darlin’. Simply isn’t anything harder than dealing with the senseless death brought on by sheer wickedness. But you’ve got to buck up.”
The girl’s racking sobs grew louder. Her grasp on the lapels of my vest grew more pronounced. I thought, for a moment, she just might twist the garment to shreds.
In the manner of a concerned parent, I drew her closer and caressed one shoulder. Said, “Seen more than any man’s share of senseless brutality during my life, child. Been forced, by time and circumstance, to bury some of my own family in years past. Several of them perished at the hands of an evil skunk named Slayton Bone in a sorry act of violence some years back. That particular brand of vicious, gun smoke-laced, unexpected death just isn’t ever easy to take. ’S what makes me certain the passage of your parents and brothers is especially difficult for one of your tender years. But you must trust me when I tell you that the shock will pass, and eventually the pain will lessen. Won’t go away, but there’ll come a time when this tragedy will move to the back burners of your wounded memory.”
Clementine coughed and smeared a runny nose across the front of my vest from pocket to pocket. Her childlike action left a snotty, tear-stained, snail-like trail.
I placed one hand on the sobbing girl’s cheek. “Don’t you worry, young lady. My friends and I will find the men responsible for this shameful deed. We’ll search them out, discover why they would be party to such a shocking endeavor, and make certain they never commit a heinous act such as this again.”
Clementine tilted a tear-streaked face up and stared into my tense, pinched countenance. She jerked at the vest with a talon-like grip. From behind bloodshot, rheumy eyes, and with tears pooled in the corners of a quavering mouth, she said, “Is that a promise? Do you swear it, Ranger Lucius Dodge?”
Tried not to let any hesitation creep into my voice when I placed a hand on each of Clementine’s skinny shoulders and said, “Absolutely. As God is my witness. The animals responsible for what occurred here, on the banks of Devils River this sad morning, will pay for what they did. And, by God, they’ll pay dear.”
Eyes closed, the Webb girl tossed her head from side to side, as though trying desperately to clear a confused mind and wounded soul of a spider’s web of unwanted thoughts, horrific images, and the pain lying at her bare feet. She latched onto my forearm with an iron-fingered grip that belied her youth and childish, rail-thin scrawniness.
In spite of the protection of the sleeve of my heavy, bib-front shirt, Clementine Webb’s dagger-sharp fingernails gouged through the material and into the skin beneath. I stared down into the girl’s emotion-etched face. Could physically feel her boring gaze, as it augured into my very soul.
She popped up on tiptoe and pulled my hatless head down to her level. In a croaky, emotion-choked voice that sounded like cold spit on a red-hot stove lid, she whispered into one ear, “Will you swear it? Will you swear before God and me, Mr. Dodge? Swear that you’ll ride down the men who brutally murdered my family. Swear to me that you’ll run the scum to ground like rabid dogs . . . and kill them, one and all.”
“Well, I . . .”
“Swear it,” she hissed.
“Already promised, Clem. We’ll do what we ...”
She jerked on my arm so hard I came nigh on to losing my footing. She twisted the sleeve of my faded shirt into a blood-blocking knot with her bony, child’s fingers and glowered up at me like a thing crazed, demented. Then she threw her head back and moaned as though her soul was being tortured.
I drew myself up with the implacable Clementine Webb still attached to my arm. Stared down into twin pools of hard-edged vengeance. “We’re working on catching the folks what done this foul act as we now speak, darlin’. Have a man out looking for them at this very instant. But there’s some things I need to know . . .”
Didn’t get a chance to finish my thought. The sound of horse’s hooves slopping their way across the shallows of Devils River brought everyone’s attention around to the west.
Clementine released my arm, then grabbed on to my pistol belt and moved slightly behind me. From beneath my protective arm, she flashed a gaze filled with death-dealing lightning bolts at the new arrival.
I rubbed my elbow, then pointed. “In fact, that’s my man coming now, Clem. Hairy beast lopin’ out front’s Bear.” The girl’s grip tightened. I patted her hand and added, “No need to worry yourself. Ole Bear wouldn’t hurt a flea.” Then, to an unhearing world in general, I said, “Not ’less Glo first told him he could, anyways. Then it’s Katy bar the door.”
12
“. . . BLEW THE WHOLE TOP OF THE MAN’S HEAD OFF . . .”
GLORIOUS JOHNSON ROOSTED atop a broken, leafless cottonwood limb Boz dragged to a convenient spot near our sputtering campfire. Wisps of gray-black smoke swirled above the heap of sticks and logs in an angry, spiral-shaped, cyclonic cloud.
Elbows propped on bony knees, flop hat pushed away from a sweat-and-dirt-stained face, Johnson sipped at his battered, tin coffee cup. Said, “Yah, suh. I’m certain, Mistuh Dodge. Ain’t no doubt in my mind a’tall. Them murderin’ skunks what done fo’ these poor folks is headed south and east.”
“Del Rio?”
“Yah, suh. ’Pears they’ll eventual end up in Del Rio fo’ certain sure.” Glo glanced at the cowering girl who peeked from beneath my arm and added, “Sorry, miss, don’t mean no disrespect fo’ yore poor departed family members or nuthin’ by mentionin’ murderin’ skunks and such. Sad to say, but that’s just the way things has turned out, you know?”
I patted the girl on the shoulder. “Her name’s Clementine, Glo. Clementine Webb,” I said.
Glo touched the brim of his hat, nodded, and tried to smile. “ ’S my pleasure, missy. Sorry we has to meet under such tryin’ circumstances.”
Clementine, who still kept to the safety and protection of a spot slightly behind and to one side of me, gave a dull nod of the head, but offered nothing else by way of reply. The largest part of her attention, at that moment, appeared focused on the dog. Bear sat at her feet and wagged his knotted tail like a happy puppy as he nuzzled and licked at her hand. The creature appeared totally entranced by the girl.
Surprised by the animal’s somewhat less-than-usual response, I allowed myself a wide grin, gave the girl’s shoulder another tap, and said, “Seems you’ve made a new friend, Clem. Not many folks as can say that.”
Glo tossed away the last few drops of the up-and-at-’em juice left in his cup, then said, “Them boys gonna end up in Del Rio
With nervous fingers, Boz tapped the brass tops of bullets in the loops of his pistol belt. “Makes sense to me, Lucius,” he said. “Mendoza’s trail-side whiskey and tequila locker in Carta Blanca is the closest place for ’em to tie on a good drunk ’tween here and Del Rio. Maybe grab a bite to eat as well.”
I scratched my chin and frowned but said nothing.
“Bet all them fellers as had a hand in sendin’ Miss Clementine’s family to eternal rest,” Boz continued, “are a-lookin’ to drown some of the bloody horror of what they went and done in a river of bad tonsil paint. Ain’t a man of good conscience who could face his God after such a monstrous act. Figure they’re likely goin’ straight to horned Satan just as fast as bad whiskey and good horseflesh can carry ’em to ’im.”
Glo grunted, nodded his agreement, then said, “Everthang you just said could well be true, Mistuh Tatum. But you know them fellers ain’t in no special, horse-killin’ hurry to get theyselves to Mendoza’s, or anywhere else for that matter. They’s ridin’ along all slow and cocky, real arrogant-like. Done set me to thinkin’ as how they figures ain’t nobody knows, or cares, as how they done went and kilt off the most part of an entire family.”
“Taking their time, are they?” I growled between clenched teeth.
“Yah, suh. They ’uz draggin’ around so slow I almost rode right up on ’em, no longer’n I ’uz gone this mornin’. Trailed ’em till they weren’t no doubt in my mind where them fellers was headed. Way I got it figured, if’n they keep up the pace they ’uz makin’ when I turned back, likely be bellyin’ up to the bar at Arturo’s jus’ about now. Be good’n knee-walkin’ drunk in another hour or so. Passed out or pukin’ up they sorry guts whence it comes on dark.”
I picked at my teeth with a splinter of wood, stopped a second, and said, “How many of ’em, Glo?”
“They’s five, Mistah Dodge. Whole party stopped a time or two so as to rest they animals. Offered me a
