Chapter Forty-six
“Hell, Jake, we don’t have time for this,” Dallas Steele said. “Condor could light a shuck.”
“It will only take a moment. Trust me. We’ll catch up with Nate Condor, all right.”
“Jake, I always knew you were a kneeler, but this is ridiculous,” Steele said.
“Look at it, Dallas. It’s calling out to me and I’m damned if I know why.”
“There’s nobody been inside that place for years, maybe a hundred years,” Steele said. “All you’ll find in there is pack rat nests and bird droppings. If God ever lived in there, he moved to better quarters a long time ago.”
“Stay outside on watch, Dallas. If Condor passes this way, come a-running.”
Steele shook his head. “Anything you say, Jake. I know better than to argue with an O’Brien when he’s got his mind set on something.”
The old mission chapel lay off the tree-lined street in an acre of ground overgrown with brush and cactus. Its adobe walls had long since faded into a dirty cream color and the oak doors were dry and stained as ancient parchment. A bronze bell, green with mildew, still hung in a timber tower. The few headstones and marble crosses in front of the building that marked the graves of forgotten dead leaned over at impossible angles.
Still clinging to cobwebs of morning mist, it had a lost, forlorn, neglected air and Jacob reckoned Steele had it right. God had long since abandoned the place.
He swung out of the saddle and tethered his horse to the limb of a wild oak, then stood outside the church door. He had no idea why he was there, why he’d interrupted a manhunt to visit the old place. The chapel called out to him. That’s all he knew.
When Jacob opened the creaking door he smelled the mission’s musty breath, but its heartbeat was gone, stilled when the last worshipper after the last mass closed the place for the last time.
To his surprise, though the mission was empty of pews and the pulpit had crashed to the floor some time in the past, a sanctuary lamp glowed red at the right side of the ornate altar. The light meant consecrated hosts were present in the tabernacle. Jacob took in the single statue of a bearded man struggling against massive iron chains standing in a niche in the wall before he removed his hat and kneeled in front of the altar. He crossed himself and bowed his head.
“Welcome to the mission San Pedro en Cadenas, my son.” The male voice, heavily accented, came from Jacob’s left.
He turned his head and saw a tall, thin man of late middle-age dressed in the rough brown robe of a monk step out of a doorway to the left of the altar.
Jacob rose to his feet. “I thought there was no one here.”
The monk smiled. “The sanctuary lamp is lit and that means Our Lord Jesus Christ is here, present in the altar.” He stepped closer to Jacob and held out a pale hand. “I am Father Karl Friedrich von Weisen, the pastor of this mission.”
Jacob shook the priest’s hand. “Judging by your name and accent, I’d say you’re a far piece off your home range, Father.”
The priest nodded. “Far from my native Prussia, yes. But then, any church is my home range, even this one.”
“What did you do to deserve St. Peter in Chains?” Jacob smiled to take any possible sting out of his question.
Von Weisen smiled in turn, his sky blue eyes amused. “The short answer is nothing. I was sent here two years ago to take over the flock. But there is no flock. Silver City has more fashionable churches than one that threatens to fall down on the heads of the faithful. I expect I will be recalled to Europe again soon.” His face became serious. “Why are you here? Only to visit?”
Jacob dropped to one knee. “I want your blessing, Father.”
“I suspect you’re troubled about something.”
Jacob nodded. “I’m on my way to kill a man.”
If Father von Weisen was shocked, he didn’t let it show. “This man, is he a good man or is he evil and that’s why you must kill him?”
“Or he might kill me, Father. And yes, he is a man of evil, past and present.”
“Years ago, I blessed the soldiers of the Prussian army before they set off to fight the French,” the priest said. “The French were not evil, but they were the enemy.”
“English Nate Condor is evil and an enemy, Father,” Jacob said. “Your blessing will give me the courage to face him. At least, that’s what I tell myself.”
Von Weisen smiled. “I can’t withhold from you what I conferred on the Prussians. But if you’d asked to confess your sins I would have refused, since it’s possible that in God’s eyes you were already planning to commit the sin of murder.”
“I understand,” Jacob said.
The priest laid his left hand on Jacob’s head and made the sign of the cross with the other. “Almighty and eternal God, protect this warrior as he discharges his duties. Protect him with the shield of thy strength and keep him safe from all evil and harm. Amen.”
“Amen.” Jacob rose to his feet.
Von Weisen smiled again. “Perhaps, my son, you were lucky that you met a Prussian priest this morning, one who’s seen his share of war.”
“Perhaps that’s why I was drawn to this mission,” Jacob said.
“Yes, God works in mysterious ways. Now, let us both hope we haven’t mortally offended Him.”
Jacob nodded his thanks and returned to the street where Steele waited patiently.
“Hell, Jake, you were talking to a priest? You probably offended the hell out of him,” Dallas Steele said. “Did you tell him you’re planning to kill a man?”
“Yeah, Dallas I did. I told him English Nate Condor was evil and needed killing. And I didn’t offend him.”
Steele shook his head. “Well, they sure don’t make preachers like they used to.”
“He’s Prussian,” Jacob said.
“Who?”
“The priest.”
“Ah, that explains everything,” Steele said, the puzzled expression on his face revealing that it didn’t.
Before Steele could say anything else, Jacob said, “Did you catch sight of anyone who might be Nate Condor?”
“Look at the street, Jake. It’s beginning to get busy, and it seems that everybody walks in this town. Condor could easily lose himself in the crowd.”
“A two-gun man who looks like a pirate isn’t difficult to spot,” Jacobs said.
“All right, then, I didn’t see him.”
“Why didn’t you say that in the first place?”
Steele shook his head and grinned. “You know something, Jake, with the possible exception of the colonel, the O’Briens can be a pain in the arse.”
Jacob smiled in return. “Can’t we though?”