Chapter 16

I fell into a bottomless void. Sensations of black mist whirled around my stretched fingers.

A marble floor rushed to meet me.

I woke before hitting bottom.

Voices echoed inside the building.

Touching my head, I opened my eyes. The blurry world sunk and spun, leaving my stomach far behind.

What happened? Had Jacob given me a beating again? I forced an eye open, hoping to see the furry face of my dog Trevor. Instead, I saw a silver cup.

I lifted my head. This wasn’t my bedroom.

I forced both eyes open and looked at a makeshift table. Beside the cup rested a broken figure and a cross.

Where was . . .

I remembered.

The train. Gunshots. Ryan pulling me away. More gunshots.

Scott’s voice cut through the fog. “I have Alita tied out back. She was just running down the street, riderless. But Anna. We tell him. As soon as he awakes.”

“Tell me what?” I asked, slowly moving my legs to the side. With a hand over my eyes, I tried to sit up. “Oh, my.” I rested on an elbow.

I heard wood scrape against stone, and a blurry image with a mane of red sat a few feet in front of me.

“We didn’t get the girls.” Scott’s voice was firm.

Another voice cut in. “It’s a mistake to tell him.” Who was that? I remembered, the soldier Matt.

After a pause Scott said, “The girls were split up. I saw Jacob board the train with Anna. The rest of the girls went south.”

“Into Mexico.” My words sounded as if I’d just woken and was drowsy. I tried again sitting up, and this time my feet touched the floor.

A gruff voice to the left said, “Yes, Mexico. Running Deer is tracking the girls.”

“And Anna?”

No one spoke.

“Anna?”

“Jacob forced her onto the train.” Scott’s tone was bitter. “We couldn’t get to her in time.”

My mind cleared and I looked around me. High windows allowed just enough light to make out an altar, a small podium to the right, and a door on each side. “This a church?”

“Yeah, you’re in the chapel,” the gruff voice said. I turned and saw Marshal Hill looking over me, concern in his eyes.

“Why not tell me about the girls?” I asked him.

Scott answered, his face close to mine, his elbows on his knees. “Some believe it’s best to just tell you about Anna, since she’s still close. And certain parties in our posse can go after her without repercussions.” His lips curled in a snarl.

“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Mexico isn’t a place we can go,” Jackson said. I turned to look at him, and the world spun again. “We won’t be soldiers if we ride. Matt isn’t ready to leave his career.”

“No sir.”

“I, however, am.”

I nodded. “Thanks, Jackson.”

“Hey, I worked hard to be a soldier. Ain’t easy for a black man to get any respect in the world you white men control.”

“You’re following the rules,” Marshal Hill said, holding out a hand to Matt and sitting next to Scott. “I would do the same.”

“Got a lot of men looking to me.” Matt crossed his arms. “And I can’t let ‘em down by running over a border you all think is okay to just skip across.”

“He’s got a point,” Marshal Hill added. “We’ll all jeopardize our careers. Worse, we might start a war.”

“With Mexico.” My mind was still moving slow. I rubbed my temples.

Scott kept his voice low. “Yeah, buddy. We’ve got to think this through. I can’t get the girls by myself. You know that. But you can’t get Anna by yourself. So we need to decide. Anna? Or the girls?”

I closed my eyes. Think, Philip. C’mon. I knew when making big decisions it was better to clear the mind than to keep the clutter.

A picture of Anna’s face entered my mind. She would know. What would she do?

I knew what Scott wanted. I looked my best friend in the eye.

He returned the gaze.

I said, “What do you think?”

“You’ve got to ask yourself a very important question before we decide what to do. Why did Jacob split up, and where do you think his destination is?” His pronunciation was a poorly hidden conspiratorial tone, but I caught what he was saying.

Jacob had found the map. He was on his way to Devil’s Tower. “You think?”

He gave a knowing nod.

So. Jacob was after the treasure. If he didn’t have Anna, I would let him go.

“Marshal, how long before we get another train?”

“I can wire to get one sooner,” he said. “But I’m guessing a week. Maybe two.”

That sealed my decision. “We’ll ride to get the girls. But Matt, I’ve got a mission for you to the north.”

I stretched my legs and tried to stand. Wobbly as a newborn colt.

“Take it slow,” Marshal Hill warned.

I sat down and bent forward so my forehead almost touched my knees. “What happened out there?”

“Not sure.” Scott lowered his head close to mine, so I could feel his breath. “You okay? Feel like a good vomit? Make you feel better.”

“No, Scott, I’m fine. I . . . I think Ryan saved my life.”

“Yep.”

“Where is he?”

Marshal Hill said, “Behind you. He’s been wanting to show you something.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that?”

The big man’s hand appeared over my shoulder. In his palm was a small derringer.

“That’s Anna’s.” I turned to look at him. “Where did you find it?”

He pointed over his shoulder toward a bench.

I asked him, “How did you know it was Anna’s?”

“She shot me.”

“Right.” I remembered.

I took the gun. Her initials, A.J.J. marked the butt.

Still loaded.

How did it end up here? Holding such an intimate part of Anna’s life was surreal and made the longing wrap around my heart like a snake choking a victim.

The oppressive heat didn’t help either. I wiped a trickle of sweat that ran down the side of my face.

Think, Philip Anderson. Be smart.

I stood on weak legs. Scott sat directly in front of me, looking up. His eyes held a familiar expression. On the cliff top, he’d been innocent, eager. And after he marched into the wolf’s mouth he stood his ground, gave as well as he got and accounted himself a man. Anyone can pretend to be a man. But his eyes always give him away.

Scott’s lighthearted nature had returned. But now as he considered me, the wisdom and self-reliance stepped forward, not the whining or fear.

He measured me as an equal now.

I put a hand on his shoulder. “Good job today, buddy. Wish I could have fought at your side.”

He pursed his lips. “Glad you’re okay.”

I walked away from the men, away from the altar, taking with me a longing to do the right thing. I would pray outside.

I tapped Ryan’s arm in appreciation. Then I walked under a wooden archway and pushed open the double doors.

On the wide street I breathed in the cooling evening air. A few feet away, a stone wall stretched until it reached an adobe fence. I leaned an elbow against the dried mud and pulled back. The clay still baked, even though the sun hung orange and low against a bank of mountains.

Lord, I thought. Paths. Which do I take?

I wanted to go after Anna. But if I saved her without trying for Beth and her mother, she might never talk to me again. A pretty poor excuse for a decision, but in the end—thinking on Anna’s strong will—potent.

The smells of sage and flowers mingled, and I dearly wished Anna stood by my side to experience the moment.

Shuffles sounded in the dust, and I turned to see Marshal Hill approaching.

His mustache glimmered in the dying light.

“Someday I’ll grow a caterpillar like yours.”

He grunted, looking back at the chapel. “Finding the girls sure changed the attitude of our posse.” He raised both elbows out wide and leaned against the adobe and looked toward the sunset.

“Waiting for Running Deer’s a trial.”

“You’re back to normal too,” Marshal Hill said. He didn’t catch I wanted a subject change. “Know what you want and how to get it. That’s good.”

I lifted a brow and faced him.

“Say what you’ve got to say, Marshal, please.”

“You really want me to?”

“I sure would.”

“There’s a lot going on I don’t know. You and Captain Smith seem to know each other far more than you let on.” His dark face showed his emotions, usually buried deep, rushing toward the surface. “And what about you remembering Mrs. Custer? Scott said that’s why you were in town when the girls were kidnapped. I remember you saying you knew Custer. How does all this fit in?”

I must be one of those rare people that didn’t have to know things. Anna devoured information about people, places, and facts like I worked with horses—a fanatical devotion. While talking with me, she was listening to the conversation nearby as well but still somehow completely absorbed with me.

Marshal Hill was like Anna. Probably why he and I were close.

“And what about John Maxwell being your uncle? You’ve never fully explained that to me. What’s going on, Philip? Does it have to do with why Jacob and Anna went North?”

There were some questions bothering me as well. “Tell me first, honestly, did you know my parents? Henry and Constance Anderson?”

He shook his head. “Never heard the names.”

“Never spent the war in Virginia?”

“I was a Pinkerton.” He stared me down. “Spent the war protecting the president.”

I choked. “The president? Sorry.” I covered my inappropriate smile.

“Don’t like to tell people about that. But you’re a good man. Won’t spread it around.”

“No,” I said. “No, I’ll keep that to myself.”

He dug into his pocket and pulled out a cigar. “Need to think. Calm my nerves. You don’t mind, do you?”

I shrugged a shoulder and looked back at the sunset.

“I was protecting a senator during the assassination.” He scratched a match and I heard a burst of flame. “Did my job.”

First the smell of sulfur, then rich, sweet tobacco filled the air.

“I never met Custer,” he said.

“I did. As a child. I didn’t like him.”

“No.” I heard him take a puff. “No, I expect not.”

“I’m going to trust you. There’s a map, split in two.” Privileged information had gotten me nowhere. “Leading to something like treasure. Maybe another map. Maybe nothing, I don’t know. It’s why my parents left hearth and home for the Dakota Territory. Went right past their homestead and died at Devil’s Tower.”

He didn’t look up, didn’t move. He only stared at the ground with the cigar in his fingers, burning.

“John Maxwell had been looking for the treasure with only half the map. I’m guessing he saw the other half that tells the exact location. I have the other half, the section that points to the part of the country. Mr. Wilkes knew about the map. Moved to the Dakota Territory just to be close to me.” I shook my head. “Incredible the lengths people will go to for perceived wealth.”

He grunted. I imaged he was thinking of train robberies and stage holdups.

“I’ve always thought my father was an amazing man. Turns out, my mother turned society’s head.” I ran a hand through my hair. The strands had never been so long. “My memory is cockeyed.”

“Jacob know about that map?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Until now,” he said, lifting the orange glow of his cigar at me.

“Anna had the map. Bet he just found it. Only reason he would split like this.”

“Makes sense.” He let his arms drape over the adobe’s edge. He sighed, long and filled with emotion. “Love this country. Wife lives in El Paso.” He lifted the cigar to his lips. “Wish you weren’t so blamed angry at these people.”

I took a deep breath as well and tasted the sweet smoke from his cigar. “All people sin. I forget that sometimes.” This was hard to admit. “I guess pointing out other people’s faults helps me forget mine.”

“Hope you get to see the better side of them.” Marshal Hill let out a long stream of smoke. “Thinking this’ll be my last rodeo.”

“Going home?”

“Going home. El Paso.”

“Won’t be the same, you not riding into my ranch dead of night.”

“I’ll still come by. For memory’s sake.”

I hesitated to say it but decided life was too short. “You think you might die?”

“Maybe.” Another sigh that was filled with a sadness that drifted on the cooling air. “Worried you might too. You’re getting a bit reckless.”

“How do you mean?”

“I just see you getting into a situation where there’s more bad guys than you have bullets.”

“I do too.” The thought was an instant nightmare. Raven had to carry more than her share of extra ammunition, because I never wanted to run dry. But I’d never formulated the words—making the fear spoken. Getting backed into a corner, without the hope of escape, out of ammunition. Yes, a nightmare. I better change the subject. “My special mission for Matt. He a good man?”

“Reminds me of John Scobell. Man we had on the Pinkertons. Former slave. Black man had something to prove. Worked to show himself as good as any man, and doubled the skills of everyone else. Let Matt try. He’ll give it his best.”

In the distance cactus rose like random soldiers waving, their long shadows cast across the desert. “You like the land?”

Marshal Hill started to say something then pointed over the wall we leaned on.

A form left the shadows and walked through the chapel courtyard. The dying sunlight splashed against a young Mexican woman, her black hair gleaming. Her white linen dress and brilliant red sash and shawl spoke of modest wealth. A cobalt blue belt wrapped around her slender waist. The closer she came, I could make out embroidered red flowers on her dress.

Her cloth shoes barely made a whisper on the cobblestones.

Despite her youth, lines of worry and despair crossed her forehead. She sat on a bench near the dry, central fountain. She lowered her head and brought a hand to her heart.

Perhaps I should announce our presence. Just as I opened my mouth, Marshal Hill tapped my arm. “Shhhh.”

I held my tongue.

She sat, lost in thought, for nearly a minute. Her head jerked up at a sound, and over the wall a man dropped, landing lightly on both feet.

She gave a sharp cry, jumped up, and rushed to him. He opened his arms and she fell against his chest. He wrapped her as if her life were in danger. I dreamed of holding Anna, and I had to swallow the pain.

“Miguel,” she said in a thick voice. Her next words were in Spanish.

So, the young man who helped us on the cliff top had a love.

Marshal Hill leaned close. “She’s telling him not to go. To stay home.”

“Go where?” I whispered.

“The chapel. He’s wants to volunteer. Help us find the girls.”

He wore an old pistol tucked into his belt.

“He has a mother, but his father is dead. Who will care for the farm? The goats? What will become of her? Her father is… is the mayor.” Marshal Hill groaned. “Their love isn’t approved by her father.”

Miguel took the girl’s hands. “Ana Maria, por favor.” And I understood nothing more.

“He asks her if she always wants to be poor. If she wants to live in slavery or freedom. They were born free and no one—not even Valentino—could take that away from them.” Marshal Hill groaned again. “Sounds like they all answer to this Valentino.”

The marshal tilted his head to the side and started translating exactly as he heard.

“And now that these strangers come, these lawmen from the North, they are willing to stand up to Valentino, to free us from these taxes. To give us a chance at happiness. And you would have me watch as you marry him? I will not have it, Ana Maria.”

Why did her name have to be Ana?

“But Miguel, you cannot stand up to Valentino alone.”

“Alone? Alone? I am not alone. Do you not understand who is in that chapel? Do you not understand what has happened here today? These men have come and chased away the man with white hair and his men. Don’t you understand, Ana Maria? Please understand. These aren’t ordinary men. These are gunmen. And it is not just a lawman who leads them. No, it is Philip Anderson himself. Ana Maria, he is the greatest of all men with a gun. Do you understand, Ana Maria?”

I was sure they could hear my heart pounding in my chest.

“Do you understand our poverty, Ana Maria? When the chapel bell rings, it reminds me I have nothing to bring our sweet Mother but the handfuls of grain that Valentino hasn’t taken. Even our love he has stolen. Please, I love you, but I would rather die than see you in the embrace of him. I must try.”

“No. I forbid it. I cannot live as his wife thinking of you dead.”

The passion in her voice, even though I could not understand their words, forced my hand to move to my gun. These people needed protection.

When she spoke her voice was so timid I almost couldn’t hear her.

Marshal Hill said, “She will kill herself if he joins us.” In almost a growl, he added, “That way he will live.”

The effect on Miguel was difficult to see in the growing darkness. He stood without moving. Finally he spoke and rushed back the way he came.

Ana Maria looked at the wall where his lingering presence faded then rushed the opposite direction, through the gate and down the street.

Marshal Hill was silent as she passed us, her sobs so consuming I don’t think she saw us. A pair of birds burst from a nearby scraggly mesquite with a flurry of chirps and darted across the street.

I watched her until she turned down another street.

One thought filled my head. “They are Anna and I, aren’t they?”

Marshal Hill gave me his attention.

I closed my eyes and choked out the words. “What I wouldn’t have done to have Philip Anderson march into Mitchell and take care of Jacob.”

“So you understand these people better?”

I didn’t say anything for a bit. Instead I let the heat from my body fade with the cooling night. “You think Miguel is out for revenge?” I was asking if I was hunting Jacob not only to save Anna, but to exact justice.

He shook his head. Looking at me, he said, “Hunting outlaws—my only regrets are when I went too far.” He wiped his mouth with his opposite hand. “Revenge isn’t wrong when you fight to stop evil. But when justice loses sight of the end, righteous anger becomes revenge and turns on itself. No, I guess he’d go as far as stopping Valentino.”

Which meant I should go as far as stopping Jacob.

Running Deer stepped into view, pushing back a branch from the mesquite. Leather fringes hung limp from his sleeve, the buckskin stained and torn across his chest. His shoulders drooped.

I took a step toward him.

“Miya Ca.” Running Deer held up a hand. He took a leather pouch from his side and lifted it over his lips. Only a few drops fell.

“I’ll get you some water.” I started for the chapel.

“I have found them.” His dark eyes were worn with fatigue. “But we must hurry. I believe they are in great danger.”