ganado Mucho came noiselessly around the bend in the corridor behind Carleton. He carried a wooden water bucket in each hand. Ganado took in the scene, then looked straight at Will. Something unspoken passed between them.

“Goodbye, Mr. Lee. And good riddance.” Carleton fired.

Ganado swung one of the buckets. It struck Carleton on the arm just as he pulled the trigger.

Will was blinded by the flash. He felt the bullet whiz by his head. But it missed him. A large clay pot full of flowers hanging behind him exploded.

Ganado swung the other bucket. This one struck Carleton powerfully on the head. The general crumpled and fell to the floor unconscious.

Will thanked Ganado profusely for coming around the corner at just the right moment. Silently, he also thanked Changing Woman.

He and Ganado carried the unconscious general into Will’s room. They used the decorative tie-backs from the curtains to bind him securely to the bed. Ganado kept guard while Will rushed to Dr. Steck’s house. It struck Will as poetic justice that a Navajo now guarded Carleton, keeping him a prisoner, just as, for the last four years, Carleton kept the Navajos prisoner.

He arrived out of breath. Panting, he explained what had happened. Steck was delighted. “Carleton sealed his own fate by attacking a U.S. Government official. Now we really do have a case of attempted murder. I’ll get the sheriff right now.”

Will also explained to Dr. Steck what Carleton had said about the Diné leaders’ being charged with his murder. He said he had to get to the Fort as soon as possible.

“We’ll have Carleton behind bars tomorrow, Will.” Dr. Steck promised. “He won’t be a threat to you anymore. Godspeed on your journey. I pray you’ll be in time.”